On the House

 

“It’s on the house, brother. That guy over there paid for it already.” The bartender handed you the Amaretto Sour, and pointed down the empty bar to a guy at the end. You didn’t recognize him. It’d be impossible for you to forget a gorgeous man like that. He shot you a glance with two big blue eyes, and you felt your stomach drop. He winked at you, grabbed his drink, and walked away.

In your head, you know he wanted you to follow him. Trying to play it cool, you causally glance around the bar, hoping to see where he ended up, only to see him by the entrance to the smoking alley. He’s still watching you with that adorable smirk on his face. Despite the muscles, tattoos, piercings, and all around bad boy persona, there was a sense of genuine innocence behind his eyes. You knew he was a good catch. You down your drink and the remains of a tequila shot next to you, and approach the guy.

Up close he’s even more delectable than before, his breath smells of Orange Tic Tacs, and a sprawling white smile stretches across his face. You are inexplicably drawn to him, hypnotized by his calm, nonchalant demeanor. Perhaps it was his confident swagger that made you fall into his grasp, but regardless, you were completely hooked.

He cocked his head toward the side door, pushing it open with his foot, never losing eye contact with you. You gingerly oblige, walking out the door into the alley. Outside is cold and wet, it had been raining earlier, and the remnants of fog lingered, illuminated by the orange glow of the string lights. He leans against the brick wall, his foot propped up against the door, and offers you a cigarette from his silver case. His heavy black Timberland boots give a sublime finality to the blocking of the door- no one would be interrupting them. 

You take the cigarette from his fingers, tattooed with the word ‘True’ on them. Flicking the lighter, he ignites your cigarette, followed by his. You sit in silence, as if communicating without words or sentences. In him you feel safe, and happy.

“He doesn’t say much does he?” A voice echoes down the foggy alleyway, filling you with an ominous feeling of doubt. “But he sure is pretty to look at. He’s a good kid, shows a hell of a good time.” In the distance, the outline of another man begins to walk toward you. Something seems off in it’s appearance, though you feel strangely safe and out of harms way. As it looms closer you realize what about it is off: it isn’t human. The amorphous translucent shadow strikes a paralyzing fear through your body. “Tell ya what, you like him? You can have him… for a price.” The mute boy grabs your wrist and shields you like a guardian angel. The thing cackles loudly, echoing from all around you.

Just as this occurs, the bartender walks out of the door, and into the scene. Like a gust of wind, the thing flies at him, flowing into his mouth. You watch in horror as the bartender struggles against the sheer force of the thing, while it flows into him like thick oil. As it is all swallowed up into him, the bartender’s expression shifts into a malevolent smirk. You watch as his body begins to bubble and shift. You feel two hands pull you in, and covers your eyes to the terrifying sight. Though, nothing could shield you from the disgusting rubber noises and deep bellowing laughter. You feel two hands pry the boy’s from your face, revealing a completely different man, no longer the poor bartender. 

He smirks with a hardcore dominance that contradicts the other boy’s innocent charm, yet fills you with the same submissive lust. Grasping your cheeks, he pulls you into a rough, aggressive kiss. “The name is Nyraer. I’m the boss of you. That cute piece of ass over there is Mazsyn.” With a frail, shaking voice, you are able to mutter out three distinct words.

“What are you?” Nyraer laughs, and tosses his arm around your shoulders. He points at Mazsyn, and himself before lustfully biting your ear.

“We’re incubi, kid, and we’re gonna have a shit ton of fun with you.” Mazsyn looks at you with sad, yet complacent eyes. “We got one more in this party, and he’s gonna have loads of fun with you, ain’t ya, Azerear?” In your peripherals, another shadow looms over you, as if ready to pounce. Nyraer pulls you into a headlock, and shouts to the creature, “C’mon Azerear, we got places to be!” 

It seemed like an eternity, but it was all over in seconds. Faster than anything living, the creature dashes at you, forcing itself effortlessly into your mouth. Sliding down your throat, it feels like thick slime oozing downward into your stomach and core. It fills you, mind, body, and soul, until you could barely contain it’s presence. The next moment, it is inside you. Wearing you like a glove. You fee yourself smile and grope Nyraer’s plush bubble butt, before your skin begin to bubble and shift. Your bones crack and realign, muscles bulge and bulk. You can feel your face twisting and pulling into a foreign visage. Your hair falls out in clumps, and tattoos sprawl out across your body from your fingers to your toes. 

A newfound sense of swagger fills you, as you begin to ooze confidence and sex appeal. It doesn’t take long until you happily relinquish control to Azerear, a demon of lust. You open your piercing red eyes and glance at Nyraer. With a flick of the wrist you clock him square in the jaw.

“Asshole.” You stride over to Mazsyn, and hold his hand. “He’s still here Maz. Don’t worry. You can have your little human when we’re all done.” Mazsyn smiles genuinely, and you give him a sincere kiss on the lips. “Why you care about mortals I’ll never know. But I’ll get out in a few centuries. Have fun until then.”