The Dance of Death

It captivated me this vision of pure expressive sexuality seductively moving just inches from my face. She simulated sex with the pole that grew up from the centre of the stage, her legs wrapped round it with her pussy rubbing a wet path up its length. She danced in rhythm to the music that filled the entire club with its soft pounding beat. I am sitting by the stage and from my vantage point, I have an excellent view of her long silken legs encased in sheer nylon and the tiniest piece of thong up between the cleft of her butt. I long to explore every inch of her form. I have never felt this need to pleasure or the wish to make love to a woman so much before. All her essence was drawing me closer. It was exquisite. Her breasts shrouded in black PVC wiggled provocatively at me. Long black hair reflects the red lights round the bar and the curls in her tresses fall down past her shoulders.

The poster on the door outside and on the street lamps around the city had eventually drawn me in. They had offered an experience never found anywhere else in London. The posters were black and told of nothing new in the gold lettering but the words jumped out at me and hit me deep in my subconscious. This compelled me to return to the club in Soho. I felt hypnotized as I am now with this swaying twisting body before me. I am not a regular in the clubs or bars of lap dancing but as I said, this time I felt that I should enter exotic dancing and darkness. The poster had promised me that I would never experience anything like it for as long as I lived. My interest in the dark and mysterious has been with me for most of my life, as has the morbid fascination with the dark side of existence, so this particular show sounded just my thing.

I am glad that I came as I am already feeling the beat of the music and the pull of this female’s amoral behaviour. What is strange is that we are the only ones in the club. There are no other dancers and no other customers and yet I feel the sensation of unseen eyes watching the show as I do. So why are we alone? I soon begin to feel my hips start to shift in time to the music. My hands are gripping the arms; my knuckles have turned white with the power I exude. She stands now before me; her face so close to mine. My breasts rise and fall in perfect synchronisation with hers as our breaths mingle. The heat from the red lights alone causes me to perspire and I feel my clothes stick to my skin. I am grateful for my decision not to wear underwear as the heat in the bar rises. She reaches forward and with painted red fingernails, and slowly peels off my clothes. Her touch sends currents of energy to my bare skin underneath so much so I find it hard to breathe.

~oOo~

My thoughts are forgotten when she finally speaks to me. “Breathe,” She hisses at me. ‘You must breathe. Your blood must be warm and it must hold life.’ Her words confuse me but I cannot find the voice to question her. She moves down on to her knees and my legs part expecting the warmth of her tongue. She does not try to oblige me; instead, she cuts into my skin of my legs with her long bloodstained talons and my blood mixes with the colour on her nails. What once I thought was polish now is blood. My eyes must have deceived me earlier and my heartbeat increases with excitement and fear.

I feel my body responding more to the beat of the music but it no longer spills from the walls of the club but vibrates in the soft tissue of my brain. One red fingernail traces a path between my breasts cutting into my skin like a razor-sharp blade. A thin line of my blood trickles down towards my navel. She cleans my skin with her tongue, licking her lips as she does so. On my stomach, I can feel no breath. I feel a strange emptiness coming from deep within her and yet to me she is so alive.

She takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. As I move, my clothes fall. She encourages me to dance by moving her body sensually in front of me; her breasts are now free like mine. We move to the pole and she stands on one side and holds my hands around it. I stand opposite her with the pole’s silver length through the middle of our outstretched arms. Red lights flash over our twisting bodies and they appear drenched with blood. I fling my head back so far that it almost touches the floor. My spine is suppler than ever before. She laughs as the momentum of my body forces her closer to the pole and she does not resist, but she does not allow me to stay there for long and I sense that she needing me. Her tongue now runs up and down the pole and I feel the need to do the same. Our tongues now meet with increasing passion and my pussy floods with sex juices, so warm and wet; the entrance yearns now for fulfilment. My desire for her increasing with each second of our kiss.

The heat from the lights and the passion that we have created warms up the scent from between my legs and it soon infiltrates our nostrils, teasing and tantalising our senses with its heady aroma. She reacts strongly to my scent and releases my hands to kneel down between my open thighs. Her fingers grasp each of my thighs and her touch is cold against my hot skin. My pussy is now inches from her mouth. A small moan passes my lips in anticipation and my clit throbs with desire before she even touches it with the tip of her tongue. She torments me with her mouth and lips sucking and nibbling then moving away. A sharp pain startles me and I am unsure of the reason but the pain does not return so I concede to her command. She continues in this way for what seems like several minutes but I can no longer be sure. She raises her head, my blood coating her lips from my labia. The heat rises from my groin to my head and I can feel my face flush as it reaches the top.

As her lips graze the peak of my breasts, I can feel the volcanic rumblings ready to erupt. When her tongue reaches the lips of my mouth, the sensation overwhelms, and I feel the scorch of lava in the hidden crevice between my legs. I close my eyes and I soon feel light-headed and out of control. I am unable to move my limbs in the way that I want to her powers are that strong. I have no desire to leave her now she has made me her willing slave. She has tasted the vitality in my veins and the passion in my groin. Now all she needs is my essence; the part of me that keeps me alive. How can I resist her? Do I even want to?

I have no power and my thoughts surprise me more when I realise that I do not want to stop her. When I finally open my eyes, I find she has gone. I cannot see her in front or, to the sides of me and neither can I sense her behind me. I can only wait for her return. I feel suddenly vulnerable. I am aware of my nudity and I yearn to cover my self-up with my arms. With her absence, her control has also left me and I am able to cover the naked parts of my body.

Suddenly I feel a warm river of a liquid running down my left thigh. My hand comes up red with my blood. There is so much blood I cannot see where it’s coming from. Then I feel the same on my right thigh and I find blood there too. A chill in the air catches my attention and a cold wind blows through my hair. I still cannot see her or anybody else and the room is deathly quiet. My legs are trembling, as my muscles grow weaker. I can only presume that I am losing blood but I still feel powerless to help myself. I sink and my head hits the floor. I make a desperate attempt to stop the flow of blood from my legs with my hands. I feel them pushed aside as several mouths fix hungrily on the blood flow. They move upwards and they begin to feed on my stomach where a new wound has appeared. I can just see the shape of a cross through my hazy vision, the tips of the horizontal line just touching my breasts and the vertical line through its middle extending down towards my pubic mound.

Her face appears above mine and she smiles, softly running her fingertips across my parted lips she gently inserts one finger in to my mouth but I am too weak to suck on it. She removes her finger and whispers in to my ear. “It’s time for you to meet the Master. To be with and serve him as we already do. Then you can join us in the Dance of Death for many times to come.” She moves back to allow me to see the many faces of beautiful women, only I know that it is an illusion that they want you to believe.