At the Fetish Parasite

I spent a few hours roaming the streets of Los Angeles. I had nowhere else to go other than meet up with Nigel at midnight. I didn’t want to be waiting for him when he walked in to work because that would look bad. Not only would it make me look desperate, it also might reflect badly to his employers.

The population of LA dramatically changed as soon as the business people left the high-rises and fled the city. They all lived in the valley or as far as they could from the sinkhole that was Downtown. When all the suits left for the day, the true nature of LA came out.

There was no one sipping expensive coffee from recycled cardboard containers in sidewalk cafés, discussing business. There were instead throngs of homeless who moved like zombies through the streets. Sometimes no regard was given to traffic pattern as they meandered in their drunk-walk paths over sidewalks and pavement. Cars would swerve to avoid them and the people lounging in garbage clogged gutters in front of XXX movie houses.

The smut houses weren’t the only places open all night though. Mostly food kiosks that sold questionable food for cheap rates were packed with people. The saddest element of the slums was the people who were actually trying to eke out an existence T The hardest workers, it seemed, were in the country illegally and they were forced to find work wherever they could. Many places employed unskilled laborers, who were immigrants, and paid them less than half what the minimum wage was. If these people, who usually spoke no English, tried to protest, they knew that the immigration could be called on them. Life in the US was tough, but apparently, it was even worse in Mexico. That much was obvious by the fact that they were still here, desperately clinging to “the American Dream” while their children lived in squalor.

I walked past a rooming house that had all the windows busted out of it. On the second floor there was a poor Mexican woman nursing a child as she looked down at me with sad eyes. She probably worked all day while her husband worked all night just to afford the rent for this crappy apartment. She wore a peach housecoat, and even though she was probably my age, she looked decades older. From that room, there were sounds of children playing and I couldn\'t guess how many there were. A lot of the time, one family would sneak across the border and then live with another who was already here. Sometimes several different families shared the same cramped space.

These people had to share their neighborhoods with the drug dealers and prostitutes. Every time their kids left the house, they were prey for murders and child molesters. Child pornographers made a mint off these ignorant people. If one of their children got picked up and sold into the sex-trade, they had no one to turn to, because they were, after all, not supposed to be here. Sometimes children could be “bought” off poor families. It was a win-win situation: one less mouth to feed for the family and they got sometimes as much as five hundred US dollars. Sadly, children were bought and sold to the highest bidder, like any other commodity.

I made my way down to the Los Angles Theater Center and approached the front doors. The street out in the front was crawling with the larval refuse of the day’s castoffs. On the front steps, I had to walk around a guy who was lying in a puddle of what might, or might not have been his own urine. In a corner off to my right, I could see two guys standing back in the shadows. Their backs were towards me but from their grunting, I knew that they were doing. The guy that was pressed against the wall had his grimy trousers around his ankles; even in the dim lighting, I saw all that I had wanted to see. I just hoped that it was consensual.

I tried to pull open the heavy glass and gilt doors but I found that they were locked. I could see that the lights were on inside and Nigel was sitting behind a desk. He looked up at the sound of my knocking and motioned me over to a side door. I had to walk past the amorous couple in the corner to get to the door. I instinctively held my breath. Not only were the degenerates here less than fragrant, I didn’t want to smell the heady gay sex aroma on top of that.

Nigel opened the door and pulled me inside. He wrapped me in a deep embrace and rubbed his hands over my bare arms.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” I replied, “although the air conditioning is on really high in here.”

“That would explain why I am cold then,” he said as he smiled at me. “I’m glad you came. I know you said that you would, but I was still a little paranoid.”

“After last night,” I told him, “I would have been a fool not to accept your offer.”

I dropped my backpack behind his desk so he could lead me around the building. He took a huge Mag-Lite from one of his desk drawers so he could show me all the secret places this building held.

The first thing we did, was take the elevator all the way to the top floor. This was where some rehearsal rooms were and some offices. The most exciting thing about that floor was the entranceway to the roof.

He opened the door with one of his keys and grabbed a chair to prop it open. Since he had the key there really was no danger of us getting trapped out there, but he explained that sometimes the door stuck.

We walked outside into the temperate summer night and absorbed the sounds of the city. We were six stories above street level and the traffic, dirt, and crime had telescoped away from us. It was near impossible to see the stars because of the smoggy haze that blanketed the downtown area. The eerie glow from the sodium vapor streetlights gave the sky an orangey cast that made me think of nuclear winter.

“It is truly a shame that there were no stars to see,” I told Nigel. Besides art, astronomy had been my only other hobby. I would have liked to impress Nigel with my useless naming of constellations, but that would have to wait for another day. Just being out there, made me feel introspective; here I was in my element.

