Second Coming

 

“What? Why me?"

“Why not you?" Jason clapped his hands. “Chop! Chop! Let's go, Beth."

“But what about my costume?" I asked, standing there in nothing but three inch heels and a g-string, both in glittering silver. “I need my top…Hey!"

“They have a costume waiting," he said, yanking me past a dozen girls who might have been my twin sisters.

We were all between five-nine and six feet tall, less than 115 pounds, blonde hair, bleached in my case, and blue eyes. Those were real, by the way, just like my jiggling 36C's and believe it or not, cup size was another job requirement. I half-ran after Jason as he held my hand, clicking my heels and praying I didn't break one. It would be fifty bucks out of my pocket and they didn't pay us much more than minimum wage.

“I'm a showgirl, not some stupid assistant!" I yelled, but that didn't even slow him down as we took a left, heading for stage 6B and the Fantasia Lounge.

“Look, it's the big Halloween show. The guy needs an assistant," he said. “So you're it. Just do whatever he tells you. Smile a lot and look sexy."

"I hate Halloween," I muttered.

We passed stage hands, wardrobes, security, more girls and a thousand other behind the scenes people who made the magic in Vegas. Backstage was ugly, chaotic, and utterly depressing compared to the glamour the customers enjoyed from the other side of the curtains.

“Asshole!" I slapped some guy's hand away from my ass.

“Sweet cheeks!" he called after us with a chuckle.

The thong hid my little pink butthole and covered my pussy like a second skin, but that's all it did. The exertion of running helter skelter had gotten my heart going and I flushed pink all over, my brown nipples grown long and stiff. Beautiful women are a dime a dozen in Vegas, but even so I was suddenly getting more attention than I wanted as we went through a door and into the 6B backstage.

The Fantasia Lounge did magic shows and hypnotists, mind readers and crap like that. The place was family oriented, unlike the burlesque shows in which I normally performed. The people working here didn't get to see a woman like me up close and personal everyday. It wasn't my body though, not my looks, but merely my outfit that drew the attention. People are dumb that way, confusing what we wear with who we are. I ignored the catcalls and whistles without a hint of shame, but it wasn't easy.

“Do you mind?" I stared back at a couple lighting guys draped in cables.

“Nah, we don't mind," one of them said, getting a laugh out of his buddy.

“Here she is," Jason said to the stage manager. “Where's she gotta be?"

“What's your name, doll face?" the man asked, and I blinked at him.

“Doll face?"

“Her name's Beth," Jason cut me off before I could think of something witty. “She's a dancer, but she can do anything. She's a trooper."

“Beth, okay. I'm Franco, look we're a little crazy tonight with this Halloween thing." He put his arm around my waist and I shot Jason a frown over my shoulder. “You heard of Anton Sarkov, right?"

“Yeah," I agreed, ignoring the guy's fingers as he squeezed my hip. “Who hasn't? Oh! You mean he's the…"

“The guy you're gonna assist," Franco said, leading me to a door marked private. “He's kinda wacky, right? But he's high priority too, so you do whatever he says."

“I've never done this…"

“You're beautiful," Franco said, putting his hand on my ass and pushing me through the door.

He didn't follow and I jumped as I heard the door snick shut behind me. After the confusion outside, this room seemed positively placid, although nothing could completely silence the muffled din coming through the walls. Still, I'd never been in a private dressing room and this one had real wood paneling, thick red carpet, even a chandelier.

“I guess it's nice to be high priority, huh?" I said, speaking to the back of a man sitting at a dressing table.

He didn't answer me, or even move, so I stood there and looked around. To my left a bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice, surrounded by flowers on a glass coffee table. From adoring fans, I supposed, and I'd gotten flowers once. A dozen roses addressed to “Third girl from the left" courtesy of a secret admirer. Stupid stuff like that happens all the time, believe me.

“Hello?" I said. “Mr. Sarkov?"

“Call me Anton," he replied, turning in his chair to look at me. “You're taller than I expected."

“Five-eleven without the heels," I said. “You want me to take them off?"

“No," he said, and like most performers, he had good looks to complement his natural charisma.

I guessed him to be thirty maybe, with a strong face, clean shaven and vaguely European, although I couldn't say why. Probably because of his accent, and his name of course, although names are like underwear in our business, some people like to change them every other day. He had long, black hair combed straight back from a broad forehead, and it curled around the color of his starched white shirt. He wore a black bowtie and a crimson cummerbund, and his tuxedo coat was draped over the back of his chair.

