Gift of the Nightflyer

by Sultry Summers

  Ignatio began again, slowly until he had filled her to the extent of his cock’s length and her depth. Leslie moaned and almost fainted from the ecstasy of the sensations that coursed through her body. She gasped for breath, only to have Ignatio cover her lips with his. His mouth sucked her little tongue and nipped at her lips.

  Leslie had never begged for sex, never had she hungered for sex as she did for blood, until now. Ignatio’s ability to arouse her was amazing. No man had ever brought her to such an orgasm. Sex was one pleasure she enjoyed from the mortals that she was glad she had not lost the desire for, when she had become a vampire. Her body responded to Ignatio’s, a moan escaped her. He looked into her hypnotic eyes. His hand explored the sensitive flesh between her legs with a gentle finger, after he had entered her, still teasing her clit. Leslie cried out, as another tremor shook her. Ignatio kissed her breasts again to tease them. Leslie smelled his blood through his skin, she could feel it pulsing through his veins and arteries, and she licked his neck to revel in the shiver her tongue’s caress produced. Tenderly, she kissed his neck, and tasted the spot where she would bite him, he shivered again, and she hugged him closer. He pumped his swollen cock vigorously into her fevered body, as she arched her back to meet his thrusts, pulling him closer, and locking her silken legs around him to prevent his escape. Lady Leslie opened her mouth, her hot breath on his neck quickened his pulse and she unsheathed her fangs. She drove them deep into her Count’s neck and pierced his jugular vein. Ignatio’s hot rich blood pumped into her mouth by his rapid heartbeat. When she pierced his neck and began to draw his blood, he climaxed and the only sound was the roar of his orgasm. It wasn’t Leslie’s intention to drain her Count, and she called on all her willpower to stop. In a series of three nights she would drain him slowly, on the third bite under a full moon she would give him the gift. Ignatio collapsed on top of her, spent, his masculine weight a pleasing pressure distributed over her. Ignatio then rolled to one side and wiped the small amount of blood from his neck.

  “You’re a blood thirsty little wench.” He remarked with a laugh and fell asleep.

  Soon after the Count had fallen asleep, Leslie slipped back to her own room. She slept most of the day, as did the Count, but for different reasons.

  Count Magonoff’s staff knew it was highly unusual for him to sleep late into the day. He never rose later than nine in the morning and now it was after the mid-day hour. Who knew what schedule Lady Leslie kept? Around sundown, she was heard up and moving around. Her driver had been located shortly after the Count retired the night before, and treated hospitably. It had surprised the staff that he was so young, a handsome lad of possibly nineteen. Silent in his nature, loyal to his mistress he only questioned her welfare.

  Katrina, the housekeeper, sent the upstairs maid to inquire about Lady Leslie’s needs. The maid knocked on Lady Leslie’s door.

  “Ma am?” Her voice was a soft summons. “Can I bring you tea or breakfast?” The door opened to reveal the lady dressed in a delicate pink dressing gown, her long wavy blonde hair flowing freely down her back. The maid curtsied.

  “That would be pleasant, thank you.” she smiled.

  “Won’t be long, Ma’am.” The maid smiled and was off. Lady Leslie would not of course eat the food, it was not to her taste, but it was important to appear human for a few more days.

  As the maid had promised, it wasn’t long and she returned with a tray, properly set and a small bouquet of wild flowers gracing it. “Shall I bring it in?”

  “Yes please,” Lady Leslie smiled. “Would you convey my apologies to Lord Magonoff for having slept all day? I am aghast, but I was exhausted.”

  “I doubt he would notice, my lady. He has yet to rise himself,” the maid said, a bit of worry in her young voice.

  “Oh? I trust he is well?” Lady Leslie asked.

  “His personal valet says he is just tired also, but it is not like him,” the maid said quietly and Lady Leslie knew his staff cared for the Count. This meant little to her other than a ready source of nourishment.

  “Thank you, ah?” Lady Leslie didn’t know the girl’s name.

  “I am called Sascha, milady.”

  “Thank you, Sascha,” Leslie said as the maid opened the door.

  “Shall I collect the tray in about an hour?”

  “I will leave it outside the door, and should the Count rise I would appreciate knowing.” Leslie smiled.

