Sunday, December 6, 2009

Christmas in Vermont: A Freak Sorority Short by Stephanie Becken

Dad, Uncle, Son and Grandpa. Rachel grinned when she saw the table only two feet from the stage. Three generations of sweet Vermont sexual energy pointed directly at her. It was the best stuff she’d found yet. Like their maple syrup, Vermont men seemed to ooze the very sweetest energy.
The music was thumping faster, her turn on the stage nearly over but she was making the best of her feeding time. Her tiny white blouse and school girl plaid thrown to the side, only a pink thong stood between her and the men in the club. Even the little scrap of fabric felt too much separation when generations of horny men watched her every move and wished she was going home with them. It was a heady feeling for any succubus and the reason she maintained distance from her meals.
Sex could be like candy for her kind. Too much caused problems, but it was so hard to stop when it tasted so very good. So she kept her distance and didn’t tempt her control. Leaving dead lovers wasn’t something she ever wanted to do.
She pressed her breasts together and made a round with her hips, and gave her lips a long, wet lick. The groans were audible and the last hard wave of desire kicked the edge of her starvation. With the holidays season so busy at her job at the library in New York City, she’d put off feeding too long and had been hurting when she made it to the dressing rooms. The infusion of lust and desire had her ready for the night.
“Bad school girl,” the announcer said over the speaker and Rachel headed down the stairs into the crowd. “And now, for those of you who got too excited over our naughty student, our head nurse is here to take care of all your aches.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. Starla was next, dumbest broad she’d ever met, but the busty Latina kept the men on edge and she was more than willing to reap the energy. The other girls stripped for the money and only did lap dances if they were super broke or couldn’t find one of the others that was. Rachel was always up for feeding closer to the source. Nearly sex, emulating sex, no nasty corpses with hard-ons after.
She heard her name. He might have even whispered it but her hearing was phenomenal and he knew it. Being an Incubus, Tommy had many of the same super demon features in his handsome body as she had in her sexy one. Both were nearly copper colored with dark auburn hair, they had a glow that humans thought made them look especially healthy. Tommy’s eyes were dreamy blue and he never traveled without a bevy of beautiful women trying to throw themselves at him. She was able to tone down her looks with cover-up powder, drab clothes and dark rimmed glasses in her regular life, but all done up she beat Tommy’s beauty out of the water.
“Private request for you,” he said. She didn’t waste the time only listening. With eyes still on her despite Starla’s performance she bent at the waist to fix her shoe strap, thrusting her minuscule covered ass high in the air and swaying it gently. The pours of her skin like little mouths to absorb the energy, she felt another burst. She would need many more to be satisfied. “Nice ass shake. So anyway, a couple baked potatoes waiting in sitting room A.”
“Hot and loaded, thanks Tommy.”
He was good about getting her what she needed. Stuck in a nor’easter two years earlier, they’d had to make due for three days and she hadn’t known better than to kick him away when he started eating. She’d been sick for days after that experiment, their energy not at all compatible but she’d kept him from starving so he always looked out for her.
The private rooms were just as the name implied, a place where clientele could get more personal attention. Nothing illegal was done but a little more touching and teasing happened. She turned into the room and drew the curtain. Not too private for safety sake.
Not that any human would stand a chance against a succubus, but the thought was nice. She turned in and froze. The dark was no problem, most succubae could see better in the dark, just like they could hear and smell better than humans. The smells filling the room hit her hard and sent true lust through her body.
Two men sat with drinks and food at the small table in the center of the room. One was husky, hairy and delicious in his own right. The other was more lithe, finely structured and the most handsome creature she’d ever seen. He also had the scent of the gods mingled with his humanity. For many demons it was kryptonite. For succubae it was catnip.
“Oh hell, Suckmedri,” the bigger one said and Rachael realized he wasn’t quite human either. “It was too much to hope for a hot little Asian. Succubus, I’m outa here Nick. Merry Christmas.”
Her hand shot out on its own accord when the burly man tried to pass. He stopped and didn’t move away when she curled closer, taking a deep breath at his neck, “Mmmm, shifter.”
“Yep, but I might as well be dog food with that one around,” he said and jerked his finger toward the one called Nick. “I’ll be back another night though, hot stuff. Have fun Nick, you lucky bastard.”
“Oh, I will,” the other said and Rachael reluctantly let the shifter pass.
One of her best friends was a werewolf and they’d had loads of fun when Kate went through her questioning sexuality phase. Shifter energy, be it werewolf, bear or pigeon was heady and delicious, like aged steak and fine wine. The man still waiting at the table was a vintage of something else all together. She stepped closer, his attraction exotic and undeniable. Blonde curls covered his head and his eyes were bluer than Tommy’s she saw as his gaze moved along her body with appreciation.
“I was not expecting to find one of the dark daughters in a strip club,” Nick said, jerking her out of her observations. “Although I admit, it’s fertile feeding ground. I thought most of your kind prefers the more…intimate sort of nourishment.”
“I am definitely not my sisters,” she agreed, her voice so throaty and raspy she barely recognized it but his eyes flashed in desire at the sound. She nearly hit her knees when a burst of sexual power erupted from him. “Damn, that’s good. It’s like gingerbread and candy canes and krumkakka.”
“Hmm, a treat from the past and one of my favorites. And you’re right, I am very good,” he agreed, moving to his feet and languidly closing the distance between them. “Just as I suspect you are. I want you naked. Now.”
“It’s against rules,” she told him, a little drunk on power, but still in control.
“Then leave and we’ll get a room,” he replied, stroking the side swell of her breast with only the edge of a finger tip but it could have been a full grope for the impact she felt.
“I’m not that kind of succubus,” she gasped and made herself step back. “I don’t screw strangers and however delicious you may be, you are still a stranger.”
He tilted his head and Rachael braced herself for anger. Whenever other creatures found out what she was there was wariness. When they found out she wasn’t going to sleep with them, there were usually consequences. She’d learned to defend herself in her thirty years on Earth but however much she told herself she didn’t care, being called a tease, slut, whore and devil still hurt.
“Hmm, a succubus with standards,” he finally said and she wanted to revoke her rules when he smiled at her with appreciation and desire. “Rare, especially in this century and for one so young. Tell me succubus-“
“Rachael,” she interrupted. “My name is Rachael.”
“Pretty name. It suits you. I am Nicolas Kringle,” he replied, holding out his hand.
She accepted, the warmth of his palm against hers a smorgasbord of energy, “Seriously?”
“Yes. Perhaps you haven’t heard that name as your years are so few, fewer than fifty I would assume?” She nodded. “I thought so. You’re as clean as Christmas snow aren’t you, little Rachael?”
“Not quite,” she said and laughed.
“I know these things.” He tapped his temple before handing her a card. “Naughty and nice is my business and you, my dear, are definitely nice. I’ll be busy through the twenty-seventh but will return home after. Look me up if you’re ever in town.”
She watched as he walked out of the room. She’d never seen a man saunter before and couldn’t imagine any except Nicolas Kringle making it sexy.
She looked at his card and laughed out loud. Who’d have thought? Not only did Santa frequent strip clubs, he also lived three blocks from her apartment in New York.
Merry Christmas indeed.

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