SYNDRA
Against his better judgment, Eric has been talked into going out tonight. He was prepared to just hang at his apartment, watch some TV and hit the sack early. However, Tom and Tony, his buddies from college, have persuaded him otherwise. ‘Man,’ they said, ‘You have got to check out this new club with us.’ Tom said he heard about it through the grapevine and Tony added that it was supposed to have a real ‘hot vibe’ with a kick-ass sound system and multi-level dance floors and even make-out lounges. ‘Come on, guys,’ Eric protested, ‘Make-out sounds so high school.’
Even though he said ‘No’ fifty different ways, they persisted. “Eric, my boy,” Tom feigns scholarly wisdom, throwing his arm around the shoulder of his long-time drinking companion, “Amy’s out of town and we promised her we’d protect you from any harm. Stay’n in on Friday night is harmful to the brain, doncha know.” Eric smiles and thinks about Amy, his lovely girlfriend of nearly a year. She’s away on a business trip in New York City for five days, and more disappointingly, five nights.
“We are just gunna have a couple of beers,” Tony continues, “Besides Tommy and I have two really hot dates later tonight.” Eric chuckles knowing each of his buds are in serious, long-term relationships and ‘the girls” are at happy hour with work-friends till 9:00 or 10:00.
“O.K., O.K.” Eric finally says shaking his head, “What’s the name of this place?”
“The Viper,” Tony hisses like a snake and makes a gesture like fangs in the air. The other two guys laugh at their friend’s antics and hiss back at him. “Get dressed, let’s go, …let’s go, …let’s go” they start chanting.
“Alright, I’ll scope this place out FOR AMY. She’s the one that loves to dance.”
“That’s the spirit,” Tom says, pumping his arm above his head, “You drive separate, so you can bug out when our angels get there and take us away to some party up in the hills.” “Yah,” Tony chimes-in, “We don’t want Eric to party too hardy, till Amy-kins gets back, right?”
“Right!” he responses earnestly, picking up his cell phone and swiping the screen a few times. He walks through the living room and down the hall saying, “Hi, honey…” before shutting the door to his bedroom…
…the two cars pull into the expansive parking lot and settle in adjoining spaces surprisingly near the entry to the glitzy new nightclub. There are at most twenty other vehicles in the lot, not many considering this place is the talk of L.A., but then again it’s only a little after 8:00. The action has barely begun; by midnight, it will be a mob-scene. The three guys get out and approach, making small talk about the location and the exterior of the building. It’s entirely black glass and subtlety lit, very sharp-looking. There is absolutely no queue, and Tony mumbles, “Not possible,” as they proceed along the curving walkway.
“Whoa-ho-ho,” Tom points across to a separately fenced area of parking, “Look at that!” The trio of guys squints through the bright lights to the VIP portion of the lot and more particularly to the single vehicle setting there. It’s in the clearly marked “Special Guest” space under a glowing canopy. They wander closer, gawking at a glistening blood-red Corvette. The shimmering convertible is quite obviously a custom model, with a tall, nasty knife-blade spoiler rising from the rear deck and ultra-sleek air scoops molded into the sides. The mag wheels are finished in gold and silver with wicked barbs projecting from each spoke.
“Cherriest Vet I’ve ever seen,” states Tony, stepping to the fence-line. “So hopped-up it looks more like a Ferrari,” adds Tom stopping beside him. Eric saunters along the security perimeter, looking at the pristine sports car with a strange, but immediate sense of foreboding. When he reaches the back, he glances down at the partially illuminated license plate. It takes him only a second or two to translate the personalized message, ‘2-UR-NEZ’. “Hey, guys,” he calls out, “Come here”. The other two join him and they all begin to smirk. “This is some super-macho dude, huh?” Tony says in a low, envious tone. “Damn straight” Tom snorts. Continuing to look at the menacing machine, Eric‘s mind flashes on an alternate vision, “Maybe it’s not a guy’s wheels.” he says dreamily. The thought leaves each of them in silence...
…walking into the grand lobby of The Viper for the first time is an experience for them all. The three have been to a lot of SoCal clubs, but the initial impression of this one is a resounding “Wow!” It radiates opulence everywhere, from the marble floors to the domed ceilings to the stone and mirrored walls. Tom whistles and says sarcastically. “Nice digs.” Tony snaps his fingers and quips, “Bring me my harem,” for indeed proceeding through the portal and into the main lounge is reminiscent of a palace entrance. “Guys,” Eric says, looking around in wonder, “This is way too cool for us.” The other two privately get the same feeling, yet neither voice it - rather they simultaneously slap Eric on the back. “Too cool for us, but not for Amy, dude,” Tony cracks with Tom chiming in, “Remember what the Vette said, ‘to your knees’, bro, to your knees”. With that they all chuckle and gaze around the room.