  Chapter Two

  Ignatio awoke exhausted. From the dim light that filtered thought the thick pane glass windows it appeared to be dawn. A smile crossed his face when he glanced at the indentation left on the pillow next to him from Lady Leslie’s head. He remembered his midnight visitor fondly. A whiff of her rose and musk scent evoked erotic memories when he smoothed his hand across her pillow. Leslie must have returned to her own room. It would not have looked acceptable if found in his room by the staff. The familiar knock of his valet Marko announced his presence. “Come!” Ignatio called.

  “I am pleased to see you’re awake, my lord,” Marko remarked with concern in his voice.

  “Marko,” Ignatio chided in a tired but humorous voice. “It is but day break.”

  “No your lordship, it is sundown,” Marko explained in a neutral way.

  “Marko, you jest!” but Ignatio knew he spoke the truth. He wondered what Lady Leslie must think. “Has Lady Leslie left?”

  “No, milord, she too has only just risen.” The valet informed him with a straight but knowing expression. “I will see to your breakfast, milord.” With a bow, he turned to leave.

  “Marko, make it a large one please. Oh, has Lady Leslie eaten?”

  “Yes, milord, just a bit ago.”

  “Was her driver found?” Ignatio inquired.

  “Yes, last evening shortly after you both retired for the night. He is fine.” Marko left Ignatio alone with his memories of the previous night.

  He rose and steadied himself, feeling dizzy. An unaccustomed chill seemed to fill the room and he dressed. He rekindled the fire in the hearth against the chill that seemed to permeate him.

  “Milord, I would have started the fire.” Marko commented upon his return.

  “A simple task,” the Count said with a shrug, sitting down to eat. “Would you ask Lady Leslie to join me downstairs in half hour or so please?”

  “Of course, milord.” Marko left to deliver the message.

  Dressed in elegant black linen pants, a vest, and a waistcoat over a white silk ruffled shirt, the Count descended the wide stairs and found Lady Leslie waiting for him in the drawing room. “Milady.” He smiled, a warm glimmer of reminiscence in his eyes.

  “Count.” She smiled seductively. She had chosen her tight bodice gown to cause just the appropriate response, hoping for an arousal from Ignatio. Leslie allowed a slight blush to light her cheeks, while Ignatio feasted his eyes on her low neckline trimmed with white lace that lay enticingly over the areolas of her nipples. Already her nipples were aroused–hard, pink, and grape-sized–sensitive due to the lace that was brushing and restraining them.

  “I am told your driver was found safe,” Ignatio mentioned, moistening his dry lips with his tongue.

  “Yes, but I fear I was so tired,” she looked up into his fiery eyes with a coy expression, deliberately running her hand over the smooth, satin lapel of his evening coat. “that I slept most of the day and have taken advantage of your hospitality.”

  “Lady Leslie, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish. It is pleasant to have your company.” The Count assured her, and though the yellow gown was comely on her, he wondered what she was wearing beneath it. Ignatio liked her hair, styled back from her face and the rest loose, flowing down her back. He drew a long satiny lock from her shoulders and held it to his nose; it smelled of rose and musk, as she did. With his eyes half closed he brought the lock of hair to his lips then placed it over her right breast. His fingers brushed that smooth mound of flesh through the lace. Memories of the previous
night shone bright in his eyes, her scent of roses and musk surrounded him.

  “It was comforting to have you close last night.” She said in a low tremulous voice as if ghosts of her frightful dream had returned. Leslie pressed her body fully against his, her body craving his protection and masculinity.

  “I am only too delighted to have been a comfort.” His eyes were intense, the promise of passion lighting them. “Feel free to seek my comfort at anytime, Leslie.” Ignatio placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her red lips, as her arms encircled him to pull his mouth closer, warmly submitting to his embrace. He masterfully reminded Leslie of the pleasures he had brought her the night before with his mouth, and would again if given the opportunity. Ignatio led Leslie to a small couch so they could sit and talk. “How is it you came to be on the road to my manor?” Ignatio inquired. “This road has only one destination.”

  “My driver,” she blushed, “went right, when I suspect, he should have gone left.” She shrugged, “Fate, I guess.”

  “To fate then!” he toasted with laughter in his voice, and they sipped the wine he had poured. “Come, the moon isn’t quite full but it is bright enough, let us walk in the garden.”

