Chapter 1 (Anna & Kara)
I regret to inform you that your position at NY Coffee and Co. is no longer sustainable for the organization, and we will be letting you go effective immediately.
We hope you understand our decision and we wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.
NY Coffee and Co.
Fucking Kayla, she wouldn’t know a good employee if it bit her in the ass. I can’t deny I missed a couple of days though, and I probably showed up late a little more often than I should have but considering how I’ve been fighting a terrible depressive streak that’s been trying to kill me for the past few months, I should get some sort of break, I think.
Well, whatever, as sad as it is, this stupid barista job was the last thing that gave my life any meaning. Fuck it, maybe this is what I needed, maybe this is my sign to move on. Dying alone in your apartment wasn’t the worst way to go I guess, better than in the woods or something, and Ms. Singh from across the hall would probably smell my body in a couple days and call the cops so it’s not like I wouldn’t get a proper burial. Well, let’s do this thing, I reached over with a newfound resolve and took the pocketknife that redacted bought me out of my nightstand, navigating my hand past the sex toys I kept in there for easy access.
I held the knife in my right hand getting a feel for the wooden grip, and gently drifted my other hand over the blade. There was a small engraving at the bottom of the blade. For my Anna. May you kill your demons. The words sent chills through me. Memories of her flooded my brain again.
I thought redacted was who I needed. Someone strong, resilient, and brave because I wasn’t those things. But her strength wasn’t real, it was only physical, and her toughness was only skin deep. I spent so much time idolizing her, that I never realized I was slowly withering away in her grip. And when I did realize, and I tried to squeeze out of her stranglehold, she used her strength against me.
She was weak, too weak to be vulnerable, too weak to not harass and belittle, too weak to not hurt and wound. She was the weakest person I’d ever known. Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe that was me, I don’t know.
Well, this is it I guess, this is how I’m spending my last night on earth, as the same depressed mess, still stuck in the past, and hating a person who probably isn’t even thinking about her. Fuck it, if it means I get to move on, I’ll take this. I gripped the knife as hard as I could, took a deep breath and waited for my hand to steady; then I pressed it up to my neck, and gritted my teeth in anticipation.
“What’s her name?” A voice rang out.
Startled, I lowered the blade. That must’ve been in the hallway or something right, maybe Ms. Singh had loud guests over again. Yeah, that was probably it. Although it sounded eerily close.
The Voice spoke again, echoing through the apartment, yet somehow source less.
“The one who hurt you. What’s her name?”
Okay, that was definitely close, and definitely real. Let’s think this through, so you’re either talking to a mysterious entity who lives in your apartment and decided to ask you about your ex-girlfriend, or you’ve finally lost it and you’re talking to yourself. Probably the latter.
The source less, feminine voice spoke again, softer this time,
“My gentle thing. I will bring you peace.”
With the words it felt like a wave crashed over me. And with it, a sense of unearthly calm, a sense that everything was going to be okay, there was no anxiety of the future, no dread from the past, just a calming reassurance, and present peace. I felt cocooned and safe, protected, and loved; my eyes started to well with tears.
‘What is this?” I asked, almost crying.
“This is what you could feel, if you rid yourself of her, I can erase her name from the world.”
The feeling started to slip away, like a wave retreating. My dread was returning, hurtful memories were flooding back in, anxieties burrowing their way back into my brain.
“Wait wait, please please just let me feel it a little longer!” I yelled out in a desperate plea.
“You will have to earn my patronage.” the voice replied with a hint of authority.
Somehow, I knew exactly what she meant, and my body grew hot at the words.
“The name, my darling.” The Voice asked again.
Not giving myself a chance to second guess myself, I replied as clearly as I could.
“Redacted, her name’s redacted.”
“What a terrible name.” The voice replied.
“We’ll erase it together.”
24 Hours Earlier
“What do you want?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Peace. I want peace.” the young woman responded.
“I can give you peace. Just give me the name.”
