Author's Note: This is a fictional story, filled with made-up entities and events. Absolutely no sexual activities involve humans under age 18. People sin and suffer and have cataclysmic orgasms, same as in real life. This erotic horror story is entirely my own fault -- do not blame my wonderful editor, Hypoxia, who spent many hours helping me. I couldn't have done it without you H! I'd also like to thank LaRascasse for helping me proofread and bringing some plot holes to my attention. This is NOT a short read. Your constructive comments are always welcome.
"You want to order a drink, or are you going to just sit there all night?"
The female bartender's abrupt outburst snapped Cole from his trance.
"Oh! Yeah, sorry. I'll have a Coke, please."
The bartender gave Cole a peculiar look. "You came to this club to sit at the bar alone, stare at people, and order soft drinks? Not the usual thing attractive men do here on a busy Friday night."
Attractive? Cole never thought of himself as attractive. She wasn't the first to think so, however, whether he knew it or not. He was in his mid 30's, tall, short dark hair, muscular body, and strong jaw with a five-o'clock shadow. Okay, maybe he was attractive, but was it too obvious that he had been spending all his time observing the jam packed dance floor?
"I have to be at work in a few hours. Can't go in hammered, can I?"
The bartender smiled, nodding in agreement. She turned to fetch him a Coke.
Unknown to her, Cole was already at work. A member of Chicago Police Department's Bureau of Detectives, he was investigating a recent series of disappearances of young women in their late teens and early twenties, all of whom were described as very attractive. Their disappearances were believed to be linked to a long running sex trade organization with hubs in major cities around the country. He traced the missing women's last known locations to a night club near Chicago's industrial district.
The owner of the club, Travis Dunham, was a well known wealthy entrepreneur with a reputation for dirty business. Unfortunately for Cole, as well as the rest of the CPD, his wealth provided him with a wall of lawyers so thick no detective or prosecutor would dare attempt to break through without ironclad evidence. Cole knew if he were to make something stick, he'd have to catch him in the act.
The bartender returned with Cole's ice cold drink and left to tend to others at the bar. He took a sip as he focused on the dance floor filled with people laughing, dancing, and having a great night.
All of which Cole hadn't experienced in a very long time.
Above the dance floor was a balcony reserved for VIPs. Among them, leaning over the rail, was none other than the owner Travis, scrutinizing the dance floor in an all-too-similar fashion to Cole. Cole was certain they were both searching for the same target, albeit for very different reasons.
There were plenty of women on the dance floor, though most of them didn't stand out as supermodel material like the vanished women. All seemed to be accompanied by someone, usually a man, probably their significant other or soon-to-be one night stand.
Then Cole saw her.
A woman of stunning beauty danced in the middle of the crowded club. Her pale silky smooth skin shimmered in the lights of the dance floor while long black-as-night hair swayed with her every movement. Her sensational red cocktail dress barely covered her upper thighs, and also managed to show off the magnificent curves of her hips. The front of the dress was deeply V-necked to display her well-endowed breasts in all their glory. Her legs, long and toned, descended to a pair of unapologetic black open-toed fuck-me stilettos. How she was able to dance in those stratospheric heels was a mystery to Cole, but she did so with both grace and elegance.
She was beauty personified.
Cole found it strange she was alone. She appeared to have no one accompanying her on the dance floor. Odder still, no one seemed to be paying any attention to her at all. It was as if she was on that dance floor all by herself, dancing inside an invisible bubble to the catchy beat of music pounding into everyone's ears.
For a brief moment, while lost in awe of this woman, her eyes made contact with Cole's. He was mesmerized by her luscious red lips and sexy smile. However, he swore he saw the dark pupils of her eyes turn bright ruby red and then back to a lovely shade of brown. Just an illusion or refection of the lights, he thought.
In a feeble attempt to hide his obvious staring, he looked away, up toward Travis, who must have noticed the woman in the sexy red dress as well. Travis motioned for one of his security guards and told him something while pointing in the girl's direction. Cole watched as the bouncer made his way down the stairs and through the crowd to her. She accompanied him back through the crowd and up the stairs to the owner's niche. Travis greeted her with a kiss on the hand as they disappeared from Cole's view.
