Description
by John Savage
Las Vegas may be the ultimate Party Town, but the transient crowds of tourists make it the perfect feeding ground for vampires, and where better than one of goth-themed bars?
When Sandra and Colleen, the two kinky queens of rope bondage arrived looking for the wild side of the wildest town in the Wild West, trouble was inevitable. Somehow, they could hardly avoid running into the sexiest female, lesbian vampire with a taste for bondage and domination as kinky as their desires. The problem, of course, was that the two “rope girls” might well find themselves as nothing more than drinking fountains for a herd of thirsty vampires…
Published: Nov 2015 No. words: 35,800
Okay, I’ll admit it: we’re sexual addicts. No, make that perverted sex addicts. Maybe there’s something wrong with Colleen’s and my bodies. Maybe we have a serious hormone imbalance. But whatever, we can’t seem to get enough sex. And it has to be kinky sex also.
We talked about this a few times, back when we got started on our kinky lifestyle, and came to the conclusion that we might be different but it was okay. I mean, so long as we don’t get hurt, what’s the problem? We’re both young. Fact is, neither of us can vote legally in our home state. But we are legal for sexual acts, no problem there. “Of the age of consent,” I think is the expression.
Anyway, I stopped worrying about why I was always horny and couldn’t get enough. Might as well relax and enjoy it, we decided. While it lasts… Now that’s a frightening thought. Someday we might wake up and not want sex any longer. Wow, bummer! I hope that day will be a long ways off!
And we are always looking for new kinks. Nothing really way out there, but new and exciting things to try. So the next day we did some shopping and that evening went out looking like refugees from the Addams Family. There are plenty of shopping malls in Las Vegas if you look for them.
I was dressed in a long black gown. It was trimmed in black lace and cut with a deep Vee in front to show a goodly amount of my breasts. The sleeves were long, coming down almost over my hands. The lower part of the gown was rather tight, and I quickly found that I had to take careful, small steps. It was almost like having my knees tied together underneath. I liked it!
Colleen picked an ultra short mini-skirt. No, make that a micro-skirt. So long as she was standing, the critical parts were covered, but when she sat down… Well, let’s say that she put on a show.
The skirt was made of leather, and she added a vest made of the same supple black leather. The vest was connected across the front by three small straps but left a goodly amount of skin visible from the neck all the way down past the belly button to the top edge of the skirt. Both parts were delightfully tight. Made her look so damned sexy that I wanted to grab her and… Well, never mind. You can guess what I wanted to do to her.
We put on some makeup to enhance the look, but far short of making ourselves as pale as corpses. We did use black eye shadow and a very dark red lipstick.
We had dinner in the hotel’s main dining room and set out to find this Dante’s place. We got lots and lots of stares in the dining room. The maître d’ looked so shocked that I was afraid they weren’t going to seat us at first. But he did. It was in a corner booth where the lighting was subdued. I’m sure he had visions of what Colleen would be showing if she were seated at one of the open tables.
The two of us dined well and left a big tip. I was feeling excited at the prospect of checking out the kinky scene in what has been described as the biggest party town in the world.
Oh, I forgot to mention. Susie wasn’t with us. She got a call that afternoon and said that she had to go back home because of a family emergency. She assured us that she wasn’t leaving because of the trick we had pulled on her the night before. If fact, she came to admit that it was a pretty good trick that really had her going for a while. Anyway, Colleen gave her money and we put her on a taxi for the airport.
Thus it was that only two of us ventured forth to brave the notorious Dante’s. Shana had assured us that the place was well known and attracted many tourists. Most of whom never returned, but wanted to gawk at the weirdoes at least once.
Dante’s was definitely not on the Strip. We found it nestled in between an office building and a mortuary, if you will believe that! It was in an older part of town where the buildings went back to the beginning of Las Vegas’ boom in the 1940’s. There was no advertising outside, a sharp contrast to the usual glitter and brash lighting of that town. Just a simple sign that said “Dante’s”. Nearby was a fair sized parking lot adjoining that of the mortuary. It was half filled with cars, many with out of state plates.
We parked and made for the side entrance. Once past the outer door, there was an archway apparently made of hand-carved stone blocks. Above that was some writing. In the dim light I could just make out: “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.” I pointed that out to Colleen. She whispered to me, “That translates as ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’ It’s a quote from Dante’s Inferno.”
I think she reads more than I do.
Through that arch there was a table and another door, this one closed. The area was more shadows than otherwise and I could hardly see the woman seated behind the table.
“You wish to enter?” she asked. I saw white teeth gleam in the dim light as she smiled and could swear that there were fangs among them.
“Yes,” Colleen said. “We were told this is a place to find the unusual.”
She smiled again and confirmed that she had fangs. Two of them in the top row of teeth. And the reddest lips I’ve ever seen.
She named an entrance fee and Colleen paid. Rather steep, I thought, but maybe that is to keep the riff-raff and gawking, cheap tourists out. Only those seeking the “unusual” as Colleen had put it, would pay and pass through that door.
