Cheating Life

She took me through the back hallways where I saw the girls in various stages of make-up and dress. Whenever they noticed me, I was met with either an angry glare or worried furt, until their eyes flicked down to the tattoo on my arm and back to Jane. She showed me the security room, though only through the glass door, and pointed out the rows of solid-state drives archiving video and audio feeds from every room in use. Each year, she told me, the government sampled the archives to verify certain standards were met. She took me to the investor's office - her hotel wasn't publicly traded, but it was a very profitable business. There was an elaborate cutaway model of a cruise ship the hotel was planning to acquire. She even took me to the morgue and crematory, and showed me how the smoke was reclaimed before it left the building to eliminate the odor, which did nothing for business.

We ended the tour in the diner on the ground floor, where we sat on the same side of a booth, squeezed onto the red vinyl bench so we could both watch the same people. I was still satisfied from breakfast, but she ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup for me, saying I may not remember to get dinner tonight. As I ate, she silently pored over a small tablet from her purse. Then, while my mouth was full, she asked, "Molly or Claire?"

I looked at her for explanation, but there was none, so I swallowed my mouthful and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Choose one - Claire or Molly? First reaction."

For no reason, I said, "Claire."

She seemed pleased, so I finished lunch. She had a taste of my tomato soup while it was still hot, but nothing beside.

xi

Later in the evening, we were back in my cell. Rather, I was in my cell and she was in the doorway, leaning up against the frame. I had written a bit in my journal - a final entry - and set it to expire, so it would delete if no-one stumbled across it and read it in the next few weeks. I'd taken a nap, too. Naps were a pleasure I would miss, but they weren't worth living for. Then I was back at my desk and proof-reading the journal on the computer. If you're going to leave a legacy online, even something as trite and common as a personal journal, it should be well-written.

And now Jane stood there silently, watching me, but not hurrying me. She had changed costume again - she was wearing a black patent minidress, boots, fishnets, and gloves. I thought there might have been a riding crop slipped into one of the boots.

"I have some business tonight," she said, without warning. "It was already scheduled, and with a regular customer - not an ender, obviously. I may not be back in and fresh until after midnight."

I looked up at her with a lump in my chest. My room was fine, but only when I knew she was a phone call away. Suddenly the hotel seemed very large and lonely, and my cell foreign and unwelcoming.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you alone or lock you in your room, though, and I meant it. Claire's a good girl. I think you'll like her - she's a costume player, like me. If you're ready, I'll take you to her room."

I stood, and without speaking I turned off the computer and slid the chair under the desk. In the elevator, Jane seemed to sense my unease when she threw her arm over my shoulder. She was taller than me again. "I truly am sorry we aren't able to spend the whole night together, Duckie, but Claire will take good care of you - I've made sure of that. I've told her a lot about you, too, so I know you'll have a good time. And don't forget: I know what I'm talking about. I'm psychic."

She kissed me behind the ear and lingered as the elevator stopped and the door opened. Then she turned me toward a trio of doors so much like her floor that the center door could have been hers.

"Claire is on the left. She's already inside, and she's expecting you, so just go right in. I'll come find you after midnight. You're going to have fun!"

Then she squeezed my ass and trotted me off the elevator. The door closed behind me and I could hear all that I knew of my present situation whirring away.

With nothing else to do, I passed down the short hallway to the left and tapped at the door. It was ajar and dark behind. The door slid open as I touched the panel. It would have seemed ominous if it had creaked, but doors don't do much creaking anymore. I stepped through and called out, "Hello?"

From the other side of the room, a lively voice replied, "Oh, come on in, Honey. And shut the door behind you!"

I touched the door closed, and heard a mechanism inside snikt into place – another touch on the panel confirmed that it had locked itself. I was in the room for good, now, so I sunk into the deep couch just inside the door. At least the lights had brightened.

Claire's room had the same basic features as Jane's - several sitting areas, a kitchenette, a wall of windows looking out over the city, and a large sunken circle framing an enormous bed. The colors and feel were very different, though - the furniture was some lightly varnished wood or painted an antiqued creamy color, and red brick accented the walls, steps, and windowsills. The room was warm, and everything was decorated to match, but it was too large and uncluttered to be cozy. Like Jane's room, a pair of heavy wooden doors hid in the back corner, but these were open, and light and preening noises drifted from them.

