Gift of the Nightflyer

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Gift of the Nightflyer Page 3

by Sultry Summers


  Leslie knew it was important to choose her victim with care. A woman of the streets, a thief, or a beggar, someone the public would not miss. With the blooms of spring heavy in the night air, Lady Leslie moved gracefully through the streets of the small city that belonged to Count Magonoff. From all appearances, he was a wealthy businessman, not just nobility.

  Loud laughter and music drew her attention to a tavern. A shabbily dressed man with his arm around a strumpet, a bottle in his free hand staggered out the open door. His bawdy singing and loud voice exhibited his drunken condition. Leslie unknowingly flicked her tongue daintily over her pale pink lips. She needed to feed and soon.

  “Come on, Surge!” the woman’s voice was rough, her accent attested to an uneducated background.

  “Lead the way, milady, with your beauty I’d follow you anywhere.” he took a long drink from his bottle and offered it to her, and she took a sip.

  Leslie wondered if she took a drink at all as she watched them cross the dirty, muddy main street. She laughed as she watched the strumpet maneuver the man she called Surge away from the bigger puddles and almost fell into one.

  “Surge, I’ll take you to me room upstairs.” She laughed and they walked directly toward Leslie, past her, and up the short stairs to the woman’s room, without seeing the beautiful vampire.

  When Leslie desired to, she could blend with the background. Leslie followed them up the stairs closely and moved through the door before they could close it, and settled on a chair almost in the closet. From here, she could watch until the time she could feed on her victims. Leslie watched Surge plop down on the woman’s bed, taking another hearty swig from his bottle, as the woman let her dress fall to the floor. For her profession, she was a beauty. Young and slender, yet her small breasts were firm and well shaped. Leslie’s mouth watered, her hunger gnawed. Leslie practiced patience but, she gave the girl credit, she knew her business. She watched the girl saunter over and stand between Surge’s legs, take his bottle, and set it on the bedside table. Leslie waited, expecting to see the man pass out or for the woman to turn down the lights, but to her surprise, and delight, neither happened.

  Leslie now sat motionless in the corner closet of the small room. It wasn’t so much that she was invisible, but she was surrounded with an aura that made her unnoticed to the minds of people such as these. Leslie loved to watch and, even after the wonderful affair with the Count, she was beginning to feel a familiar need causing wetness between her legs, despite her hunger.

  When Surge reached up to fondle the girl’s breasts, his rough dark hands made an erotic contrast against her pale white breasts. The strumpet placed her hands on his shoulders, closed her eyes to relax, and enjoy her occupation. He licked her nipples and lightly nipped at them. Leslie felt her own knees weaken and her cunt grow wetter from her voyeurism.

  “Ouch, Surge!” she popped him on the head, “be easy.” The girl’s protests brought back memories to Leslie of Ignatio’s roughness with her, and she felt a surge of heat race through her.

  Surge smirked, “Sorry, Lorra.”

  “Do it again and I’ll charge ya double for it,” not really minding the pain but always after an extra coin.

  They both laughed and Leslie smiled. Surge pulled the woman onto the bed and crawled over her. His rough hand going between her thighs he rubbed her roughly then pushed a finger inside her.

  “Got you wet, it did,” he said before he planted his mouth over hers inserting another finger inside her, at the same time smothering her gasp. Surge moved to suck her ripe breasts, pulling on her nipples with his lips this time, careful not to nip her, he couldn’t afford to pay double. He removed his fingers and replaced them with his long, swollen cock. Lorra wrapped her long legs around Surge pulling him in closer until his dick was fully inside her. Surge rode her well and groaned as she climaxed, not having to pretend. Surge reached his orgasm moments later, Lorra gasped, tremors running through her from the force of Surge’s ejaculation causing her to peak again.

  His size surprised Leslie and that in his condition he could still wield it. Leslie could smell the musk of their lovemaking and knew she too was sopping wet. She waited for her opportunity and knew it would have to wait until after the couples love play. Leslie’s blood hunger was biting now, and she was hungry for the Count’s long plump dick again, but feeding was her first concern.

