Vampire's Embrace: A Vampire Queen Series Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  Don’t worry, sweet nurse. Part of the art of this is playing with his mind. If he gets worried enough about what might happen, a smack with a riding crop will feel like a barbed cat o’ nine to him. Though I have used that on him. When I sipped from the blood of his cuts, he came all over himself like a schoolboy. He needs the pain. Enjoys it. I don’t give him more than does him good, though. I won’t let him cross that threshold.

  Opening a tall armoire made of glossy dark wood, Alistair gestured her over to it with a tilt of his head. She drew closer, uncertain but curious. Some things she didn’t recognize, but their erotic potential could captivate the mind. He had plenty of tools she did recognize. Whips, floggers, paddles, canes. Her backside throbbed at the memories they evoked.

  Other parts of her throbbed at the image Alistair placed in her mind. I’ve got a barbed cushion with a center vibrating piece, a phallus with a clitoral stimulator. Put you down on it, you’ll come even as you’re going mad with the feeling of those tiny needles pricking your arse. As you come, you writhe, no help for it, and it all becomes one impossible tangle of reaction. I’ll stroke myself to release, just from watching you endure it. But for now…

  Had she said he kept her from getting lost in her head? That wasn’t exactly correct. He kept her from getting lost in her head by herself, with thoughts she didn’t want to have.

  “She’s the exact right weapon to teach you a lesson, Stanley,” Alistair said. His tone was hard, but the heat in his gaze, the way he looked at her, showed his pleasure with her distraction.

  I’ll have to think about whether I want to use that cushion on you after your spanking. That could be intriguing. But let’s handle Stanley first.

  He lifted an item off a backboard in the armoire. Taking the mix of rubber and straps to an occasional chair, he sat down, his knees spread, before gesturing Nina to him.

  As she complied, she recognized what he had. It had never been used on her, but she’d been instructed in its existence and function. The female teachers had made good use of them with both male and female trainees.

  It was a strap-on, outfitted with a rubber cock shape equal to Stanley’s own aroused size. Alistair didn’t unhook her skirt. Instead, he pulled a folding knife from his pocket, one so sharp that when he ran the blade down the center line of the skirt in front, the fabric parted as if he’d used sewing shears.

  She was still without knickers. Working beneath the now slit skirt, Alistair put the straps over her hips and sex, fastening the harness and adjusting the straps efficiently. When he tightened it, the pressure had her lips parting. As did his fingers, brushing her inner thighs, her hips and buttocks. The rubber shaft jutted out from the slit in the skirt, and he gave the look an approving nod, caressing her upper thighs as she swayed into his touch. Her sex throbbed in the compression of straps that ran between her thighs and up between her arse cheeks.

  “You should see her, Stanley. Her sweet little body in a short skirt and a thin blouse that shows off the lace of her bra. Her nipples are tight with excitement.”

  She bit her lip as Alistair brushed his knuckles over one. His gaze held hers, registering her reaction, even as he continued to speak. “All of her feminine and dainty, except for that thick, punishing dick she’ll drive into your insolent arse to teach you manners.”

  His tone changed, became deceptively casual. “Should we have mercy on him and use lubricant, or would you prefer to ram into him dry? Hmm…dry it is. I don’t blame you a bit. He was a horse’s arse to you. Well, have at it then, whenever you’re ready.”

  Stanley made a noise that could have been outrage or cheek. Alistair slanted her a devilish smile, producing a tube of unscented lubricant he uncapped silently. After dipping his fingers into it, he liberally coated the dildo. The oil would get on her clothing, but based on his treatment of her skirt, she expected he wasn’t worried about the cost of replacing them.

  He’d left her clothed, and armed her, in a manner of speaking. Against Stanley at least.

  Sitting where he was, her breasts were at eye level, outlined in the blouse as he’d described. Alistair reached out, traced the curve of one with one long finger. Slow, meditative. Her breathing hitched again.

  I love how responsive you are, Nina. The Mistress knows her business, but she has to have the raw material.

  He slipped one button, two, so the blouse was open below the bra. He dipped his fingers into her cleavage, let a fingertip follow her breast inside the cup of the bra, so close to the nipple it tightened further.

  Nina watched him. Felt the heat of his breath against her skin. He lifted his gaze back to her face, logging her reactions. Inside and out, she expected, since he was in her head.

  He left her blouse like that and rose. Drawing her over to Stanley, he picked up a step stool on the way, one tucked behind the more comfortable furnishings. It was adjustable, and Alistair was obviously practiced in its use, because after he adjusted the height and handed her onto the top platform, she saw it put her at the right level to push that dildo right between Stanley’s tense, tight buttocks.

  She didn’t know if she could do this. She wasn’t even sure how to do it, but Alistair moved behind her and put his hands to her hips, his thumbs pressing into her buttocks, against the thin skirt.

  Trust me to lead, Nina. Get out of your head and into the moment.

  “He’s all yours, Nina,” Alistair said aloud. “He’s one of the naughty boys in your ward, the one who tries to grab your arse every time you come by and looks down your blouse. Who makes crude comments about fucking you when he thinks you’re not around, but actually knows you are, because he wants you to hear. He’s begging for your punishment, needing you to teach him better manners. He needs your firm hand, Nina.”

