Alfred Lee Aprox:
3734 words




Queen of the Night

by

Alfred Lee



Billy's Bar was known in town to attract a certain

clientele, the kind that usually only came out at night

during 'working hours' if you know what I mean. Tonight was

no exception.

He walked into the bar, the scent of death all over him,

all dressed in black, his three quarter length cloak flowing

to the floor covering any menace that might be hiden

underneath. The backlight hit him just enough that all was

in the shadows except his eyes. They, along with his

shoulder length hair, were as black as his clothes, his stare

going right through you.

As he walked into the room, all went quiet. Heads

turned towards him as he strode across the floor and time

sort of stood still like everything was in slow motion. As

he approached the corner of the bar, the people there kind of

melted into the background, giving him the space his stature

demanded. Finally someone breathed and the normal hum of

life returned to this already dismal atmosphere.

"I'm looking for someone," he said to the barkeep with

just a hint of Aussie accent, "and a drink to wash down the

dust in my throat. Make that a beer, a very cold beer. You

Billy, like the name outside on the sign?" With that said,

he slammed down a twenty and a ragged picture that looked

like it had been pulled out of his shirt pocket one too many

times.

"Yea," said Billy as he grabbed a frosted mug from the

frig and poured a Mick from the tap.

"Ever see this girl in here before? I was told she

might hang out around these parts."

The bartender placed the mug of cold beer he had on tap

in front of the stranger, glanced towards the picture and

shook his head no as he started to walk away.

The stranger's muscular arms shot out from under the

cape and snatched Billy by the back of his head, yanking him

backwards to where his face was directly in front of the

mysterious guest. His arms rippled as they protruded from

underneath the darkness of his outer garment. The light

caught hold of something, a quick sharp sliver of silver,

causing a prismed reflection to dance on the wall mirror

behind the scene unfolding in the often gloomy surroundings

of Billy's Bar.

"I asked you a question, Billy, and I expect a nice

mannered gentleman like yourself would rather give an honest

answer before stuffing this twenty in his shirt, am I right?

Now when I let go of you, I'd better here an answer or I'll

be forced to crush your larynx and then you can talk through

a hole in your neck and sound like an ad for a cancer

commercial; do I make myself clear? Shake your head once for

yes and twice for surgery."

Billy was still shaking his head affirmatively after the

stranger left go of him. With much quver in his voice, he

spoke, "She comes in here about once or twice a month to pick

up some action and then leave with it. Usually an out-a-

towner much like yerself but more of a loser. You know, the

travelin' salesman, polyester type. One's that are here for

only one reason and probly won't be back till they're in town

again. She's about due, I'd say. Ain't been here since

about two weeks ago. Always comes on a weeknight. Always

wears black. Shows enough T & A ta git the job done and

don't talk to any of the reglers."

Billy had coughed through most of his little speech so

it was hard to tell when he was done. The stranger had taken

it all in.

"I'll take my drink in the far corner over there, in the

shadows. You give me the nod if she comes in, okay Billy?"

"Yea, sure, Mister. Anything you say just don't mess up

my place, alright? I'll help ya out just take yer beef with

her outside please?"

"Not a problem. The lady doesn't even know me. Just

let me know when she first arrives and I'll be her action

for the night." He picked up his drink and slinked over to

an empty table in the far corner, shooting a little wink

over his shoulder and a confirming smile.

Hardly anyone took notice to this whole scene as it

played out, minding there own business as usual.

Along about 12:30, the bar door opened and a well

packaged bit of sin on two long legs sauntered into the room.

The stranger looked towards the bar and got his

acknowledgment from Billy. "Showtime," said the stranger

under his breath as he slowly walked over to the center of

the bar.

He looked at Billy with an almost distant look; one of

an entirely different persona. "Mr. Bartender, I'll have

another beer if you please." He sounded like one of the many

pencil pushing nerds that came to frequent his bar through

the week.

The lady picked up on him immediately. She adjusted

herself just a bit and then walked that walk her kind did

when they were working, like a bayou fisherman trolling for

alligators.