  Surge satisfied Lorra well, although he was drunk, but before he could roll off her, he passed out on top of Lorra. She swore and tried to push Surge off, but his heavy body trapped her. Using her powers, Leslie caused the oil lamp to go out and quickly moved on the pair, first on Lorra who thought Surge had awakened. Leslie began stroking Lorra’s breasts.

  “Surge you’ll have to pay for two!” Lorra demanded.

  Leslie allowed Lorra to continue the illusion. She enjoyed caressing the girl’s small firm breasts. While she fed on Surge, she rolled Lorra’s nipples between her fingers. Moving her hand down to Lorra’s cunt, still wet from her earlier climax. Leslie began stimulating her again, until she moaned near orgasm. Leslie moved from Surge to Lorra as Lorra began to climax. Lorra would have cried out when Leslie’s fangs pierced her neck, if Surge had not been on top of her and had Leslie not brought her to climax as she drank from her. Leslie didn’t kill either of her victims; however, she left them both unconscious. They had provided such good entertainment. Leslie decided to let them live. Besides, there would be fewer questions this way.

  With her hunger for blood satiated, Lady Leslie returned to the Count’s manor not long before dawn. Carloff let her into the house quietly, escorting her to her rooms. Normally she would have gone to rest; but after watching the two she had fed on, and her arousal of the woman as she fed, Leslie drew her young driver into her room, as she sometimes did when she was stimulated. Carloff had been with her for a short time; however, he knew her secrets and served her well in his devotion. Young, brawny, and handsome, Leslie would caress his well-endowed penis boldly and rarely did more than present herself to him in a leaning position and he would service her as she needed.

  Carloff knew what his Mistress wanted and was eager to please the beautiful lady vampire he loved. He would pleasure her in whatever manner she desired. From working with the horses and the carriage, Carloff’s hands were rough and when he slid a calloused hand over her sensitive labia, he heard Leslie gasp, then moan. Carloff chuckled and rubbed the head of his cock against his Mistress’ heated sex. He slipped his massive member into her wet vagina slowly, filling her to the top as he held her slender hips. Slowly he built his tempo, until he roughly slammed into her from behind rapidly and for many minutes.

  “My Lady,” Carloff gasped and slipped a powerful arm around her waist, “your body is perfect.” He found release in her beautiful body while her powerful vaginal muscles clamped down on his throbbing cock as he came, only his stamina kept him from collapsing. He caught his breath and withdrew from the body he worshipped; and, as was his duty, had already prepared her bath beforehand.

  “Thank you, Carloff.” Leslie presented him with her warmest smile as he assisted her into the comfortable, warm tub.

  “Allow me.” Carloff gently sponged his Mistress’ body then dried her with a large warm bath sheet.

  “Thank you, Carloff.” Leslie yawned. Carloff is a good servant, she thought, as she climbed into bed and fell asleep, a smile playing on her lips. One day she would bestow her gift on him, she felt he deserved it.

  The Count arose more at his accustomed time the next day and hoped Lady Leslie would join him for breakfast; but when she failed to appear, he went about his normal routine. Lunch passed and still Lady Leslie had not risen. He became concerned and tentatively knocked on her door.

  “Lady Leslie?” Ignatio called “Mademoiselle, are you awake?”

  “Forgive my poor manners, my lord Count. I fear I have a terrible headache, even the slightest sunlight is piercing.” Leslie said through a slightly open door.

  Ign
atio was immediately concerned. Already he was strongly attracted to this beautiful young woman and he found she bent to his sexual preferences easily. It had been a long time since he had a woman companion. His Alexis had enjoyed their love play games and Ignatio hoped Leslie would too. “Shall I send for a doctor?”

  “No.” Leslie allowed her voice to sound weak. “I occasionally get these headaches. I should be up by dinner.”

  “I shall leave you to rest. Summon a maid should you need anything.”

  “Thank you, milord. You are most kind, Ignatio.” she managed a weak smile.

  Shortly before dinner, as the sun slipped behind the Carpathian Mountains, Lady Leslie slowly descended the stairs to join Ignatio. The Count gallantly went to assist her and Leslie smiled her thanks. Ignatio found he could not draw his eyes from the deep pink empress gown cut daringly low with only thin lace provocatively obscuring her breasts. He remembered those rosebud nipples and the golden chain with a rose quartz pendant Leslie wore only served to tease him and inflame his imagination.