I’d lost count of all the names I’d taken over the years, there had been so many sad saps needing to forget someone, needing to get rid of a name that plagued their feeble minds. Looking for some sort of peace in their lives. It was pathetic. They all acted the same, like their pain was the most unique, miserable pain in the world, and no one had ever felt what they were feeling. They moped, they whined, and they cried, and when they realized all that didn’t change a damn thing, they tried to give life their final goodbye.
It was so selfish and narcissistic it drove me mad. Everyone thought they were so fucking special, when in reality, pain, real pain, the kind that guts you like a fish and chops off your head, was the most common thing in the world. Whether you were king and sat atop a tower of gold, or you begged for dinner scraps in the gutter, you all had a moment where a memory or a person dug its claws into your brain and fucked it.
That moment, that sweet, soul crushing moment where you realized this terrible memory won’t let you go, was where I came in.
Do what you love, and you won’t work a day in your life they say, well they’re wrong. I love eating memories, and I love to fuck, I bathe in the feeling, I fucking drink it with my morning tea, but this job, this unending, laborious job, was killing me slowly. Maybe everything had a honeymoon phase. The fucking and the erasing was always a treat, but the legwork was becoming too much to handle, finding beautifully fuckable woman who needed to rid themselves of a memory that drove them mad was getting harder and harder. I blame peace times and therapy. Whatever the reason was, my job was becoming tiring, and the names I was taking weren’t nearly as powerful and filling as they used to be. I’d be lucky if I got to stay in my physical form for a couple hours after absorbing a name nowadays. Two hundred years was a good run, maybe it was time for a new line of work.
Or maybe I just needed a good fuck. I don’t know.
I looked down at the small, terrified woman in front of me and examined her, she had shoulder length black hair and wore an ill-fitting green blouse, she had on ripped bootcut jeans and a pair of brown clogs. God, I hated clogs, fashion this century was the real killer. Despite her fashion faux pas, she did have a cute face, peppered with brown freckles that complemented her snow-white pale skin.
She’ll do, I guess.
The little woman uttered some common woman’s name, I absorbed it into my letting its essence flow into my veins, and then I waited for my transformation to happen. At least this was always an incredible feeling.
My intangible spirit form started to fill the alleyway with dark clouds of red and purple, surrounding the small woman in a colorful smoke show of terror, before quickly coalescing in front of her. This time I chose a sultry low cut, black dress that hugged my ass perfectly, and split into two parts at my thighs, revealing their soft, perfect form, also leaving a slip in the back for my tail to hang through. I always love the creativity I got to bring to this part.
I stretched my arms out, getting used to my tangible form again, cracking my neck and my knuckles taking in the feeling of my form. And then I looked down at the cute little thing in front of me, she was looking up at me with a mix of fear and excitement.
“Are you ready for your payment?” I asked with a smile, speaking slowly and softly, leaning down to her form.
The smaller woman’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked as if her whole body was going to turn red with embarrassment. There was a brief pause, and then she replied in a soft, wanting tone.
My grin widened as I snapped my fingers and transported us to my playroom.
The dimly lit room was adorned with an opulent decadence that only I could appreciate. Deep crimson curtains hung from the ceiling, billowing slightly in the soft breeze. Candles flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of mystery and seduction. The scent of incense permeated the air, mixing with the heat that now permeated between us.
I watched as the young woman who had sought my assistance stood before me, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desire, her body trembled ever so slightly, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Her vulnerability made me start to grow wet, knowing that she had willingly ventured into the depths of her darkest desires, it sent electricity through my body.
“Undress,” I commanded, my voice low and sultry, resonating with power. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, her gaze locked with mine. Slowly, piece by piece, she revealed her delicate form to me, her curves accentuated by the flickering candlelight.
Once she stood before me, adorned only in her pink lace underwear, I circled her like a predator, my eyes drinking in every inch of her exposed flesh. I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the war between her inhibitions and her desperate need for liberation. It was a battle I had seen countless times before, and one I relished winning.
With a swift movement, I closed the distance between us, pressing my body against hers. The girl’s breath hitched as she felt the heat emanating from my skin.
