The Dark Side of the Sun

It’s funny how things go in waves. Nudist night now has a group of people that must have all OD’ed on heroine to die. I really want to line them up and play xylophone on their ribs..
Our regulars are wonderful. They welcome just about anybody. I know I have said this before, but one of the cool things about hell is you look like you pictured yourself when you were alive. Anorexic supermodels now weigh 300lbs (fortunately they stay home for most of these nights).
Tonight we have several games lined up. We set up a sushi bar on whoever’s name gets drawn. Then we are doing a slave auction. Both are rigged (don’t judge me, I’m in hell for a reason).
He music is lower than normal tonight so that people can chit chat.
Being behind the bar, it is weird how conversations mld together. Listening to the intetrtwinings of about 3 different conversations now.
In one, where I think they are talking about their previous lives, “at times it was all just instinct. I would just react and hope I was right.”
A few chairs down, another conversation seemed o have a reply, though they were talking about people they had met since dying, “Yah I just turned around and there she was.”
Almost on queue, the conversation fades. Electricity fills the air. Before looking, I pour a cinnamon martini and walk to the edge of the bar. Where, even naked, her presence commands the respect of every eye in the room. Handing her her drink as the breath pours out of me, she smirks and says, “Thanks david. Good to see you again.”
Stunned that she would be here, on this night, struggle to gain composure as I reply, “The pleasure is all mine.”
“Fucking cheesey,” I think to myself, “come on David.”
“Watch the Bar!” I holler to B as I step around the bar to attempt to learn more about this lady, this presence.
“Three times in one week…”
“So far,” she interrupts.
I smile, of course. She perceived my lack of come back and just leaned in and kissed me.
I think I forgot what blushing felt like, but the warmth in my cheeks and the impending giggle made me feel like a 17 year old human again.
She giggled first. Contagious. For some reason, I am one of those that cannot contain giggling once others have started, so we laughed. No other sound in the bar except us. All my questions about who she is, how she knows me, and how she carries herself melted with each chuckle.
My lips draw to hers as I lean in, put my hand in the back of her hair, give it a slight tug, and kiss her. Her moan lets me know that I read her right. So entwined in the kiss, and lost in her eyes (dammit I love it when a girl will look in your eyes while kissing you), barely notice that she has one hand tracing the moon tattoo on my chest while the other is caressing its way lower.
Lost in her eyes, my own hands decide they have waited on my mind long enough and begin exploring her back. They split directions as one goes back to mingle with her hair and the other maps out the contours of her lower back and ass.
Some thought of the bar and the customers flies over my head, but my mind refuses to reach out and grab hold of it.
She whispers my name, “david.” Whispers is an overstatement. She mouths my name on my ear and my body shudders.
“Yes.” I whisper back and she just smiles, grabs my hand and pulls me to a booth. Not a booth in some corner, but, just the closest booth he could see.
She is still in control, but somehow makes me feel that I am taking the lead. The strangest feeling of comfort and freedom.
“I watched you the other night,” she whispers as she sits on the corner of the booth.
“The other night?”
“Yes. With Denise.”
“Oh,” I reply. Her reply was muffled by her full mouth and I forget what we were talking about. Locked in her eyes, all I can think is, “this is how it always has been.” I struggle to close my eyes and give into pleasure, but my eyes refuse to leave her gaze.
Grasping her shoulders, I pull her up to me, kiss her, and gently lay her down on the booth. I pull the table out into the room and kneel down beside her to kiss her. My fingers are tracing lines between the goose bumps all over her body as I begin kissing my way down. As I cross her belly, her back arches and she lifts her head then locks me in her stare again.
Every quake of her body throws me deeper and deeper into trance. The intertwined moans and grunts, calling like a beacon leading me to safety. For a second, the sounds stop, time stops and her body tenses. Then her cry cuts through me and for a brief moment I am aware of the rhythm of the music and the noise of the bar. Her eyes open, and I am lost again as I draw up to her, kiss her again and join her.
The music breaks in as the bass melds us into one body, one soul, one rhythm…

