Our escapade at Alcatraz left Calli and I with a dilemma, hang around on the rock until the police show up and start asking awkward questions or figure out a way to get out of here and get me patched up, there is still a ragged wound in my chest where our spectral friend punched a hole in me, It's unlikely to kill me but a bad wound could leave me incapacitated for weeks or months if left untreated.
People in the room are starting to come to the grim realisation that the debacle that played out in front of them was not part of some elaborate entertainment, Jorg and Kelly are trying to keep everyone calm but a few of the guests with clout are starting to complain. I recognise one such dissenter as Jem Randall, he is the CEO of a local software house and made a fortune selling the lions share of his company in the dotcom boom about 10 years ago, I pull the tatters of my jacket closer to my chest and sidle up close, it’s easy to surprise people into looking you in the eye if you catch them unawares. As soon as his eyes meet mine I throw what power I can muster over him “Jem, hi, so long since I saw you, how is life in the fast lane” he is unsure for a moment but I’m pushing thoughts into his head, you know this guy, his names, Will, maybe you used to play racquetball..... He shakes his head to clear it, “Heeey Will, great to see you man, damn what a bomb this turned out to be huh?” it’s at this point thatCalli turns up alongside me, he is wowed, can’t take his eyes off of her “Will, why don’t you introduce me to your handsome friend” spoken in a heart melting languid drawl, I can feel the hackles of Jem’s date rising on the back of her neck, but that will avail her nothing.
“Jem and I were just discussing how we should get out of here before things get any messier, weren’t we Jem? Did you asy that you had a boat on call in the harbour?” He looks confused for a second but no longer than that and then he is pulling a miniscule cell from his jacket and calling up his captain, although the ferry we came across on was fast it is no match for his cruiser, we barely make it down to the jetty before the boat is there waiting for us, Calli and I ensuring that no one is around to bar our escape.
Back on the mainland Calli and I vanish into the dark, better to travel on foot and via the shadows, no taxi drivers to remember us or cars caught on cctv that might lead to a manhunt down the line, I’m barely able to walk by the time we get back to her bolt hole, which is a closer option than any of the places I have around the city.
Inside I find myself staggering, arm around Calli's shoulder as she half carries me to a long low couch, I’m always pale but now I am now ashen grey, my lips usually crimson have turned blue and my breathing as shallow. The ragged wound is burning like fire, it didn’t hurt this much when the creeps hand was in my chest, Calli is looking concerned as she pulls her phone out and starts dialling, looks down at me and mouths the words “the doc”.
Of course he’s not a real dr, he seems to have been around forever but as far as I know or can tell he’s not even one of the undead, he certainly knows all about us though, what makes us tick and can usually be persuaded to patch up anyone who needs it for the offer of unspecified favours down the line.
Calli sits by me as we wait for him to arrive, her arm tight around me, cradling my head into her chest, is more of a comfort than she realises or than I would ever acknowledge, the pain is unbearable, I’m having to stifle sobs which is never a good look, particularly in a vampire lord.
It must be an hour before the knock at the door that I’ve been begging for comes, Calli has been trying to distract me by showering me with kisses, some slow, soft and gentle, some urgent and passionate, her lips are like velvet upon mine, her tongue tastes like honey, she breathes life and energy into me, without her kiss I fell I would have slipped into the void.
I open my eyes to a sharp adjunt to the pain I have been experiencing, the dr is leaning over me, his fingers probing the wound mercilessly. “Will, Will what nonsense this time eh” Don’t ask me to place his accent, part Slavic part Norse maybe, whatever. Calli is running him through the events of the night, interspersed with tuts and ahhhhs before he makes his pronouncement “obviously this thing was some sort of shade, no doubt the tormented sould of one of the inmates there eh, but there is something older and darker here too, something beyond any sort of evil that you could be branded” I gasp as his fingers drill deeper into my core, a wave of cold dread rushes through me, I know know whether to pass out or throw up before he draws them out. “what is clear to me is that this wound is tainted, I can clean it, have to really or you are lost to us, it will eat through you like a cancer, destroying you, turning you into a mindless vessel for that creature to pass back through the veil to this world. I am afraid that you might find the cure worse than that though... I will need to bathe the wound with holy water, it will be acid to you, will scar, and then we will need other treatments. You can stay here yes? Calli can be your nursemaid yes?”
My mind is reeling, he means to wash this gaping hole in my chest out with holy water? It’s poison to vampires, don’t know if I can take that... But he is pulling open his bag, and pulling out a vial, Calli looks like I feel, worried beyond belief, but the alternative, to be taken by that thing, to become that dark, controlled by some malignant force for eternity, I grit my teeth “Do it doc” I close my eyes and squeeze Calli's hand tight in mine, she is my anchor, if anything can get me through this ordeal it will be the comfort of her touch.
WAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH! Ok I’m screaming, I’m crying, I’m wailing like a baby, nothing has ever coursed through me like this, I feel like I’m being eaten from the inside out, trying trying to hold still as he administers drop by drop of pure pain into my chest cavity. “Calli, if I don’t make it through this, I don’t want you to go on without me, take your own life” She looks at me in shock and see’s my grim smile and the wicked wink that somehow I manage to force through the agony. “Not really babe, you knock em dead” I think it’s at that point I pass out, unable to cope with it anymore, sweet release.
I come to with the doc and Calli talking, he is handing her a few vials of blood and a sprig of some herb, he makes for the door but turns to review his work “This is good Will, you’ll pull through I think, reason enough to go on eh, bear in mind that you owe me big for this one” I manage a rueful smile at him as he pulls the door behind him.
Calli sashay’s over to me then “Lucky lucky boy, 6 vials of pure virgin and a sprig of belladonna, and such a beautiful nursemaid to administer them too” You are going to have to stay here for a week or two, but I think I can put up with you until then”
My chest is still raw but I see the hole has been stitched shut with some kind of wire, it shimmers silver in the light but as it’s not causing my flesh to spit and burn I assume it must be platinum, Calli pops the cork on one of the vials, dabs a little at the wound and then runs her bloody fingers over my lips, my tongue flicking out to extract the last couple of drops as she makes to withdraw it.
“Hmmm you can’t be feeling that bad then” she smiles at me and leans in to plant the sexiest kiss on my mouth, managing to get just a taste of the blood she planted there seconds before.
Her hand strays down across the wound, across my stomach, lingers briefly “I think the best thing is if I get you out of these clothes and into something a little more accessible, don’t you” My jacket and t-shirt are already gone, so she can only be talking about my trousers, gingerly I arch my back raising my hips from the couch, easing her task of sliding them down over my thighs..
Her lips are at the tight raw wound at my chest, working the blood into tight seam that the stitches have created, one hand against my chest holding me down as the other brushes through my hair. Mmmm you always taste good, but tonight you are delicious” I can see that the blood is exciting her, that this close brush with mortality is spurring both her and I on, too much to lose, the price to great to pay.
She knows I am still to weak to push her off and am never likely to complain, I weigh the situation up in my mind, what better way to take my mind off of my plight surely? “Uhmm Calli, you will be gentle with me won’t you” I feel like a prize cock even as the words spill from my mouth but as she turns to smile at me see the concern deep in her eyes, hidden behind the tough facade that she likes to present to the world.
She stands now and lets her dress slip from her shoulders, oh god she is beautiful, her pale, perfect skin, breasts heaving slightly as she breathes, I know I would die to please her. She steps towards me, pressing her finger to my lips, brushing aside any cares or concerns, she helps me to sit up as she throws her leg over mine, sitting astride me, her face in my chest, lips kissing my ravaged chest.
I feel her hands firm and direct beneath her, above me, she wraps one around me now and immediately coaxes me to life, I can feel her other hand above me manoeuvring herself as she slowly brings her body down, I can feel her buttocks against my thighs, can feel the raging heat as her lips part around my engorged head. I gasp as I feel her surround me, slide slowly down my length.
Our lips meet now her face turned up to mine, our tongues flicking each over the other as gently, gently she rocks so slowly forward and back, raising her hips mere inches and then letting them drop so slowly back down until she can be no closer to me, I no deeper within her, I would close my eyes as she moves on me but cannot, will not tear my gaze from hers, Her focus, her love is sustaining my weakened body as she moves so perfectly upon me.
She maintains her rhythm, feels me swell further within her at each movement. I can barely maintain consciousness as my beloved carries me forward, I feel her breath, draw that into me, my arms wrapped tight around her, fingers digging deep into her back. My breath shudders, she feels me come, surging waves deep within her, is lost at that moment in her own pleasure but still her eyes hold mine, locked into me, sharing every moment giving of herself so absolutely.
I collapse into her chest now, still gripping her tight, willing her to hold me too, willing her to stay there locked tightly into me, I draw strength from the soft yielding warmth of her breasts on my face, am rambling wildly about my undying, everlasting love for her, she has captured me completely and I am hers forever.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
The Masquerade Ball
Wrote this one for halloween but only just finished re editing!
Time to play at being human, its fun once in a while and the Halloween season is the perfect opportunity. One of my favoured few has come up trumps, acquired me two tickets to a society bash that is being held on Alcatraz tonight, a charity masquerade ball. All the attendees will be splashing their cash around in aid of childhood leukaemia, I could be blasé about that but there are still shreds of humanity in me somewhere and if shindigs like this can help to alleviate suffering then well and good.
What mashes my brain though is the high and mighty who think that coming along to a drunken revel and throwing their money around allows them to behave like prize a-holes day to day. I’m not saying that everyone from “society” is like that, but I’ve met plenty of them that are, maybe tonight I can scare a few extra charity $ out of them without having to use tax breaks as an incentive.
First things first, who to take and what to wear? The first question is really a no brainer, Calli is my first and last choice, assuming that she doesn’t turn me down flat. It’s fair to say that we have been spending too much time with each other the last couple of weeks, but I haven’t been this smitten since I turned, having her around reminds me what it was to be human, passion, lust, dare I think of love? It’s opening me up for a lot of hurt down the line, but right now nothing else matters to me but her.