“I've, uh…never been a magician's assistant," I told him. “I have no idea why they picked me, but…"

“Fate."

“Excuse me?"

“Fate chose you," he decided. “You're very beautiful."

“I get that a lot." I rolled my eyes. “Thanks."

“No, I mean…" He took a deep breath, cocked his head, and let it out slowly. “Never mind."

“Okay. I will," I agreed. “Do you think I can wear something, or do you want me to go out there like this?"

"What's that?" he asked. "On your hand."

"Huh? Oh, it's a scar or something. I don't know." I rubbed the back of my hand self-consciously, wondering how he'd even noticed it.

"It's interesting." Anton smiled. "Like you, I think."

"I'm just here to work. Okay?"

“I'd like to know your name," he said, rising from his chair. “If that isn't impolite."

“Elizabeth," I replied, licking my lips as he crossed the dozen feet between us.

“But you prefer Beth," he said, fixing his dark eyes on mine and I nodded. They had a light, a shadow dancing far away at the bottom of his gaze.

“Sometimes," I said, trying to focus on that faint flicker. “My friends call me Beth."

"But not your lovers?" he asked, baiting me. “I'm going to kiss you, Beth."

“I don't, um…" I narrowed my eyes and wanted to look elsewhere, but I couldn't.

“You're going to kiss me back, aren't you?"

“Yessss…" I breathed.

His fingertips touched my bare tummy and slid downward. I felt his humid breath on my lips and I'd closed my eyes without realizing it. I gasped as I felt his hand caressing my vulva through the sequin covered thong. My knees weakened and my thighs were spreading for his fingers. The pressure on my sex pushed my heart like a shot of adrenaline and his mouth covered mine, stifling a sharp gasp. The man's tongue slipped inside and we were kissing deeply, my nipples burning cold as they rubbed against his chest. I felt my orgasm rising and I very nearly fell beneath the weight of that awful, awesome pleasure.

“Oh God!" I blinked and literally leapt away as something brushed against my calves.

A black cat regarded me with emerald eyes, purring with its ears pointed up and tail twitching.

“My better half," Anton said from his chair.

He hadn't stood up at all. He'd never moved and I felt dizzy and confused, staring at him and feeling my vaginal walls spasm with my receding orgasm. I'd grown hot and wet, my clitoris thrummed and my skin glistened with perspiration. My nipples felt ready to pop as they strained for attention. I could barely catch my breath and I struggled to control the rapid beating of my heart. Everything had seemed so real. I even had the taste of him in my mouth, a flavor alien and indescribable. He had kissed me, I was certain of it, and yet he couldn't have.

“Did she frighten you, Elizabeth?" Anton asked, pursing his lips as the cat began licking its left paw. “Stasya can be of a possessive type, I'm afraid."

“What was that?" I asked. “What happened?"

“I don't know," he said carefully. “What do you think happened?"

“You…You hypnotized me or…Something," I said with a hard swallow. “I have to go."

“I need you," he said. “The performance of a lifetime."

“I don't care," I decided, turning around and reaching for the handle of the door only… “Where's the handle?"

“There isn't one, I'm afraid."

“But…" I pushed on the door and it wouldn't budge. “Let me out!"

I banged on the door and even tried kicking it, but nothing happened. Nobody opened it.

“Elizabeth," he said. “It's alright. You're safe."

“You did something to me."

“There's a robe hanging there." He pointed at a portable closet, the plastic kind with the flaps unzipped.

“Did you hypnotize me?"

“I wanted to be certain," he said. “Get the robe; we don't have much time left."

“You do it again and I'm going to walk," I promised, staring at the man. “Understand?"

“Perfectly," he agreed with a smile.

“It wasn't funny," I muttered, giving the cat a wide berth as I went to the closet.

“The white one," he told me, for there were a number of hooded robes. “You can just put it on, it doesn't matter what you wear underneath."

“What do I have to do?"

“I'm going to make you disappear," Anton told me. “I'll ask for my lovely assistant, Elizabeth…"

“Okay."

“You'll enter the stage and stand where I tell you to," he said. “That's all there is to it."

“And then what?"

