htm Hybrid Misfit (5 page)

I exited through the rear curtain and made my way to the dressing room where I shrugged a see-through, lace babydoll over my skimpy bikini—think teensy tiny triangles held on by string. I ran a brush through my snarled locks, cursing when the bristles caught.

I forced myself to slow down and breathe deep. My impatience stemmed from my eagerness to see and talk to Simon and Gene again. I wondered what brought them by—and then chided myself for my coyness. I knew why they were here. To see me.

Confidence restored, I finished brushing my hair and freshened my makeup. I killed fifteen minutes before I finally exited into the club—a girl should never appear too eager. My iron will kept me from skipping over to them like an eager puppy with her tongue lolling—but my anticipation was still apparent in the damp crotch of my panties.

Refusing to give in to my hormones—even as anticipation increased my level of horniness—I worked the room, speaking to my regular admirers and accepting with smiles their bills stuffed into my bra. I rewarded them with light touches across their cheeks or hands that fed me their desire while making their eyes glaze over in pleasure.

Thus, did I slowly make my way to the bar where, with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, I greeted the guys with a simple “Hi.”

Simon chuckled, his low rumble vibrating through me with more effect than the bass of the music blasting. “Nice show.”

Gene, the irreverent one, grinned at me devilishly. “I think I’ve found my new hang out spot. And, might I say, I look forward to receiving a private performance.”

Simon elbowed Gene, who grunted, but continued to smile with twinkling eyes.

Odd, with any other man, I would have probably become offended. Gene was so brazen and cocky, but I liked it, just like I enjoyed Simon’s more subtle admiration. The reason, I realized, was simple. I was the one causing the reaction, not my abnormal side, and under their obvious admiration, I bloomed. And grew even hornier.

“What brings you guys slumming?” I asked, sitting on a stool between them the short skirt of my lace cover-up stopping just short of my crotch.

“Just out for a drink,” said Gene.

“We wanted to see you,” said Simon with an honesty that shocked and pleased me.

“I’m glad you came,” I said. In truth, I hadn’t stopped thinking of them, and I’d fought the urge to call them all day.

“When are you finished?” Simon asked. “Can we take you to dinner?”

“Ah yes, dinner. We’re so very
hungry
,” Gene said with a wink and a leer that had me laughing.

Once again Simon glared at his friend and I grabbed his closed fist between my two hands—the man was freaking huge! “It’s okay, Simon. Given my profession, I get the innuendos a lot. I’ve also discovered the ones with the biggest mouths usually have the smallest dicks.” I said this with a mischievous smile at Gene. My sly rebuke didn’t cause him to blush or get angry; instead, he laughed.

Simon relaxed his fist and curled his fingers around mine. “Don’t worry, what he lacks in size next to me, he makes up for in innovation.” The subtle innuendo coming from him caught me off guard, but soon we were all laughing, which, I had to admit, was different than my usual experiences with men. Grunting, sweating and bellows of “Oh my God,” tended to be the more usual interactions I had with the opposite sex.

“Listen, I’ve got another set to do and then, if you don’t mind waiting, we can go for dinner.” And then back to Simon’s place or Gene’s bottle for dessert. My succubus side would be well fed tonight, and if I was lucky, maybe they’d feed my dark side, too. I wondered what drinking genie blood would do to me? Which reminded me, I still didn’t know what Simon’s other half consisted of.

Before I could ask, Claire came up, wearing her waitress costume consisting of a short black and white maid’s outfit along with a bunny tail and ears—the irony of it made us laugh like fiends at home. “Hey Trixi, who’re your friends?” she asked with a bright smile and eager eyes.

I introduced Gene and Simon to her while reining in a suddenly jealous side that reared its head with a snarl at the interest in her eyes. She looked them up and down and then in a mock whisper said to me, “You’re right, they are yummy.”

With a mischievous giggle, she hopped away leaving me facing two grinning men.

“Cute friend,” said Gene. My eyes must have turned green or smoke must have billowed from my ears, or some other noticeable sign, because he quickly added, “If you’re into herbivores. Me, I prefer a girl who likes to sink her teeth into me while I sink into her.”

