chrisdudgeon

The Club

The club is the place to be,

The club is the only place I know.

People dancing,

People drinking,

People being people.

The music starts,

And the dance floor fills.

The music is like a drug,

All the people getting high on it,

And letting its intoxicating effects,

Take control of them.

More people arrive on the dance floor,

Pressing all of us even closer together.

The smell of alcohol breath and stale sweat,

Drive all of us crazy.

The smells activate the hormones,

Which brings on everybody’s libido,

Until we cannot wait anymore.

The most experienced of us start by flirting,

Then once everyone notices what we’re doing,

It starts.

The joining of two beings,

Three,

Four,

And more joining by the second.

We all have the same disease,

The lust for each other,

Consuming us.

Then comes the song,

The song to end all songs.

It drives us to strip each other,

And caress each other.

The orgy has begun.

This is the norm at the club,

And the first timers gasp.

Their faces contorted in shock,

Start to leave.

But they are stopped,

Stopped by the Sirens song.

We are unaffected,

For we are the same.

The same as the Siren.

The newbies are trapped,

Powerless against her song.

She calls to them,

Draws them towards her,

And us.

We are now gripped by the bloodlust,

Our bodies are the masters now,

Our brains still under the influence,

Of the hormonal high.

We await them,

To make them,

One of us.