"I'm just taking a moment to touch up; I only got back from a show just now, so I haven't had time to change. Take off your shoes and come sit at the foot of the bed."

I stood again, slipped off the sandals, and walked down to the bed. Jane's was a huge four-poster with intricately cast head- and foot-boards; Claire's was equally large, but lower to the ground, with tiered mattresses and a cushioned bench perimeter. A white fur rug, far too big to be the real skin of any one animal, stretched out in each direction from the bed. This was a bed designed for rolling off of. I perched on the edge of the bed and watched the doors.

A moment later, she emerged. Flinging the doors wide, she threw her arms out to each side, crossed one leg over the other, and said, "Ta-da!" She was... I wasn't sure.

She wore a tall red top hat with a sequin band and a matching swallow-tailed tuxedo coat. Beneath the coat was a deep-necked tuxedo halter-top, a shiny red cummerbund, and black satin briefs. Stockings, tall showgirl heels, and a bowtie choker completed the look. She clutched a bullwhip in her white-gloved hands. As for herself, she was a beauty of the exotic type, with skin the color of caramel, short black hair in loose curls, very dark eyes, and very red lips.

She completed her pose and began strutting toward me, one foot in front of the other like a model. She tapped the loops of her whip in the palm of her free hand. "Tut, tut, my dear, you're rather eager to get started. I didn't tell you to get on the bed yet - I told you to sit at the foot."

My face must have flushed the color of her hat. Wordlessly, I slipped from the edge of the bed, down the several terraces, to sit cross-legged in the thick rug on the floor. I tried to lean back against the bed for support, but the bottom step of the bed, even padded as it was, hit in an odd spot in the small of my back and left me awkward.

"Much better." She caught the bullwhip and rolled the leather between a gloved thumb and finger. "I read your file, you know, before Jane did. I had pulled it, actually, but she has seniority. Pity." She took the steps down the reverse dais slowly, using the opportunity to display the length of her legs and the curve her heels gave her. "Do you know what I read in all of your answers?" Her heels stopped and tapped together right in front of me. She locked her knees and bent over, thrusting out her rear in a cheesecake pose, and lifted my chin with the whip. She didn't raise my head quite far enough to meet her eyes, just the scooped cleavage that hovered before me. "I read that you're eager to please, Honey. She straightened again, and my head stayed angled up. "'Eager' is good. I don't want to have to use this." She shook the whip, then tossed it over my head to the other side of the bed.

She stepped back from the rug so we could get a better look at each other, and rested her hands on her cocked hips. "See, I'm rather frustrated at the moment. I just got back from running our circus for a group of tourists, and let me tell you, I can put on quite a show." She wiggled her hips and ran her hands down her thighs. "I get the crowd all horny and excited, and I keep them there when the ring changes, but at the end of the night, they always want to leave with the girls in the acts." She began to pace in front of me as she worked toward her climax. "The lionesses and tigresses - they get their prey, the ponygirls get their riders, the clowns their prats, and even the acrobats leave with some balls and pins to juggle, if you follow. All I want is my ... one ... mark." She had stepped right up to me, a heel on either side of my legs sunk into the fur rug, and she thrust her satin-covered mons up against my face. "Someone to take advantage of." Her thighs squeezed over my cheeks and chin and she grabbed the back of my head for leverage as she slid down to my chest and up again, like I was a dancer's pole. "Come on, baby, give me something. I need some friction."

My hands found their way up the back of her legs to cup her ass, and after a few minutes of grinding, groaning, and gasping - of her leg hooked over my shoulder and around my neck to hold me in place - of nearly precarious balancing acts stabilized by a quick grab of her gloved hands, pressing my head ever harder into her, we both found our way back up onto the edge of the bed. My fingers had discovered a hidden snap conveniently placed at the bottom seam of her briefs, and my lips and tongue found no further resistance - instead a rather pressing invitation - behind.