There are multiple levels within, several balconies, a hanging bar near the sloped skylight roof and an all glass bubble–like structure suspended in the immense space. They gawk and walk just like tourists until Tony says, “Let’s take this one,” referring to one of the tables situated in a central location. Agreeing they sit, continuing to look around. “Chicks-Ten and One o’clock,” announces Tom nodding to several groups at various other tables. “A lovey-dovey couple,” Tony smirks and discreetly they all take a peek. “Hey.” Eric says, “See that older gentleman. Does he sorta look out of place?” The question hangs as a waitress arrives, welcomes them and takes their order…
…”How about those Lakers?” Tom states, as the second round of beers starts going down, along with quantities of chips and salsa. They’ve been talking about jobs, cars and sports for almost an hour. The Viper has begun to fill up. Maybe half the tables are occupied, and the crowd is decidedly young, hip and ready to party. “Uhh, how about those legs!” Tony exclaims, motioning with a tip of the head. A nice-looking babe and her date cruise by, she of the short skirt club-wear variety. “Makes ya horny for Amy, doesn’t it?” Eric glances, then looks back, “I’m true to my girl,” he responses and smiles. “Absolutely”, Tom agrees, “You are, my man.” They all take a sip as the music begins. Tony checks his watch, “Nine and right on time.” The sound amazingly seems to come from everywhere and fill the room with a soft, smooth sax.
Tony is the first to see HER. He fades out of the conversation and just begins to stare. Tom and Eric notice their friend in a state of silence, very rare for him. Each in turn glances back to see what’s caught his attention and both of them instantly cease talking. Who, not what, they behold shocks all their collective senses, deeply, profoundly. SHE is emerging from the darkness of a backroom and into the rose-hued lighting of the main lounge. A more bodacious beauty none has ever seen, nor ever imagined even in their most cherished wet-dream. SHE is tall; very, VERY tall. Adding to HER physical height, SHE is perched atop skyscraper heels, making HER, in fact, towering. SHE possesses the most astonishing hour-glass figure; one so dramatically shaped its simply impossible to believe. HER gait is fluid and ultra-provocative with one long gam alternately slashing in front of the other; hips swiveling and dipping up and down like pounding waves against the beach. HER posture is elegant and aloof like that of a runway model, yet HER killer body is brazenly bodacious like that of a pornstar. To their total surprise this stunning knockout struts up to the lone older male Eric had pointed out sometime earlier.
“Oh-My-Gawd.” Tony finally manages, as SHE turns into profile. The down-lights illuminate HER outfit which is, at once, skinfit and outrageous. The flame red catsuit flows over HER colossal curves like molten metal, shimmering and reflective. The daring plunge of the neckline reveals vast amounts of bronzed flesh and a cavernous cleavage between two enormously-enhanced tits, and the sleekness of rock hard abs which are punctuated by a navel pierced with a huge diamond stud. HER rear is sculpted twin hemispheres, tight, smooth and altogether majestic. Although the fronts of HER exquisite legs are encased in the formfitting leather, their backs are mostly exposed with a delicate lattice of thin, saucy straps crisscrossing the surfaces. “Freaking – A,” Tom whispers, indiscreetly turning completely around in his chair to gaze.
SHE steps in front of the seated man and they appear to be conversing. HER hands come to rest on HER hips and one leg slides slightly in front of the other in a quite defiant poise. Then one arm rises and its hand runs through HER luxurious platinum tresses which SHE shakes ever so slightly. The resultant blonde ripple flows over HER shoulders; continuing down over the contours of leather and cascades to the virtually horizontal top shelf of HER ass. A short bolero-styled cape is only partially visible under HER billowy white-hot mane, its surface seemingly held in a rigid frame-like shape with stays. Eric suddenly shudders, jostling the table as he turns full around as well. Under his breath he mumbles to himself, “Oh, Goddess” not knowing at all from where that thought came.