  “You are so kind, Ignatio.” Leslie looked up at him with warm eyes and allowed him to escort her to the dinner table.

  “I hope your headache is better.” he commented, noticing she ate little.

  “Thank you, yes, it is much better. My physician calls these headaches migraines, because the pain moves and affects my eyes. Sunlight is especially painful,” Leslie explained.

  After dinner they strolled in the moonlight, but Ignatio didn’t press her, instead he gently kissed her pale pink lips and temples where she said the pain had been most of the time. As they turned back toward the house, Leslie leaned her head on Ignatio’s shoulder, putting his arm around her shoulders; he guided her until they reached the terrace. He escorted her to the drawing room where they shared a small glass of sherry and Lady Leslie complained of the headache returning. That’s what I get for feeding from a drunken man, she thought.

  “You’re coloring is pale, allow me to see you to your room.” With his strong arm around her, they started toward the stairs but just before reaching them, Lady Leslie’s legs gave and the Count swept her into his arms, carrying her upstairs to her door. His eyes straying to look down her cleavage where the quartz pendant had taken residence.

  “Do not leave me alone tonight,” she pleaded weakly, opening her blue eyes to gaze innocently up at him.

  Ignatio kissed her, his lips lingered, and he turned with her high in his strong arms and took her instead to his own bed. “I will leave you only long enough to fetch a sleeping gown for you,” he told her.

  “No!” she protested weakly. “I shan’t need it. Stay.”

  “You are sure? Your headache?” Ignatio asked his eyes greedy.

  “Will be cured by your lovemaking,” she said. “Where you take me when you love me is…healing.”

  Count Magonoff smiled tenderly, but passion burned in his eyes. Slowly he removed his jacket trousers and unbuttoned several buttons on his fine linen shirt.

  “Allow me,” he said, deftly turning Lady Leslie over. He untied the laces on her gown and helped her out of the deep pink frock. She lay on the bed in a white lace chemise. He pulled the gold clips from her hair, allowing it to flow around her shoulders like a heavy blonde curtain. Ignatio drew a long lock to his nose and smelled the rose and musk scent. He gathered her close, kissing her lips then nibbling on her earlobes and wrapped her in his arms as shivers shook her body.

  “It has been so long, Leslie…” Ignatio said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Surely not since you’ve had a woman?” she said with a bit of amusement.

  “No–but since I’ve…wanted someone,” Ignatio told her and drew back to look into her eyes. “Stay with me? I don’t care about your past. I want you to stay.”

  Leslie covered his lips before he could say more, she did not want to refuse a possible marriage proposal. Their kissing intensified. His teeth tugging at her lips brought back memories of last night and the heights of pleasure he had propelled her to. She sucked on his tongue, thinking of how she would take the second bite tonight. He moaned when she released his mouth. Stopping only briefly to draw her lace chemise off her slender, rounded form; her breasts peaked, aroused, and stood proud and defiant. Leslie reveled in the way Ignatio’s penis stood when he stared at her, stretched out lithely on the quilt of his huge bed.

  Leslie was by any measure perfectly made for a man’s hand, Ignatio thought. He found himself wishing to have her under his complete control. Ignatio smiled, but didn’t realize that some of his thoughts transferred to his eyes. Starting at her feet, he kissed her toes, then her long legs. Using his hands before his lips, he spread her legs and found her blonde nest of curls wet with love’s fluid, the scent of rose and musk mixed with her body’s scent filling his head, sending him reeling! Gently he touched his tongue to her clitoris, teasing, each of his hands holding her dainty, pouting, purple labia open. When he had known her long enough, he would give her a pair of rings for these lips, he thought. She wouldn’t like that…at first…certainly not the night he would bestow them on her. He licked tenderly and heard Leslie gasp. Her fingers ran through his heavy dark hair as he pleasured her cunt with his mouth and his hands fondled her heavy breasts. Leslie’s scent was driving him and he touched the tip of his tongue to the outer edge of her vagina, slowly inserting it into her wet canal, not knowing that for him, it was hell’s gate. He pulled her cunt lips further apart, stretching them. Her hands suddenly stopped him.