It feels good to be back home again. That familiar smell of sulfur from the lake, Clorox sprayed in the bathrooms, stale cigarettes, and spilled beer brings a strange sense of comfort.
B is helping me out tonight while sh has the some remodeling done to the barge. Feel like old times with her behind the bar.
Should be an interesting evening. Some of he regulars are visiting us over ehre for the first time. I wonder if she warned them ho risqué this place gets. Guess we will find out soon.
HE and I sit in the office as I recount my visit to the barge for HIM. For some reason most of my memory of that night revolves around that lady. Her presence was like no lady I had ever met. I never got her name that night, but I’m confident we will meet again soon.
Things are already getting interesting. Diane and Marie have started their competition. Recently they decided to see which of them could get more guys to buy them drinks. Tonight, however, they seem to have added a twist. I might have to go out of the office and watch this. They are hitting on women. Their skills are honed and by the time I make it to the bar, each of them have three women around them in what looks like some form of “Survivor: nightclub edition.” Each girl is competing for the attention of their prospective conquest.
Before the heads even turn, I feel her. She walks into my bar with the same air that carried her onto the barge.
Whatever game Diane and Marie were playing is now over. Every eye in the place is desperately trying to find something to glance at so as to not get caught staring.
B hands me a cinnamon martini and nods at her. The hint is not wasted on me. Drink in hand, I push my way through the crowd to where she stands, talking to her long lost strangers about matters you could never guess bored her.
“I believe this is yours,” I said as I handed her her drink.
“Thank you, David,” she replied, though we had never been introduced.
“Nice,” I answered, “and you are?”
“Rach,” she said in a way that mad me feel I had known her for years.
Curiosity as killing me; I had to know more about her, but not yet.
“I will let you get back to your friends. Talk to you soon.” I said as I forced myself away.
I couldn’t make out her reply as I walked away, but I cold feel her eyes on me. Hell I could feel every eye in the bar on me as I stepped behind the bar.
The bar is busy now, so I give B a hand with a few orders. The electricity is flowing. It is definitely going to b one of those nights that make me love this place so much.
The dark corners are conducive to drawing out the bohemian in even the most straight laced.
Diane and Marie have now ditched their entourage, having gotten more than enough free drinks, and are making out with this Trent Reznor look alike. Diane wastes no time slipping her hands down his pants as Marie caresses his chest. He feigns embarrassment, to who’s benefit, I have no clue.
B has even gotten back into the spirit, removing her top to reveal her stomach laced corset piercings. The wounds are fresh and the droplets of blood under each piercing merely glimmer off the black lace.
“Man I hope I remembered to turn on the cameras,” I think to myself as I realize that this may be too much even for a voyeur such as I to take in all at once.
From behind the bar it appears that Diane has disappeared, but I can tell from the smile on Trent and Marie’s faces that he hasn’t gone far.
I grab a shot of patron as my heart pounds with all of the excitement my customers now enjoy.
As I put my empty shot glass in the sink, I notice a pair of panties on the corner of the bar. Denise is here somewhere. I spot her husband first. I follow his gaze, expecting to see her at their usual game, but his eye are locked with Marie’s and the veiled smile on her face lets me know where Diane is focusing her attention at the moment.
These nights never cease to hold new surprises, even for me.
A hand reaches over my shoulder and down my shirt as another reaches around and unbuckles my belt. I don’t have to turn around. I found Denise, or she found me.
I look up at one of my cameras and smile…

Well the crowd started showing up around 8pm last night. I have no idea how the word spread so well, but it wasn't until 11pm that I had somebody show up in clothes.

This couple showed up in full club attire. The line was almost all the way around the building by the time they got here. They didn't seem to be alarmed at all by the fact that they were the only ones clothed. I watched them as they inched their way around the building on the camera in my office. At first she was clutching to his arm staring intently at the back of the person in front of them's head. He was the first to start letting his eyes wonder. His head would fall slightly, and his eyes would dart around the crowd. He would notice somebody look at him and his glance would return to the blonde hair of the guy in front of him. She was less subtle when she gave in. She watched this couple move to the back of the line and actually turned her head to follow them as they walked past. As she watched the different people her hands began to caress her lover's arm. It is always fun to watch confusion give way to lust.

When they approached the door, they asked my door girl, "What is going on tonight?"

K responded, "D is having her birthday party up here and has asked that no clothing be allowed. Of course, as shy as we all are, she really had to twist our arm."

"So nobody will be wearing any clothes?"

"You got it." K said as the couple began stripping right there.

"You can wait to get undressed until you get inside if you want. We have lockers in the restrooms."

It was too late, once you start peeling off latex, it is a real pain to get it back on.

D and Jason showed up promptly at midnight. She was blindfolded but other than that had nothing but slippers on. Jason was guiding her through the door, trying to keep her moving towards my bar. I say trying because everybody and their brother was stopping them to wish her happy birthday.

Across the bar, there was a young man that I had never seen before just staring at her. He followed her every move with his eyes. I would say he was undressing her with his eyes, but he seemed way to comfortable with her nudity to need to do that. There was definitely lust there, in his gaze, but more than that. There was familiarity.

