At the Fetish Parasite

I stumbled my way back to the club. I had come to a stop just before the passageway that lead to the back entrance and paused there for a second. What was I going to tell them? I found it very hard to think because my head was pounding from the open gash in my head. My shirt was soaked with gore and I imagined that I looked a lot like Carrie on her prom night. I wasn’t wearing a bra and my wet shirt was making my nipples hard as it brushed against them. I realized that I really didn’t care about what I told them because I just needed to lie down and have my wounds tended to.

I started down the passageway and saw a figure in the doorway. I really wasn’t planning on meeting anyone and I could imagine what a freak show I must have looked like. It appeared to be a woman of indeterminate age, sleeping in the doorway. She was dressed in rags and waves of stench wafted off her. It was a horrible mixture of vomit, urine, body odor and other indescribable scents that clouded into a miasmic funk.

“I need to get past you,” I told the grotesque vagrant.

She looked up at me and snorted. “Fuck off,” she slurred, followed by hacking and spitting a wad of phlegm that resembled of a large slug. As she spun her head around, she had to close one eye to focus on me. The momentum sent another surge of this woman’s aromatic bouquet. I felt nauseated as the stink washed over me.

This horrible wretch was keeping me from my sanctuary and making me sick to boot. In my tired and wounded brain, she became the focus of all my rage. In her, I saw my mother and remembered a time when I was young and my parents were fighting. As they yelled at each other, my mom was trying to get me ready to go somewhere. She was sickly thin, due to a long time drug addiction. Her skin was a grayish-yellow color that seemed to match both her hair and eyes.

My father didn’t want to hear her bitching so he kept walking away from her, and she followed him. She was in the process of putting my hair in a ponytail, and she dragged me from room to room by my hair. We had polished hardwood floors and I couldn’t manage to keep my footing on the slick surface. I wasn’t able to stand upright to take the pressure off my hair. The dull throb of my current headache pounded the buried memory of being suspended aloft by my mother. Now, my memory had turned my mother into a monstrous gorgon. I remember that I was screaming and crying for her to let me go, and that was just the catalyst to make my father grab his keys and leave the house.

After he had left, I was alone with her; he walked away from her in the middle of an argument and she blamed me. She screamed at me that I had taken his side, and that I had backed the wrong horse. She threw me onto the floor and I hit the wood hard with both of my knees. The pressure was off my hair but now my knees had been knocked hard--they had still been bruised a week later. After throwing me in my room, she turned off the light and slammed the door shut. I could hear her turn the lock and I was locked in for the night. She had installed the lock on the outside as a deterrent to me climbing in bed with them at night when I had nightmares. I ran to the door and pounded on it, screaming that I was sorry and that I would forever just side with her if she just let me out. My begging was answered with silence. I had felt a thin trickle of blood running from my right temple, just in front of my ear. My skin had been torn slightly at that spot where my scalp had tried to pull off from head. I didn’t understand what I did to make my mom so angry, but I pleaded through the door all night. I eventually fell asleep crouched in the corner. My voice was hoarse and I never quite came to terms with that night. About a week later, my mother had left, for good. In hindsight, it was a good thing but to a child it was heartbreaking.

As the memory of that forgotten time swept over me, I looked down at the wretch at my feet. Sookeooked nothing like my mother, but in my mind, it was she. I reached down and grabbed a handful of her ponytail. She tried to pull free of my grasp and in my mind, the tables had been turned. She was taller than me so I wasn’t able to lift her above the ground but I pulled her hair so high up that she strained onto her toes. The muscles in her exposed neck were taut and I believed I could see her blood as it flowed through her jugular. In one quick and fluid movement, I dragged her into the doorway of the club before she could continue screaming.

Actually, who would really care about some homeless woman screaming on the street? It was a common enough occurrence that no one paid any attention. It was as common to hear a cry of “Murder!” as it was to hear the cry that “Jesus was coming and we all need to repent our sins!” Her shrieks just blended into the cacophony that was the Hollywood area after dark. As soon as I got her into the doorway, I slammed the door behind us. I no longer noticed the fetid stench that encompassed her; now she only smelled as alluring as a freshly baked apple pie and my mouth watered in anticipation. I punctured her life-flowing veins and took a long draught off her font, satiating my hunger and my anger. I drained her body until there was nothing left but a dried husk of a human shell. Her corpse felt many pounds lighter in my arms and somehow more brittle. I felt a nice warm feeling, like after Thanksgiving dinner when you are full of comfort foods. My stomach felt bloated and I realized that I was crying. I dropped the body to the floor with a thump and took a long look at her.