This was it. This was his chance. He would wait for her to come back down from the balcony, and if she didn't, he would rush up the stairs to find her. Probable cause.
"I better be right about this."
The door shut behind him as Travis led the girl in the sexy red dress into a tastily elegant private room above the night club. A luxurious-looking couch faced a huge television screen mounted on the wall opposite the door. Another wall backstopped a fully stocked bar and a tall bistro table with two bar stools. The back wall, if you can call it a wall, was a single giant Plexiglas pane giving a sweeping view of Chicago's downtown. The Loop pulsed like a living creature outside the window.
Travis turned his back to the woman and approached the bar. "Can I offer you a drink?" he called over his shoulder. He eased a bottle of one of his finest Napa wines from the rack and splashed its fruity contents into two small champagne flutes. One glass already contained an inconspicuous pill, colorless and odorless, that quickly dissolved, leaving no trace.
When Travis turned around his eyes widened. Both wine glasses escaped his grasp, shattering on the marble floor at his feet. The woman stared at him with a seductive smile. Her red dress was merely a pile of fabric puddled on the floor around her spiky heels.
Travis beheld the naked body of a classical goddess: proud plump round breasts with small light brown areolas surrounding perfect erect nipples; a flat flawless stomach and shallow navel above pristine trimmed pubic hair with just a thin landing-strip; and a wickedly sexy smile that could sway the minds of kings and courtesans.
"This one will fetch the highest dollar yet," he thought. No reason he couldn't have a little fun beforehand, though.
"I think we'll skip the drinks for now," Travis said, stepping over the mess of glass on the floor. He couldn't care less about cleaning up. The charwomen could tend to that in the morning.
He approached her slowly. She stepped away from her dress and walked to the couch, clicking in her stilettos. He caught up to her, his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her toward him.
She aimed her mouth toward his. Their eyes locked onto one another as they leaned forward. Travis' mind was blown by the sensations of this woman's explosive kiss. Never had he felt this much energy, this much arousal, from just a kiss! Then her perfume's scent hit his nose like a late spring breeze, ever so sweet and delicious. He was completely lost in her embrace, her hands on each of his cheeks, exploring his mouth with her agile tongue. He felt a twinge in his groin. His cock strained outward against the fabric of his trousers.
"You're too dressed for this occasion, stud".
Hearing her words for the first time was like listening to the songs of angels. Travis removed his hands from her waist, almost involuntarily, to unwrap his tie and unbutton his shirt. For a wealthy business man, he had quite the well-kept body. His chest was slightly hairy but quite muscular, his beefy pecs matched with impressive toned abs. He made quick work of his garments. He finally undid his belt. His trousers fell easily to his ankles.
"Still too dressed."
Travis slid down his black boxer briefs, stepping out of them along with the wadded puddle of his trousers. Only thin dark socks remained on his body.
She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him to her mouth once more. Her other hand found his fully erect cock pointing directly at her. Travis felt her hand glide up and down his shaft like silk sheets blowing in the wind while her tongue danced an inviting ballet in his mouth.
His senses were completely overwhelmed. Her beauty: flawless. Her voice: mesmerizing. Her smell: intoxicating. Her taste: delicious. Her touch: absolutely orgasmic.
Travis' knees began to buckle from the pleasure of this woman's skillful pumping of his cock. She pushed him down on the couch before he had the chance to fall over.
The woman gracefully squatted to the floor. She perched before him and admired his stiff cock sticking straight up in the air. Grabbing the base of his shaft in one hand, she pointed him towards her lips. The nerve endings in the head of Travis' penis responded like electric shocks as she kissed and licked from tip to shaft to base. Then with a sexy grin, she took him into her mouth.
All of him.
Mesmerized by her ability to take his full length into her mouth, Travis let out a sigh of complete contentment. His balls began to swell as she worked her mouth up and down his cock with rapid yet smooth momentum. She suddenly stopped, his cock wedged down the back of her throat, and licked the underside of his balls.
How did she know he liked that so much?
Oh God! Too much!
Travis' orgasm came rushing through his entire body. Moaning aloud, he shot stream after stream of hot sticky cum deep into the sexy goddess' mouth. She didn't even flinch as his seed trickled down her thirsty throat."
