Death Cherry

[Ash]

Ash found herself staring into space once more, how long had passed this time? Where was the voice that had berated her? Did it get bored and leave her behind? It was time she get her shit together and get off her ass. As comfortable as the mystery liquid was against her back she was tired of this immobile state she was in.

Before it was impossible to move as she didn’t really have any motivation to do so, but now with just a will to do so, she moved. All at once her stiff lifeless body twisted into motion and when she was belly down the Demoness was suddenly on a waterbed instead, between satin sheets the color of grapefruit. The water responded to her body’s motion by rocking her gently for a few minutes before it comes to an eventual stop.

As this happens, she gets a good look at herself in the mirror that was the headboard. Her face surprised her, if only because she could see it and see that it was whole. She had no idea why she was surprised, why wouldn’t she have a face? It did look a little, in the fact that it looked like it had been pressed into her arm for a good part of the night. A big bright spot showed through the cheek slightly. She noticed her piercings were gone, her make-up smeared, and her black hair fell off her shoulders. Long strands of ebony web down her back, horns, and shoulders, the dim light reflecting off each section. She also didn’t remember letting her hair grow out, it has never been so long.

Under the sheets her naked body moved once more, the waves under her tested her balance as she sat up, dragging her legs across the surface while she planted her ass on the still moving bed. The ripples tickled her sensitive bits the same way the mystery liquid lapped at it before, but suddenly her body was a little more sensitive. As she settled on the bed, the sheets were already clinging to her smooth skin only to fall like curtains across her lap and around her backside to prove to the image looking back at her that they were both naked. She showed most of all the signs of just having a hot night with someone, except she lacked the slightly bruised feeling between her legs that promised her she had a good time.

Other than her hair, there was no visible change to her body she could see. Or at least remembered. Everything else that was off immediately came to her in an instant, so with that she decided nothing else must have changed. She gets back onto her knees and pushes herself closer to the mirror, inspecting the damage to her make-up and trying to give two shits. Maybe her friend who was lurking in the house somewhere liked the trashy look.

Next, she stuck out her tongue, the inside of her mouth and the pierced appendage that fell out were darker and more blue than her epidermis. The silver rod was shining brightly, covered in a thin layer of saliva. She didn’t see any surprises there, so she slid it back in her mouth. The holes were hard to see, but she could see five sets between her brows, the indentation in her skin for her nose, and the hole in her lip. She was satisfied her body remained defaced. With that out of the way, Ash went to leave by sitting back down and preparing to half roll half slide across the sheets to get off the bed but was stopped when the image in the mirror remained on her hands and knees.

This was clearly just to get her attention, the image smiled and then lowered her butt on the sheets. Except suddenly in the mirrored world the bed was replaced with a stage, behind her a pole. Lights flickered to the beat of the music which was mute at first, but slowly the volume rose; as did the Ash in the mirror.

Her mirrored ass glides up the pole first, she wore a thong that had a pentagram in the triangle of fabric that her tail normally fought because of where it sat, but her tail was missing. The mirror Ash’s butt reached the peak before a flash of black washed over the ‘screen’ as she snapped herself up right. When the hair flew out of view the barely horny girl from her past stood, grinding her hips into the pole. She was practically topless, her breast barely modest by a cropped-top vest with only one button which was not fastened.

She still had platinum white hair with hot pink streaks, styled in a Mohawk just as it had been prior to this waterbed, and the makings of her horns were just poking out of either side of the gelled hair.

Paper money as it was in the old days started to flutter around the dancer with impossibly high heels as she grabbed the pole and and let every ounce of her weight carry her into a simple spin. The outer shell of the pole twisted while the inside remained unmoving couldn’t be heard over the booming bass and the approving lewd hollers. She kicked up off the floor and threw herself into the air. Her feet sliced through the air while both hand grasped the gold case of the pole. It appeared she was defying gravity as she looped her body like a alligator's death roll.

When she stopped the perception point has shifted to be behind the thrill seeking devil, angled down at her neck, aiming right at the silver circle at the base of her skull. It looked a lot like the place you jacked in your headphones on a common computer, only big enough to stick your thumb into.

In front of the unsuspecting Storm Demon was a city-scape. Lights mimicked stars in numbers and brightness. The illusion was broken by the different colors of lights, and a neon sign advertising some bar: Blasted Cat. The wind picked up and ruffled her outfit which consisted of a tattered looking skirt that layered between broken stripes of black sheer mesh and black tears of a special cotton blend. Her legs were covered in black tights that reached to at least her knees, but the combat boots covered the rest of her feet after that. Her back was to the ‘audience’, leaving only the Death-like hood to flap in the wind, the rest of the long cloak to float ghostly at her back.

