Oct 082014
 

suckubeth2clr“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the tart with a heart! Well, I ripped the heart from a person’s chest but they were a good person so it’s a good heart! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“When will my eternal torment end?”

Never, Burny! That’s what eternal means! Speaking of eternal, today’s story is about the timeless nature of a good striptease. I call it, Mystery Dances.”

“Wait, that story?! It is classified as a national security risk! Just reading this story threatens the time/space continuum!”

“I know! It is very exciting!”

“Read on, mortals.”

Marwa was exhausted. She sat down in front of her mirror and stared at herself. Halloween week was always the worse at the Body Palace. Management insisted on costumes for the strippers and the marks loved it. That meant more roving hands, more drunk lies about being millionaires and more weirdoes hitting on her because of her nun costume. She just wanted to get home and wash the sweat and cigarette smoke from her body.

It was nights like these that saving money for college as a stripper seemed like a bad idea. How was she going to become a doctor if she died of lung cancer from second hand smoke? How was she going to want to help people get better when she was starting to hate the sight of people in the first place? There had to be better ways to make money.

“Mystery, some people are here to see you,” Boris the bouncer said. “They look like cops.”

“Cops?” Marwa asked. “For me?”

“Jerry said talk to them in the stockroom. They’re making the customers nervous,” Borris said.

“Fine,” Marwa said. She thought about changing out of her nun costume but fuck it. If cops were going to talk to her at work, they had to deal with her work clothes.

She headed for the stockroom. Part of her was worried about what they wanted but mostly she was happy for the break. Most likely they just wanted to ask about one of her skeevy regulars. She bet it was about the guy with the cat tattoos.

The cops were in the storeroom except they didn’t look like cops at all. It was a man and a woman and they were wearing suits. The man looked as big as Boris but he had a blond crew cut and broader shoulders. The woman was petite, black and bald. They looked like federal agents from a movie.

“Ms. Rahal?” the man said. “Thank you for meeting with us.” He was looking at her face instead of her nun cleavage which was rare for a man.

Marwa shrugged. “Sure, but you’re costing me stage money.”

The woman stepped closer and flashed a badge. It said FBI, but Marwa noticed that she was definitely looking at her nun cleavage. “Homeland Security, sir. I’m Agent Gades, this is Agent Gardener.”

“What does Homeland Security want with me?” Marwa said. “You know I was born in Georgia right? My dad was Persian but he left us when I was kid. I don’t know any of my cousins in Iran.”

Agent Gades put her badge away. “You are not in any trouble, however I can tell you that it is a matter of National Security.”

“Did I do a lap dance for a terrorist?” Marwa asked.

“Ma’am, you possess a certain skill set and physical description we need for an operation,” Agent Gades said. “It is extremely classified but we will pay you ten thousand dollars for your services.”

“Wait, you two just want a Persian stripper?” Marwa said.

“Yes, Ms. Rahal,” Agent Gardener said.

“And you’re paying ten thousand dollars?” Marwa said.

“Yes, Ms. Rahal,” Agent Gades said.

“And there is no sex?” Marwa said. “I’m a dancer, not a hooker.”

“No sex, Ms. Rahal,” Agent Gardener said.

“Fine, you got a deal. But when I’m working you call me by my stage name, Mystery.”

“You have a deal,” Agent Gades said.

“Meet us out back after you change,” Agent Gades said. She took one last look at Marwa’s nun cleavage. “Regular clothes would be better for where we are going.”

Marwa smirked and went back to the changing room. Ten thousand dollars? She would wear a clown suit if they wanted. She shed her nun clothes and put on a t-shirt and jeans. She skipped a bra but did put on some panties.

Outside the agents were waiting by a black SUV with government plates. She wondered if this was really a matter of national security or if they were just arranging a stripper for a coworker. Fuck it, Marwa didn’t care. Wherever they went was better than the Body Palace on Halloween night.

They handed her money in the car. It was in a black gym bag. That surprised her. Normal people would have made her do the job first before paying. Maybe the government paid up front for their lap dances.

Agent Gades drove them further away from town. It was four in the morning and the roads were empty. Marwa knew better than to do any small talk. These two said nothing and Marwa felt they would have lied anyway.

At least they didn’t smoke, that was something. She liked them better than half her usual customers for that alone.

Agent Gades turned down a road that Marwa had never been. It was mostly factories and warehouses. None of them seemed to be open and some of them looked abandoned. It was at one of these abandoned warehouses that they finally stopped.

“Here?” Marwa asked. It looked like a great place for a rape and murder.

The Agents didn’t say anything. They got out of the car and Agent Gades opened the door for her. Marwa got out and followed them into the warehouse.