Despite her show of force, she rolled under me after her first orgasm, and I undressed us both over the next fifteen minutes. Only her stockings and one glove managed to stay on through it all, until I lay beside her, panting heavily, and I wore only what I came with to the world. She stared into my eyes for a long moment, then kissed me on the lips for the first time, holding my face between her fingertips as she rose-budded my nose, my chin, the shape of my lips, tasting herself on me.

She pulled back again to study my face and judge me. "Jane made me promise to take special care of you. I was not to leave you alone, but she didn't want me to get attached, either. So, I think I'll just keep you so busy that you won't even know when she's here and it's time to leave." She lifted herself to her hands and knees and crouched over me. "Now, I don't think you'll be ready to go again for another couple of hours, but I don't have that problem." She pulled off the remaining glove, one finger at a time. "I wasn't kidding when I said I had a lot of frustration to work out, you know. And Honey, I've got a lot of body that's gonna need attention."

xii

I certainly wasn't watching the time, but her frustrations seemed to be gone after about an hour of my carefully-directed ministrations. She smoked afterward. I didn't, though I didn't mind the smell. I was still building my strength, she told me, so she left me re-clothed and seated at her bar by the kitchenette with a glass of juice and a heated meat pastry. Meanwhile she had disappeared back through her double doors.

She was going to be gone for some time, so after I'd finished and cleaned up, I followed her instructions and used the lighter in the drawer to start oil lamps scattered all over the room. I replaced the lighter, turned the master light switch to off, then found my way to a settee in what was now a moody, darkened corner. I sat on the floor, on a cushion at the foot of the settee. I was a quick student.

She came in her own time, and with no small amount of drama. A very fine mist gradually filled the air, cooling it to a chill, creating flickering halos around the lamp flames, and causing the moon to cast long, eerie beams through the room. I didn't see her doors open or close, but in one moment she stood there, a faint outline of moonlight. Her shape was long and flowing and gave the impression that she glided as she crossed the glowing wooden floor. She stopped several yards away, still hidden in shadow, and bid me stand with a wave of her fingers. She then slid forward deliberately, and the moon caught her full.

She wore a long, filmy gown of blacks and reds, with Elizabethan sleeves and a square bust line. Draping from her fingerless gloves was a bat-winged shawl or cape. I expected to see a high peaked collar as well, but her shoulders and neck were decorated only with a ponderous jeweled pendant and locks of long, curling hair which hadn't been hers an hour ago. Her skin was paler, or seemed it in the moonlight, and her red lips were now a deep crimson. Long polished nails on each finger glistened as she reached out toward me.

She traced a ring under my jaw and around my neck with several of those nails as she circled me, and her gown trailed around my legs. She stopped behind one shoulder and slid the open neck of my shirt down over my upper arm, popping a button open. She leaned closer, and I could feel her breath behind my ear, along my neck as she breathed me in, just an inch away. I heard her tongue slackering behind her teeth. My skin tingled with expectancy.

Then she continued her way around me and took my hand, pulling me toward her as she draped herself on the settee. "Come and sit with me." Her voice was low and thick, and laced with a believable accent. She sat me by her lap, and I reclined against her, so my head lay between her arm and bosom. She stroked my cheek with the backs of her fingers and the tips of her nails, and parted her lips so I could see her long, wicked fangs.

"What are we doing?" There was just the right amount of timidity in my voice.

"Making you wait. Making you wonder, anticipate when I'll bite into your warm, soft flesh." She nuzzled up beside my neck and took my earlobe between her lips, rolling it between her fangs, pinching it just until it stung. "Feeling your heart beat beneath my breast, and imagining the rich, salty blood just beneath your skin. Letting you hear my mouth water and my tongue drip, whispering to you about what else is wet as well." She slid her leg between mine and back out again.

A part of my mind, that small part which always watched me from the outside, bobbed above the waves of immediacy and sensation. I was amazed by her skill in the drama even as I shivered each time she let her nails or lips brush the tender parts of my neck. She whispered dirty things in my ear, and did dirty things without ever moving from behind me, just out of view over my shoulder. Though we were both still clothed, our bodies were twined, and I could feel her skin warming and mine cooling as we mingled. Her voice was constant, sultry, teasing. I listened in stunned awe as her lips murmured threats and promises I won't repeat. The sense of self became saturated in my fascination with her - my captivation by her - and sunk into the bottom of my mind. I didn't even realize she'd slipped a hand into my pants until she held me firmly in her grasp. With a mischievous smirk, she withdrew and ran her nails up my chest.