Mobile telephony is an amazing thing, signal is 3 bars strong in my coffin, I bark her name and hear my phone dialling her number, two rings and she picks up, her voice is alert, sultry, as always my heart quickens at the sound of it “Hey babe what do I need to know?” I steady my voice to reply, best to at least sound in control right? “Hi gorgeous, if you are up for putting on your party frock tonight I’ve got a couple of tickets to the ball in the bay, you fancy it?”
She barely hesitates, which serves to still my fluttering heart “Sure, meet you at the pier, what time does our boat leave?” the thought of the boat terrifies me, I’m sure she knows it too, most of us have trouble with running water, me I have trouble with water period, but the short crossing across the bay should be easy, I know, I’m just trying to reassure myself! “It leaves at 9, so lets say 8-45, oh and it’s masquerade, so masks are mandatory ok.” She’s already hanging up with just a parting “Mwuah” down the line, I imagine her lips forming the shape and don’t try to stop the lascivious smile that starts creeping across my face
Ok, now that I’ve got the hottest date in town I need to dress to kill, the invites say evening wear but the masquerade status will allow me to stretch the boundaries a bit, choices, choices… The first thing that springs to mind is my formal black suit, on the surface it looks perfectly respectable, mandarin collar riding high up my neck means I can get away without a tie, tight white t-shirt hidden underneath will have all the flustered females trying to cop a feel of a bicep or a pec as the evening wears on, I grin at that thought, wondering briefly how Calli and all the men present will react if I let the mesmer cast it’s spell over all of the female party goers?
I’ll need a mask too of course, the obvious choice is the wide leather eye mask, it covers my face from my eye brows down to the tops of my cheeks with a sharp V of leather covering all but the bottom of my nose. It will serve to be slightly more menacing than the harlequin affairs that most people will be wearing.
Finally I need to think about hair and decoration, sometimes I think I’m worse than a woman the way I fret over my appearance but I do so love to make an entrance! I slick down my giveaway fair locks and rifle through a selection of wigs, I could of course just use the mesmer to make myself appear as pretty much anything or anyone I choose, but Calli is the one I’m trying to impress and I have to concentrate hard for glamours to have any effect on her at all, far easier to use traditional methods. The wig I select is short and dark, flecked with silver at the temples to add a bit of age and distinction, ha if only people knew how old I really am!
The finishing touch will be some body art, for that I need a minion and I know just the guy, he will have to come to me if I want it done before full dark but he is very much under my spell, I call him to mind, brining him into sharp focus, concentrating on his features, the way he walks, the way his lips move as he talks, breathing in the way he smells and finally concentrating on the way his eyes swam and then glazed over the first time he looked directly into mine. Suddenly I am looking through those eyes, seeing what he is seeing, hearing what he hears, I let my voice boom through his mind “Neil, come to me, I need your talents, come and earn my pleasure” it pleases me that he doesn’t even try to resist, no struggle against the mental command, I feel a smile flick across his lips and hear words spill from his mouth. “Sorry guys, I just remembered somewhere I have to be urgently” He stands up and starts packing the tools of his trade into a holdall as I let my hold on his mind diminish…
Neil is an excellent body artist, usually employed by the film industry or corporations for promotional work, I was lucky enough to bump into him when I was down in New Orleans for Mardi Gras a couple of years ago, not as much fun as it used to be but a great place to meet the right sort of people. He comes from the UK originally but at my behest has settled more or less full time on the West Coast now, my contacts mean he gets plenty of work in the film industry, his talents are useful to me and the fact that he utterly adores me makes control of him that much easier.
I know it will take him about an hour to get to me so time to tidy myself up in a hot deep bath.. What! Vampires aren’t allowed to immerse themselves in hot water now? Not allowed to anoint our bodies with fragrant oils and to lay back, glowing faintly amidst the steamy air? I’ll admit I don’t do showers, I consider them to be “running”, whilst a bath has simply been “run” yeah I know, it’s weak but I think most of our frailties are based on belief, some sort of voodoo nonsense, that if we think it’s true then it has power over us.
I lay there stewing slightly, enjoying the sensation of running my hands over my body, the light film of oil from the water easing their passage. I tense and then relax my muscles as my hands pass, probing my fingers into any knots that linger. As a race we have a supreme amount of control over how our bodies appear to others, either using glamours and illusions to mask imperfections or effect disguises, or if we really put our minds to it, can by force of will change the actual underlying physical attribute, increasing muscle mass here, stretch a limb or straighten a tooth there. How else do you imagine that most of us manage to appear so beautiful, no trick of fate there I think you’ll find.
The one thing that I seem to have no control over is as it would be for all males, mortal and vampires alike, as my hands run across my skin I find my mind wandering, my eyes close and in my imagination the hands on my body are Calli’s not my own. I feel the rush of blood that I cannot control, a surge causing me to swell, I allow my hands to wander there with my mind, grasping the heft of my cock as it grows, slowly, methodically stroking myself until fully erect. My hands are Calli’s hands now, is she in my head? Controlling me as easily as I dominate those who have looked into my eyes, or am I simply wishing she were. There is no urgency to my movements, no desire to speed myself to orgasm, just a slow, luxuriant pleasure in this fantasy. It is only hearing the front door overhead scrape open that shakes me from my revelry…
I leap from the tub, if tub is what you could call it, a long marble trough that sits in the middle of the large basement room, very decadent, but I do like my pleasures, my skin is aglow from the heat of the water and the light sheen of oil still clinging to it. I'm instantly alert, it's only been about 20 minutes since I spoke to Neil, surely he couldn't be here yet, but the door opening doesn't sound forced.
I move silently across the room to hug the shadows at the base of the stairs, the way the doors are aligned at the top mean that the first has to shut before the second can be opened, ensuring that no daylight, however weak at this time of year will spill down into my lair. Slowly the inner door creaks open, and a stocky figure starts padding down the stairs, Neil! I let myself relax and move back to the centre of the room.
“Dressed to impress I see” Neil tries hard not to let camp creep into his voice, but he just can't help himself sometimes “You took your time” I counter, with a hint of humour in my voice “Seeing as you are here why don't you make yourself useful and clean me off” I toss him my prized antique bronze scraper, the dealer who sold it to me swore blind that it had seen use as far back as ancient Rome, I like to think that in the past it was used to scrape the gladiators clean before they entered the arena, but it probably belonged to some tubby merchant who insisted on his nubile young slaves giving him a rub down.
Neil goes to work a little too eagerly, humming tunelessly as he scrapes the oil from my skin, leaving it feelings slightly raw, dry and tingling. “So what do you have in mind art-wise? Halloween party I'm guessing” I'd given it a bit of thought, but know full well that he is the creative one “I was considering something a bit George Clooney, dusk till dawn, tattoo coming up from the left wrist to just peep out over the collar of my jacket on my neck, what do you think?” he takes a step back and tries to picture something, or maybe he is just admiring my still naked form.
Eventually he speaks “OK, the tribal tat that GC had was pretty bland, I'm thinking crows, so either we do a Celtic knot-work crow and crane wending up around your arm, those two together represent the eternal struggle between good and evil, which is nice... or my other idea is to have one big crow made up of a murder of smaller ones, flying up your arm, wings spreading out over your shoulder with it's head coming up your neck, beak pecking at a couple of little puncture wounds just under your jawline” Now you can see why I love Neil, the guy is a genius, I just nod dumbly for a couple of seconds before I realise he is waiting for me to tell him what I want “Yep, the murder sounds perfect Neil”
Without hesitation he sets to work, base layers on first with a sponge, then detail work with an airbrush, it takes him over an hour from start to finish but the result was well worth standing naked in my basement for, by the time he is done you couldn't tell that it's not a real tattoo, the paints he uses shouldn't wear off for a couple of days so all I need to do now is pull my clothes on. I give Neil a hug by way of thank you, of course I cannot resist driving my fangs into his neck, draining just a mouthful of blood, just an appetiser for the night ahead, as I drink his breathing quickens and he stiffens in my arms, some boys just love to be dominated...
After Neil has departed I get myself together, and head for the bay, I'm about 20 minutes brisk walk away, I could call for a car but the walk will heighten my sense of anticipation of the evening ahead and will allow me to enjoy a slow approach, useful to weigh up the situation.
My timing is good, it's about ten minutes to nine as I hit the jetty, a crowd is milling about the gangplank leading on to a sleek looking ferry, their warm breath clouding the air around them in the half light provided by the stars and the occasional lamppost. Within seconds my eyes alight upon her and try as I might I cannot tear them away, now I notice that the gaze of most of the other men waiting for the boat are having the same issue, a 'cat who got the cream' grin spreads cheekily across my face at the thought that my date is the one that every man there wishes were his tonight.
I stop in my tracks to savour her a moment longer, tonight she is dressed for pleasure, not purpose and judging by the smile on her deep red lips Calli is enjoying the effect that her appearance is having on the crowd. She is wearing a full length, strapless evening gown, deep red velvet or at least I think so from this distance, it hugs her figure perfectly, accentuating the feminine hourglass that she presents without exaggerating it. Her shoulders and neck are invitingly bare, her hair must be pinned up, is piled the right word? It's rare that I get to feast my eyes on the back of her neck and I find it deeply sexual and arousing, an area that is usually covered by her flowing hair, laid bare, revealed, like a guilty secret..
The dress sweeps down beautifully to her ankles, I can just make out sharply pointed heels but there is no hint of discomfort or difficulty walking as she gracefully saunters amongst the crowd, is that her vampiric balance or just a womanly trait I wonder?
I stride purposefully along the jetty now, trying hard not to obviously enjoy the moment that I close with her, slip my arm through hers and allow my lips to brush her cheek, just below the tiny domino mask that can only be held on by glue or force of will “You look.... amazing” the pause was not for effect, for once I truly was at a loss how to describe, even amazing doesn't feel like it is doing her justice, truly I am in awe of this beautiful creature.
“You are looking pretty good yourself” she delivers her line dead pan, but I can feel her eyes lingering here and there, boring into me, a feeling that I could grow accustomed to. “Onward then beautiful Calli, an evening of mischief and mayhem awaits us on the rock” I steer us toward the waiting boat, gripping her arm slightly more firmly as we step across the gangplank and find our seats aboard.