She was on the edge of a building, legs dangling off the side, as if contemplating suicide. The hawk was now black, her skin richer in color, and her tail whipped among the layers of black just enough to be seen briefly. In her hand, a shiny red grappling hook.

Without warning, the woman in the mirror lept into the open air. She hung there a second, like all that useless material in her skirt caught the wind and made her hover, only long enough for the world to remember she couldn’t fly and began to pull her down to earth once more.

As she was seized by gravity and dragged down, the ‘camera’ remained, staring at empty air for at least 10 seconds before the hook’s arch sent it around the neck of a gargoyle on the other side of the street, an ornament for the building before it was reclaimed for some business. Perhaps the owner didn’t even know of his guardians. Ash watched herself shoot up into the air again, before vanishing into the background once more.

Her blank eyes stared at the lonely street before they refocused and revealed her image once more. Like when you stare out a window you’ve pressed your face into to see what’s on the other side, only to notice the other image the glass was reflecting and straining to see what that was. Eventually you see yourself, and that’s what she was staring at.

Ash had to test it, lifting her hand up and clawing her polished nails through her now long black hair, raking it back and out of her face. She watches as her reflection does the same and then decides she’s done playing Alice. Freeing the rest of her body from the sheets she rolls across the ever moving terrain until her toes find solid ground in the form of a shag carpet.

Standing after laying on water for so long felt off. For a moment she thought she was drunk by how she fell into the dresser, but couldn’t remember doing that. Of course, she was suddenly having a hard time remembering anything outside of herself. Who did she go home with? This tacky furniture and the gimmicky waterbed surely didn’t belong to her, but she looked around regardless from her supported lean from the corner of the room to get some kind of feel for where she was.

There was decor, but nothing fancier than a carbon copy of some ‘painting’ that was meant to stimulate you mentally hanging on the wall. She saw an impossibly old television with a VHS sitting on top of it, and VHS tapes on top of that. Using the dresser, the bed frame, and a wall she moved closer to the old as fuck set-up to see the movie selection. Stacked three high and two across were obvious pornos. If the cheesy lines didn’t give them away, the images of naked women being taken from behind by naked men solidified the thought. There was a limited variety, but they did have girl-on-girl and guy-on-guy for those with more refined tastes.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she hit the power button on both the VHS-player and the TV. She expected the speakers to explode with lewd moaning and the classic ‘Oh yes, fuck yes’ lines porn films were full of, but found instead a blank screen. She frowned at this at first, because that was boring, after thinking about it she always thought porn was a distraction and not an aphrodisiac. It could be, and often opened the minds of men to the idea of fucking her if they weren’t already thinking that, but during the actual act? She’d rather turn on some metal and try to scream louder than the lead singer.

She tended to win that, but only because of her range as a female.

Ash pouted as she took a seat on the wood that framed the mattress full of water, still thinking it was boring not to at least watch something.

The screen flickered right in front of her, the sharp click of someone changing the channel snapped, and there on the screen she saw herself once more. She was running through the concrete jungle that was the city. Her feet were in the same combat boots, her pants tucked inside. She wore a black shirt, but the bright white partially there skull art took up the whole front which flapped freely around as she chased after whatever it was she sought, the sides looked like they were bunched up and tied off under her arms, but the shirt was made like that. The back was about the same, minus the skull. Her tail was clear as day, but the horns didn’t look fully developed.

The grappling hook bounced dangerously at her hip, as secure as it could be without tying it down or making it impossible to use at a moment’s notice, its influence on her image not yet finished.

Across her face was a smug grin, as to what was happening before was anyone’s guess, except Ash’s.

She remembers her races with Bandit around the city, usually the finish line was his place which was an abandoned ship in the harbor he’d strung a bunch of Christmas lights around in one section of and managed some furniture into somehow. It was his very own bachelor pad and it was great for hanging out and plotting out their crimes. He was all kinds of sexy, but he was shy. When he manned up enough to lure her into his bedroom he rocked her world.

Ash watched herself leap into a chain-link fence, then up it. It had been a guard to keep people from falling, but she wanted to fall. The past Ash jumped off the top of it and down the rabbit hole. She loved the feeling she got from falling. Diving off the railing of Coruscant’s highest tier and twisting her way down the maze that was the following tiers gave her a high nothing else could. It was dangerous and satisfying, on the same level as sex with a man who really knew how to fuck you. Sometimes it was even better.

You would think it was the most stressful part of her life, but it’s sinful how jumping off a building can make you feel.

The television clicked again and she watched the ‘power on’ light burn out like the last ember in a fire.

Ash picked herself up a second time, much more comfortable walking on land again, she moved to the open door to the side. She could just make out a shower curtain in the dark, and when she flicked the switch she saw its tropical pattern with girls in grass skirts; she just rolled her eyes and moved to the sink.