"Buy a lady a drink, stranger?" she said as she leaned

in towards him, dipping down to rest her elbows on the bar,

showing her wares in the low-cut mini dress, barely covering

dark black hose, garters belt to match showing just a hint of

sin, and 6" stiletto heels. Saying it was a tight dress was

a bit of under statement. A snakes skin was not this tight.

Breathing for her was like an added bonus for anyone that was

in the right line of sight. She had the right equipment and

certainly knew how to use it... like now, for instance.

"Mr. Bartender, also bring one for the lady, please.

Tell the man what you want."

"I'll have a champagne cocktail, Billy, but Mister

that's not what I want. What I want is some conversation and

not to be alone tonight. Would you mind keeping me company?"

"Not a bit. Please join me at my table?"

"I'd be honored." As they picked up their drinks, she

walked ahead of him so she could continue the show. At the

table, he sat in the corner so he could look at her and still

keep an eye on all else, including the large neon lit clock

above the bar.

"So tell me, what's your name and what's your game?"

she breathed. Sipping her drink, she then slowly licked the

excess around the edge of her glass, her tongue tipping up a

bit as she leisurely sucked it back into her mouth.

"Well, if you must know, my name is Carson and I'm just

passing through on a little vacation to see the west. No

wife, family or anything like that. I had a relative but he

died so I'm just footloose and care free.

"May I ask you a personal question? I see we have the

same taste in clothes as in color of fabric. Any particular

reason you're wearing black? Just asking, no harm meant by

it." Carson took a long hit on his own drink as he waited

patiently for her reply.

"None taken. Why, yes, there is a reason for black but

its not because I'm grieving for anyone, it's just my

favorite color. There is another reason but I don't want to

scare you away." She paused for effect then went on. "Do

you like adventure, Carson? Would you like to have an

invitation to an adventure you will remember the rest of your

life? One you will tell your grandchildren about? When

there older and can understand?" At this, she leaned back in

the chair, spread her legs so he could see that she was

wearing stockings, garter belt and nothing else.

"I think I can safely say I have never had that kind of

adventure, Miss..., Miss..., I don't believe you've told me

your name."

"No, Carson, I did not and if you don't mind, I'd like

to keep it that way."

"Well, I guess that just makes it even more exciting in

a way, doesn't it? All right, Miss, lead the way to my Great

Adventure."

After leaving the bar, it was just a short drive to the

outskirts of town where her loft was waiting for them. She

asked that she be allowed to blindfold him and promised not

to let him trip and fall.

Very trusting, he had put his well being in her hands.

Inside, the warmth of a fire was felt, the pleasant odor of

scented candles permeating the evening air.

She asked him to go behind a screen to remove his

clothes without taking off the blindfold. As he came out

from behind the provided protection for some modesty, he

heard her suck in a breath of what sounded like one of awe or

amazement. Not being able to see her expression, he could

only guess.

She broke the silence first. "You asked me earlier

about why I was wearing black: if it had any significance. I

will now tell you that it does." At that, he felt himself

being placed in handcuffs and taken to another room. She

placed his arms above his head and attached them to some sort

of overhead hanging device with the handcuffs but it did not

feel uncomfortable.

"Now, Carson, if at any time, you want me to stop, just

say so. I may or may not, depending on the urgency in your

voice. Oh, a little fyi: this room is soundproof as is the

rest of my loft so feel free to thoroughly express yourself,

saying anything that might come to mind. The more vocal my

lovers are, the better time for both of us." At that, he

felt an ever so slight stinging sensation as she stroked his

bare buttocks with a cat o' nine tails made of what felt like

furr! Mink, perhaps?

"Then you're into S & M? I guess I'm in for quite a

ride! I will let you continue only if you promise we can

trade places later?"

"Not to worry, Carson. I intend on fucking your eyes

out! Meooow!!" She picked up the pace with that outcry of

tribal passion, whipping him with harder and faster strokes

all over his genital area, his buttocks, chest and back,

bringing him up then slowing down again, playing him like a

fine violin.

She attached a cock ring to him and then some sort of

clamp to his testicles that seemed to give her even more of a

rush then it did him. All this while rubbing her nakedness

across him, allowing her hard nipples to just barely touch

his very erect penis, causing it to spasm upwards with

anticipation.