The boat trip is mercifully short, the cabin packed as it is with part goers. The temptation to cut loose and start feeding upon them is immense, causing me the shiver with anticipation, nowhere for them to run, their screams inciting panic throughout the craft. I shake my head to clear it of the fantasy, Calli’s eyes are boring into me, as if she can sense my thoughts, her hand is resting on my forearm, ready to restrain me if need be, we are here to party, pretend to be human for just one night.
The mixture of costumes catches my attention, perhaps 50% have gone for the safe evening wear option, penguin suits and posh frocks, the rest are an assortment of fancy dress, werewolves, ghouls, Frankenstein’s monster and of course plenty of vampires, most are professionally made, expensively acquired for tonight’s revels, our hosts for the evening introduce themselves as the boat pulls alongside the dock
“Hi I’m Kelly and this is Jorg, first of all a big thank you for making it tonight, may I say how fabulous you are all looking” This delivered in that slightly smarmy PR manner that only a person employed for their perfect bone structure seems to manage. “Tonight’s festivities will be taking place in the largest of the buildings on the island, the main cell block, we ask that for your own safety you only visit the other buildings or outer areas with one of our organised events” Jorg takes over now, it would be easiest to describe him as a viking, long blonde hair, about 6’3” tall with the sort of shoulders designed to swing a big axe “The rock is a safe place as long as we treat it sensible ok, everyone is here to have a good time, so leave your wellbeing to us, but please just do as we say at all times. As we dock there is a short but steep walk up to the main building, equivalent to say climbing the stairs in a 13 story block, if you don’t feel able to make that then there are limited spaces in transports but we’d love you to join our torchlight procession, which will look amazing from back on shore”
I don’t doubt what he says, 250 flaming torches wending their way up the hill will look like a huge flaming snake in the distance, they hand each of us a stick, made from some kind of rough cloth that has been dipped in wax, as we step onto the shore, up ahead there is a guttering brazier that people are pausing to light their torches in before a smiling photographer gets couples to pose for mug shots as they walk through the stout gate that leads to the prison compound beyond. We patiently wait our turn, using all of our senses to scan the night, the sea air is chill and a few people in the crowd are muttering about getting a move on but I love the sharp slap of the wind against my skin, causing it to prickle and burn. Suddenly it is our turn, the photographer looks up to frame the shot and his jaw drops slightly, it is a joy to see him visibly staggered by our overwhelming beauty, we are forcing the issue by surrounding ourselves with glamours, so much so that it must be almost painful for him to look directly at us. After a couple of seconds he shakes his head slightly as he realises he is staring, Calli smiles widely at him now, capturing him completely “Anyway you want us sweetie?” his cheeks reddens as all sorts of things must shoot through his mind “uh, uhm, just er stand against the wall there please” we back up, Calli leans casually back against the wall and produces two cigarettes from somewhere, placing them between her lips and lighting them from her torch in one fluid movement, she inhales in one deep smooth breath that seems to stretch on for minutes before lowering her hands, leaving the glowing brands clenched between her teeth, fangs bared.
I reach across and pluck one lightly from her mouth before placing it in my own, the first taste is her, before I breathe deep and let the smoke fill my lungs, let the rush fly through my head to be replaced by that mellow fuzzy, first smoke of the day glow.
Our happy snapper starts clicking away, doesn’t seem to want to stop at the obligatory three or four shots, eventually we tire of posing for him and move on through the gate, leaving the queue behind us wondering quite what just happened. As we stride up the hill we can hear jangling guitar music, dis-concordant strains, it is hard to make out but as we move towards the open double doors it is clearly a tribute band doing a very passable cover of Passion of Lovers, we pause at the threshold, taking a moment to extinguish our cigarettes and dispose of our torches, I turn to embrace Calli, delivering a languidly slow kiss upon her upturned lips, looking deep into her eyes. Eventually one of our hosts comes to the door and asks if we won’t come in, thus invited we enter the party..
From the outside this place is dour and imposing, the buildings are crumbling, beaten down by the relentless exposure to the elements, inside I was expecting it to be much the same but the place has been transformed, presumably for the party, it’s all cosmetic of course but the impact is impressive.
We get led through an ante chamber and into what must have been the main chamber; a long corridor runs down the center of the room, walls of cells towering up above us each side with metal gantries looming overhead, long bench tables have been laid down the middle of the free space, groaning under the weight of food and decoration spread across them. A wooden dance floor has been laid in the middle of the span of tables with spotlights focussed from guard points on the gantry. The band appear to be situated in individual cells on the 3rd level at the end of the room, banks of coffin shaped speakers filling the cells on that wall and scattered throughout the chamber at random
The décor is deliciously dark, purple velvet draped everywhere, coffins, corpses swinging, hanging from the ceiling high overhead, jack o lanterns provide a shadowy malignant light. There are entertainers mingling amongst the guests, ghoulish jugglers tossing severed limbs or bloody axes, svelte zombie dancers, all of the serving staff are goblinesque, crouched and subservient, running drinks and plates of food to expectant revellers. The band are still bashing out Bahaus covers and doing a decent job of it, I’m not sure that the music is to everyone’s liking but Calli and I are all over it, she drags me to the floor and we are soon swaying around infused with true gothic angst, more than happy to be the focus of everyone’s attention, beautiful and stylish enough to carry it off. One of the countless benefits of being undead is no fear, no fear of failure, no fear of being ridiculed, just a suffusion of confidence, which is all you really need to carry anything off dead or alive, do everything with style and people will envy and love you for it in equal measure.
The evening is going to plan; Calli and I split up occasionally to put ourselves about amongst the crowd, they can’t help but fall under our spell, anyone who dares to makes eye contact with me is struck with the cold dread that they are in over their depth, knowing with grim certainty that it is already too late, they are mine. Chances are if they wake up in the morning with twin puncture wounds in their neck they’ll just think that some amorous wannabe vamp got over excited with the plastic fangs they were wearing. This is the perfect opportunity to drink our fill without draining people dry; it’s also a great chance to put some people with influence in the city into our thrall with little real effort.
I am tiring rapidly of the fawning attention of the 2 lithe dancers that I seem to have acquired; people might think that to be the object of desire of such beautiful creatures would be fabulous, but I know that it’s not truly me that they want, it’s the aura of power that radiates outward that they are drawn to, helpless as moths flitting about a naked light bulb, the only person that I’m truly interested in is the one that has free will where loving me is concerned, I persuade my zombie’s that they want to go and gyrate around a slightly anxious looking guest whilst I start scanning the crowd for my beloved.
It only takes me moments to conclude that she isn’t in the main hall, scanning the gantries above me I sense her more than see her, feel her dark shadow disappear into one of the cells at in the dim distance high above. Not wanting to waste time walking the length of the room to climb the stairs I bunch my legs beneath me and launch at the gantry above me, I leap from level to level like this, silently and with a minimum of effort, pulling myself up over the barrier surrounding the level and vaulting quietly to the walkway that runs along the outside of the dingy cells, each of these rooms can be little more than 6 x 8, many of the barred doors are pulled shut, presumably to deter revellers from using these more secluded chambers for anything untoward, the organisers could probably do without headlines "Society Dilettante' knocked up in machine gun Kelly's cell", but at the far end of the gantry I can make out Calli's silhouette standing in the doorway. I move forward but each step suddenly feels leaden, a cold dread seeps out of that open cell toward me, an almost physical entity pushing me backward, filling me with an unknown, unseen terror. I can see now as I force myself on, that her hands are gripped tight around bars to her sides, it is taking every ounce of resolve that she possesses not to turn and flee toward me, the same resolve that I am trying to summon just to continue toward her.
For what seems like an eternity this internal struggle goes on, it can take me no more than 30 slow slow seconds to cross the distance in reality but wherever I am now it does not feel like reality, as I step forward and push my arm around her waist I am transported, suddenly the prison is filled with light, with the stench of hundreds of men living day to day in these insanitary holes in the rock, There is little sound, no conversation, just the clattering of boots along the gantry as a guard clad in a stiff woollen uniform walks close behind the two of us, seeming to ignore our presence. The cell before us is inhabited now, a man, if you can call him that is squatting on the bed, staring intently at us, his features are demonic, twisted, tormented, his eyes an impenetrable black. Somewhere in the distance I hear the faintest chords crying to me through the ether, slow deliberate bass, repetitive drumbeats, and underneath it strains of jangling guitar, "The bats have left the bell tower, The victims have been bled, Red velvet lines the black box, Bela Lugosi's dead, Undead undead undead" the lyrics seem to be coming from another world but they are spilling out of that evil fanged mouth, smiling wide and wicked at us now, almost hungrily.
"You two are a long long way from home, shouldn't be here, not tonight, tonight is my feast, they have woken me, given me a taste for life again, I will eat them all, feed on their souls" I don't know what this thing is, this shade, don't know who he was or what he did, but he radiates pure evil now, his ashed pallid skin is nothing akin to the silky alabaster of our perfect bloodless flesh, it is somehow waxy, pocked and seeming to distort with every word, his eyes bore into me, promoting once more the feeling of helpless terror.
Suddenly it roars and as it roars it leaps from that bunk, pushing through and past we two as if we didn't exist at all, behind us, below us, there is a scream, then multiple screams, we turn as one to see the creature amongst them now, those close are bathed in the mindless terror that his presence seems to promote, some further back are looking on in wonderment, is this some amazingly realistic part of the evenings entertainment?
The creature now seems to expand, seems to ooze non light, an inky black swelling out from it's centre, concealing it and it's first victim, a pretty thirty something who had been in danger of spilling from her Elvira cut dress all evening, her scream is terrifying, coinciding with the band trying manfully to continue with their number in the face of something that is to unbelievable to be anything but entertainment "Strewn with time's dead flowers Bereft in deathly bloom" We look away from the scene and into one another's eyes, we know what must be done, yes we are cold, killers, often treat the people below as little more than cattle, but whatever is down there cannot be allowed, just cannot be allowed. As one we leap over the low barricade, grasping at protruding metal struts, drapes, hanging corpses to slow our descent. Within a breath we stand outside the circle of darkness, the screams from within have receded, replaced by a dry, sucking, rasp.