There was no sign of permanent living to it, no toothbrush, no medicine cabinet full of secrets, no counter really. Just a small bar of soap for your hands and a hand towel to the side. It was the color of sand and had an angel fish embroidered into the bottom of the ‘front’ side. It was also obviously used and tossed haphazardly over the railing. She glanced at the toilet, the seat was lifted up and left there.

She lowered the seat and sat down herself, as she answered nature’s call she looked at the magazine rack that had been nailed to the wall under the toilet paper dispenser. It was full of all kinds of magazines, including but not limited to swim-suits monthly, playboy, playgirl, and even ‘GoodHouseKeeping’. She didn’t reach for anything because a second later she was cleaning up and washing her hands. She snapped the light off and moved towards the final door.

Just as she touched the handle, she heard the television snap back on. Turning back she watched as Deadpool waited impatiently near a changing station in a local shop, tapping his foot, tapping his fingers, tapping into his store clerk and dressing a nearby mannequin in the craziest outfit he could muster. No one would dare wear that hat with that top, or with those shoes, but it was a way to kill boredom while Jak stuffed himself into tight ass jeans.

It replayed the scene from Dante’s Abyss where Deadpool suggest Jak might want to put in the effort to possibly using his junk as a weapon. Both men knew how silly that really would be, but it brought a smile to her face regardless.

She put her back to the room and walked away.

There was a little hall, attached to it was just a staircase, and down the steps she would find one last room. It was the living room, it followed the same cheesy 80’s into 90’s theme. The couch was brown with a lazy-susie design, and probably cheap material; shaggy floor. There was something a little more modern in the room though, the eco-warrior himself, playing with his commlink. Or whatever was before that. He was almost as naked as she was, sadly he has put his pants back on. And not the really tight ones.

With steps deafened by the rug and a swiftness she was known for, she was behind him. Her hands grabbing his hips, her thumbs pushing into the waistline of his jeans.

Obviously Jak was startled, but must have remembered where he was and who his company was. Though she was assuming a lot given that she woke up alone and naked. She found no evidence they had done anything, and truthfully the half-assed discarding of the hand towel could have been her before she stripped down and fell asleep. However, he didn’t attack her or seem surprised by another person coming up on him. When he managed to turn around is the same time these assumptions being just that became a possibility as he seemed surprised more than ever at finding a naked woman reaching into his pants.

Hot in the face and trying to be respectful, Mar looked away from the woman in front of him, but Ash was not about to let it bother her. How could she? Becoming a stripper was the best job she’d ever taken on a whim. She enjoyed playing with the minds of men, reading them in the dark with a throbbing light on her was hard at times, but you learned how to perform to cater to their desires after a while. Faces blurred together and were unimportant, what was important was how wild they went when she picked up on their wants and needs. It was already adrenalizing to dance in front of strangers while taking her clothes off, but to have power over them if only for about 3 minutes was criminal, incorrigible, addicting..
The Storm Demon grabbed him by his sexy jaw and pulls him down to kiss her. Too shocked to do anything she pushes him into the nearby wall and presses her naked body to his half-naked form, slamming Jak into the wall behind him hard enough for the plastic picture frame with a flower rattle on the wall. Stunned, Jak couldn’t even think about stopping her, and pretty soon he wouldn’t be able to. She felt down his chest, her fingertips were ice-cold compared to his skin which burned her fingers to touch. She knew exactly where to put her hands though, and whens he found the waistband once more, her fingers slid between fabric and flesh.

As she pushed the boundary between them, her head tilted and her tongue ran across his lip. He was helpless to her advancement, still confused by what was happening he followed her lead. Their tongue’s collide like the ocean waves on rock. He’d feel her tongue ring as she rubbed her tongue along his. It must have been so strange to him, but he must have liked it because he began to rub back and began to relax, letting his hands come down on her bare shoulders. Eventually she even squeezed her shoulders as he began to get into it. She could feel him rise to attention at her hand, and she felt sorry for his poor pants. If she didn’t get him out of them now, he’d rip them with his hard-on.

---

When Ash’s eyes open again she stood surrounded by darkness once more. A light flashes on and shines across an old silver mirror she remembers from the treasure trove inside The Leviathan she’d tracked down before being uploaded into this game. As she approached it, she saw herself briefly. She wore a pair of simple white shorts, and a loose white tank top. It was disturbing how a simple outfit could trigger her. She wanted to rip it off her, or force the color to change, but before that:

The surface went blank like a bright light had exploded on the other side. Then she could make out the rippling of water and after a while she could accurately describe it as if she were underwater, looking up at the Nexus’ sky. Without thinking, she reached up and touched the surface of the mirror. It responded to her touch much like a puddle to rain, the surface shimmered and then the ripples grew out until it reached the edges.

With the thoughts of Jak still fresh in her mind but almost everything else forgotten, she reaches into the mirror, ready to go back.