In death, this woman looked less like my mother. She had stringy gray hair that was pulled into a ponytail and wrinkled skin that looked like old parchment. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl and I could see what was left of her smile. She was missing several teeth and the ones that she had left looked like the gnarled centers of Good N’ Plenty’s. She was a waste of a human life and a drain on society, but I was truly a monster. I was suddenly overcome with grief and guilt for what I did and I knelt down next to her corpse. I scooped her into my arms and hugged her tightly to my chest, venting all my sorrow and rage in choking sobs. What was this emotional outpouring? If I was going to be this emotional after each kill, I could see myself dying of starvation. As I wiped away my tears, I felt that the pain in my head was gone. I reached up and felt that the wound had closed and the bone had knitted together. This woman had died so that my own wounds could heal.

I carried her body down to the lowest level of the building. This building was built around 1900 and it was originally a bank. Over the years, it had changed hands several times and had been reincarnated even more times. There were four levels below ground, and these levels more resembled a dungeon than a former office building. On each of the levels there were winding tunnels and a series of rooms, one of which was my own. On the lowest level, there was a concrete tunnel with a rusted iron grate in the floor.

Underneath this grate, the Los Angeles River flowed underground, and in February when Southern California actually got rain, this whole tunnel would flood. I opened the grate and stuffed her corpse in there not bothering to see whether it floated downstream or got lodged on something.

From the depths of the building, I couldn’t hear the din of the music but I knew that club would still be in full swing at this time of night. I found my way back to my room without having to run into anyone in the passageways. Once there I got cleaned up and I changed into fresh clothing. I was thankful that Brietta was not in the room, she probably was off tending to a newer fledgling of the group. I sat down on the edge of my bed with my head in my hands.

What was I going to do? I had killed one of my own kind and that was a cardinal sin among vampires. If what Claire had said was true then everyone believed that I was a spy. No one would believe my innocence even though I had killed her in self-defense. I needed to get out of here especially before Dominic found out what I did.

I quickly left from the same passage that I had killed the vagrant in. There were some splatters of blood there but otherwise there was no evidence that I had even been here. I started walking east with no clue where I was going. I made my way down Sunset Blvd. until it changed into Caesar Chavez. I was now in Downtown LA and the sun was going to come up soon so I needed to find a place to sleep through the day.

Downtown was even worse of an area than Hollywood. I had a little money so I found a cheap motel on Spring Street that rented rooms by the hour but I got one for the day. On my way in, I saw some toothless hookers and some drug dealers. I paid in advance and made my way up the hallway to my room. The place smelled like there was a dead skunk that had crawled into an open sewer. My room was little more than just a bare mattress that was stained with what looked like blood. The mattress rested on a rusty metal bed frame, with flaking lead based paint, that had seen better days. There were holes where I could hear the faint scratching of rats inside the walls. I really didn’t care what hovel I was in because I was so tired. I didn’t sleep on the bed but instead shoved it against the door to prevent any of my “neighbors” from trying to get in as I slept.

I had fitful rest throughout the day especially because every hour some new tenants would occupy the room next-door and I could hear the exaggerated screams of what was supposed to be passion emanating through the paper-thin walls. Sundown couldn’t come fast enough for me because I had to get out of this place. With the exception of the poor living quarters, I could see myself living here. There were many people here who I could envision myself killing. These people were poor, and destitute but they seemed to love it. I also had a hard life but I hadn’t given up. I held these people in the utmost contempt, they were just like my parents, why bother doing something legitimately when you could get away with everything illegal? Why get a job when you can sell drugs or your body? Why not spend what money you have on another hit even though your children are starving? In my mind, these people deserved to die and as soon as I could kill them the sooner that we would no longer be plagued the their presence.

As the night came, I made my way out of the room. In the foyer, just before the street, a huge man stood guard over the door. As I walked to pass him, he grabbed my arm. He was a fat Latino man, and his dark skin had a greasy sheen to it.

“You’re new here aren’t you, baby?” He looked me over eyeing my curves through my clothes. He had a long scar that ran from his ear to his chin on the right side of his face. It looked like it was years old but I bet it caused him constant stigma because that is what everyone would notice when they first saw him. “You didn’t seem to have much business all day because you never left your room. Well, baby, I can see about getting you some action. A hot young body like yours will draw us lotsa cash.”