The circle retreats and the monster stands before us, more substantial now, his victim is an empty husk at his feet, her dress the only thing that remains. "I told you, not tonight" he waves his hand toward me and a force, a punch, hits my chest, propelling me back across the room and hurling me against the bars of a cell door. Calli drops suddenly as I pull myself together, has dodged his second attack, her right leg snakes out and around, sweeping just above the floor before connecting at the back of the beasts knees, he begins to fall in slow motion, such is the force of her attack that his legs have crumpled beneath him.
Before he impacts though he seems to twist in mid-air, catching himself on all fours before pouncing toward her, huge talons sprouting from his fists, his gaping maw now lined with venomous dripping fangs, Calli hurls herself aside as he lands where she was a heartbeat before, I am flying across the room now, pausing only to wrench a section of the gantry free, swinging it manically toward the creature as I approach. He suffers the blow, the continued blows that I rain upon him with my makeshift club, beating him down to the floor, I bend, breathing short ragged gasps, satisfied that I have finished it. Before y mind can rationialise it the creature is standing before me again, if such a thing could look smug then it does, stares into my eyes and again I know terror "Bela Lugosi's dead" he spits the words at me, his fist driving into my chest, through my chest, trying to grasp at my heart, pull it clear...
Calli is on his back, her fists are hammering into what passes for it's head, her fangs are tearing at it's throat, vainly it tries to shake her off as it seeks to finish me, I am bereft of strength, have fallen to my knees, tears are rolling down my cheeks as I realise that I have known true love and am about to lose it forever. Without warning something slams into the creatures chest, a book, behind it is a man dressed as, dressed as what, Van Helsing, how ironic. The book can only be a bible as the creature is writhing beneath it, the weight of it bearing him down to the floor, pinning him there, Spike still frantically tearing at his throat as that tome seems to melt through his torso, sucking the rest of his corporeal body in beneath it as water might get sucked down through a sink-hole and he is gone.
My breathing is shallow, despite the last minute reprieve I'm not convinced that I can survive the ragged open wound that my chest seems to have become, Calli is gagging, retching up whatever is left of the foul taint of that beast that she consumed in her efforts to save me. I look to our saviour, he is unsure of himself now, knows that he did the right thing but is now losing his grip on what little sanity could survive that ordeal. "I need blood and I need it fast" I croak to him, his eyes lock on to mine, what little power is left within me compels him, dutifully he offers me his wrist, my fangs drive into him but he is strong, does not pull away, refuses even to wince as I draw his crimson nectar hungrily into my mouth. Calli is beside me now, holding her hand over my wound, holding me together in more ways than she imagines, she looks into my eyes, smiles that radiant, ravishing smile of hers "I knew you would show me a good time tonight lover" and I can't help but smile back "Undead undead undead" can that whole encounter have taken less than the running time, I shake my head in disbelief as the band play on.
Time to play at being human, its fun once in a while and the Halloween season is the perfect opportunity. One of my favoured few has come up trumps, acquired me two tickets to a society bash that is being held on Alcatraz tonight, a charity masquerade ball. All the attendees will be splashing their cash around in aid of childhood leukaemia, I could be blasé about that but there are still shreds of humanity in me somewhere and if shindigs like this can help to alleviate suffering then well and good.
What mashes my brain though is the high and mighty who think that coming along to a drunken revel and throwing their money around allows them to behave like prize a-holes day to day. I’m not saying that everyone from “society” is like that, but I’ve met plenty of them that are, maybe tonight I can scare a few extra charity $ out of them without having to use tax breaks as an incentive.
First things first, who to take and what to wear? The first question is really a no brainer, Calli is my first and last choice, assuming that she doesn’t turn me down flat. It’s fair to say that we have been spending too much time with each other the last couple of weeks, but I haven’t been this smitten since I turned, having her around reminds me what it was to be human, passion, lust, dare I think of love? It’s opening me up for a lot of hurt down the line, but right now nothing else matters to me but her.
Mobile telephony is an amazing thing, signal is 3 bars strong in my coffin, I bark her name and hear my phone dialling her number, two rings and she picks up, her voice is alert, sultry, as always my heart quickens at the sound of it “Hey babe what do I need to know?” I steady my voice to reply, best to at least sound in control right? “Hi gorgeous, if you are up for putting on your party frock tonight I’ve got a couple of tickets to the ball in the bay, you fancy it?”
She barely hesitates, which serves to still my fluttering heart “Sure, meet you at the pier, what time does our boat leave?” the thought of the boat terrifies me, I’m sure she knows it too, most of us have trouble with running water, me I have trouble with water period, but the short crossing across the bay should be easy, I know, I’m just trying to reassure myself! “It leaves at 9, so lets say 8-45, oh and it’s masquerade, so masks are mandatory ok.” She’s already hanging up with just a parting “Mwuah” down the line, I imagine her lips forming the shape and don’t try to stop the lascivious smile that starts creeping across my face
Ok, now that I’ve got the hottest date in town I need to dress to kill, the invites say evening wear but the masquerade status will allow me to stretch the boundaries a bit, choices, choices… The first thing that springs to mind is my formal black suit, on the surface it looks perfectly respectable, mandarin collar riding high up my neck means I can get away without a tie, tight white t-shirt hidden underneath will have all the flustered females trying to cop a feel of a bicep or a pec as the evening wears on, I grin at that thought, wondering briefly how Calli and all the men present will react if I let the mesmer cast it’s spell over all of the female party goers?
I’ll need a mask too of course, the obvious choice is the wide leather eye mask, it covers my face from my eye brows down to the tops of my cheeks with a sharp V of leather covering all but the bottom of my nose. It will serve to be slightly more menacing than the harlequin affairs that most people will be wearing.
Finally I need to think about hair and decoration, sometimes I think I’m worse than a woman the way I fret over my appearance but I do so love to make an entrance! I slick down my giveaway fair locks and rifle through a selection of wigs, I could of course just use the mesmer to make myself appear as pretty much anything or anyone I choose, but Calli is the one I’m trying to impress and I have to concentrate hard for glamours to have any effect on her at all, far easier to use traditional methods. The wig I select is short and dark, flecked with silver at the temples to add a bit of age and distinction, ha if only people knew how old I really am!
The finishing touch will be some body art, for that I need a minion and I know just the guy, he will have to come to me if I want it done before full dark but he is very much under my spell, I call him to mind, brining him into sharp focus, concentrating on his features, the way he walks, the way his lips move as he talks, breathing in the way he smells and finally concentrating on the way his eyes swam and then glazed over the first time he looked directly into mine. Suddenly I am looking through those eyes, seeing what he is seeing, hearing what he hears, I let my voice boom through his mind “Neil, come to me, I need your talents, come and earn my pleasure” it pleases me that he doesn’t even try to resist, no struggle against the mental command, I feel a smile flick across his lips and hear words spill from his mouth. “Sorry guys, I just remembered somewhere I have to be urgently” He stands up and starts packing the tools of his trade into a holdall as I let my hold on his mind diminish…
Neil is an excellent body artist, usually employed by the film industry or corporations for promotional work, I was lucky enough to bump into him when I was down in New Orleans for Mardi Gras a couple of years ago, not as much fun as it used to be but a great place to meet the right sort of people. He comes from the UK originally but at my behest has settled more or less full time on the West Coast now, my contacts mean he gets plenty of work in the film industry, his talents are useful to me and the fact that he utterly adores me makes control of him that much easier.
I know it will take him about an hour to get to me so time to tidy myself up in a hot deep bath.. What! Vampires aren’t allowed to immerse themselves in hot water now? Not allowed to anoint our bodies with fragrant oils and to lay back, glowing faintly amidst the steamy air? I’ll admit I don’t do showers, I consider them to be “running”, whilst a bath has simply been “run” yeah I know, it’s weak but I think most of our frailties are based on belief, some sort of voodoo nonsense, that if we think it’s true then it has power over us.
I lay there stewing slightly, enjoying the sensation of running my hands over my body, the light film of oil from the water easing their passage. I tense and then relax my muscles as my hands pass, probing my fingers into any knots that linger. As a race we have a supreme amount of control over how our bodies appear to others, either using glamours and illusions to mask imperfections or effect disguises, or if we really put our minds to it, can by force of will change the actual underlying physical attribute, increasing muscle mass here, stretch a limb or straighten a tooth there. How else do you imagine that most of us manage to appear so beautiful, no trick of fate there I think you’ll find.
The one thing that I seem to have no control over is as it would be for all males, mortal and vampires alike, as my hands run across my skin I find my mind wandering, my eyes close and in my imagination the hands on my body are Calli’s not my own. I feel the rush of blood that I cannot control, a surge causing me to swell, I allow my hands to wander there with my mind, grasping the heft of my cock as it grows, slowly, methodically stroking myself until fully erect. My hands are Calli’s hands now, is she in my head? Controlling me as easily as I dominate those who have looked into my eyes, or am I simply wishing she were. There is no urgency to my movements, no desire to speed myself to orgasm, just a slow, luxuriant pleasure in this fantasy. It is only hearing the front door overhead scrape open that shakes me from my revelry…
I leap from the tub, if tub is what you could call it, a long marble trough that sits in the middle of the large basement room, very decadent, but I do like my pleasures, my skin is aglow from the heat of the water and the light sheen of oil still clinging to it. I'm instantly alert, it's only been about 20 minutes since I spoke to Neil, surely he couldn't be here yet, but the door opening doesn't sound forced.
I move silently across the room to hug the shadows at the base of the stairs, the way the doors are aligned at the top mean that the first has to shut before the second can be opened, ensuring that no daylight, however weak at this time of year will spill down into my lair. Slowly the inner door creaks open, and a stocky figure starts padding down the stairs, Neil! I let myself relax and move back to the centre of the room.
“Dressed to impress I see” Neil tries hard not to let camp creep into his voice, but he just can't help himself sometimes “You took your time” I counter, with a hint of humour in my voice “Seeing as you are here why don't you make yourself useful and clean me off” I toss him my prized antique bronze scraper, the dealer who sold it to me swore blind that it had seen use as far back as ancient Rome, I like to think that in the past it was used to scrape the gladiators clean before they entered the arena, but it probably belonged to some tubby merchant who insisted on his nubile young slaves giving him a rub down.