As she reached the, Jason removed her blindfold, and the roar of "Happy Birthday," seemed to echo from the very bowels of the lake beneath us. Her eyes were sparkling as she took in the scene around her. I had not known that nobody told her the party was naked only. It was apparent in her eyes that she was just now learning that fact.

The crowd around her thickened into one large heap of human flesh as everybody took turns groping her and wishing her a happy birthday. Those waiting to get to her settled for groping those closest to them as the wave of flesh rotated until all had had their chance to show their friendship to her. All but the stranger that is, he just sat and stared, Well sat, massaged himself a little, and stared that is.

This is where the night got interesting…

Well, I’m sorry I haven’t updated yall in a while. A lot has been going on. With the uber-success of the first bar, I have decided to open a second location.

We opened the Bar On the Lake what seems like an eternity ago, pun intended. Things there were always entertaining, but my dream was always to have a floating bar, so I procured a barge (don’t ask how, just remember I didn’t make it to hell for my charm). For the past few weeks we have been turning this barge into what will prove to be the happeningest hot spot on either side of the Rive Styx. For that matter on the River itself, since that is where we will be floating come our opening night this Friday.

We had a trial run opening last night. For those of you who haven’t served your time in the service industry, most restaurants and bars do a private opening that is invitation only before the big public opening.

I decided to go cheesy with the Opening and actually had Dennis DeYoung and Styx come play the opening night (yes I know they aren’t dead yet, but I pulled a few strings). So here we are launching out down the river Styx to Come Sail Away.

Everything went off without a hitch. Yah I now that makes for dull story telling, but it also makes for less grey hairs and given the choice, I prefer to experience dull stories when I’m in charge.

Anyways, flashing back a little, setting up over the past few weeks has been interesting to say the least. I guess my oldest and best customer ahs been bored off his ass because he spent just about every moment working on t4he barge with me.

As we were getting ready to open, The Man and I started talking.

“So how do you think the world is doing after these few weeks without you up there?”

“This again? I thought that you realized they don’t need me anymore.”

“That is for the standard SNAFUs, but don’t you still enjoy putting your hand in major things?”

“The few major things that I put my hand in were started rolling a century ago. Now I just get my rocks off on sheet rocking.”

“Well that is good because I sure cant do that crap. Think it will be a good night?”

“How the fuck should I know… running these places is your area, not mine.”

“What exactly is your area now that you don’t have to spread evil?”

“I just told you! Sheet rocking!”

As the confusion over the Man’s wasted talent was just taking full hold on my being, my employees began showing up. Guess I will have to ponder why the Prince of Darkness is so infatuated with plaster some other day.

Well the remodeling is complete and we are open for business again.
We added torture deck for the truly sadistic bastards. This deck overlooks the lake of fire. (For those of you that remember where the old bay windows were, they are now glass doors leading to the deck). From this deck people can grab buckets of water and pour them over to the attorneys and politicians that are writhing and burning below. The deck is just high enough for the water to turn to steam just before it reaches the wailing mouths of the eternally thirsty. It is beauty in motion to see them almost smile through their pain as the water leaves the bucket, only to watch that smile evaporate in synchronization with the water.

Last night was our first night open. The crowd was exceptionally early. I guess we were missed after all. Yes I am still insecure even in the afterlife. I constantly wonder if people really like my club or just come because it is convenient.

I never really announced the closing for remodeling, so a few of the old regulars were pissed off. It is amazing how fast tequila can cure that. Within an hour of opening, the time off had been erased and the masses were mingling as though they had all been here the night before.

At the end of the bar sat the only regular to never miss a day even while we were closed. I shouldn’t be surprised by that since he has taken me on as his regular therapist, chatting away about all the woes of the world and how the world still blames him for every last one of them. This night was no different, except for the clockwork interruptions of the paying masses. I am convinced that he really thinks of the bar as intrusion into his personal time on my couch.

Sitting at the other end of the bar last night was a face I had remembered vaguely from my living days, but could not place. He was obviously a recent arrival into our beloved Hell. You can always tell the newbies by the look of shock at the lack of torture for the majority of us in Hell. Several times during the night he would ask me questions about how long I have been here and other things that I had no way of answering. It is hard to explain time when you first arrive, but that is a tirade for a different blog. He was a very young and handsome man, though all of us looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. A flock of my usual ladies spotted him and every now and then one of the vultures would swoop in to try to capture the meat, but this prey was adept at dodging the predators. Maybe too adept… gay perhaps? No, probably just in culture shock. None of the gay men were chasing him, and I trust their GADAR a lot better than my own.

Well all in all it was a pretty uneventful night, but I am quite sure that Friday will bring tales…