Spotlights had been rigged up. The place was empty and the blank dark space was overwhelming. Something ten feet tall was in the middle of the lights but a large tarp had been pulled over it.

There was another agent. It was short Asian guy. He was drawing something on the floor in chalk.

“Mystery, this is Agent Gutt.” Agent Gades said.

The Asian guy looked up at Marwa. “Yes, good. I am almost ready.”

“Is he the client?” Marwa asked.

Agent Gardner grunted. “No, that thing is.” He was pointing at what was under the tarp.

“What is going on?” Marwa asked.

Agent Gutt stood up and stretched. “I have spent the last two hours trying to come up with a way to describe to you. I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound crazy and quite frankly, it is classified. So here’s what we are going to do. In five minutes, we are going to pull that tarp down. You will strip and dance for it. Weird shit is going to happen but you keep dancing. You will keep dancing until the weird shit is over and then you will go home with your money. We have a deal?”

“What kind of weird things?” Marwa asked.

Agent Gutt rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Christ, they never take the simple answer.”

Agent Gades touched her arm. “Mystery, do you love your country?”

“What? Of course. Maybe not as much when that racist dickhead was in office but yeah, I love my country.”

Agent Gades nodded. “And would you like your country trampled by an insanity that rips apart society and turns everyone into a raping sex maniac?”

Marwa did a double take. “Uh, no.”

“Then please, Mystery, just dance,” Agent Gades said.

Marwa shrugged. “Okay. Where’s the music?”

Agent Gardener laughed. Agent Gades closed her eyes. Agent Gutt just shouted, “Fuck!”

Marwa shook her head. “You guys are worse than a bachelor party. Look, I’ll play something on my phone.”

She picked some club music that didn’t have words. The beat echoed throughout the dark warehouse. Agent Gades took the phone from her and set it on top of a cooler. Agent Gutt took her by the arm and brought her before the statue.

“When we take the tarp down, just keep dancing,” he whispered.

Marwa nodded. The music was seeping into her body. Her hips were swaying and she released her long black hair from her headband. Dark curls fell on her shoulders and she closed her eyes.

The beat did things to her thighs. The keyboards did something to her spine that made it move. The music soaked into her.

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer Marwa. She was Mystery, and she was here to drive people wild and fill their dreams with longing.

Agent Gardener and Agent Gutt went to remove the tarp. She didn’t wait for them. Mystery danced before her unknown client.

The tarp came down. Mystery’s eyes widened at the sight before her. She felt her heart race but she her feet didn’t miss a step. She kept dancing.

It was hideous. It was made of white marble with sickly yellow veins of something else running through it. The statue was of a woman, and only Mystery only knew that because it was covered in breasts. The arms, legs, torso and face were covered in breasts. The breasts themselves had breasts. Instead of nipples, it had tiny cocks.

Mystery kept dancing. Did she believe the country was at stake? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. When the music played, Mystery didn’t think at all. She just danced.

She ran her hands down her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and she made sure to make the fabric press against her tits. Her large breasts felt tiny compared to the monstrous breasts before her. She ran her hands over her tits, squeezing and pulling through the material of the shirt.

The statue stood there.

Mystery pulled at her shirt, swinging her hips as she slowly inched the material up, up, up and over her tits. She swung the shirt off her body and towards the statue.

It fell before the statue’s feet like an offering.

She danced a little faster, swinging her heavy breasts back and forth. The statue had no eyes so Mystery assigned eyes to two small breasts on the thing’s face. She flirted with those imaginary eyes. She leaned towards those faux eyes and let them see how her tits felt in her hands.

There was a shimmer. More yellow veins appeared on the statue. The warehouse filled with the smell of hot sand.

Mystery danced. She turned around and presented her ass to the statue. Agent Gardener was staring at her and she winked at him. Agent Gades was staring too, her hips slowly moving with the music. Mystery blew her a kiss that made Agent Gades blush. Agent Gutt was the only one not looking at her and he turned to the door.

She turned back to face the statue. It looked different. One of the arms seemed higher than she remembered. There might have been more tits than she remembered. She filed the differences away in the back of her mind while her body kept dancing.

Mystery unzipped her pants. She felt a breeze on her face and she thought she heard a moan. Her fingers pulled her zipped down to reveal electric blue panties.

Thunder rolled. The breeze grew stronger and played with her hair.

Mystery shimmied out of her pants. The jeans slipped down, down, down her long legs. They pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of them.

There was gun shot. Mystery jumped but she kept dancing.

“They are trying to bring the Daughter! Stop them! It is too early!”

Mystery flicked her head to the left, sending her long hair flying through the air. She made eye contact with Agent Gardener who had his gun out. He thought she was looking at him.