Neil goes to work a little too eagerly, humming tunelessly as he scrapes the oil from my skin, leaving it feelings slightly raw, dry and tingling. “So what do you have in mind art-wise? Halloween party I'm guessing” I'd given it a bit of thought, but know full well that he is the creative one “I was considering something a bit George Clooney, dusk till dawn, tattoo coming up from the left wrist to just peep out over the collar of my jacket on my neck, what do you think?” he takes a step back and tries to picture something, or maybe he is just admiring my still naked form.
Eventually he speaks “OK, the tribal tat that GC had was pretty bland, I'm thinking crows, so either we do a Celtic knot-work crow and crane wending up around your arm, those two together represent the eternal struggle between good and evil, which is nice... or my other idea is to have one big crow made up of a murder of smaller ones, flying up your arm, wings spreading out over your shoulder with it's head coming up your neck, beak pecking at a couple of little puncture wounds just under your jawline” Now you can see why I love Neil, the guy is a genius, I just nod dumbly for a couple of seconds before I realise he is waiting for me to tell him what I want “Yep, the murder sounds perfect Neil”
Without hesitation he sets to work, base layers on first with a sponge, then detail work with an airbrush, it takes him over an hour from start to finish but the result was well worth standing naked in my basement for, by the time he is done you couldn't tell that it's not a real tattoo, the paints he uses shouldn't wear off for a couple of days so all I need to do now is pull my clothes on. I give Neil a hug by way of thank you, of course I cannot resist driving my fangs into his neck, draining just a mouthful of blood, just an appetiser for the night ahead, as I drink his breathing quickens and he stiffens in my arms, some boys just love to be dominated...
After Neil has departed I get myself together, and head for the bay, I'm about 20 minutes brisk walk away, I could call for a car but the walk will heighten my sense of anticipation of the evening ahead and will allow me to enjoy a slow approach, useful to weigh up the situation.
My timing is good, it's about ten minutes to nine as I hit the jetty, a crowd is milling about the gangplank leading on to a sleek looking ferry, their warm breath clouding the air around them in the half light provided by the stars and the occasional lamppost. Within seconds my eyes alight upon her and try as I might I cannot tear them away, now I notice that the gaze of most of the other men waiting for the boat are having the same issue, a 'cat who got the cream' grin spreads cheekily across my face at the thought that my date is the one that every man there wishes were his tonight.
I stop in my tracks to savour her a moment longer, tonight she is dressed for pleasure, not purpose and judging by the smile on her deep red lips Calli is enjoying the effect that her appearance is having on the crowd. She is wearing a full length, strapless evening gown, deep red velvet or at least I think so from this distance, it hugs her figure perfectly, accentuating the feminine hourglass that she presents without exaggerating it. Her shoulders and neck are invitingly bare, her hair must be pinned up, is piled the right word? It's rare that I get to feast my eyes on the back of her neck and I find it deeply sexual and arousing, an area that is usually covered by her flowing hair, laid bare, revealed, like a guilty secret..
The dress sweeps down beautifully to her ankles, I can just make out sharply pointed heels but there is no hint of discomfort or difficulty walking as she gracefully saunters amongst the crowd, is that her vampiric balance or just a womanly trait I wonder?
I stride purposefully along the jetty now, trying hard not to obviously enjoy the moment that I close with her, slip my arm through hers and allow my lips to brush her cheek, just below the tiny domino mask that can only be held on by glue or force of will “You look.... amazing” the pause was not for effect, for once I truly was at a loss how to describe, even amazing doesn't feel like it is doing her justice, truly I am in awe of this beautiful creature.
“You are looking pretty good yourself” she delivers her line dead pan, but I can feel her eyes lingering here and there, boring into me, a feeling that I could grow accustomed to. “Onward then beautiful Calli, an evening of mischief and mayhem awaits us on the rock” I steer us toward the waiting boat, gripping her arm slightly more firmly as we step across the gangplank and find our seats aboard.
The boat trip is mercifully short, the cabin packed as it is with part goers. The temptation to cut loose and start feeding upon them is immense, causing me the shiver with anticipation, nowhere for them to run, their screams inciting panic throughout the craft. I shake my head to clear it of the fantasy, Calli’s eyes are boring into me, as if she can sense my thoughts, her hand is resting on my forearm, ready to restrain me if need be, we are here to party, pretend to be human for just one night.
The mixture of costumes catches my attention, perhaps 50% have gone for the safe evening wear option, penguin suits and posh frocks, the rest are an assortment of fancy dress, werewolves, ghouls, Frankenstein’s monster and of course plenty of vampires, most are professionally made, expensively acquired for tonight’s revels, our hosts for the evening introduce themselves as the boat pulls alongside the dock
“Hi I’m Kelly and this is Jorg, first of all a big thank you for making it tonight, may I say how fabulous you are all looking” This delivered in that slightly smarmy PR manner that only a person employed for their perfect bone structure seems to manage. “Tonight’s festivities will be taking place in the largest of the buildings on the island, the main cell block, we ask that for your own safety you only visit the other buildings or outer areas with one of our organised events” Jorg takes over now, it would be easiest to describe him as a viking, long blonde hair, about 6’3” tall with the sort of shoulders designed to swing a big axe “The rock is a safe place as long as we treat it sensible ok, everyone is here to have a good time, so leave your wellbeing to us, but please just do as we say at all times. As we dock there is a short but steep walk up to the main building, equivalent to say climbing the stairs in a 13 story block, if you don’t feel able to make that then there are limited spaces in transports but we’d love you to join our torchlight procession, which will look amazing from back on shore”
I don’t doubt what he says, 250 flaming torches wending their way up the hill will look like a huge flaming snake in the distance, they hand each of us a stick, made from some kind of rough cloth that has been dipped in wax, as we step onto the shore, up ahead there is a guttering brazier that people are pausing to light their torches in before a smiling photographer gets couples to pose for mug shots as they walk through the stout gate that leads to the prison compound beyond. We patiently wait our turn, using all of our senses to scan the night, the sea air is chill and a few people in the crowd are muttering about getting a move on but I love the sharp slap of the wind against my skin, causing it to prickle and burn. Suddenly it is our turn, the photographer looks up to frame the shot and his jaw drops slightly, it is a joy to see him visibly staggered by our overwhelming beauty, we are forcing the issue by surrounding ourselves with glamours, so much so that it must be almost painful for him to look directly at us. After a couple of seconds he shakes his head slightly as he realises he is staring, Calli smiles widely at him now, capturing him completely “Anyway you want us sweetie?” his cheeks reddens as all sorts of things must shoot through his mind “uh, uhm, just er stand against the wall there please” we back up, Calli leans casually back against the wall and produces two cigarettes from somewhere, placing them between her lips and lighting them from her torch in one fluid movement, she inhales in one deep smooth breath that seems to stretch on for minutes before lowering her hands, leaving the glowing brands clenched between her teeth, fangs bared.
I reach across and pluck one lightly from her mouth before placing it in my own, the first taste is her, before I breathe deep and let the smoke fill my lungs, let the rush fly through my head to be replaced by that mellow fuzzy, first smoke of the day glow.
Our happy snapper starts clicking away, doesn’t seem to want to stop at the obligatory three or four shots, eventually we tire of posing for him and move on through the gate, leaving the queue behind us wondering quite what just happened. As we stride up the hill we can hear jangling guitar music, dis-concordant strains, it is hard to make out but as we move towards the open double doors it is clearly a tribute band doing a very passable cover of Passion of Lovers, we pause at the threshold, taking a moment to extinguish our cigarettes and dispose of our torches, I turn to embrace Calli, delivering a languidly slow kiss upon her upturned lips, looking deep into her eyes. Eventually one of our hosts comes to the door and asks if we won’t come in, thus invited we enter the party..
From the outside this place is dour and imposing, the buildings are crumbling, beaten down by the relentless exposure to the elements, inside I was expecting it to be much the same but the place has been transformed, presumably for the party, it’s all cosmetic of course but the impact is impressive.
We get led through an ante chamber and into what must have been the main chamber; a long corridor runs down the center of the room, walls of cells towering up above us each side with metal gantries looming overhead, long bench tables have been laid down the middle of the free space, groaning under the weight of food and decoration spread across them. A wooden dance floor has been laid in the middle of the span of tables with spotlights focussed from guard points on the gantry. The band appear to be situated in individual cells on the 3rd level at the end of the room, banks of coffin shaped speakers filling the cells on that wall and scattered throughout the chamber at random
The décor is deliciously dark, purple velvet draped everywhere, coffins, corpses swinging, hanging from the ceiling high overhead, jack o lanterns provide a shadowy malignant light. There are entertainers mingling amongst the guests, ghoulish jugglers tossing severed limbs or bloody axes, svelte zombie dancers, all of the serving staff are goblinesque, crouched and subservient, running drinks and plates of food to expectant revellers. The band are still bashing out Bahaus covers and doing a decent job of it, I’m not sure that the music is to everyone’s liking but Calli and I are all over it, she drags me to the floor and we are soon swaying around infused with true gothic angst, more than happy to be the focus of everyone’s attention, beautiful and stylish enough to carry it off. One of the countless benefits of being undead is no fear, no fear of failure, no fear of being ridiculed, just a suffusion of confidence, which is all you really need to carry anything off dead or alive, do everything with style and people will envy and love you for it in equal measure.
The evening is going to plan; Calli and I split up occasionally to put ourselves about amongst the crowd, they can’t help but fall under our spell, anyone who dares to makes eye contact with me is struck with the cold dread that they are in over their depth, knowing with grim certainty that it is already too late, they are mine. Chances are if they wake up in the morning with twin puncture wounds in their neck they’ll just think that some amorous wannabe vamp got over excited with the plastic fangs they were wearing. This is the perfect opportunity to drink our fill without draining people dry; it’s also a great chance to put some people with influence in the city into our thrall with little real effort.