She stood and stared down at him.
"I hope you have more for me."
Travis gasped heavily, like he had just run a marathon. He looked down at his penis. It was still rock hard, even after the best blowjob he had ever received. No way was he missing this opportunity.
"There's plenty more where that came from," Travis said, his ego running rampant.
She smiled devilishly and turned around, her luscious round ass beckoning him. Placing a hand on each of his knees, she lowered herself onto his lap. Travis felt the tip of his cock poke the molten hot wetness of her labia. His balls twitched yet again, preparing themselves for the blissful pleasure they were about to receive.
The heat and wetness from her pussy weren't the only things Travis noticed. On her back were the tattoos of large bat like wings that stretched from her shoulder blades to her mid back. Lower, just above her lovely ass, was a smaller tattoo of a devil's tail, coiled up with a spear like tip.
"Do you like them?" she asked with a sex-laden voice.
Travis reached out to touch her back, his fingers outlining the outer edges of the wings. It felt different than the rest of her skin, like leather was sewn into her back. It was so odd, it didn't feel like...
His mind was quickly diverted when she lowered herself onto his cock, sheathing him inside her. The inner walls of her pussy engulfed him, sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. Her pussy was so warm, so wet, so tight! Of all the girls he had sex with before sending them to be auctioned off, none compared to this.
Travis watched as she expertly rocked her hips, sliding her dripping pussy up and down his full length. Each time she rose, he felt her inner walls clamp down, as if milking his shaft. He was paralyzed -- not that he wanted to move.
The girl dismounted, spun around and crawled back onto his lap. She placed a hand on each shoulder, then impaled herself on his throbbing member. Travis' hands began to massage her breasts that were bouncing up and down from kneading his cock. She emitted a soft moan. Her orgasm was approaching fast.
"Did you really think putting a roofie in my drink would be able to subdue me?"
Wait. How did she know?
Travis' higher mental functions shut down. All he could think about was how spectacular her warm wet pussy felt and how her hypnotic breasts swung in front of him. Clearly there wasn't enough blood in his body to make his sex organs work alongside his brain.
She fucked Travis much faster. Her sex slapped against his pelvis making a loud clapping noise that echoed through the room. Travis thrust back into her with perfect rhythm. His balls were about to spill their contents inside her.
"Yes! Empty yourself inside me! Fill me!"
Travis looked up at her face and saw two horns extend from the top of her head. His eyes widened in shock and horror as the rigid black horns grew, curving towards the back of her head. He tried to move but his body would not respond. His hips kept thrusting convulsively into her pussy. Travis realized he was no longer in control of his own body.
"Wha- What are you doing to me?!" he yelled.
"Pleasuring you, sweetie," she replied.
Travis tried again to gain control of his body but failed miserably.
"I can't move!"
She placed a finger on his lips, "Shhh. Don't fight. It will all be over soon."
The woman's eyes turn a vibrant red. Travis' face became white with terror as he watched two huge black wings extend from behind her.
This wasn't real. This can't be real!
"Oh it is very real, Travis," she spoke in a dark chilling voice. "How ironic is it that after all those women you sold off to the highest bidder, that your end would come at the hands of one you thought you'd be able to sell?"
"How could she possibly know about that?" was the single thought racing through Travis' brain amidst the rising sense of dread.
"You're no woman. You're a monster!"
Giggling, she leaned forward. "Oh, how right you are," she whispered in his ear.
She slammed down hard onto Travis' cock repeatedly. His hips worked against his will to thrust himself deep into her core.
"Yes! Release yourself. Give in to your lust, and fill me with your soul!"
Travis was on the edge past the point of no return. His heart was beating out of his chest and his lungs felt on fire. His second orgasm came forth with such force that it shattered his mind. He shot his semen into her -- and with it, all his life energy. The monster on top of him climaxed as he did, moaning and savoring her own pleasure as well as the energy being pumped into her dripping sex.
It had been too long. The time to act was now.
Cole got up from the bar and marched towards the stairs leading to the upper balcony.
"Sir. Sir! You can't go up there!" the security guard insisted, grabbing Cole's arm.