“Sorry, buddy,” I said as I jerked my arm away from him, “I’m not interested in anything you have to offer.”

He ran his tongue over his lips and grabbed his crotch. “But, baby, you haven’t seen what I have to offer yet,” he told me. Then he pulled me close and shoved me up against the wall. He was easily a foot taller than me and I could smell stale beer on his breath. He fumbled with his belt with one hand while he tried to hike up my shirt with the other. He was sorely mistaken when he thought I would be easy prey. I instinctively raised my knee right into his crotch. He instantly doubled over in pain and I grabbed him by the collar and led him outside.

“That’s no way to treat a lady for one,” I said coolly dragging him into an alcove nearby. “And two, you have no idea who you are dealing with.”

He tried to punch me, but I ducked his punch and kneed him again in the groin. This time he dropped his hands off me and fell to his knees. He turned and vomited up all the contents of his stomach.

Drunken pimps, what easy prey.

I jerked his head roughly to the side and bit deeply into his neck. I managed to drain him quickly before anyone would notice what I was up to. I left his corpse there but I covered it with a flattened cardboard box so it would escape detection while I had a chance to get away. No one would miss this guy.

I wandered north and before long, I was in Chinatown. I wasn’t as familiar with this area but I’m sure there would be something interesting to pass my time. The night was young, and I had already fed so I should be good for the rest of the night. I heard music coming from a side alley and I turned down to investigate it. It came from a bar that was underneath a restaurant. The music was live jazz and there was quite a crowd mingling outside smoking. I ventured inside and walked up to the bar. There sat the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t extremely tall but he had icy blue eyes and black hair.

I couldn’t resist so I introduced myself. His name was Nigel and he was originally from England. He offered to buy me a drink but I had no idea how alcohol would effect me, if at all. He told me that he was in the LA area studying writing at the Los Angeles Community College. I was immediately impressed with him and spent the remainder of the night trying to get into his pants. There is just something about Englishmen, the way they talk maybe, and their accents that make them sound so intelligent. I drank heartily and I found that my tolerance for alcohol was more; because before long, Nigel was stumbling and I was totally coherent. He told me that he lived within walking distance of the bar and asked if I would accompany him back there. The whole night we had talked but he never tried to make a move, how gentlemanly!

We made our way back to his “flat” as he called it, and once we got inside, he offered me a drink. It was a single studio apartment so it was like being ilarglarge room that served as his kitchen, living room, and bedroom. He seemed unusually nervous once we were alone and in his place. I could tell so I grabbed him by his belt and pulled him next to me on the couch. I grabbed him and started to kiss him. He fumbled to get me out of my clothing and I stepped back and helped him. I slowly undressed in front of him and when I was unclothed to my underwear, he pulled me onto his lap. He teased me through the material and I could feel him swell underneath me. One of his hands stroked me through the crotch of my panties while the other fondled my breasts. I grew wet and I put my head back, so the back of my head was resting on his shoulder. He spread my legs wider over his legs and he teased his fingers into the elastic at the crotch of my underwear. I felt his finger tease its way across my wet lips and snake its way into me. I moaned softly and he kissed me on the side of my neck. He plunged his hand fully into my panties and used all four of his fingers to massage me. I rubbed my crotch over his hand and I turned slightly to kiss him. He pulled his hand away from me and looked at me.

“You know, this isn’t typical of me,” he said. He was blushing and he seemed that he was going to say something else but stopped. I sensed that there was something more so I slid off his lap.

“Well, you’re not the only one, I also have never picked up on a guy in a bar,” I told him honestly. In fact, I had only slept with two men in my entire life and one of them turned me into a vampire, but I kept that to myself.

“No,” he said. “I have never even slept with a woman.”

He could see the panic start to set in my eyes and he quickly told me that he had done lots of other stuff but never that. His ex-girlfriend was very religious and wanted to wait for the wedding, but there never was one. They had broken up and it was his cross to bbecabecause no woman wanted to be the one to take his virginity. After a few years, he moved to the Los Angeles area to start his life over.

“I understand if you’d want to leave,” he told me honestly.

“There is no way I would want to leave,” I told him. “But what I really want to know, is why did you tell me? You could have just said nothing and I would have never known.”