“They are amazing: they wont change in our lifetimes and that is a constant you can always depend on. If everything else in your life fails you, the stars will still be in their same positions in the sky. It makes me feel so infinitesimal when I think of how many stars there are like the Sun in our galaxy. How many planets revolve around all those Sun like stars? How many other galaxies are there just like ours?

“So whenever I think how unfair life is; how I wish I could have been dealt a better hand I just think about how insignificant my life is in the Grand Scheme of Things.”

“Wow,” he said, “how bleak!”

“Not really bleak, just truthful.”

“So, the next time, I start to feel big-headed and believe that the universe revolves around me, I’ll just have you give me a little chat. That’ll nail my feet firmly on the ground!”

We went back in through the roof door and explored the next level. There were production booths and storage spaces. There were some other offices and rehearsal rooms, but these looked like they hadn’t been used as much. There was a pungent smell of urine in the hallways and Nigel explained that he sometimes caught homeless people in these rooms because they were abandoned. We opened one office that had a thick layer of dust everywhere. On the wall, there was decade old calendar. It was yellow with age and silent proof that no one had been here in a long time. All this open space with no one using it, I could see why homeless people could wander in here and not be noticed for a few days.

We explored the other levels and I found many things that interested me. There were intricate passageways that the actors used to get from one side of the stage to another. There were trapdoors and gigantic costume and prop rooms. I felt like a kid in an amusement house. There were half as many floors beneath street level as there was above. This old building reminded me of The Fetish Parasite except there was no sense of danger here. This building seemed to be an impenetrable fortress from the slime that existed outside its doors. I felt like I was in a separate world, alone with Nigel in the theater where we were the only two beings on the planet.

He was showing me one of the subterranean theaters and he pulled me up onstage. He had a remote and aimed it towards the back of the seats and suddenly the lighting shifted. The house lights went down and soft bastard amber and cool blue filtered down on us. He pressed another button and Beethoven’s Eroica filled the theater. Nigel explained that he had been helping the tech crew for an upcoming play and he was familiar with the cues. Although they would kill him if they knew, he nevertheless was playing with it.

It was obvious that he was trying to impress me and it was working. He bowed and presented his hand out to me. I wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted but I took his hand. He pulled me close to him and swept me around the stage. I started laughing and since I had never danced like this before I had no idea what I was doing. I kept trying to lead or have some say in which way my body was going. The result was disastrous.

“Just close your eyes,” he whispered softly in my ear, “And just give up control of your body. Trust me.”

He pulled me close to his chest and wrapped his arms tight around me. I relaxed and surrendered myself to him, concentrating on the sounds of The Third Symphony. Visions of Beethoven’s heroic ideal invaded my senses like Napoleon ravaging Europe.

My legs felt independent from the rest of my body and I just concentrated on not stepping on his toes. After a few moments, I was completely in his power and I didn’t even notice if we were still in the theater or some castle. Even though I was in the clothes that I had stolen off the truck, I was transformed into a brilliant ball gown in my mind. My Nigel held me close and in my imagination he was in a tailed tuxedo. I wasn’t even aware if we were keeping time with the music or if was still playing.

Nigel still held me close, my cheek was pressed to his chest and my eyes were closed. He slid his hands under my shirt and rubbed the small of my back. That broke the fairy tale spell and brought me back to the moment.

He brushed his lips against mine and teased my mouth with his tongue. He pulled me down to the bare stage floor. He leaned over me, unbuttoned my shirt, and slipped it off my arms. He lay down on the stage next to me and wrapped his arms around me. He rested his head on my chest and pulled one of my nipples into his mouth. Even though his mouth was warm, the cold air conditioning made his spittle icy on my sensitive nipple. He covered my stomach with kisses and untied the drawstring on my pants. He parted the fly and ran his tongue down to the edge of my pubic hair.

“You’re not wearing any knickers. You saucy girl.”

He grabbed the waist of my pants and pulled them off in a fluid movement. He angled my knees over his shoulders and dove headlong into my crotch. He started by licking me from my moistened vagina, past my clit and to the top of the fold in my lips. Then he ran his tongue back down pausing to nuzzle my clit with his nose as he shoved his tongue deep inside of me. He lapped at my inner walls while running his upper teeth against the external areas. I was sighing softly at his every touch and without warning he pulled away.

“You smell too enchanting for me to resist fucking you,” he said as he sat up.

“Oooh, and here I thought you were so vanilla,” I said, teasing him slightly.

“Oh really?”

He tore off his shirt and pants like a demon. He paused over top of me and pulled me to my feet. Then he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder. He slapped my ass hard as it rested on his shoulder. I was surprised by his forcefulness and laughed out loud. He carried me to the edge of the stage and set me down on the apron.

He jumped down onto the carpeted floor and spread my legs in front of him. The apron was just tall enough so that we were a perfect fit with him standing and me laying on the stage.