I am tiring rapidly of the fawning attention of the 2 lithe dancers that I seem to have acquired; people might think that to be the object of desire of such beautiful creatures would be fabulous, but I know that it’s not truly me that they want, it’s the aura of power that radiates outward that they are drawn to, helpless as moths flitting about a naked light bulb, the only person that I’m truly interested in is the one that has free will where loving me is concerned, I persuade my zombie’s that they want to go and gyrate around a slightly anxious looking guest whilst I start scanning the crowd for my beloved.
It only takes me moments to conclude that she isn’t in the main hall, scanning the gantries above me I sense her more than see her, feel her dark shadow disappear into one of the cells at in the dim distance high above. Not wanting to waste time walking the length of the room to climb the stairs I bunch my legs beneath me and launch at the gantry above me, I leap from level to level like this, silently and with a minimum of effort, pulling myself up over the barrier surrounding the level and vaulting quietly to the walkway that runs along the outside of the dingy cells, each of these rooms can be little more than 6 x 8, many of the barred doors are pulled shut, presumably to deter revellers from using these more secluded chambers for anything untoward, the organisers could probably do without headlines "Society Dilettante' knocked up in machine gun Kelly's cell", but at the far end of the gantry I can make out Calli's silhouette standing in the doorway. I move forward but each step suddenly feels leaden, a cold dread seeps out of that open cell toward me, an almost physical entity pushing me backward, filling me with an unknown, unseen terror. I can see now as I force myself on, that her hands are gripped tight around bars to her sides, it is taking every ounce of resolve that she possesses not to turn and flee toward me, the same resolve that I am trying to summon just to continue toward her.
For what seems like an eternity this internal struggle goes on, it can take me no more than 30 slow slow seconds to cross the distance in reality but wherever I am now it does not feel like reality, as I step forward and push my arm around her waist I am transported, suddenly the prison is filled with light, with the stench of hundreds of men living day to day in these insanitary holes in the rock, There is little sound, no conversation, just the clattering of boots along the gantry as a guard clad in a stiff woollen uniform walks close behind the two of us, seeming to ignore our presence. The cell before us is inhabited now, a man, if you can call him that is squatting on the bed, staring intently at us, his features are demonic, twisted, tormented, his eyes an impenetrable black. Somewhere in the distance I hear the faintest chords crying to me through the ether, slow deliberate bass, repetitive drumbeats, and underneath it strains of jangling guitar, "The bats have left the bell tower, The victims have been bled, Red velvet lines the black box, Bela Lugosi's dead, Undead undead undead" the lyrics seem to be coming from another world but they are spilling out of that evil fanged mouth, smiling wide and wicked at us now, almost hungrily.
"You two are a long long way from home, shouldn't be here, not tonight, tonight is my feast, they have woken me, given me a taste for life again, I will eat them all, feed on their souls" I don't know what this thing is, this shade, don't know who he was or what he did, but he radiates pure evil now, his ashed pallid skin is nothing akin to the silky alabaster of our perfect bloodless flesh, it is somehow waxy, pocked and seeming to distort with every word, his eyes bore into me, promoting once more the feeling of helpless terror.
Suddenly it roars and as it roars it leaps from that bunk, pushing through and past we two as if we didn't exist at all, behind us, below us, there is a scream, then multiple screams, we turn as one to see the creature amongst them now, those close are bathed in the mindless terror that his presence seems to promote, some further back are looking on in wonderment, is this some amazingly realistic part of the evenings entertainment?
The creature now seems to expand, seems to ooze non light, an inky black swelling out from it's centre, concealing it and it's first victim, a pretty thirty something who had been in danger of spilling from her Elvira cut dress all evening, her scream is terrifying, coinciding with the band trying manfully to continue with their number in the face of something that is to unbelievable to be anything but entertainment "Strewn with time's dead flowers Bereft in deathly bloom" We look away from the scene and into one another's eyes, we know what must be done, yes we are cold, killers, often treat the people below as little more than cattle, but whatever is down there cannot be allowed, just cannot be allowed. As one we leap over the low barricade, grasping at protruding metal struts, drapes, hanging corpses to slow our descent. Within a breath we stand outside the circle of darkness, the screams from within have receded, replaced by a dry, sucking, rasp.
The circle retreats and the monster stands before us, more substantial now, his victim is an empty husk at his feet, her dress the only thing that remains. "I told you, not tonight" he waves his hand toward me and a force, a punch, hits my chest, propelling me back across the room and hurling me against the bars of a cell door. Calli drops suddenly as I pull myself together, has dodged his second attack, her right leg snakes out and around, sweeping just above the floor before connecting at the back of the beasts knees, he begins to fall in slow motion, such is the force of her attack that his legs have crumpled beneath him.
Before he impacts though he seems to twist in mid-air, catching himself on all fours before pouncing toward her, huge talons sprouting from his fists, his gaping maw now lined with venomous dripping fangs, Calli hurls herself aside as he lands where she was a heartbeat before, I am flying across the room now, pausing only to wrench a section of the gantry free, swinging it manically toward the creature as I approach. He suffers the blow, the continued blows that I rain upon him with my makeshift club, beating him down to the floor, I bend, breathing short ragged gasps, satisfied that I have finished it. Before y mind can rationialise it the creature is standing before me again, if such a thing could look smug then it does, stares into my eyes and again I know terror "Bela Lugosi's dead" he spits the words at me, his fist driving into my chest, through my chest, trying to grasp at my heart, pull it clear...
Calli is on his back, her fists are hammering into what passes for it's head, her fangs are tearing at it's throat, vainly it tries to shake her off as it seeks to finish me, I am bereft of strength, have fallen to my knees, tears are rolling down my cheeks as I realise that I have known true love and am about to lose it forever. Without warning something slams into the creatures chest, a book, behind it is a man dressed as, dressed as what, Van Helsing, how ironic. The book can only be a bible as the creature is writhing beneath it, the weight of it bearing him down to the floor, pinning him there, Spike still frantically tearing at his throat as that tome seems to melt through his torso, sucking the rest of his corporeal body in beneath it as water might get sucked down through a sink-hole and he is gone.
My breathing is shallow, despite the last minute reprieve I'm not convinced that I can survive the ragged open wound that my chest seems to have become, Calli is gagging, retching up whatever is left of the foul taint of that beast that she consumed in her efforts to save me. I look to our saviour, he is unsure of himself now, knows that he did the right thing but is now losing his grip on what little sanity could survive that ordeal. "I need blood and I need it fast" I croak to him, his eyes lock on to mine, what little power is left within me compels him, dutifully he offers me his wrist, my fangs drive into him but he is strong, does not pull away, refuses even to wince as I draw his crimson nectar hungrily into my mouth. Calli is beside me now, holding her hand over my wound, holding me together in more ways than she imagines, she looks into my eyes, smiles that radiant, ravishing smile of hers "I knew you would show me a good time tonight lover" and I can't help but smile back "Undead undead undead" can that whole encounter have taken less than the running time, I shake my head in disbelief as the band play on.
First Kiss
How many more nights must I endure, the dull ache where once beat my heart, the only passion I feel now is that of young lovers as I tear out their throats, taste it rich within their blood, how did I become so empty.
I am old yes, have seen too much perhaps and now should think not to return to my tomb this night, but alight instead upon some distant eyrie, howl at the moon until it turns to sun, then whither and no more feel this pain, this emptyness.
I wander with no purpose, through the trees, letting the light of the moon cast shadows around me, the creatures of the night, fox, owl, rats even, flee as they feel the chill of my presence approach.
Then she fills my world, sitting under the pale moon I first catch sight of her, can feel her heart beating slowly, can smell the life that she offers me, how I long to feast upon her, her skin almost silver, so perfect, smooth, flawless, her raven hair cascading down her back. In my mind she is calling to me, begging me to feed upon her, but this is a trick of the hunger, I have known it for too long, my constant companion, by any means it will have me feed, she is so young, so perfect, so vital and yet I sense in her a melancholy, some sense of not belonging to this world, why else youd she sit in such a fae place, but to wait for me to come..
I close upon her, soundlessly, each movement etched into my muscle memory, so many times have I stalked prey, I am fluid, graceful as I approach, she has no chance to move as my hands are upon her delicate shoulders, my mouth closing upon her alabaster neck, her skin almost as pale as mine but I sense the blood pumping through her veins, can smell it, a rich reward as my fangs close upon her throat.
I sense no fear in her though, almost a welcome sigh at the sharp bite of pain as I penetrate her flesh and then she fills me, all of her thoughts, all of her memories, her desires, lusts, passions, they flood through me, become part of me.
I could drain this beautiful creature, the hunger demands that I do, but it is not my master, whatever it might think, and she is too precious a flower to devour here, she wants more than to be drained by me, I can feel her fluttering heart cry for more, a kiss, a caress, to touch her as none have done before.
I struggle against the hunger, it rages at me as I deny it, withdraw my fangs from her neck yet still she is weak, my lips are upon hers now, my kiss is no gentle thing but is not forced, just driven, passionate, my hands upon her body, tearing her clothes from her as I allow the hunger to be replaced with a lust that has been lost to me for years, she offers no resistance, assists even, unbuclking my belt and pulling at my trousers with a force that belies her size.
I am upon her then, she grasping at me, her fingers become claws as she rakes at my flesh, I welcome the pain, to me it is pleasure, the sensation a powerful adjunct to the unthought of pleasure as I press myself to her, my rigid shaft is playing against her lips, parting them and running over the moist flesh that lies within, we are both wet with the excitement, I can hold back no longer and slowly, powerfully force my way into her, feel her gasp as she expands to accept my girth, I pull her forward to me and buck, frenzied, bestial, this moment, this passion cannot last long, but we are both panting, sweating, gasping, encompassed by the waves of orgasm that flash between us, through us.
I feel her heart flutter, murmur again, I have taken too much from her, a frail human, I should have restrained myself, must save her, I feel the panic welling within me at the thought of losing one so beautiful, losing her now I have found such a reason to go on, I cannot countance the thought.
Hastily I draw my razor talons across my wrist, hold the bleeding flesh tight against my loves mouth and force her to drink deep of the poison that flows through my veins, she chokes, gags, but I will not let her loose, will not allow her to resist me in this, she must become one with me that together we will dance the danse macabre down the ages.
Weak from the loss I collapse beside her and together we lay, our breathing shallow and troubled, the only sound beyond that is her occaisional retch as her system fights against becomming what she must become to survive.