She caught the underside of my arm and extended it out. Jane's silk binding dangled from my wrist. "The Spider had you in her web last night, did she? What name did she call you, my dear? Who did she have for her dinner?"

My throat was surprisingly dry, and my voice cracked as I spoke. "Argent. Her favorite. ...She said."

"Mmm." She chuckled. "Her favorite, indeed. She must have thought you rather delicious. Sthenopis Argenteomaculatus."

I tingled as the words rolled slowly in accent from her tongue, past her teeth, through her lips. She flirted with the syllables. It was a mouthful I didn't try to repeat. "What?"

"A beautifully marked moth. A particularly plump and juicy moth. A Ghost Moth, it's called. I think she likes you." She let the binding fall free, and our arms came back to the settee together. "But tonight, you're in my arms." She suddenly pulled me tight, and her lips closed on my neck before I could flinch. The kiss was strong, yet her fangs and tongue only played on the surface. She pulled away leaving what was certain to be a prominent hickey the next morning.

She shifted from behind me and I slipped back flat on the settee. Now leaning over me, she caught my nipple between her teeth and flicked it with her tongue.

I shivered and drew in a sharp breath.

"Am I scaring you?" she asked, as she nibbled her way up to my collarbone and hesitated impatiently beneath my chin. "You should be scared. You should be terrified. You're just my type." She flicked her hand, and around the room all of the lamps died. The city lights were hidden behind the settee back, and she was a black shadow over me - a shadow with a cold breath and tongue on my neck. Her gown draped heavily on me as she kissed and bit and licked; her legs spread and a deft hand pulled up the layers of her skirts until she was naked on top of me. Her skin was so smooth and supple, but still cool. With a movement of her hips, she took me inside of her.

xiii

Later, when we were still on the couch and I was laying on my back while she sat between my feet – when I was thinking I might like that cigarette after all - she was idly stroking my thigh with her nails as if to excite me back to action again, and she said (now without the accent), "Jane knows how to pick the good ones." I looked up at her and she smiled sweetly. "I'm opening up to you, Honey. I like you. I like that even when I say that, I can tell you're not one of the bastards who wants to back out of the deal and try to make me his girlfriend. You're determined to go through with it, but you're not angsty or dripping with some immortal sadness that everyone around you has to wade through. You're peaceful. That's so yummy." She licked my ankle to prove it.

I smiled and sighed.

She went back to coursing her still-long nails through my leg hair. "You seem to be enjoying yourself so far."

"Yes... "

"Is there a 'but' I'm hearing in there?"

"No... No 'but' at all. It's just ... unusual."

"What? The costumes?"

"No, they're fun. And I can understand why it might be good for you, too... I think. I'm just surprised at how often both you and Jane want to sit on my face. It's not that I mind it - I like it. Actually, it's kind of my favorite. Is that something in my profile?"

Claire laughed. "No, Honey, it's in your eyes. Actually, it's just a good position so I can do my thing without you - whoever I'm with, not you in particular - talking too much or trying to direct me. Unless you express a preference or you're an hourly, I'd probably end up there anyway, but you really seemed to enjoy it. If I hadn't promised Jane I'd give you back in one piece, I'd probably still be there. It's my favorite, too." We smirked at each other.

She lay down beside me and pulled me to her breast. "So are you excited ... being fucked to death?"

I suckled her nipple - that's what she wanted - and didn't answer until she let me go. It gave me enough time to come up with an honest response. "Don't take this the wrong way - I wouldn't want to change a thing. But the fucking is more of a fringe benefit for me."

She held me back from her so she could study my face. "But you willed everything to us, so you're not just a turnaround. There was nothing unusual in your background..." Her eyes hardened. "Are you some kind of fetishist?"

It was my turn to laugh for once. "No."

"No... I didn't think you were. Beside, Jane can pick out a fetishist right away. Well, I give up - I'll bite. What are you looking for in a death by vampire?"