  Tonight, Leslie knew she would have to find her meal elsewhere, as the Count must regain his strength before she drew her second sip. She could however, look forward to the carnal pleasures of his bed, since she found him to be such a satisfying, if a bit sadistic, lover. After all, she thought, I’ve never had an orgasm as intense as the one he drove me to last night.

  “You have a lovely garden, Ignatio,” Leslie commented and stopped to draw in the scent of a bright red rose. “The night air is alive with the flower’s perfume.”

  “Tomorrow you shall tour it in the sun!” he said, pride ringing in his voice.

  “Oh, but I enjoy the evening. I’ve never been much of a day person, my skin is so fair.” She sighed. They rounded a tall row of hedges. “What a charming gazebo!” Leslie exclaimed with glee and hurried inside. The interior of the open-air structure was a wide deck complete with a thickly padded seat strewn with cushions. “How delightful!”

  “I shall have to speak with my housekeeper. These aren’t to be left out at night,” Ignatio said distracted that the normally efficient staff had slipped a bit.

  “Oh, don’t.” Leslie pouted and looked up alluringly. “It is so much more comfortable this way.” Her laugh was a low, throaty sound purposefully pitched to act on his male hormones and bring Ignatio further under her vampire’s spell.

  The Count’s eyes searched hers and, though he joined her on the bench as Leslie asked him, Ignatio was not under her control, as she perceived. Their lips joined and he gathered her desirable, pliable body into his arms. Leslie was like a puff of pure, scented arousal. His lips moved quickly down to tease the soft flesh of her breasts through the lace of her gown.

  Leslie cried out. “Not so hard!” she protested. “I prefer a gentler touch,” Leslie said, as if she instructed an inexperienced lover. Ignatio’s response of a low, throaty laugh sent a rush of flame down her body.

  “Oh you do? I shall remember that.” His laugh sent a hot surge through her, because of the slight tremor he sensed her trying to quell. “I hate the gowns women wear.” His voice was husky with ardor and he peeled the lace from her breast with his teeth and allowed her nipples their freedom. Her quiet sigh was his reward, as he loosed the laces in the back of her bodice. That task accomplished, he allowed each full breast total freedom and he nuzzled them both tenderly rolling the nipples with his thumb. He exercised great restraint in his urge not to pinch them. That would come later.

  He allowed Leslie to strip his coat off, then his vest. With fire in his amber eyes, Ignatio watched as she opened the silk shirt he wore and returned the pleasure he had given her, nipping one of his nipples hard enough to bring a drop of blood only to suck and lick it away. Ignatio didn’t protest, but the fire in his eyes was burning fiercely when she looked up. His hands stroked her legs beneath her skirts and, to his surprise and delight, found she had not worn hose or undergarments of any kind. His surprise turned to pleasure when he looked into her mischievous eyes, now sparkling with merriment.

  “After last night,” she shrugged, “I must admit, milord, you pleasured me so well that I too, slept most of the day. Except the pleasure made me want you yet again. Just the thought of your mighty cock burrowing inside me leaves me weak, wet, and wanting more of you.”

  In abandon, Ignatio quickly tossed two pillows onto the wooden floor of the gazebo and gallantly knelt between her knees, spreading them as he arranged a bed of pillows behind and around her back. A wicked grin played upon his lips. “Then, milady, I will pleasure you even more.” He tossed her skirts over her head, which she pushed down enough to meet his strangely hypnotic eyes. “But, Leslie, you must allow me to do as I will,” Ignatio told her, as his fingers began to rhythmically stroke the thick hair outside of her cunny lips to tease her. Their eyes locked, Ignatio knew she wouldn’t–couldn’t–resist him. One finger found her wet vagina and almost entered her. She groaned and Ignatio knew she didn’t have the ability to deny him, at least not until he satisfied the hunger he had already aroused in her. His eyes watched her as desire spread over her pale features.