Simon simply added. “Your bunny friend doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Mollified, even if I didn’t understand my unreasonable jealousy, I chatted with them about the club for a few sets.

At a signal from the bartender, I made my excuses and went out back to change. For my next number, I pulled on my darker side and I dressed to match the part. Black latex undies that zipped up the front, tight bustier held on with laces, fishnet stockings and lethal high heels. A coating of dark makeup with a blood red lipstick and I was every man’s fantasy of a girl gone bad.

I strutted onto the stage to the thumping rhythm of Rihanna’s song, “S&M.” A hush fell over the room as I started to dance.

My skin tingled and I had to concentrate on my motions as I found myself self-conscious knowing Simon and Gene watched me avidly. I went through the motions for my second act in a heightened state that made me breathe hard. Usually, I could run through my routines with my eyes closed while compiling a grocery list, but having Gene and Simon following my every move, added an element of sensuality to everything I did. When I grasped the pole—thick and hard—between my hands, I undulated my hips at it while locking eyes with Simon’s burning ones set in a face tight with tension—the sexual kind.

When I pressed my breasts around the pole, cupping and squeezing them, Gene’s wicked smile tightened my nipples and sent a rush of moisture to my cleft.

I undulated, skimming my hands down over my body and closed my eyes, momentarily forgetting I was onstage. I danced faster, my motions erotic, my mood even more so. Gasps and sighs came to me faintly even with the booming music. Flicking my eyes open, I almost stumbled when I saw the front row—my fervent perverts—panting with glazed eyes, their hands hidden under the table.

I bit my lip as I realized my own sexual interest radiated out to touch the humans in the crowd. Not that they were complaining, several already wore satisfied grins.

I almost ran from the stage when my act was done. I was so horny, an emotion I didn’t have much experience with. I provoked desire—I didn’t suffer from it. When my succubus side required feeding, it made me stalk sex in a very clinical manner, but even when I’d starved that side of myself, I’d never found myself in the grips of lust.

Until now.

My cleft throbbed and my panties were a wringing, wet write off. My nipples were puckered so hard I wasn’t sure they’d soften without some oral attention. I was tempted to lock myself in a cubicle and stroke the bud between my legs to relieve some of the sexual tension. I abstained. Horny as I found myself, I enjoyed the sensation, for it meant I wasn’t just a monster who fed on sex and arousal. I could want and need sex, the pleasure that came with touching and fucking because I was a woman. It turned out I just needed the right man—make that men.

Going through my clothes in the locker, I lamented the fact that nothing I had stored was appropriate for a dinner out. My least shocking ensemble consisted of a black skirt that barely hid my ass, a ruby red blouse and ballerina flats—which I used in my college coed routine.

Tucking the blouse into the skirt instead of trying it under my boobs, toning down my makeup and securing my hair into a neat chignon, I managed to look like a high priced hooker instead of a street one. Shrugging, I gave up my battle with my clothes and hoped I wouldn’t suffer the embarrassment of being refused service for being underdressed.

Maybe I can suggest we pick up Chinese food and head back to their place.

Having made plans to meet them out in the alley so as to not get delayed by clients looking for lap dances among other things, I headed out the rear door manned by Bruno who lamented the fact Bernie had walked off the job and not returned.
Poor Bernie.

“Nice act tonight,” the club manager said, holding open the door for me.

“Who says it’s an act,” I replied blowing him a kiss.

Bruno just shook his head. For a man who managed a strip club, he was pretty straight.

The guys waited for me just outside and I smiled upon seeing them.

Gene’s eyes lit with mischief as he looked me up and down. “And here I was hoping you’d still be wearing the latex.”

“Oh, but I am,” I replied impishly.

Simon’s eyes flared bright for a moment and I warmed at his interest. With Gene, I knew where I stood, but with Simon, I had to pay closer attention.
Such different personalities, and yet I’m drawn to them both.

We stepped out of the alley and I felt like the gooey, creamy filling sandwiched between the two of them. We commenced walking and to my surprise, Simon’s thick fingers found and curled around mine. To say his holding my hand pleased me was a vast understatement. It almost made me want to cry.

