Complexity is the Majestic - Book 2

Succubus Trade

Ally gives me another moment to go out. She visits her sisters, spends the night leaving me to wander and pace the room- go out, club or no club.

Of course club.

What else you gonna do, work? You always work. Friends? The older ya get the more "notice" your friends need for a get together. Everyone needs notice and an agenda. Clubs are agenda-less zones of wonderment, least they should be. Sure you have an agenda, but its just spend cash, thats it.

I get to the club and its crowded. Hungry souls around every table. They look like demons. Dark, stark figures in this purple sheen of a laser light show. Hardly any girls present- who ever is running this club is fucking up I think to myself. Ya need about another 20 women in here, these cadavers in chairs need more pussy.

Popcorn on my table, first club i've seen with bowls of popcorn. I love that it has a snack machine by the bar. So outa place, so outa class. The annoying waitress, one of the biggest downsides to the club these girls that never remember my name and nag ya every 10 minutes to buy a shot. The club feels cheaper when ya get pestered. The other club didn't have that. I'm disliking the elevated stage more and more. At first it was good for getting a nice vantage point on a girl, but the more I watch girls dance the more I feel the stage is away from me, not for me, not inviting me. Maybe it lacks a girl on the stage that makes me yern.

Vera no where in sight. I'm always mix of happy and sad when I see that. Happy that she's working and i can chill for a bit before i get closed and pulled into a VIP. I like to chat a bit, but it comes at a cost, and if theres a lot of guys like there is tonight, I won't get chatter from Vera, not unless I lock her down in a VIP. Sad in that I wonder if she's working, if I don't know for sure, I won't waste my cash on anyone else- not usually. I don't want a stripper, I want Vera. If you're gonna spend as much as I spend in a club, its not gonna be for just any succubus- its gonna be for the one i connect, and feel, and want the most.

For a moment I feel the desperation of the club. I feel the wanting the dancers have as they stare at the room filled with men and no one tipping, no one recognizing them. I feel the isolated darkness surrounding these men. Each one dealing with some twinge of despair, like me, fleeing or embracing some aspect of the majestic.

Desperation turns into marching orders in my brain- I gotta get her outa this. Seeing Vera wander thru the men, each one a desperate cadaver... like me? Is that me? Is this what it is the succubus trade? Every night i'm not here, she's with someone. From a few dances to VIPs, this is her trade. From talk to tricks, to dances and desire. She turns it on, assumes the persona named Vera, gets blasted on tequila, fades, endures- enjoys? She enjoys this- the cash yes, but she enjoys this place, this trade?

Climbing up the spiral staircase I wonder a bit. Where will tonights VIP take me? Beer, shot a patron, the usual. I drink less, she drinks more. The banister, my old friend how have you been. I enjoy the cherry walnut some dark wood finish, i like how it feels leaning over it, standing in the little room of desire. I enjoy seeing her lean against it even more. Tall in her heels, long legs, thighs exiting on to the highway of those hips, abs smooth yet firm, shoulders, should I go on? That stare? Standing there with her, she's beautiful. Seduction unfolds, this is the price I pay, this moment unraveling in time.

Fifteen minutes in and its apparent- she's got a lot on her mind. She's somewhere else. Her eyes unwilling to make eye contact, her muscles less commanded by mind and more so by gravity. I know this VIP, its one of those ones where she's not really here. She's thinking about something.

"You're close to him.. more so than me... i worked with him for 4 years..." she said straddling me, getting into position.

She's talking about Joe, her night manager of the old club, before the implosion that sent everyone scattered across the state. I've been meeting with Joe lately- here's a guy that worked for the club for some 13 years, in his sixties and then bam, no more. She and Joe have a strange relationship- he's like a father to her in some instances, wise and lecturing and then the boss in others, firing her, nearly every six months or so she'd get fired- too drunk, too something. A brat after all, she knows it, gleams to it. When I first met her, I likely knew her for a few weeks before she got fired. Talking to her on the phone while she was in tears on the other end- was moving to me. I was thrilled to actually talk to her outside the club, I was just bummed that this was the instance in which it would occur. But maybe thats my role. I forget myself.