This is the penultimate part of the Clarissa stories. I hope you enjoy it and the final chapter which follows in a couple of days. And if anyone can tell me who to credit the gorgeous lady vampire to I’d be grateful.
The communal dressing room of the Pink Kitty stank of cigarette smoke and stale beer, their malodorous partnership fortified with an earthy undertone of blocked drains. Guido didn’t believe in maintenance unless it was absolutely necessary. The dressing room and the main club were in the basement of a Victorian bonded warehouse, only the entrance was above ground, behind two sets of steel doors as old as the walls around them.
Clarissa stood in the open doorway and regarded the performers for a few moments. There were seven or eight girls milling around in the cramped cupboard of a room.
The lighting was yellow, partly because of cheap tungsten bulbs but mainly due to the envelope of each one being coated in nicotine. Young faces, struggled to apply their stage makeup, peering into cracked age-speckled mirrors. The contrast of their lithe bodies clothed in bright provocative costumes set against the decay around them could not have been more stark.
Clarissa wondered if it was the nature of the job or the decrepitude of the backstage facilities at the club that would grind them down first. She placed the complimentary bottles of wine in front of each mirror, with a plastic cup for each performer. Guido like the girls to be a little mellow before they performed. It avoided problems if the punters got a little too touchy-feely.
“Shall I take some water too?” Clarissa had ventured.
“Fuck that, they’ll be pissing all night and when they’re in the bog they’re not earning.”
So contrary to Guidos instructions to, “Give em that Hungarian red that I can’t shift”, the girls were treated to six bottles of Haut-Brion. After the “interview” Guido had been very businesslike and told her she would be spending her first few nights running errands and getting to know the Pink Kitten before she was allowed near the poles and private rooms.
That suited her. While the idea of floating around a pole in front of entranced males thinking with their cocks had a certain appeal, she wasn’t in the mood. There were other matters that needed to be taken care of. Clarissa paused, momentarily turned to stone by the gravity of the situation she was in. She must confront them, tonight, in just a few short hours …
One girl caught her eye, dragging her from her musings into reality. To Clarissa her soul appeared to be in its mid twenties, though her skin seemed a little older. Late nights, smoke and bad diet conspiring to hasten her passage into middle age. She had been, no still was unusually attractive. A strong face full of character, dark brown hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a tiny thong and similarly inconsequential bikini top, both in red lurex. Despite her obvious fatigue and the effects of her career at Guido’s her soul still had a spark that drew Clarissa.
The girl was ready to go on stage, eyes slightly glazed apparently in hazy contemplation of the night ahead. She felt the weight of Clarissa’s stare and looked up. She smiled weakly with moist eyes. Two tears, the distillation of heavy regret, rolled down her cheeks.
“I know. It’s alright.” Said Clarissa, reaching out and laying a hand on the girl’s shoulder.
The girl stifled a sob.
“Come with me Sarah …”
Sarah looked quizzically at Clarissa, they hadn’t met before, “Guido pointed you out when you arrived earlier.” Lied Clarissa.
Clarissa led Sarah to Guido’s office and unlocked the door.
“We’re not allowed in here unless …”
“… you’re entertaining him, I know.”
“How did you get a key?” Sarah asked. “He doesn’t even let security in here.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Clarissa giggled mischievously.
The door was now locked and the only intrusion in to the room was the dull thud from the sound system twenty meters away through several brick walls. Guido’s foul smelling cigars had tainted everything, their carcinogenic residues slowly bleeding back into the air from every surface.
“It’s Claire isn’t it?”
“Ah. What did you mean back there in the dressing room? You said I know’. You know what?”
Clarissa paused for a moment. “I meant I know what it’s like to feel thoroughly pissed off with your job and …”
The word was like a slap in the face to Clarissa, she was lying and being found out worried her. She could pass by people in the street she had known for years and make them not see her. She could move silently through the night to find her prey, suck them dry before rending them limb from limb at the orgasmic climax of her feeding frenzy, yet not be discovered.
It shocked her so much because this girl had known. Had she dropped her guard because of the desire that was building inside her? No, she didn’t think so. Maybe she was something more than just another human.
Sarah held Clarissa’s hands and looked into her eyes. “You know exactly why I’m unhappy.”
And then Clarissa did know. Before she’d even tasted Sarah’s blood she knew. Luminous tendrils of consciousness streamed out of Sarah, she had a gift and knew it. She just didn’t know quite what to do with it. It made her feel alone, different, paranoid about her uniqueness. Ever since she was a child she had tried to hide it from even her closest friends. Clarissa stopped herself delving further, her abilities were developing too fast for her to cope with and reaching into a soul as bright and alive as Sarah’s was making her dizzy.
Sarah slipped an arm around Clarissa’s waist. Soft lips pressed against Clarissa’s. So the kindred spirit in Sarah found Clarissa as attractive as she found Sarah. Whatever the outcome of the evening to come it was starting well.
Clarissa’s hand came to rest on Sarah’s buttock. She squeezed, feeling the toned muscles, letting her nails dig into the lightly tanned skin. Sarah’s tongue slid into her mouth, the taste of red wine accompanying it. A slow passionate kiss ensued, tongues merging into one hot, slithering mass of muscle. Their hands moved slowly, both of them relaxed behind the locked door of Guido’s office.
Clarissa slid a flat palm across Sarah’s stomach, down, down until her fingers pushed aside the fragment of shiny red fabric covering her mons. A digit delicately parted her labia, lubricated by the increasing wetness of Sarah’s pulsing sex and gently rubbed her clitoris. Sarah opened her legs slightly, inviting Clarissa to probe deeper.
Clarissa reach around Sarah’s back and lifted her effortlessly across to Guido’s desk. Sarah lay back, looking up at Clarissa. “You’re just like me, that’s why you knew.” Sarah smiled.
“In some ways. In my experience we’re both quite unique. I’ll show you how different I am later, until then …” Clarissa slid two fingers inside Sarah, finding her g-spot and massaging it. Sarah shrieked, and cried out at the top of her voice “Jessssuuuu-aaahh”.
Fingers slowly and mercilessly moving in the hot chasm of Sarah’s pussy Clarissa brought her to the point of orgasm and held her there. She teased Sarah, watching her writhe, savouring the fragrant raging stream of fluid flowing from Sarah’s pussy. Sarah’s eyes implored Clarissa to allow her the sweet release she craved.
Clarissa leant forward, leaning against the desk and pushed aside the shiny red fabric covering Sarah’s breasts. Clarissa’s tongue traced the outline of Sarah’s areola soliciting grateful moans. Sarah wriggled and undulated under the twin onslaught of Clarissa’s hand and mouth.
Clarissa sucked one nipple into her wide open mouth engorging it with blood. She flicked the it with her tongue then circled it, enjoying the texture of Sarah’s areola, moist with her saliva. Clarissa’s teeth closed around the nipple. She released her suction and held Sarah’s breast under tension between her incisors. For a moment she bit a little harder, enough to make Sarah cry out in pain, then released her breast and its now bright red summit.
Finally, their eyes locked in a gaze that communicated more than words ever could Clarissa granted Sarah her wish. Sarah tensed and moaned a low, long moan, arched her back and finally, like a spring uncoiling in slow motion came to rest on the desk. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open breathing deeply.
Clarissa could feel the moistness of her own inner thighs, her pussy craving for attention, but there was not time. She decided to save that delight for later.