The door opened by itself and we passed through. There was a wide stairway leading downward. At the bottom was a rather large room, looking more or less like a restaurant but the most dimly lit one I’ve ever seen. Most bars and some restaurants have dim lighting because it is more “intimate”. This place was not intimate; it was spooky. I mean creepy crawly spooky. There were actually cobwebs in the corners and behind the large bar. I wondered if they were fake cobwebs from a Halloween store or it the spiders that made them were still living here. This place looked like the set of a Hollywood horror movie.
The crowd was the strangest mix of goth and tourist I’ve ever seen. About half of them were wearing black Victorian clothes, a few of the men even going so far as to wear capes with red satin lining. Most of the women, and there were plenty of them, wore black dresses like ours, but most were a little more extreme with the makeup and what I thought were wigs. I mean, can you image a whole room full of raven-haired women without a blonde or redhead or auburn head in sight? Most of those had to be dye jobs or wigs. Colleen’s red hair sort of stood out, while my Italian ancestry black did not.
There was a scattering of punk and even some of what I thought was called “deathrock” or “darkwave” fashion. More on the morbid side. Rings piercing places where rings aren’t normally found. Like that. But most of them were going for the movie vampire look. Bela Lugosi would have been right at home.
We were shown to a table by a young woman wearing a black dress slit up side far enough to show that she was not wearing any panties. Like up to the waist. I thought it was rather sexy.
We ordered wine and settled down to see what was happening. There was a dance floor, and immediately after we arrived, a DJ appeared and began to play what sounded to me like punk rock. A few danced, but mostly the younger set, and the dancing consisted mostly of assuming sexy poses and wiggling their parts at each other.
A tall, not bad looking vampire came to our table. “Hello. My name is Alucard.”
“As in Dracula spelled backwards?” Colleen said.
“You got me there. Actually, my name is Paul. You two haven’t been here before, have you?”
“No. We just got into town a couple days ago.”
He looked us both over carefully – well, as carefully as he could in the dim light – and smiled. “You’re not vintage goth. The clothes are too new and off the rack. But you’re not hard-core tourists, either. We get a lot of sightseers. They hear about the Dante’s and come to gawk. Usually they leave before too long.” He paused again. “So, why are you here?”
“Looking for kinky action,” Colleen said matter-of-factly.
“Oh…” He smiled again. Rather nice smile. I figured him to be about five years older than us. Maybe more, it was hard to tell in the dim light, most of which came from candles on the tables and subdued indirect accent lights in shades of red.
“Well, I can get a little kinky,” he said with a sly grin.
Colleen stood up and whispered something in his ear. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but he replied, also whispered as if it was secret. She replied, and that must have shocked him. “I… Well…” he stammered.
Colleen sat back down and took a sip of her wine. I was admiring how she was managing to control the conversation. “I guess not,” he finally said, and walked away.
“What the hell did you say to him?” I asked.
“Oh, just a little hint of what we like.”
“And what did he say to you?”
“He’s not our type. His idea of kink is having us tie him down to a bed with soft ties and licking him all over.”
“Definitely not our type,” I agreed. “I dislike submissive guys.”
In the next half hour, two more single guys tried to hit on us. Conversation was getting harder as the DJ increased the volume. She dissuaded them with pithy comments about their suggestions. I was beginning to think that everyone there was straight and we would have no luck finding other women who liked the things we did. Which made me begin to think about what one of the would-be vampires might do with us. I’m sort of bi, you know.
Then she came up. Even in the dim light, I thought she was one of the most attractive women I have ever seen. Her hair was not a wig, and was both longer and blacker than mine. Her eyes were dark and mysterious. There was a wicked little smile on her lips that set my heart to fluttering.
“Hello, girls. I’m Deidre. Mind if I sit down?”
Colleen waved a hand to an empty chair. Deidre took it and moved it closer to us before sitting down. She was not only beautiful, but she was tall, at least as tall as Colleen, maybe more. And she had a most commanding presence. I just couldn’t imagine her as a sub. No way. This was a woman used to being obeyed.
“I noticed you were rejecting the men,” she went on. We both had to lean towards her to hear. “You looking for something else?”
Oh, boy, are we, I wanted to say.
“We’re looking for something different,” Colleen said.
“Different and kinky,” I added. Might as well get right to the point.
“Some of the people who come here are kinky,” Deidre told us. “But some are into much more than that.”
“Like?” asked Colleen.
Deidre didn’t answer right away. “Let’s just say that it is an area you don’t want to go to.”
She seemed serious. I was not sure of exactly what she meant, but somehow knew it was something more than just harder S&M than we usually play. Actually, Colleen and I are on the mild side when it comes to pain giving and receiving.
“Fine,” said Colleen, “then we won’t go there.”
In a bold move, Colleen reached over the table and laid her hand gently on Deidre’s. The woman did not move her hand away, and nothing showed on her dark face to indicate if she was pleased or not. I hoped that she was lesbian to the core, because I was enamored with her beauty and that wonderful sense of control she exuded.
“Come with me,” Deidre said. She rose and headed towards one of the arched exits at the back of the room. Colleen glanced at me. I nodded and we both followed that exotic woman into what kind of adventure I had no idea.