The three watch in utter silence for seconds, or possibly even minutes; each frozen and each yearning with silent yet primal lust. Casually SHE raises HER left leg and plants HER ankle boot directly on the man’s thigh. It’s a wicked sight with a thick platform and slender, tapered stiletto heel, both in glittering chrome. Eric loves when Amy wears high heels, but none she owns comes anywhere close to the ten or twelve inch pencil-thin shaft he now sees. Rows of pointed studs run along all the boot’s seams with several parallel rows around its ankle. This boot is quite menacing in appearance, and presumably in intent, as it moves slowly up the old man’s pants and then the toe dips down out of sight into his crotch. In harmony Tom, Tony and Eric whine pathetically…
…they have tried to settle back, compose themselves, make other remarks but that is simply not to be, as the desire to ogle this sexy creature is unavoidable, undeniable in the trio. They have watched HER, as SHE has, in order: aggressively jerked the guy’s jacket down binding his arms at his side, loosen and then taken off his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt; all while he has been sitting motionless, seemingly transfixed. Now SHE has him standing, an unmistakable bulge evident in his slacks, and HER hands are boldly threading the tie through his front belt loops, fingers precariously close to his concealed, yet quite sizable, lump. SHE grabs the two protruding ends of the tie and snaps them upwards, progressively raising the guy until he is on his tiptoes before releasing the tension. Pivoting smartly, SHE tugs the compliant male behind HER back into the darkness from which SHE came a scant few minutes ago. The guys sit in hushed awe, the aura of arousal unquestionably permeating their minds. Finally, Tony says in a nearly inaudible tone, “That is the sexiest non-naked thing I’ve ever seen.” “You got that right, my friend,” Tom says in a shaky voice. The two look over at Eric, who seems frozen, still looking in the direction of the erotic exhibitionist. “Eric, Eric, what do you say?” He hears his friends voices as if from far away, but they are overwhelmed in his mind by the sound of his own repeating as if it were a mantra, “Goddess, Goddess”…
…Seemingly on cue, two cute, petite babes appear in their midst, one grabbing onto Tom and the other Tony; plopping into their respective laps. The kisses are smothering and mixed with whispers, breaking Eric from his trance. He knows Beth and Toni are drunk and smiles knowingly. “Uhh, glad to see me already,” Beth says, leaning back to look at her man’s groin. “Um, mine, too,” Toni declares pushing Tom’s head back to lay a slurppy smootch on his upturned mouth. Eric suddenly realizes he’s in a similar heightened state and swiftly tucks himself back under the table. “Hi, Big-E,” Beth teasingly says, looking back over her shoulder and Toni breaks from Tom long enough to add, “Where’s Amy?” “Hi-ee,” Eric weirdly squeaks to his surprise. Quickly clearing his throat he tries again, “Hi, ladies. Amy’s in NYC.” The two girls finally cease their embraces and look at each other, exclaiming in near unison, “New York?” The group settles down a little as Eric explains Amy’s absence while his two buddies continue the kidding. Changing the subject, they all agree that the Viper is spectacular, but the girls remind Tom and Tony that they have a friend’s party to attend. “Hey, guys,” Eric concludes, “Go! Get outta here. I’ll get the tab, cuz I thank you for dragging me along tonight. I’ll report back to Amy and we’ll all make it a night here when she gets back.” His two compadres protest, but soon agree and the couples tell Eric goodbye. As Tom walks by, he leans down and says to Eric, “Keep your tie on, old man.” Then Tony nudges him, following up with, “Watch out for the lady in red.” All four of his departing friends wave and quickly disappear into the foyer…
…Eric tips his beer back for the last swallow and gestures to the waitress as she scurries by. “I’ll be back” she smiles at him and he returns it. He glances around at the club; a fleeting image of Amy flashes through his brain but is immediately replaced by the memory of just a few minutes ago, the vision of the ‘fire demoness’ and how hard he’d gotten watching HER. “Whew,” he shakes his head, wondering if he can keep from whacking-off tonight. Lost in that thought, motion coming from the side catches his attention. Turning towards it, he instantly gasps. A chill surges through his entire being, a mixture of fright and thrill. It is HER again, approaching slowly, but directly, towards him. HER tits are simply mammoth and gravity-defying in their prominence. In the elastic taut leather Eric sees etched huge, hard mouthwatering nipples. The only difference he detects from HER previous appearance is a wide band, in matching red leather, adorned with diamonds and spanning HER forehead fading back into fluffy blonde locks. SHE stops several feet away and brazenly inspects the seated Eric. He quivers under HER roving stare, the feeling of being stripped of all his clothes, of all his defenses flows through him. Then SHE advances and the sharp click of HER soaring heels enters his ears, even over the pounding techno beat.