  Leslie was not sure when Ignatio had taken control over her, but he had. She would do anything he asked of her to keep him from denying her his masterful cock. Her sex was on fire. For the first time in over a hundred and fifty years, she forgot about blood as a primary drive. His fingers teased her clit, as he caressed her cunny lips, occasionally plucking a hair from her, causing her to jump and moans to escape her. She felt him gently pinch each nether lip between his fingers and pull them open. The cool night air on her hot and stimulated cunt caused Leslie to groan and her head to swim. She gasped when his mouth came down over her clit and she covered her mouth so as not to cry out in her pleasure and invite disaster, should one of the servants hear and investigate. She placed the other hand lightly atop his head, lest he leave, her fingers entwining in his heavy dark waves. She sighed, only to gasp again, when he pierced her with his tongue. She heard him chuckle at her reaction. Ignatio began a rhythm, several strokes with his tongue, then a gentle nip at the hood of her clit. After a few of these repetitions, Leslie sobbed in climax.

  “Oh, milord, take me now.” she begged, her voice a sob of heated desire.

  “Not yet,” Ignatio growled and inserted his middle finger deep inside her vagina. Leslie groaned as he moved it back and forth in her creamy cum, only to withdraw it and massage her puckered little anus with the lubricant.

  “No!” Leslie said firmly, her eyes wide.

  “As I will, remember?” Ignatio laughed harshly. “Relax, you will enjoy it.” Again, he drove his finger deep into her vagina then massaged her anus until she relaxed and gently started to enter her, she stiffened. “Relax,” he told her and lubricated his finger again. This time he fully inserted his finger inside her.

  Leslie moaned, amazed that the slight amount of discomfort caused such intense arousal. Scarlet spots glowed on her cheeks. Ignatio hungrily began to tug at her cunt lips with his teeth, inserting another finger in her vagina and brought Leslie to yet another climax. She didn’t believe it was possible to feel such pleasure, tears from his exquisite torture pooled in her eyes. She gulped air refusing to cry out.

  “Please, Ignatio,” she begged. “Take me now.” The tears she had held in-check streamed down her face.

  Ignatio’s look was intense and he could see a little fear in her eyes from his unexpected play as he drew his cock from his codpiece. It stood proudly erect and angry, because of its cruel captivity in his breeches. He leaned toward her, towering over her as if she were his victim, his eyes continued to hold hers. He rested an arm against the back of the gazebo bench for support. Now positioned to enter her tortured cunt, he leaned forward to take possession of her lips, the taste of her own musk on his mouth, as he merged with her body.


  Leslie was somehow afraid of him now, but that fear brought its own kind of excitement. It had been many years since a mere human male had compelled such feelings from her. Ignatio’s kiss tasted of her own cum, her wetness still fresh on his lips as he entered her body. Challenged, Leslie tried to match him and she did, with frenzy, as Ignatio drove her to meet his climax. Exhausted, they lay together for long minutes before they could straighten their clothes and return to the manor. Both retired to their separate rooms for the night, after heated goodnight kisses.

  Chapter Three

  Ravenously hungry from her sexual romp with Ignatio, Lady Leslie waited until the manor’s servants retired for the night before she sought her nightly nourishment. Under a ripening moon, she changed into a powerful great horned owl, soaring on the air currents of the cool night. Leslie found the ability to fly one of the most enjoyable of her powers. She could change into any animal she wished, a wolf was often a favorite, or a hawk, but the powerful hunter of the night skies fit her mood this evening. She took a deep breath, stepped from her bedroom window, and changed into the creature she visualized in her mind, feeling the exuberance of the transformation take her as she fell. Her full-feathered wings picked up the air currents and she glided moments before she would have hit the ground.

  She flew until she spotted Carloff waiting beside her carriage he had hidden just off the main road. Changing back into the beautiful woman she was as she landed, Leslie could feel Carloff’s eyes on her, his desire for her a burning fire in his eyes. Carloff assisted her into the conveyance but not before she tenderly touched his handsome face. Their eyes met briefly, Carloff held her blue eyes easily. Leslie realized he had become more than a servant to her. She settled into the seat, confident of the safety of the of Carloff’s care. She pondered her servant as they drove towards town. She knew little about the handsome young man who had so willingly come into her service and obeyed her every command without question. He spoke little, knew what she was though she had never tasted him, yet he had tasted her carnally and she briefly thought of the times he had satisfied her sexual needs. Leslie found it excited her thinking about him but her hunger grew sharp as they drew to a stop on the bawdy side of town. He assisted her to exit, and she began her hunt for her nightly nourishment.