He stood before me, fully erect, teasing me. He rubbed the head of his penis around the outside of my glistening hole, running it over my hardening clit. He pulled back and stroked his rigid penis with his left hand while he stoked me with his right. I propped my feet against his shoulders but kept my knees wide apart.

It was obvious that he was trying hard to torture me by holding back but his resolve was fading faster than mine. Without warning, he grabbed my hips and plunged into me. He fucked me hard and fast. I could feel his balls slap against my ass and there was a sucking sound as he pulled nearly out of me. He kept his left hand on my hips, pulling them hard against his pumping cock. He kept his right thumb running over my clit and he pulled me against him in frantic movements. He leaned forward and started to suckle on my breast again. His tongue ran over my nipple and he paused to nibble softly. As his rhythm increased, his passion rose logarithmically and his biting got progressively harder.

He realized how hard he was biting me when he saw the teeth marks on my upper breast. He stopped his movement and apologized to me. If I were human I might have been in pain, but as a vampire, I felt only pleasure in that. He had stopped and lost his momentum because he thought he hurt me.

I was too hot to have his passion slowed, so I jumped off the stage and this time I laid down on my tummy. I pressed my cheek against the cool stage and looked back at him. He was mutely standing there watching me. I raised my ass up higher in the air, with the balls of my feet barely reaching the carpeted flood.

“You’ve got a great arse,” he told me breathlessly.

“Yeah? I usually can’t see from that angle,” I said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes as if to call me a smartass. He walked up and smacked me hard on my left cheek.

“And you thought I was Mr. Vanilla? I’m gunna fuck you hard.”

His dirty talk was really turning me on. He approached me from behind and slid into me doggy-style. With each thrust, he paused to slap my ass.

“You’re my fuck toy aren’t you?”

I was too shocked to respond. My arms were spread out to my sides but he grabbed them and pinned them behind my back. I gasped because of the uncomfortable angle of my arms but it felt so good! He continued to spew a stream of filth as he slammed into me. Beethoven conducted Nigel as he assumed the role of my conqueror--planting his flag in my soil.

“I’m gunna cum! I’m gunna fucken cum all in you!” I felt his body tense as he exploded inside of me. As he shuddered he slumped down over me, he kissed me between my shoulder blades and rested his head there, trying to catch his breath.

For being an amateur, his forcefulness surprised me. He pulled out of me and helped me back off the stage

“That was intense.” He hugged me, kissing me on the neck.

---------

We got dressed and sat on the edge of the stage. He turned off the music and stage lights. The house lights faded up and once again, we were in a subterranean theater. The harsh fluorescent lights were painful compared to the colorful gels.

“You know why the pinky yellow gel is called ‘Bastard Amber’.” He asked me. “Lighting designers had always looked for a color that made humans look more lively on stage. Pink was too garish, and yellow made them look sickly. Then someone made a mistake and accidentally created Bastard Amber and it happened to be the perfect shade to complement human skin. Clever really, how what looked like a mistake turned out to beneficial.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“About a year, well, ever since I arrived from England.”

“You know so much already, just from working here a year?”

“Well, I really like it, plus they always need people to help out, and I’m always willing. One day when I’m a writer, maybe they will produce one of my plays, if I’m still in their good graces. See, I have my future all mapped out.”

Yeah it seemed he knew what he wanted, and in contrast, I was currently drifting like flotsam on the sea of life.

He entwined his hand in mine and turned to me.

“What about you? What do you want to do?”

“I really don’t know,” I told him honestly, “Life has thrown me a curve ball lately, and I’m in a transition of sorts. I was studying art, thinking about maybe becoming a teacher, although I really don’t picture myself as an art teacher now. I don’t even have a place to stay, so I think I have to overcome that hurdle before I do anything else.”

“Well, then. I think you should just not worry about it, and stay with me,” he told me resignedly. “At least until you get on your feet. Then you can see about going back to school.”

“Thank you for your offer,” I said quickly, “but you don’t even know me. You met me yesterday and now you want me to move in with you?”

“Well, if you don’t want to I understand, but since you have no place to go, it seems like a likely choice for you.”

“I don’t know,” I said, having to choose my words very carefully. “I just met you and I’m not sure that I want to toss all my burdens on you right now.”

“Well, stay with me tonight, then we can burn that bridge when we get to it.”

He took me by the hand and led me back up the stairs towards the rear exit. We had just got to the top of the stairs when we heard the ominous noise of breaking glass on the level above us.

He pushed me back against the brick wall in the hallway outside the theater.

“Stay here,” he warned me. He held his flashlight like a club and made his way up the stairs to the lobby of the theater. It was obvious that he feared for my safety but at the same time, I knew I could take care of myself. I also knew it would be wrong to usurp his authority so I stayed where I was.

I listened intently as he got to the top of the stairs and called to see if anyone was there. There was no response but I heard him walk across the floor over my head. Then the lights flickered and the whole building was plunged into darkness.