“HELL-OHH,” SHE says in a loud sensuous purr. The lighting over his table now blazes off HER liquid metal physique igniting his libido once more. “I AM SYNDRA,” SHE pronounces, both HER hands slithering down the sides of the catsuit. Eric’s gaze follows them instinctively. Fingers splay out over HER arching hip bones, displaying extremely long, brilliantly polished nails that resemble raptor talons, curving, razor-edged and menacing. The digits fan out, all pointing downward towards the most shamelessly precise cameltoe he’s ever imagined. As if covered by a mere film of paint, the folds of HER lips and precipice of HER opening and most especially HER large, protruding and succulent clit hovers a few feet from his face. “WHERE ARE YOUR FRIENDS?” He hears the query from above, but the sight before him and HER stimulating fragrance have rendered Eric speechless. “GONE,” SHE answers HERSELF, one hand moving onto his cheek to softly caress it, then to clutch his chin and elevate his head until their eyes meet. He sees, up close, the magnificence of HER drop-dead gorgeous face, flawless skin, sun-drenched and lotioned; full, somewhat pouty lips and fiercely penetrating eyes that sparkle with an assured self-confidence. Indeed, SHE is not only his definition of ‘walking wet dream’ but the erotic, sexually-charged superiority SHE exudes is undeniable. “MARRIED?” He shakes his head from side to side. “ENGAGED?” Again his head movement. “OHHH” SHE exclaims, with a decided disappointment in HER voice. HER grip lessens and Eric gathers his composure enough to verbally respond. He barely speaks , “I, I have a, a girl…” “UMMM AND WHERE IS SHE?” his interrogator interrupts. “Na,new ya, york,” he nervously replies. A sly smile radiates across the width of HER glamorous, deeply bronzed face. HER beauty is made even more alluring by the amazing amount of shimmering, savagely teased hair that frames it. Eric is in utter and complete awe of this platinum vision, his inner-self screaming inexplicably, “Goddess, oh Goddess.”
“THEN,” the exquisite amazon continues, brazenly gripping Eric’s tie to lift him from the chair with little effort, “I HAVE YOU ALL TO MYSELF.” The finality of HER words is un-mistakable; the close proximity of HER lushness is totally overwhelming. His eyes water with desire. His nose is assaulted by the intensity of HER sweet, musky aroma. He is, at once, numb and yet vibrantly tingling. Never has he felt this out-of-control. Abruptly SHE locks his arm and begins striding away guiding him along beside HER. Troy is in a dream state. With a hand gesture SHE summarily dismisses the approaching waitress; then the hand returns to his wrist. HER touch on his skin brings a surge from his groin and a moan to his lips. “YESSZZ,” SHE coos, dipping to nuzzle into his ear and lick the rim of his lobe. Troy shivers as they continue across the club, enter into a short corridor at the end of which they encounter a large, glistening gold archway with a burly guy standing at attention beside it. He bows deeply towards SYNDRA and swiftly opens the steel door for HER. With suddenness, Eric is swung inside the room with the towering female entering right behind. He stumbles slightly but catches himself. In the next moment a loud metallic clang fills the silence. Troy knows, without looking, that SHE has shut the door; the ominous sound reverberating in his mind. He senses the diminutive size of the space, yet glancing from side to side becomes disoriented seeing himself in mirrored walls. His attention is immediately focused on the image of SYNDRA standing a few feet behind him, looming a head taller. His mind is a swirling blur of a vivid carnal vision: SYNDRA mounted atop his chained, naked body, writhing and hissing.
Troy shudders as he hears HER velvety voice, “UHH, YOU ARE THE CUTEST OF THE THREE, AND I DO LIKE MY BOYS CUTE.” The staccato clicking of high heels is chilling as SHE walks ever so slowly around Eric, nails trailing along his back, then arm, then chest before SHE dramatically flips the flowing mane of blonde tresses into his face. He stands, frozen in his tracks, aroused beyond all reason. Soft, sensual music begins and SHE picks up the languid jazz beat, HER ass swaying inches in front of him. “I, i, ahh..” his meaningless stammer fades when smooth leather slithers along his groin until it encounters the bulge in his slacks. Then one of HER perfect globes slides over his raging member coaxing it to settle into the deep ass cleavage just as SHE changes HER movement to an up and down undulation. Eric has been turned-on hundreds, probably thousands of times before, alone and with many girls, the most recent and most special, Amy; but never so desperately as at this moment. SYNDRA is temptation without equal. Troy knows he’s fallen. He longs to grasp this smoldering vixen, and “Oh, Gawd,” he blurts.