  “You pull too hard, Ignatio,” Leslie protested. Their eyes met and Leslie wondered who was truly in command.

  “Last night you protested and I told you then, and I tell you now, you will do as I say.” His voice sounded amused but commanding. “Use your hands yourself, if you must, but you will leave them there until I say differently.” Ignatio smiled and took her small hand, lightly moving one over her vulva. Leslie gasped, but he did not let up his pull on her cunny lips. “You have never explored yourself?” he asked.

  “No!” Leslie admitted, never in all the years she had lived had she thought to do that. She always found a man to sate her desires. Leslie amazed herself and blushed.

  Ignatio smiled slyly. “Oh, but you must!” He moved her delicate fingers over her own sex teaching her, she moaned. “Now Leslie, put a finger inside your cunt.”

  “No!” She protested, embarrassed that she had brought herself pleasure, but he insistently pushed one of her dainty fingers inside her vagina. Soon his finger joined hers but only to lubricate it until he inserted it into her still tight anus. “No more,” she gasped, pleading to be allowed to stop.

  “Not yet, Leslie, not until you cum,” Ignatio told her. “You must learn to pleasure yourself, Leslie. I shall enjoy watching from time-to-time.” Onward he pushed her to pleasure herself until she begged him for mercy from the ecstasy she brought herself. But Ignatio afforded her no mercy.

  Ignatio could not restrain his own need any longer. He positioned himself over Leslie to look deeply into her eyes, hypnotized. She was unusually pale except for the scarlet spots on her cheeks. His engorged cock was poised to enter her. Leaning forward, he kissed her, pushing his cock slowly into her body, only to withdraw it teasingly.

  “Please, Ignatio, please,” Leslie sobbed.

  After only a few of his powerful thrusts, Ignatio saw a lecherous gleam in Leslie’s eyes. Suddenly she rolled them both over, surprising him with her sudden strength.

  “Now, I will pleasure you as you have me,” Leslie told him with an evil gleam in her eye.

  “What are you about, girl?” He questioned, amazed at her. Only moments ago, she had been a total slave to him.

  “I was raised by a Hindu nanny,” she lied smoothly, “who taught me the ways that their women pleasured their men.” Her face changed and became unsure. “If you do not like this…I will stop.” Slowly she lowered her face to his pulsing cock, wet with her cum and gently blew on the engorged head, causing Ignatio to gasp. She gently k
issed the head of his penis, licking the wetness. He moaned, Leslie opened her mouth, careful to cover her fangs with her pale lips, and drew him in. When Leslie knew he was ready to climax, she withdrew his engorged penis from her mouth and let her delicate hands continued the rhythm her warm lips had begun. Now she unsheathed her fangs and pierced the vital vein that flowed next to his groan, while she gently but firmly pumped his dick. Leslie drew his blood in long delicious gulps. Blood so sweet she almost went too far until she felt him climax, his moaning brought her to climax, which as Ignatio had instructed, she aided with her own hand. Leslie again covered his penis with her mouth to drink down each precious drop of his cum. Careful to leave no traces of blood on the white sheets she kissed her half-conscious Count.

  “Sleep, my love, and recover from our love play. In two nights the moon will be full and on that night I have a great gift for you, my Count.” Leslie left him sleeping soundly.

  Ignatio slept the entire next day and night to awaken at the dawn of the second day and eat an enormous breakfast. Still tired he refused to waste a beautiful morning and was determined to enjoy it for some unfathomable reason. After a deep breath of the crisp morning air, he decided a ride was what he wanted and ordered his horse saddled. He loved the fine stallion, between them there had developed a bond of affection. Ignatio had raised him from birth and still owned his mother. He had named the colt Thor because when he ran, even at an early age, his hooves sounded like thunder. He strode up to Thor but the animal cast him a wild look and shied away.

  “Thor,” Ignatio’s voice was soft, caressing, as it would be with a lover, and he held out his customary treat, an apple, yet Thor would not come close. “Thor, my pet, what is it?” Count Ignatio wondered if possibly some of Lady Leslie’s perfume lingered on his clothes, perhaps making Thor jealous. Horses were known to become that familiar with their masters and; of course, he had not taken Thor out in several days. No amount of coaxing would convince the horse to be mounted.

 

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