“Keep dancing!” he yelled before shooting into the darkness.

Mystery wasn’t stopping. The music wouldn’t let her. The beat was too strong. Mystery’s body was almost naked. Rhythms forged during late nights pulsed through her body.

The statue was leaning towards her now. It looked like it might topple on her. There were far more breasts than before.

Mystery stroked her panties. She pretended to be in orgasmic bliss. A fake orgasm rippled through her body. She stared at the statue with exaggerated lust.

There were more gunshots. Someone screamed.

The music kept going. Mystery slipped her fingers under the waistband of her panties. Doing the same shimmy as before, she inched them down her flowing legs.

Thunder rolled. The tiny cocks on the statue leaked something blue. The smell of burning forests filled the warehouse.

Mystery stepped out her panties and tossed them to the statue. They landed on a thick breast on its hip.

She danced. Free of her clothes she let her body free. Wild motions filled her hips and shook her shoulders. She grabbed her heavy breasts, wild hair and swaying hips for the statue.

“Kill her!” someone yelled. “Kill her before SHE comes through!”

More gunshots. Something burned her shoulder. She stumbled in pain and grabbed her shoulder. It was a cut and she was bleeding.

The statue roared. The tits vibrated with a horrible elasticity. The cocks wiggled. Before Mystery’s unbelieving eyes, it took a single step forward.

There were screams. Popping sounds ricocheted through the warehouse. She looked back. Someone she didn’t know exploded like a balloon filled with blood.

Mystery screamed. She also rose to her feet. Her hips grinded the air as she found the beat. She resumed dancing.

The screams stopped. The statue seemed bigger.

Mystery danced. The song was building to a climax. Mystery writhed in the throes of fake sexual bliss. She stared at the awful statue like it was the only one she had ever lusted for. She told a lie with her body and her dancing hips repeated the lie over and over.

The statue shrunk. It took a step back. As the music slowed, so did Mystery. When the song was over, the statue had resumed it’s original pose.

The music stopped.

“Turn it back on,” Marwa said. Terror gripped her and she stumbled. She wanted to keep dancing. She wanted to keep this terrible thing appeased.

“It’s over,” Agent Gades said. She took off her jacket and used it to cover Marwa.

Marwa wrapped the jacket around her. Her shirt was too close to the statue. She had no desire to go near it.

Agent Gardener was on the ground. Agent Gutt was covering Gardener’s face with his jacket.

There was a lot of blood in the warehouse. It flowed outwards from small piles of chunks of meat. She thought of the popping noises and gagged.

“Who was shooting at us?” Marwa asked.

“Bad people,” Agent Gades said. The black woman was sweating and her lip quivered. “Bad people who were too stupid to know better than to shoot at someone who was serving a higher power. The time was wrong for the statue so we called it now before the time was right. Now it has wasted its energy and will sleep for another decade.”

“Are you guys really, FBI?” Marwa asked.

Agent Gades shrugged. “No, but close enough. We deal with things like this.”

“What are things like this?” Marla asked. She noticed her panties were higher than she had thrown them. They were now on the statue’s face.

“You don’t need to know,” Agent Gades said.

“I have a right to know,” Marla said. “I think I got shot!” She showed her shoulder.

“They just winged you,” Agent Gades said. Her face was angry. “And you know what? You have a right to not know. You have a right to have a few nightmares about this instead of never going to sleep again because you know what it really is and what it really means for all the things you ever wanted to do with your life. So take it from me, you did a good job and your reward is you don’t know what you did.”

Marwa looked away from the statue. She saw Agent Gardener’s dead body and shivered. The pools of blood flowed and mixed with one another.

“Ten thousand dollars and not knowing,” Marwa said. “I’ll take it.”

“Oh Burny, I think every sex story should end in shaking terror and a high body count.”

“Technically there was no sex in this story, Suckubeth.”

“Oh really? Tell that to the avatar of whatever the fuck that thing was. Maybe it had cosmic climaxes just from watching a beautiful woman dance. Don’t project your flaming skull sex-normative values to unholy entities.”

“Wow, I actually feel chastised. Who knew a demon monster like you could make a damned soul like me feel like the judgmental one?”

“It is never too late to eliminate your prejudices, Burny.”

“As for you readers, I’ll catch your souls later.”

  4 Responses to “Fiction: Mystery Dances”

  1. Ooo! She does have a heart! That nice dancer lived in the end.

  2. Ah, cultist. Always exploding into blood. But, at least the Unspeakable Horror got a lap dance. That was a lot of fun.

    • Thanks! Honestly, if you are not ready to explode into blood, you’re not really committed to being a cultist.

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