And then a gasp, she sits up as my blood takes hold of her, she feels it like a drug, coursing through her, her mind swims as the realisation of what she has become, what we have become, lovers, killers, for eternity.
I sit beside her, kiss her, soft but no less passionate than before and then we run, run together, to escape the coming of the dawn.
I am old yes, have seen too much perhaps and now should think not to return to my tomb this night, but alight instead upon some distant eyrie, howl at the moon until it turns to sun, then whither and no more feel this pain, this emptyness.
I wander with no purpose, through the trees, letting the light of the moon cast shadows around me, the creatures of the night, fox, owl, rats even, flee as they feel the chill of my presence approach.
Then she fills my world, sitting under the pale moon I first catch sight of her, can feel her heart beating slowly, can smell the life that she offers me, how I long to feast upon her, her skin almost silver, so perfect, smooth, flawless, her raven hair cascading down her back. In my mind she is calling to me, begging me to feed upon her, but this is a trick of the hunger, I have known it for too long, my constant companion, by any means it will have me feed, she is so young, so perfect, so vital and yet I sense in her a melancholy, some sense of not belonging to this world, why else youd she sit in such a fae place, but to wait for me to come..
I close upon her, soundlessly, each movement etched into my muscle memory, so many times have I stalked prey, I am fluid, graceful as I approach, she has no chance to move as my hands are upon her delicate shoulders, my mouth closing upon her alabaster neck, her skin almost as pale as mine but I sense the blood pumping through her veins, can smell it, a rich reward as my fangs close upon her throat.
I sense no fear in her though, almost a welcome sigh at the sharp bite of pain as I penetrate her flesh and then she fills me, all of her thoughts, all of her memories, her desires, lusts, passions, they flood through me, become part of me.
I could drain this beautiful creature, the hunger demands that I do, but it is not my master, whatever it might think, and she is too precious a flower to devour here, she wants more than to be drained by me, I can feel her fluttering heart cry for more, a kiss, a caress, to touch her as none have done before.
I struggle against the hunger, it rages at me as I deny it, withdraw my fangs from her neck yet still she is weak, my lips are upon hers now, my kiss is no gentle thing but is not forced, just driven, passionate, my hands upon her body, tearing her clothes from her as I allow the hunger to be replaced with a lust that has been lost to me for years, she offers no resistance, assists even, unbuclking my belt and pulling at my trousers with a force that belies her size.
I am upon her then, she grasping at me, her fingers become claws as she rakes at my flesh, I welcome the pain, to me it is pleasure, the sensation a powerful adjunct to the unthought of pleasure as I press myself to her, my rigid shaft is playing against her lips, parting them and running over the moist flesh that lies within, we are both wet with the excitement, I can hold back no longer and slowly, powerfully force my way into her, feel her gasp as she expands to accept my girth, I pull her forward to me and buck, frenzied, bestial, this moment, this passion cannot last long, but we are both panting, sweating, gasping, encompassed by the waves of orgasm that flash between us, through us.
I feel her heart flutter, murmur again, I have taken too much from her, a frail human, I should have restrained myself, must save her, I feel the panic welling within me at the thought of losing one so beautiful, losing her now I have found such a reason to go on, I cannot countance the thought.
Hastily I draw my razor talons across my wrist, hold the bleeding flesh tight against my loves mouth and force her to drink deep of the poison that flows through my veins, she chokes, gags, but I will not let her loose, will not allow her to resist me in this, she must become one with me that together we will dance the danse macabre down the ages.
Weak from the loss I collapse beside her and together we lay, our breathing shallow and troubled, the only sound beyond that is her occaisional retch as her system fights against becomming what she must become to survive.
And then a gasp, she sits up as my blood takes hold of her, she feels it like a drug, coursing through her, her mind swims as the realisation of what she has become, what we have become, lovers, killers, for eternity.
I sit beside her, kiss her, soft but no less passionate than before and then we run, run together, to escape the coming of the dawn.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Heartbeat
I'm breathless as I burst through the door, the stark glare of neon tubes forcing me to shield my eyes, I see her immediately, through the tangle of tubes and wires, please god don't let me be too late.
She looks cold, eyes closed, no rise and fall of her chest, lips tinged with blue, is that just the insane temperature in here or is she, is she?
I look up, eyes following the cables that emerge from the top of her gown, following them to the monitor, it looks like a cliche from a 70's hospital drama, green screen, one flat line, it hasn't moved and it feels like I've been watching it for ever, I feel the terror welling up inside me and I know that I'm too late, wasn't here for her, have missed her and will miss her forever.
Bu-ding! a spike in the line, a shuddering breath from her lips, thank you, thank you whatever god is listening to me this day thank you, I'm on my knees by the side of the bed, her hand, so cold, so very cold is in mine, I hold it to my lips and whisper her name, tell her how much she means to me and that I'm not going to let her go, not like this.
I can hear Damon Albarn singing inside my head,
"Come on, come on, come on, get through it
Come on, come on, come on, loves the greatest thing that we have,
Oh my baby, Oh my baby
Oh why, oh my.
I tell him to fuck off, this is no time for sentimental songs, this is about my hand wrapped around hers an anchor to whatever of her is left in there.
Under all the pain, under all the dull numb nothing, I know that she is still in there, fighting to hang in, maybe just a pinprick of light in a dark dark place, but now I know she's there I can breath again too, can let my heart beat and let the love I feel for her fill my stomach to replace the empty aching, puke inducing nothing that was there before.
She looks cold, eyes closed, no rise and fall of her chest, lips tinged with blue, is that just the insane temperature in here or is she, is she?
I look up, eyes following the cables that emerge from the top of her gown, following them to the monitor, it looks like a cliche from a 70's hospital drama, green screen, one flat line, it hasn't moved and it feels like I've been watching it for ever, I feel the terror welling up inside me and I know that I'm too late, wasn't here for her, have missed her and will miss her forever.
Bu-ding! a spike in the line, a shuddering breath from her lips, thank you, thank you whatever god is listening to me this day thank you, I'm on my knees by the side of the bed, her hand, so cold, so very cold is in mine, I hold it to my lips and whisper her name, tell her how much she means to me and that I'm not going to let her go, not like this.
I can hear Damon Albarn singing inside my head,
"Come on, come on, come on, get through it
Come on, come on, come on, loves the greatest thing that we have,
Oh my baby, Oh my baby
Oh why, oh my.
I tell him to fuck off, this is no time for sentimental songs, this is about my hand wrapped around hers an anchor to whatever of her is left in there.
Under all the pain, under all the dull numb nothing, I know that she is still in there, fighting to hang in, maybe just a pinprick of light in a dark dark place, but now I know she's there I can breath again too, can let my heart beat and let the love I feel for her fill my stomach to replace the empty aching, puke inducing nothing that was there before.
All gone a bit quiet
Got called away by work and this and that and the other so not much update wise, I do have at least 3 things on the boil which I hope to post really soon, in the meantime I will offer a piece that I was compelled to write about a friend in need.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Blood Moon Rising pt VII
Would you like to know one of the numerous benefits of being a vampire? No insomnia, none of that tossing and turning as we try and nestle into the warm embrace of sleep, just flick a switch in your head and you might as well be dead, for all intents and purposes you are, you flick off and nothing in hell or earth is going to rouse you until your body has had the rest it needs. Mine, recovering from 6 point blank gun shots is going to need a while, hence my flight to the morgue, 12 hours down the line I'll be good as new and chances are other than the odd prod or poke that I'll be left alone for that time whilst they try to figure who the hell I am.
One of the downsides of course is the dreams, every soul you ever stole, the last deep draught of blood, the conversion from the living to the undead, those poor bastards will be bouncing around in your head for an eternity, they like to fuck with your dreams, you get the sort of visions like a bad trip, everything looks real, smells real, tastes real and it feels like you are right there, if you get good dreams then you are in for a ride, if it's a nightmare then it's like someone opened the gates of hell and let the demons run in your head, luckily most of the demons are shit scared of me, so I get left alone most of the time.
I come too with a shudder, the dark and the cold surrounding me, but it doesn't smell right, dusty, musty, not the morgue. I push out with my feet and the meet stone, I am laying on stone and stone is above me, I can smell her too, the same smell that washed over me in my dream. I reach up above and heave at the stone above my head, again waves of terror wash over me at the thought of impending doom, just no sweet rivulet of pleasure running under the surface to accompany them this time....
The orderly processed me into my body bag well enough, clearing of most of the blood and gore, although I wasn't that impressed with him when he stuck his finger up my ass, where the hell do they find the people to do these jobs? Or maybe it is too long in the job that turns em that way, it'll be the last anus he gets a buzz out of anyway, when I wake up I'm going to bite his finger off and stick it so far up him that he'll be wishing he cut his nails, that's all I'm saying.
The cold envelops me, soothing, like a comfort blanket for a kid, eyes are closed, heart is beating so slowly it might as well be stopped, just the race of colours behind my eyes, the whirl of my encounter with Jack, eating his heart, the pimp, the hooker I've secreted away to play with later, past victims creep up on me, hoping I'll spend the time of day with them, hell, they probably want someone sane to talk to right, though I'm not sure I'm the right guy for the job.
My dreams kick in, no surprise that she is the focus, she has been the focus for the last week, ever since the chance encounter. I was riding the sleeper train to the coast when I felt her presence, don't know if she was flying overhead or just ripping the throat out of someone close by, I just got this rush of power and I had to know more. I jumped the train and tracked her down, Vampira, queen of the night, how I long for her.
My dream shifts, I'm in her arms, she is stronger than I am, older, ancient and more deadly, she holds me fast and there is no escape, or is it just that in my mind I've no desire to run from her. I'm naked, what am I doing naked, she is clad in black, quelle suprise, long legs, slightly apart, tight figure hugging shirt, she is aroused, can't be the cold that is pushing her taut nipples into the flimsy cloth, the sight of them sends a pulse through me, it starts in my brain, my pupils dilate and the warm fire rushes down to my loins.