Say what you would, there was something about holding hands that was intimate, cozy; it made me feel like a precious thing and I preened under the glow of his attention. Not to mention, because of my illness, I’d never done the whole dating thing with boys. And since my change into a walking menace to society, I didn’t so much date as fuck for food and run.

We’d only walked a few blocks when a dark shadow stepped out from an alley, a hideous creature that I recoiled from—not that I got to see if for long. Simon, who surely had some ancient knight’s blood roaring through his veins, tucked me behind him, shielding me with his own body.

I swear the man knew how to press my emotional buttons.
Aw, dammit, the jerk is going to make me fall in love with him.
Say what you would, a protective man was a hot one.

Gene didn’t slack off either as my escort. A ball of flame formed in the palm of his hand and he tossed the fiery orb back and forth, his casual threat more menacing than words.

Oh yeah, so totally hot, too.

I peered around Simon’s large form, shuddering as the vision of Hell before me brought back memories of my incarceration—and my past meeting with the benefactor who’d unwillingly provided the darkness to my DNA.

Taller than my gentle giant, the demon stood before us, a hulking evil presence, whose oily, murky aura ringed him fatly.
He’s old, as old as Simon, and nasty.
Bright red eyes stared right at me, the evil promise in them making me shudder. It sniffed loudly through two holes in its face, the lack of nose giving it an alien visage. The disgusting creature flicked out a black, ridged tongue to lick the tips of its pointed fangs.

The demon didn’t speak so much as it hissed. “Step away from the female. My business lies with her.”

Gene spun his fireball on the tip of a finger, Globetrotter style, and replied in a soft voice, “Consider your business cancelled. The woman is with us.”

A rusty chuckle from the evil one saw me clenching Simon’s shirt as I tried not to react vocally—screaming didn’t seem like a good idea, yet. Super sexy succubus and part vampire I might be, but faced with a creature from Hell—yes, Hades did exist—I was a shivering coward. I still well remembered the words of the captive demon upon our forced meeting.
Human bitch, know that when I escape I shall tear open your body and feast on your innards. I shall abuse every orifice in your body and create new ones. I shall…
Needless to say, the demon the government captured and used in its experiments wasn’t happy they’d donated his DNA to mere humans. When they’d accidentally killed him when testing his reaction to an injection of angelic blood, I’d breathed a sigh of relief, because I’d had no doubt the confined one would live up to his promises. But apparently his death was not the end.

With a mental shake, I forced myself not to let my mind stray as I paid attention to what happened before me.

“Foolish Ifrit. The abomination cannot be allowed to live.”

Hey, he’s talking about me. I think.

Simon growled drawing the attention of the demon.

The demon flicked its forked tongue and narrowed its eyes. “You keep interesting company,
ís dreki
. And here we thought your kind extinct. My master will be most interested in knowing of your existence. Now, do the smart thing and hand the female over. You wouldn’t want to draw the annoyed attention of the one I serve.”

“Perhaps it is you and your master who should tread cautiously,” Gene replied. “The girl is under our protection. So, if you want her, you’ll have to go through me and my friend here first. Somehow, I think the prognosis for your success and continued stain upon the world isn’t so good.”

The demon looked as baffled as I did. Gene, with his flowery words, had confused the subject. Simon cleared it up with a simple, “Touch her and die.”

I must be a sick puppy,
because his simple announcement totally raised my arousal level.

The demon gnashed his teeth and his eyes flared bright, but he stayed his hands—make that big, nasty claws. “Have you forgotten the words engraved on both the walls of Heaven and Hell?”

“Whence walks the one tainted unnaturally with the essence of darkness and light, the world shall tremble and the planes known as Heaven and Hell cease to exist out of time.
Hail beautus unus, suus cruor vadum attero fines finium…
” Gene recited some strange passage that started in English and then went all gibberishy. It made absolutely no sense to me, but seemed familiar to them. Just another thing that I didn’t know since I hadn’t gotten my membership card to join the club of Fucked Up Beings.
Great.

“She must be destroyed like the rest of her brethren in the great cleansing.”

“No.” Simon bristled in front of me. “She’s different than those tainted creatures. Look at her and see her humanity. She is not like those twisted ones.”