“Are you ready to surrender to your darkest desires, my sweet girl?” I whispered into her ear, my voice dripping with sinful promises.
Her response was a desperate moan, an affirmation that she craved the release I offered. I trailed my fingers lightly along her jawline, down her neck, and over the curve of her collarbone, savoring the shivers that danced beneath her skin. Slowly, teasingly, I moved lower, tracing delicate patterns over the swell of her breasts, eliciting soft gasps and pleading whimpers.
When my fingers dipped beneath the lace of her bra, I found her nipples already hardened, aching for attention. I circled them with my fingertips, applying gentle pressure, relishing the way she arched into my touch.
The girl’s moans grew louder, more desperate, as I teased her, my movements becoming bolder and more demanding.
Unable to resist any longer, I unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall to the ground. Her breasts, perky and enticing, were bared to my hungry gaze. I leaned in, capturing one hardened nipple between my lips, swirling my long, forked tongue around it, alternating between gentle licks and tantalizing bites. The girl’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me to take her to the brink of ecstasy. But I was not done with her yet, I released her nipple with a satisfying pop, and with a swift motion, I unhooked her lacy panties, letting them join the discarded pile of clothing.
The smaller girl stood before me gloriously naked, her small frame glistening with a mixture of anticipation and perspiration.
Moving behind her, I traced a line of kisses along her spine, reveling in the way her body shivered beneath my touch. My hands explored every curve, every dip and swell, igniting a fire within her that consumed any lingering doubts. I whispered words of encouragement, of permission, giving her the freedom to embrace her desires fully.
Positioning her against a padded bench, I secured her wrists with soft silk restraints, ensuring her submission.
Her eyes, now filled with a heady mix of anticipation and surrender, met mine in a silent plea for more.
I stepped back, admiring the delicious sight before me, her body offered up to me like a feast. The air crackled with electricity as I reached for a silk blindfold, gently covering her eyes, heightening her senses, and intensifying her vulnerability.
Slowly, deliberately, I trailed my fingers down her spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I reveled in the way her body arched towards my touch, the need for more palpable in the air. With each caress, I explored her, mapping every inch of her exposed skin, reveling in the symphony of gasps and moans that escaped her lips.
Lowering myself to my knees, I teased the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, alternating between feather-light kisses and soft bites. The freckled girl’s breathing grew ragged, her body trembling with a mixture of anticipation and desire. I savored the power I held over her, the intoxicating control that coursed through my veins.
With a deliberate slowness that bordered on torturous, I traced circles with my tongue around her throbbing core, savoring her taste, reveling in her sweet surrender. Her hips bucked, seeking more contact, more pleasure. But I maintained my deliberate pace, my tongue flicking and swirling, stoking the flames of her desire until she teetered on the edge. As her moans grew louder, her body writhing with an increasing urgency, I added a finger, slipping it inside her, curling it to find that sweet spot that would send her hurtling over the edge. Her walls clenched around me, a testament to her growing ecstasy. And just as she reached the precipice, I withdrew, denying her release.
Her soft whimpers of frustration only fueled my desire to push her further. I stood, my own arousal palpable, and shed my dress, baring my beautiful red skin to her hungry gaze. Moving with purpose, I positioned myself at the edge of the bench, my throbbing desire inches away from her parted lips.
“Please,” she pleaded, her voice a desperate plea for completion.
With a single, forceful thrust, I filled her with my fingers, claiming her in a primal union. The air was thick with desire, our bodies moving in a synchronized dance of passion. Each thrust pushed us closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release.
The dark hellish bedroom echoed with cries of pleasure, merging in a symphony of ecstasy that drowned out any lingering doubts or fears. In that moment, we were consumed by the flames of desire, our bodies intertwined in a dance of uninhibited passion.
As our climax washed over us, I pulled her head deeper into my throbbing lips, filling her mouth with me, one last time. The playroom, once shrouded in shadows, now basked in the aftermath of our fiery encounter.