After whipping him with various accessories, she

sponged him down from head to toe, then gave him a tongue

bath that started with the sucking of his toes, licking him

all the way up his rigid torso, just getting close enough to

his manhood, teasing without actually taking him into her

wet and sensuous mouth. She finished this foreplay by taking

her talented tongue up from the bottom of the crack of his

buttocks very slowly and then spreading his cheeks to allow

her hot friend to dart and dance all around it and then

finally slowly working its way into its intended goal.

During all of this, Carson was feeling various heights

of ecstasy, constantly going up and down the scales of

pleasure mixed with occasional flights of pain but never

enough to make him want to stop. A night to always remember,

she had said to him. Words not to be taken lightly, that's

for sure.

Finally, after almost two hours, his body tensed,

muscles taunt, she licked his ear and whispered, "All right,

my Cheree, it is now time to turn the tables.... if you feel

you are ready?" She placed the key in his hand and watched

as he unlocked his bonds, not in as big a hurry as her past

conquests, but more with preciseness.

He removed the blindfold and held her in his strong

muscular arms, brushing his full wet lips against hers ever

so lightly. As the kiss proceeded, it began to take on a

mind of its own, lasting for a very long time, the passion

building until she was clawing at his back, digging in those

long nails with powerful down strokes, surely causing serious

gashes in his back but never hearing even a protest of any

kind from this man of steel.

Then, without warning, he slammed her backwards into the

wall, fingers entwined with his high above their heads.

A droplet of sweat had found its way down to the tip of

her right nipple and he traced its path, using his tongue of

equal talent, culminating in his taking her entire teat area

into his mouth and suckling on it as a newborn. A small cry

of delight found its way up from her diaphragm out into the

night air that sounded more like a whimper announcing to the

world that she was experiencing sensualities far greater than

she had ever had in her long past.

Then, he fastened her to the restraints that once were

his and proceeded to tease and tantalize every pour of her

skin, leaving not one untouched. Her body was dripping with

anticipation of what he might do next and no matter how good

she thought it might feel, it was always better. This man

that had fallen into her trap was giving her an adventure of

her own. She may have to change her plans and let this

develop into a real relationship. It was very hard for her

to concentrate on anything else other than where his hands,

fingers, and tongue were going to go and what they would do

next. There would be time enough for that later.

Before she had time to react, he spun her around and

around with his hands touching her everywhere, teasing her

vaginal lips, her ass cheeks, her nipples, her mouth: he

seemed to be all over her at one time!

With her head spinning as fast as her body, he abruptly

stopped her and pulled her ass up into his crotch, his cock

slipping inside her with the greatest of ease as her wetness

was evident with the telltale trails down her thighs. Not

unlike the nursery rhyme of Goldielocks, he was not too big,

not too small: he was just right!

Her mind could no longer think straight as it allowed

herself to talk dirty even though in her past she had never

done so as she enjoyed hearing her captives beg for just

that.

"Your cock feels soooo goood, Carson! Fuck me with that

hard stiff prick! Harder, harder! Don't stop! I'll do

anything, anything you want!" she begged.

"I just want to please you, Connie. Am I doing that? I

want to give you the time of your life, too," he said

smoothly with all the calmness of a used car salesman closing

a deal of a lifetime.

He continued to talk to her in this manner, using all

the same words and phrases that she had used so many times on

all her unsuspecting prey of the past.

They came together at almost the same time, she first,

followed immediately by him. It went on for quite a long

time, both of them grunting almost beast like with screams

intermixed.

Finally, as he pulled himself away, his member spent and

satisfied, her body went limp and hung from the metal bar

above her.

"Damn, that was truly incredible, Carson. I can safely

say I have never in my life cum like that before. You are

truly talented. I hope it was as good for you?"

As he strode from the room, going behind the screen to

retrieve his clothes, she suspected, he waited to answer.

"Yes, it was quite pleasurable for me too, Connie. It
is

okay to use your name now since we have become so intimate?"