“And then I'll make you disappear."

“Yeah, but…" I smiled at him. “How does it work?"

“Magic!" he said with a chuckle, and I thought I detected a gleam in his eyes, which was very annoying.

“Right," I said. “But how does it really work? Am I going down a trapdoor or is it mirrors? I have to know where to go, don't I?"

“Only I have to know where you have to go…I think," he teased me. “That's rather confusing."

“Fine." I'd lost my patience.

Between getting pulled off my regular gig, walking next to naked through one of the largest casinos in the world, and getting hypnotized by an asshole…There's only so much a girl can take. And that stupid cat kept staring at me.

Someone rapped on the door. “Five minutes, Mr. Sarkov."

I pulled on the robe and it was only that, a long white robe with a cowl to cover my head. There were wide sleeves that covered my arms down to my fingertips, but nothing special about it. I had no idea how the trick would work and I really hoped nobody would blame me if I screwed it up somehow. It also struck me as strange that Anton hadn't discussed anything else I'd have to do. Didn't the assistant hold his hat or bring props on and off stage? I'd seen a couple magic shows, but I'd been watching the magician, of course.

“What happened to your old assistant?" I wondered.

“She wasn't so old," the man replied, definitely standing then as he pulled on his coat.

“You know what I mean," I sighed as the door opened and one of the stage hands looked inside the room.

“One minute," he said, and Anton nodded.

“I had a brief affair with a young woman from Paris."

“So?" I followed the stage hand while Anton followed me.

“She had something of a jealous nature," he said with a smile. “My assistant, I mean. The girl from Paris, on the other hand…Oh! What a fire! She had nothing to be jealous of, believe me."

“Thanks," I sighed. “It all makes perfect sense now."

I waited just offstage until I got my cue and if I felt nervous, it was only because I felt so confused about what we were doing.

“…Elizabeth." Anton held out his arm as the crowd clapped politely. “Show our guests how lovely you are, my dear."

With a wave of his hand the front of my robe opened, although I'd detected no opening in the material whatsoever. No zipper or Velcro, no hooks or buttons of any sort. The robe was all of one piece and yet Anton made it part like the Red Sea, exposing my body completely as I stood there in my glittering thong and heels.

“She is beautiful, no?" he asked the audience, and I had goosebumps despite the warmth of my sudden blush. “Like a treasure, a man would hate to misplace something so priceless as our darling Elizabeth."

He paused, staring at me as I returned his dark gaze, and I had it in mind to leave the stage. There were women and children in the audience who couldn't have expected to see a naked woman paraded before them. My proud breasts, topped with their swollen nipples, rose and fell as I forced myself to take deep, slow breaths. My tummy quivered and I closed my hands into fists. I had to stand there and soon enough Anton closed my robe.

He spoke while he did it and even as I watched his hands, I couldn't discover the secret. He simply pulled the robe closed and it stayed that way, as if the cloth had healed itself. Anton lifted the hood, tugging it over my forehead until my face had been hidden in the shadow. He explained to the crowd that he intended to put me someplace safe, beyond the reach of leering, mortal men and their lusty appetite. He drew the expected response, laughter from the men, sympathetic smiles from their wives, and the crowd leaned forward with anticipation. They expected a curtain perhaps, or a box to enclose me the way so many other magicians performed the trick.

“…and now she is gone," he said, yanking the robe away with a flourish.

“What?" I stood in my heels and thong, fists at my sides as I looked around the dressing room.

I'd taken no tunnel. I hadn't slipped off the stage behind some maze of mirrors. I'd been standing there in the robe and an instant later I was someplace else. It hadn't been a trick. It had to be a trick. My mind refused to accept the evidence. He'd hypnotized me again. Had I even left the dressing room? It seemed as if I'd been dreaming, but I hadn't. I remembered being on the stage, the faces of the men in the crowd staring at my body. Had he tricked my mind? Made me forget how I'd gotten here just to protect his secrets? Could he do that?

“I'm going crazy," I thought aloud.

“Hmmmm…Not yet," a woman whispered.

She looked pale with raven hair and emerald eyes, naked as she lounged on the leather sofa drinking champagne. A second glass sat on the coffee table, half-full and bubbling patiently.

“I took the liberty," she said. “Sit down. He won't need you again until the end of his silly act."

“Anton?"