Gradually, our breaths slowed, our bodies covered in each other’s juices. I removed the blindfold from her eyes, revealing a gaze filled with a newfound understanding of her desires, her demons, and her liberation.
“Remember” I whispered, my voice laced with a mix of tenderness and authority.
“You are free now. Free to embrace your darkness, and your desires.”
I brought my lips to hers in a kiss, inhaling the corrupt part of her soul that plagued her, fulfilling my end of the bargain. Then I snapped my fingers and transported her back to where I picked her up from, and sent myself to New York, to enjoy the next couple of hours in my devilish physical body.
The funny thing about only having a couple of hours in your physical body is that the thought of imminent combustion is always wheedling away at your mind like a screw. And I don’t mean the fun kind.
And while you’d like to enjoy the little time you have to the fullest, the only thing you seem to be able focus on is that moment of dissipation, when you puff into smoke like an ethereal fairy.
I’d tried to push past the thought and enjoy the time I had left.
Whenever I transformed into my tangible form there were a few things I enjoyed more than anything, sex, and coffee.
I had organized my remaining time into an efficient, sex filled schedule. Sex was always at top of the list, the feeling of dominating someone’s body to the point of pent-up sensual madness, was an unmatched feeling A close second though was coffee, and it didn’t hurt that it fueled my adventures in the former.
As I walked down the bustling streets of the city, I took in all the beautiful women who I brushed past. The sophisticated businesswoman, the rebellious anarchist, the artistic freedom fighter. The choices were never ending, and my mouth was starting to water. It wasn’t a guarantee that one of these supple creatures would make a deal with me for a memory wipe, but I had no doubt I could fill my sexual appetite with them. It didn’t take a demon pact to seduce a woman with the allure that I possessed.
Coffee first though. I needed a boost.
Turning the corner, I saw a sign that spoke to me like a prayer heard, “NY Coffee and Co.”
This would do.
I reached pulled the door open and proceed to enter café-
My body froze.
“What the fuck.”
I was locked at my knees in the front of the café.
I must’ve looked like a complete idiot.
My body felt as if the pressure of the earth itself was holding me in place. It was a feeling so foreign to me that I felt a feeling I hadn’t felt in over a century.
My mind raced to spaces it hadn’t gone in years, and I started down a spiral of dread that I didn’t know I could still enter.
I panicked, and prepared to release my physical body, turning back into a spirit of mist of mist.
But then, my legs moved ever so slightly.
And then, as if released out of mercy, the force that held me there seemed to let go.
I remained stunned for a second, reeling from the event, then I brushed off my dress, and proceeded to the counter ignoring the awkward glances I received from the customers who witnessed my sudden medusa-esque petrification.
“What the fuck was that.” I uttered the silent question to myself again.
It was probably just a side effect of my energy waning, maybe I had already lost too much, and my body wasn’t stable anymore.
Willfully Ignoring the bizarre situation, I had just endured, I walked up to the counter and proceeded to speak my place my order.
“A Latte with extr- “My voice caught in my throat.
I looked up at the barista and felt the same crushing weight I had felt just a moment ago, except this time, it only affected my heart.
I scanned the barista.
She was a girl who looked to be in her mid-twenties, with short, curly brown hair, and an impossibly tacky tattoo of a lizard on her wrist. By all intents and purposed she was a completely normal, slightly attractive girl.
I looked down at her name tag that was pinned to her ample chest.
And then it struck me.
The name… It was the name.
Looking at this girl, the source of this immense energy, I realized what she possessed.
A name in her memories that was so haunting and powerful that it could fuel me for months on end. Hell, maybe even years.
My curiosity and my lust rose like a youth pastors’ cock during mass.
I needed to do everything in my power to make this girl mine. To make her sign a deal for the name she held in her head. My body grew hot and wet from the thought.
“A Latte with extra…? she asked me quizzically.
“Uh, with extra cream please.” I replied, lost in thought.
“Make it a Venti.” I said with a smile that grew into a wicked grin.
End of Book 1 <3