Sugar and Spice

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Spice makes her first appearance…

Darkness deeper than death filled the smoky room.

The men who packed themselves into the Rock Candy Club gathered there in excited expectation of a nightly event. The familiar music that pulsed through the air was like a mysterious siren song. It drew them from wherever they were because it meant that Sugar was about to take center stage.

A hush descended as the curtain parted.

Slowly, a city street was revealed, lit only by a lone street lamp. The time, darkest midnight. Fog slithered along the curb, then wrapped itself intimately around the base of the pole where a golden light fell in a perfect circle. High in the dark rafters, a papier-mâché moon shimmered mysteriously.

The thumping music became more intense, telling the onlooker that danger was near, but the stage was vacant. Hearts thrashed, pulses raced. Where was she? Eyes searched for her. Pent-up breath stalled in filled lungs—waiting. Suddenly there came an explosion of music, and Sugar burst into the light, her costume glittering like countless stars in the night.

Her face was beautiful, ageless, and full of secrets.

The anguish of her soul shaded the glow of her stormy blue eyes, like clouds passing across the moon.

Her blatant s****l dance began, her body moving sinuously to the music until the moment came when a shimmering light fell from the moon, surrounding her, forcing her to her knees. She fought, she struggled, but was finally compelled to succumb to its rays. While in the heat of struggle, she cleverly passed behind a row of false hedges, did a quick costume change, and emerged as Spice, a delectable she-devil who began her mysterious dance of death. The moment the men saw her, they applauded, but at the same time gasped at her wild beauty. Her red wig and red costume glittered like tiny flames of fire as she played erotic games in and out of the perfect circle of light that fell over her like rippling honey.

The music stopped, and her dance ended abruptly.

Footsteps!

The club fell in total silence while the sound of the mysterious footsteps grew closer and closer, and closer.

At the very height of fearful expectation, the music began again, but the tempo had changed. The soft staccato beat rose like a rumble of thunder as if it were saying, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” With a quick movement, Spice slipped into a mysterious shadow and waited. The thumping music rose even higher, charging the air with electricity until the unsuspecting man finally appeared. When the music ultimately hit its orgasmic peak, Spice quickly emerged and brutally attacked him.

No matter how many times the men watched this evil display of lust and violence, their c***s would swell and turn to steel when Spice overpowered the actor and sucked his blood. When the fake kill was complete, she rose slowly and moved over her victim in a sizzling, primal dance of triumph, the music hotter, louder, and sexier than before.

The crowd went wild as she slowly peeled off her costume.

It untied easily, tiny wisps of it drifting toward the stage while her firm, young breasts bounced to the beat of the music. The men looked on in excited, inebriated delight as she wrapped herself around a metal pole and shimmied beneath the glowing moon, oozing s*x appeal. As she went into her finale all that remained of her costume was a tiny thong and a web of spidery material that wrapped snugly around her perfectly shaped legs. The men eagerly pushed forward, rough, brutish hands filling up her thong with bills, hoping it would buy them just one small caress of the perfect body that danced before them.

But Sugar was indifferent to the drooling crowd around her—to their shouts, to their struggle for her attention. Instead, she looked deep into the belly of the club, her eyes searching along the bar, the corners, the hidden nooks…for only one.

Her eyes halted the minute she saw him. It was a face she didn’t know, but a face that dominated all the others. A face with lips she would let kiss her, hands she would let fondle her, a c**k she would let f**k her—just before she killed him.