“He does enjoy his little games." She smiled at me, lifting her left leg and playing her foot along the top of the sofa. “Elizabeth…"

“How do you know my name?"

“…sit down," she said, ignoring my question. “You're making me nervous."

I wanted to ask her how I'd gotten from the stage to the dressing room, but something about her made me reluctant to admit my ignorance. Perhaps it was her nakedness, so casual and careless the way she spread her legs. Nothing about her was hidden and I couldn't help compare myself to her. I found her beauty intimidating. Her attitude as well. Her smile frustrated me, but I didn't understand why. 

"You are beautiful," she sighed.

"Where's the cat?" I wondered, looking around the dressing room.

"But not terribly bright."

"Excuse me?" I decided champagne would be a good idea.

"Sit here," she suggested, patting the leather cushion as she sat gracefully upright. "I won't bite, I promise. I'm supposed to make you comfortable."

"Stasya?" I stared into her eyes, not merely green, but luminous as she smiled back at me.

I sat down beside her, although every part of me wished to run. I felt cold, a chill ran along my spine and I drank half the glass with three quick gulps. When she toughed me, dragging her long, red fingernails across my shoulders, I told myself I was only dreaming. I'd been hypnotized. Anton had done it to me once, he could certainly do it again. I doubted my senses and closed my eyes.

"You're a lucky girl, Elizabeth," she whispered, leaning close enough to tease my ear with the tip of her tongue. "It's Hallowed Eve, the one night when we can be ourselves."

"Stop," I breathed, almost dropping my glass to the floor as her other hand touched my stomach. It crawled like a spider, upward to my breasts.

"Shhh...Look at me," she said, turning my head, forcing me to open my eyes.

Stasya's lips touched mine and I opened for her long, delicate tongue. I whimpered into her mouth, bending my spine and twisting into her kiss. She covered my left breast, pressing her palm against my swollen nipple, against my pounding heart. My own hands fluttered helplessly. The glass had fallen to the carpet. There was only that kiss, her tongue teasing mine, coaxing me to chase her from my mouth into hers.

She pushed me backward and down, so that the leather sofa seemed to envelop me in its cool embrace. I was only dimly aware of another pair of hands, lifting my legs, spreading my thighs around his naked body. Anton, I thought, and my eyes were open, but trapped within Stasya's emerald gaze. She refused to break our kiss and I wasn't strong enough. I could do nothing but moan as my g-string was tugged aside.

When he entered me, I jerked in Stasya's arms. I tried to scream as a deep, burning blade pierced my female heart. I'd been a virgin until that moment, as unlikely as it may seem, it was true nonetheless and my hymen was torn. The damp, rusty scent of blood mixed with other, more pungent odors. The musk of male arousal, the sharp tang of my own cunt clasped tightly around the man's prick. I felt him reaching for my womb, holding my thighs in his strong hands with my knees high and bent over his shoulders.

I came with a rush of warmth, a fire loosed from my taut belly and I clung to Stasya like a child, mewling with pleasure. I nursed on her tongue, shivering and rocking beneath the erection bruising the bottom of my sex. He drove himself into my cervix, kissing that soft pillow with the head of his cock. The sensation was painful and beautiful, electric in its intensity and I couldn't stop cumming. I pulled at the both of them, lifting my hips to find more of that wondrous joy. I pushed myself against him, feeling his heavy balls slapping my ass, his fingers digging into my soft flesh.

Only at the very end, when Anton held me impaled fully on his cock, did Stasya release me. I arched my back, gasping as I felt a man's ejaculate filling me for the first time in my life. He fell on me, licking the sweat from my throat, lapping along my jaw, and finally kissing me in our climax. The thick fur covering his chest felt coarse as it moved across my stomach and breasts. I found his powerful shoulders with my hands, shaggy and bristling with excitement. My legs wrapped themselves around his muscular haunches, the muscle beneath his fur taut with the effort of driving his thick semen into my womb.

I opened my eyes and saw the fire in his eyes. No shadows there, not anymore, just black flames leaping across a sea of emptiness. His great horns curled outward from his dark brow and he bared his yellow teeth, pushing his serpent's tongue over mine, gagging me with it, choking me even as I closed my lips around it. I suckled the beast with my lips, with my polluted sex tugging at his obscene flesh. I closed my eyes , falling, sleeping, dreaming until the glass slipped from my fingers.