Cole quickly fished his badge from under his trench coat. "Chicago Police, stand aside!"
He marched up the stairs to the only private room.
"This is the CPD, Travis! Open this door! Now!"
There was no answer. The door was locked.
"Do you have a key for this door?" he asked the security guard who immediately shook his head.
Cole drew his service revolver from its holster and gave the door a hearty kick, and then another, until it flew open. He dashed inside with his pistol at the ready.
"Put your hands in... what the fuck?!"
Cole saw the woman he was looking for, with huge bat like wings sticking out from her back and a long tail dangling behind her, sitting on top of what looked like a shriveled up corpse. Her glowing red eyes glared at him, sending a chill down Cole's spine.
"A pure soul," she whispered.
The woman dashed toward the back wall made of glass. Cole fired three shots before she jumped through the glass to the ground below.
Cole ran to the ledge and looked down. There was no body. No one could have survived much less walked away from a fall like that. Did she... fly away?
"What the hell did I just witness?"
Cole was miserably stoic the next morning when he gave his full report to his captain.
"I know what I saw, Captain," Cole said through clenched teeth. He desperately tried to defend his position after last night's events.
"This is a complete cluster-fuck, Detective Harvey," Captain Finnegan roared. Cole was on the receiving end of a thorough ass-reaming. "We have the dead body of a prime suspect in a chain of kidnappings that looks like he's been dead for decades! And all you've got is that a naked woman was in the room with him, who then jumped out the window when you showed up? Is that your fucking story?"
"Yes sir, Captain," Cole replied, sticking to his word. He failed to mention the huge black wings sticking out of her back, the horns sticking out of her head, the long tail, or the red glowing eyes. No reason to make the Captain think he was more bat-shit crazy than he already did.
Captain Finnegan sat back down in his padded chair. He lowered his voice to a less strident level. "Listen, Cole. You're a good cop, one of the best. But I can't help but think you haven't been thinking clearly."
Cole rolled his eyes in frustration, knowing the turn this conversation was about to take. "This has nothing to do with Maria, sir. I've been through endless therapy and countless psychological evaluations. The shrinks say my mind is fine and I've been cleared to be back on the force."
"I'm fully aware of that, Cole," Captain Finnegan said. "I can't begin to imagine what you've been through. I'm just hoping that your frustration with her case hasn't carried over into your duties."
"They haven't," Cole assured him.
"Good. Regardless -- I want to give you a few days off, with pay, to clear your mind and start fresh on this case."
"That won't be necessary, sir."
"That is an order, Detective Harvey! You are by no means to work this case until you report back next week, understood?"
Cole straightened. "Yes, sir."
"Before you go, see if Vince has turned up anything in the morgue. I need at least something to feed the press dogs before they go spewing this as an act of bio-terrorism."
The captain looked down at his desk, shuffling papers. Cole recognized the sign of dismissal.
Cole shut the door behind him and took a deep sigh. That wasn't so bad, all things considered. It could have been worse. At least he still had a job.
Cole made his way down to the basement level of the precinct building. He replayed the previous night's events over and over in his head. He knew he wasn't crazy, but if he told anyone exactly what he saw, he knew he would be taken off the force, possibly for good.
He passed Frank Wallace, the detective assigned to Maria's case. Frank was spending his oh-so-valuable time shooting wads of paper into a distant trash can. He sometimes scored. Of all the people they could have assigned to that case, they picked Frank. Frank! Cole was pretty sure Frank was a dirty cop. However, there was nothing he could do about that, not with Frank's connections.
Cole arrived at the morgue. He threw on a lab coat and entered Vince's examination room. The bald pathologist was busy autopsying Travis Dunham's shriveled body.
"Please tell me you have something, Vince," Cole said, greeting the reed-thin, middle-aged doctor draped in a worn lab coat.
Vince turned towards Cole and adjusted his glasses. "Seventeen years on this lousy job and I've never seen anything like this. Come here, take a look."
Cole approached the body, or rather what somewhat resembled a body. The corpse was desiccated as if entombed for millennia in Egypt. But the clothes piled on a steel table beside the body were the same ones he saw Travis wear last night, without so much as a stain on them.