"Yes, I guess so but, now that I think about it, I don't

remember telling you my name as I never use it when I....

ah... go out." She was almost a bit embarrassed telling him

this as it lends to conjure up she does this a lot. No one

should have to know this, especially Carson, now that she had

decided to let this go on. She was sure he wanted it too

since their sex had been so incredible.

"Would you mind unlocking these? I want us to take a

shower together. It's very large with three shower heads, a

built in seat and plenty of room for further activities, if

you like." She sounded so coy and childlike.

He still wasn't making any attempt to find the key!

Surly he did not intend to go around again like this?

"Connie, do you remember me telling you I had a relative

that died?"

Connie nodded her head in agreement.

"Well, I want to tell you a little story about him. His

name was James. He was reported killed in an auto accident

many years ago in the fifties, his car going off a pier

somewhere. His body was never found. He also was supposedly

seeing someone new, an unknown to his friends and followers.

He was somewhat famous at the time. At any rate, it took a

very long time for me to piece all the puzzle together but

after many years, I was able to find out just who that girl

was. She was about your size and her name was Connie also."

Connie had begun to feel her body tensing up. She was

afraid he had other ideas than sex on his mind and was

starting to play mind games with her.

He took a step towards her and a line of age that she

hadn't noticed before in the bar was crossing his face. It

was a gloomy smoky room and his car was dark also. Who was

to notice things like that in this candlelight during the

heat of desire?

"Let me cut to the chase. You see, Connie, I know who
you

are and, more importantly, what you are." A satanic grin

found its place in his smile towards her.

She was now visibly shaking with fear and wrenching her

naked body, desperately trying to free her bonds, to no

avail.

"You were just starting out as a child of the night

after being bitten and left for dead by your benefactor. You

did not die exactly but, much like the myths of Stoker, you

did not fare well in direct sunlight nor did regular food

find tasteful to you.

At first you only preyed upon small animals until you

found that only their still beating hearts and nothing else

could sustain you and keep your young and youthful

appearance over the years. After a while, you grew tired of

this savage attitude towards life so you tried your first

human, a derelict. From then on, your diet of at least 2

males per month had to be kept or the aging process in rapid

order would overwhelm you. How am I doing, Connie?"

There's that damn smile again, she thought. How could

he know all this? Who is this man? Why has he come here?

Death can not take me, surely he knows that? If only I could

free myself! Thoughts of all kinds crept into her mind as

she dangled from her own trappings of bondage.

"Here's the twist or should I say twists to this

gruesome tale. The young man who met his death by your hands

was my grandson. You pushed his car off that pier on that

fateful night and disposed of his heartless body the same way

you do with all the others: in a homemade lye pit, much like

the one I found earlier this week in your back yard.

"The other twist is I was the one that made you this

way. It was a very long time ago and I thought I had left

you for dead. Before I could carve out your heart, I was

interrupted by the police and had to flee the scene, so to

speak. I honestly did not mean to leave you alive. Fate

stepped in and used you to get back at me. The irony of it

all. At any rate, I have given you what you always promise

all your victims: an adventure to remember the rest of your

life. This, Connie, will be the last day of your long tragic

life. For I, Carson Dean, knows how to rid the world of the

likes of you."

At that, he produced from under his cape lying near his

feet, an ancient weapon: an arced blade, very sharp on one

side, with an elongated handle at one end. Tears were

streaming down her cheeks as well as his.

"A kiss farewell and into this dark night you sleep."

He kissed her softly on the lips like a lover kissing

his new bride goodnight and then with one swift motion, swung

the cleaver through the air, catching Connie at the nape of
her

neck. It went through her soft flesh and bone like a hot

knife through butter.

As her head separated from her shoulders falling into

his waiting hand, her aged body reacted immediately, turning

to dust and misting to the floor below.

Carson swept up her remains in a paper cup, walked out

the back door and glanced towards the heavens as something

occurred that his tired weary eyes had not seen in over a

hundred years: a sunrise. Before the pain was too much for

him, paper cup in hand and fully dressed, he whispered aloud,

"Come my bride, let's go and sleep together," and stepped

into the center of Connie's private bath for her lovers.

"All is forgiven."



The End