She smiles, a look that would terrify me if I had the sense, a glint in her eye, is that hunger? She steps forward and catches hold of my swelling cock in her hand, she leans in to my body and kisses me full on the mouth. This dream I can handle, I'm not sure it's where I should be putting her, I should be in control, dominant, but she seems to have me at an advantage here.
“you are nothing to me, nothing but pain and pleasure, I'll take what I want, when I want it, I'm the one who is ALWAYS in control” she spits the last few words at me, making sure I know it to be true, I try to wriggle free of her grasp but her fingers close tight around my cock and balls, squeezing with inhuman strength, tears well up in my eyes and the arousal that had raised me to attention quickly turns to ice cold terror, the pain is excruciating.
“don't cry little one” she mutters as she runs the fingers of her free hand through the tangle of hair on my chest “I wouldn't want to break you before I fed” her eyes catch mine and I am frozen by her glare, the command is simple “Don't Move” it is unspoken but I hear it all the same, her mental dominance has locked my muscles in place as surely as if I had slipped on a straight jacket. Vampira drops to her knees in front of me, a lascivious lick of her lips and a hungry flash across her eyes.
Now one hand is beneath me, cradling my balls, stroking, scratching, pulling at them, the other hand is wrapped around my shaft, lost in the pleasure as she manipulates me I note how long and delicate her fingers, the nails perfectly manicured, long, pointed, painted black or deep purple, the curl around me, gripping me at the base, tight, tight but not painfully so now, her wrist is gently pulling back and forth, so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, drawing my foreskin slowly back over the head of my cock, the tight flesh distending, arousing me further.
In my head I catch my breath, some small rivulet of me still there, “only a dream, only a dream, go with the flow, nothing bad is going down here”
Again she runs her tongue over her lips, I am sure they were a dark crimson red before but now they are black, like the nails, painted lady, she glances up into my eyes, daring me to try and move, showing me that whilst a woman in this position could be thought to be the submissive, the compliant one, that actually it is she who holds all the cards, I am at her mercy and she knows it.
Her head bobs forward, still her eyes up and locked on mine, her tongue darts out and wraps itself dexterously about my glans, the shock of the contact, so sensitive, so extremely powerful, I feel it rock me, like a wave shooting up from the tip as she licks it, roaring through the core of my body and exploding in my brain. She bobs further forward, her tongue is travelling down the underside of my my jerking sex, her hand still tugging at the base, her lips close around me now and I am lost in the amazing sensation, immediately warm, so soft, like a thousand strands of velvet being pulled tight over me.
Her cheeks suck in as she exerts pressure on me, as if she could suck more blood from my heart and brain, down into what has now become the very focus of my being. Her two hands, her tongue, her lips are all working as one one me now, tugging, stroking, lapping, caressing, drawing me forward with now way or will for me to intercede.
She pushes her head further down on to me now, the hand so recently drawing me on to orgasm reaches around behind my back, pulling in at the small so that I thrust forward into her, her tongue joins her other hand, lapping at my balls as her mouth slides down my shaft. I feel the sharp cut of her fangs as they gouge twin groves in the top of my penis, the pain is nothing to the pleasure that she brings, it is a welcome aside in the powerful oblivion that she is blessing me with.
Her mouth closes tight about me and the fangs sink deep into the base of me, the blood is pumping hard, my brain instructing every organ to give up all it can for this most primal of purposes, she is drinking deep of me, locked into me as still she rocks forward and back, forward and back, the depth that she holds me in is causing my sensitive glands to brush the back of her throat, I can caught in the ecstasy of her deep throating me against the harsh reality of the life she is draining, I could hang on the edge of this for ever, between orgasm and death, how long I am there, nearing release I cannot say.
One of the downsides of course is the dreams, every soul you ever stole, the last deep draught of blood, the conversion from the living to the undead, those poor bastards will be bouncing around in your head for an eternity, they like to fuck with your dreams, you get the sort of visions like a bad trip, everything looks real, smells real, tastes real and it feels like you are right there, if you get good dreams then you are in for a ride, if it's a nightmare then it's like someone opened the gates of hell and let the demons run in your head, luckily most of the demons are shit scared of me, so I get left alone most of the time.
I come too with a shudder, the dark and the cold surrounding me, but it doesn't smell right, dusty, musty, not the morgue. I push out with my feet and the meet stone, I am laying on stone and stone is above me, I can smell her too, the same smell that washed over me in my dream. I reach up above and heave at the stone above my head, again waves of terror wash over me at the thought of impending doom, just no sweet rivulet of pleasure running under the surface to accompany them this time....
The orderly processed me into my body bag well enough, clearing of most of the blood and gore, although I wasn't that impressed with him when he stuck his finger up my ass, where the hell do they find the people to do these jobs? Or maybe it is too long in the job that turns em that way, it'll be the last anus he gets a buzz out of anyway, when I wake up I'm going to bite his finger off and stick it so far up him that he'll be wishing he cut his nails, that's all I'm saying.
The cold envelops me, soothing, like a comfort blanket for a kid, eyes are closed, heart is beating so slowly it might as well be stopped, just the race of colours behind my eyes, the whirl of my encounter with Jack, eating his heart, the pimp, the hooker I've secreted away to play with later, past victims creep up on me, hoping I'll spend the time of day with them, hell, they probably want someone sane to talk to right, though I'm not sure I'm the right guy for the job.
My dreams kick in, no surprise that she is the focus, she has been the focus for the last week, ever since the chance encounter. I was riding the sleeper train to the coast when I felt her presence, don't know if she was flying overhead or just ripping the throat out of someone close by, I just got this rush of power and I had to know more. I jumped the train and tracked her down, Vampira, queen of the night, how I long for her.
My dream shifts, I'm in her arms, she is stronger than I am, older, ancient and more deadly, she holds me fast and there is no escape, or is it just that in my mind I've no desire to run from her. I'm naked, what am I doing naked, she is clad in black, quelle suprise, long legs, slightly apart, tight figure hugging shirt, she is aroused, can't be the cold that is pushing her taut nipples into the flimsy cloth, the sight of them sends a pulse through me, it starts in my brain, my pupils dilate and the warm fire rushes down to my loins.
She smiles, a look that would terrify me if I had the sense, a glint in her eye, is that hunger? She steps forward and catches hold of my swelling cock in her hand, she leans in to my body and kisses me full on the mouth. This dream I can handle, I'm not sure it's where I should be putting her, I should be in control, dominant, but she seems to have me at an advantage here.
“you are nothing to me, nothing but pain and pleasure, I'll take what I want, when I want it, I'm the one who is ALWAYS in control” she spits the last few words at me, making sure I know it to be true, I try to wriggle free of her grasp but her fingers close tight around my cock and balls, squeezing with inhuman strength, tears well up in my eyes and the arousal that had raised me to attention quickly turns to ice cold terror, the pain is excruciating.
“don't cry little one” she mutters as she runs the fingers of her free hand through the tangle of hair on my chest “I wouldn't want to break you before I fed” her eyes catch mine and I am frozen by her glare, the command is simple “Don't Move” it is unspoken but I hear it all the same, her mental dominance has locked my muscles in place as surely as if I had slipped on a straight jacket. Vampira drops to her knees in front of me, a lascivious lick of her lips and a hungry flash across her eyes.
Now one hand is beneath me, cradling my balls, stroking, scratching, pulling at them, the other hand is wrapped around my shaft, lost in the pleasure as she manipulates me I note how long and delicate her fingers, the nails perfectly manicured, long, pointed, painted black or deep purple, the curl around me, gripping me at the base, tight, tight but not painfully so now, her wrist is gently pulling back and forth, so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, drawing my foreskin slowly back over the head of my cock, the tight flesh distending, arousing me further.
In my head I catch my breath, some small rivulet of me still there, “only a dream, only a dream, go with the flow, nothing bad is going down here”
Again she runs her tongue over her lips, I am sure they were a dark crimson red before but now they are black, like the nails, painted lady, she glances up into my eyes, daring me to try and move, showing me that whilst a woman in this position could be thought to be the submissive, the compliant one, that actually it is she who holds all the cards, I am at her mercy and she knows it.
Her head bobs forward, still her eyes up and locked on mine, her tongue darts out and wraps itself dexterously about my glans, the shock of the contact, so sensitive, so extremely powerful, I feel it rock me, like a wave shooting up from the tip as she licks it, roaring through the core of my body and exploding in my brain. She bobs further forward, her tongue is travelling down the underside of my my jerking sex, her hand still tugging at the base, her lips close around me now and I am lost in the amazing sensation, immediately warm, so soft, like a thousand strands of velvet being pulled tight over me.
Her cheeks suck in as she exerts pressure on me, as if she could suck more blood from my heart and brain, down into what has now become the very focus of my being. Her two hands, her tongue, her lips are all working as one one me now, tugging, stroking, lapping, caressing, drawing me forward with now way or will for me to intercede.
She pushes her head further down on to me now, the hand so recently drawing me on to orgasm reaches around behind my back, pulling in at the small so that I thrust forward into her, her tongue joins her other hand, lapping at my balls as her mouth slides down my shaft. I feel the sharp cut of her fangs as they gouge twin groves in the top of my penis, the pain is nothing to the pleasure that she brings, it is a welcome aside in the powerful oblivion that she is blessing me with.
Her mouth closes tight about me and the fangs sink deep into the base of me, the blood is pumping hard, my brain instructing every organ to give up all it can for this most primal of purposes, she is drinking deep of me, locked into me as still she rocks forward and back, forward and back, the depth that she holds me in is causing my sensitive glands to brush the back of her throat, I can caught in the ecstasy of her deep throating me against the harsh reality of the life she is draining, I could hang on the edge of this for ever, between orgasm and death, how long I am there, nearing release I cannot say.
Explanation on Blood Moon Rising
For anyone who is reading anyway!
BMR is a collaboration all of the odd sections are written by me, the evens by Vampira, we originally started posting them on Facebook but had some trouble with our accounts so continued via email, I'm posting them here as it's the easiest place for me to keep a decent record of them!
BMR is a collaboration all of the odd sections are written by me, the evens by Vampira, we originally started posting them on Facebook but had some trouble with our accounts so continued via email, I'm posting them here as it's the easiest place for me to keep a decent record of them!
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