“GODDESS IS MORE APPROPRIATE, MY PET,” SYNDRA tosses back over a shoulder, straightening up, disengaging from Eric and gracefully spinning around. Firm, fragrant tits engulf him, cradling his face between their erotic curving contours. There is nothing else to be said, nothing else to be done except, as if by unspoken command, kiss and lick. Eric loses himself in the splendor of SYNDRA’s bosom, suckling on the formfitting leather stretched over HER succulent nipples. He hardly senses the expert manipulation of his belt and zipper until hands thrust his pants and his boxers downward over his hips.
“DO YOU WORSHIP SYNDRA?” the whispered words penetrate to the core of his being. He knows he does, he realizes he has since the moment he first beheld HER a few hours ago. “Ya, yes,” he manages almost inaudibly. HER hands slide around his neck then down onto his collarbones pushing Eric back from HER bust, its redness slick and glistening from his saliva. Looking down from above, HER scintillating grin is one of supreme conquest. Eric welcomes HER evil seductive power as it washes over him, through his deepest thoughts, searing his very soul. He has surrendered to HER, of that there is no doubt, and no escape. Amy is forgotten, SYNDRA is now all he desires, all he has seemingly ever desired. “Ohhh,” he moans long and pitifully as an unseen, mysterious object slithers onto his skin and wraps over the base of his throbbing, petrified member, then around his painfully swollen sac. Gently at first, but increasing in pressure, the hot, searing object contracts, squeezing his genitals in a firm, vise-like grip.
Eric looks in wonderment as from the top edge of HER headband emerge two crimson points which grow upwards and outward into the unmistakable shape of horns. “YES, DARLING.,” he hears without seeing any movement of HER delicious lips, “I POSSESS YOU.” His anus is touched, then instantly violated. The sensation of a steaming, flexing appendage working deep into him sends Eric into orbit. He’s never felt such pleasure. Reeling in near ecstasy, he watches SYNDRA rise up to HER full, formidable height. The most scintillating creature he’s ever known virtually impales HERSELF on his stiff upright shaft, descending inches at a time until SHE has reached his hilt. “MY TAIL,” SHE murmurs as the cinch encompassing his throbbing package pulls progressively tighter until he whimpers in pain. “MY TEMPLE” SHE hisses, not into his ear, but into his bedazzled brain. The thought, indeed the implanted vision, of HER divine pussy is reinforced as the confines grip the base of his bound cock, then ripple up its entire twelve inches forming a burning hot sleeve which conforms to each and every surface, every vein, and capping its buried head in liquid fire.
“GIVE ME YOR LOVE SEED,” SYNDRA softly states, arching HER back, exposing what Eric had thought to be a leather jacket but in truth becoming a pair of beautiful, airy wings which unfurl and cover him like a protective canopy. “CUM IN MY TEMPLE,” SHE triumphantly commands, closing HER eyes, piercing his flesh with HER talons and releasing the portion of HER tail holding back his load. Eric wails and shudders as SHE extracts a stream of semen from him that erupts on and on, filling SYNDRA with the precious nourishment untold numbers of males have relinquished in the past and ERIC now gives up as tribute to the EVIL GODDESS. SHE pumps hard and viciously for what seems forever, draining him of every last drop of jism. Eric slumps in HER ams, the only part of his body still functioning is his tortured organ. “GOOD BOY,” SYNDRA finally whispers, letting him slip out of the vacuum of HER sizzling sex and collapse to a wobbly kneeling position. HER hand strokes through his sweaty scalp; starting to calm his racing heart; admiring the athletic physique of HER newest minion. “TASTE GODDESS,” SHE communicates, easily interrupting his carnal thoughts with a dominance no mere mortal male can deny. Stepping closer, SHE tips his head back and settles down on his parched lips. Threading along his neck and down his spine HER tail positions Eric for his first communion. He will drink of HER wickedness now and for as long as SHE allows. Another human slave is about to be born at the feet of SYNDRA.