"Oh!" I blinked and felt the wine, cold and wet and staining my ankles.

"Are you alright?" Stasya wondered, smiling as she sipped from her own glass.

"What happened?" I could barely whisper the words as I drew a deep breath. "He did it again, didn't he?"

"Oh no," she replied with a shake of her head. "Not again, Elizabeth. He's going to need you soon, I think."

"But...Oh God!" I looked down to see blood near the top of my thighs, stained pinkish where it mixed with something else.

"You're going to have a child," the woman said. "He'll be known as a Prince of men and they will call him Legion, for he will be many."

"I can't...I won't," I breathed, cupping my sex through my thong and knowing I was full of semen. I could feel it inside me, still warm, still alive.

"And you will be the mother of a great host and sit at the foot of his throne as the Whore of Babylon and kings will kneel at your feet."

"You're crazy," I said. "I'm dreaming. This isn't real."

"It's Hallowed Eve and tonight, Elizabeth, angels weep and all mankind cries out with a single voice, a single word..."

"Mercy," I whispered.

Stasya raised her glass, offering me a silent toast as the dressing room vanished, replaced with the Fantasia Lounge and thousands of surprised and curious faces staring at me. I wore the white robe, the one I'd worn such a brief eternity before and my knees weakened with confusion.

"...safe and sound, my rare treasure," Anton continued, gesturing towards me. "Or is she?"

His handsome face became alarmed and I felt a slight pressure in my back. My shoulders ached and my breasts felt heavy. I turned my head down and saw the robe pushed outward, bulging around my swollen belly. The linen had grown wet with milk leaking from my distended nipples. They were dark and prominent beneath the spreading stains and I gasped softly as I felt something moving inside me. A sharp, almost painful kicking sensation made me wince and I cradled my stomach, feeling the child beneath soft layers of tissue.

"I dare say!" Anton tugged the robe off my shoulders, exposing my pregnancy to the crowd. "Some scoundrel, some...fiend, has had his way with my virginal bride!"

The audience offered a collective gasp at my near nudity, emphasized to a much greater degree than previously. After a second or two, they clapped and cheered, perhaps recognizing me, perhaps not. The skeptics doubtless imagined I had a twin sister, or that my condition had been faked. But they wanted to be amazed. They wanted the illusion to be real and making a woman disappear, vanish and reappear in the blink of an eye, was a good trick. Some of them wanted to believe in the miracle. It was Hallowed Eve and my baby would be born on All Saint's Day, one minute after midnight.

"Well..." Anton smiled apologetically. "She was virginal at any rate. It only goes to show, keep what is most precious in your heart, not in Las Vegas."

The crowd laughed, right on cue and he held out his hand. The fire danced in his eyes and I had no choice but to accept, dipping my head obediently as we faced the audience.

"If you will permit me, my friends, I have one small favor to ask of you."

His thumb caressed the back of my right hand, teasing a scar I'd had since birth to painful life. A birthmark, but pale and puckered, and always with me, every second of every day. It took the form of three numbers, or only one, as some might prefer and it burned, but nothing like sudden pain of my first contraction.

"Ahhh!" I winced, hugging my stomach and bending over it.

"It must be nearly midnight," Anton said. "Deep breaths, Elizabeth. Try to relax, this will all be over soon."

"Does she need a doctor?" someone in the audience wondered. There were murmurs of agreement, of genuine concern as the crowd's confusion grew.

"No. Please remain in your seats." He held up his hand while another sharp contraction kicked the air out of my lungs. "She only needs you to bear witness, to record what you see here tonight, and carry its message to the far corners of the earth."

"It hurts!" I groaned, barely able to stand as my water broke. The fluid spilled down my legs and formed a puddle on the stage.

A few people gasped, most of them were standing, watching silently as the moment drew near. The tension had become palpable and the air felt heavy as I sank to my knees and onto my back. Another contraction and he did me the favor of removing my thong, pressing his fingers deep inside my sex to caress my dilated cervix. I held my breath, pushing against the pain with gritted teeth and clenched fists. My baby was coming and I sobbed, steeling myself for another push, and another after that.

"This is how the world ends. Elizabeth," Anton whispered, stroking my flushed brow. "Not with a bang, but with a whimper."

 

        The End