“Well for two reasons: First I thought you would somehow know, like if I did it wrong or came too soon. The second was because I thought you should know.”

I laughed then kissed him so he would know that I wasn’t laughing at him. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him close to me.

“As for doing it wrong, its impossible,” I whispered into his ear, as I was gently kissing and nibbling on it. “And as for coming too quick, then we will just have to do it again!”

“Your enthusiasm is contagious,” he chuckled as he turned to kiss me deeply.

“You just relax and I will take care of everything,” I told him. I unbuckled his belt and helped him out of his pants. After all, I was sitting there in nothing but my skivvies and he was fully clothed; not fair! He pulled his shirt off in a quick movement and I pushed him back on the couch. I slid his boxers down and his fully erect member sprang up as soon as it was released. I could see that he was uncircumcised and that gave me a surprise. I have never seen one like this, and I wasn’t sure what exactly to do. Nevertheless, how different can it be?

I placed my lips softly on the head and tenderly sucked his foreskin a bit back. He gave a moan that I hoped was excitement and pleasure but I wasn’t sure. I ran the flat of my tongue over the sensitive underside suckling softly and using my hand to stroke his shaft a bit. I concentrated fully on the head, letting it explore every area of my mouth, while my hand rose up to meet my lips before sliding back down. He felt so warm in my mouth and before long, my hand was covered with spittle and his pre-cum but I kept up my sucking and stroking technique. In an instant, he sat up and begged me to stop.

“You’re going to make me cum,” he said apologetically, “and I really want to get a chance to make love to you.”

I eased his cock out of my mouth slowly, ing ing my lips over every part. I could tell he really wanted to come but he was trying hard to hold back. “Don’t worry, you will get the chance,” I said quickly, “but now don’t worry about it. Relax and just enjoy this moment.”

No sooner had he laid back on the couch than I wrapped my lips over him again. I sucked him deep into my mouth, pulling him into my throat, and teased with my tongue all the way back out. He was moaning and he was thrusting his hips. I reached one hand up and pinched his nipple. I increased my stroking and sucking and in no time, he shot my mouth full of hot cum. I swallowed it down feeling the thick fluid in my mouth. I had never liked the taste and it usually made me gag, but now I related the fluid to blood and both had the same general feel in the mouth. I suckled the last dewy drops off the head and with every flick of my tongue he seemed on the verge of screaming. He pul pulled away from me telling me that it was a little too sensitive right at that moment. I laid my head on his hip and watched his hard-on fade away.

“Wow that was intense! I’ve always heard that sex was better than getting head but after that I can’t imagine anything being better!” Then he caught me by surprise, pulled me up to him, and kissed me. He didn’t even seem to care that just a minute ago I had his seed in my mouth.

We laid there in each other’s arms kissing and caressing, and before too long he was ready for another go. He tugged my undies off and without pausing a moment I rolled him over so he was on bottom and I lay there kissing him. His cock was rock hard against me and I slid down slowly planting myself on top of I s I sat up, using my weight to let him glide fully into me. I rocked my hips back and forth and I kept my eyes on his. He looked at me with such admiration before closing his eyes and enjoying this fully. He reached down to play with my clit while I fucked him and I was rapidly approaching orgasm. He pulled me off him and laid me down on the couch. I was so close to coming, and from pulling me off of him, I was afraid I was going to lose the momentum. He grabbed me by my knees and spread my legs wide. He rubbed the flat of his tongue hard against my clit, pausing every now and then to nibble or suck. I exploded in a torrent of ecstasy that seemed to linger for at least five minutes. When he was sure I was done, he pulled my legs up so my ankles were resting on his shoulders.

He lay on top of me and I could feel his skin start to sweat. He braced his hands at the sides of my hips and continued to furiously plow away in me. He was totally in the moment and just selfishly plugging away. He must have realized because he stopped and looked down at me.

“Is this okay?” He asked me. “We can change positions if you rather.”

“No, this is wonderful,” I told him. “You do whatever you want. You’ve made me as limp as jelly, and I’m yours to fuck!”

He smiled at my crassness and continued to pound into me as hard as he wanted. Suddenly he gasped and collapsed onto me. I could feel his hot ejaculation filling me. He grabbed me close, hugging me and gave me a kiss on the neck. He fell asleep like that, on top of me, and partially inside of me. I wrapped my arms around him, loving the feel of his weight on me. The sun was starting to come up so I too drifted off into sleep.