  For every moment you’ve felt out of control of your destiny, sweet nurse, take it back now. Take it out on his fine, fine arse, and I promise you he will be nothing but grateful. He will burst with gratitude.

  And you? What will you be?

  The thought had no ready answer. Entertained? Intrigued? Sexually satisfied and nothing more, like pushing away from a table after a good meal.

  He’d said get out of her head, but she wasn’t sure she could do that. He hadn’t answered her unspoken question, leaving her nothing but what was before her. He had his hands on her hips, ready to guide her, but he wasn’t pushing her to go right to buggering the bound male. Which left her time to consider her options.

  Except for the night with The Mistress, she’d had a month of no options, only the mandate that she do what she was ordered to do. Now she’d been given only two restrictions. Get out of her head, and find her own path.

  She settled tentative fingers on Stanley’s shoulder blade, followed the elegant line of it, the straining muscles. Down to the lower back. Turning her hand, she trailed her knuckles over his rib cage, the same track Alistair had covered. Stanley quivered in his chains, said something obviously uncomplimentary against the gag.

  Alistair’s hand left her side. Fortunately, he wasn’t moving at vampire speed, so she intercepted the smart slap he’d intended to land against the side of Stanley’s head. She gripped his wrist, her slim fingers overlapping his forearm.

  What did he say? She asked in his head. How peculiar to be able to do that, and have an immediate response, all of it done right here with Stanley, but him able to hear none of it. And how can you understand him?

  He said, ‘Get on with it, stupid human bitch.’ I’ve imposed the blood link of a sire, so I can be in his head. He can try to block me, but to be even marginally successful at it takes focus and practice. Maturity and strength of will. He’s as disciplined as a fawn cavorting through a field of flowers, the blighter.

  She nodded. And thought about what else Alistair had said about Stanley.

  A nasty, bottomless need to be punished.

  She remembered a soldier brought into the hospital. He’d panicked, hadn’t been able to pull it together and be there for his mat
es. Instead, he’d ended up curled in a fox hole, screaming for an end to the noise of the guns. When he was brought to the hospital for evaluation, he’d laid open his arms with the cut glass from a cup of juice one of the nurses had left with him. Not an attempt to cut his wrists. He hated himself so much he wouldn’t give himself that out. Just kept slicing his flesh, until she and the other nurse had to wrestle his arms down, restrain him. The two of them had been painted with blood when it was done.

  As she’d bent over his wrist, using strips of gauze to tie him to the bed rails, he’d swiped his fingertips over her cheek. Since his hands were still bloody, it had left a stripe there like war paint. The man’s fevered eyes had rested on her as he spoke in a harsh voice.

  “Braver soldier than I am.”

  Perhaps Stanley did have a nasty, bottomless need to be punished. But if he did, it connected to another need. A need to be loved. To be forgiven. To find a peace inside himself that eluded him when he wasn’t like this.

  She could understand that. They all three could. She thought of that abyss in Alistair’s eyes. She leaned in, propping a hand on Stanley’s shoulder as she spoke in his ear, brushing her cheek against the straps of the gag and eye mask, reminding him of their presence.

  “This stupid human bitch is in control of you right now, Stanley. I’ll do as I wish with you, and you can do nothing, can you, mate?”

  She gripped the shaft of the dildo, pressed the tip of it between his buttocks, finding his opening. Sex this way might not be familiar to her, but the angle of a man’s arse certainly was, and how those internal muscles released to allow objects to penetrate.

  He was tight, holding himself against her. She would have eased her way in, but her Master had a different idea of how to handle the situation. Snaking a hand around her and Stanley to hold the three of them flush against one another, Alistair pressed his torso against her arse. Using that and the hold around Stanley’s waist, he thrust her past the two sets of muscles with brutal force.

  Even with lubricant, she knew it hurt, for Stanley stiffened and made a noise between a cry and a moan.

  “Don’t think you heard her clearly, mate,” Alistair advised. “She’s going to bugger your arse good. She can make it enjoyable, or I can make it utter hell. Up to you.”

  Stanley snarled something against the dildo, and Alistair chuckled darkly. “Hell it is.”

  I’d rather go a different way. If you meant it, about this being up to me.

  She looked back at Alistair. He’d wrapped his fingers around hers to ensure he’d chosen the right angle for his forceful penetration, but at her silent entreaty, he released his grip there, returned his hands to her hips.

  I did. What do you have in mind, sweet nurse?

  Actions made more sense than deeds right now. Slowly, slowly, she drew the phallus almost all the way out of Stanley’s arse. Then she slowly pushed back in, the lubricant greasing her way. He was still tight, but now she thought that was physical, the narrowness of the channel, not active resistance.

  He’s got a tight little arse, that’s for sure, Alistair confirmed it.

  Stanley had braced for a pounding, his shoulders quivering, but she drew out slow again. She returned at the same pace, but going as deep as she could, with an extra push that earned an uncertain grunt from him. Alistair picked up the rhythm easily and helped with that extra push.

  As she kept going, she turned her attention to the hand she had resting on Stan’s shoulder. As she pushed in this time, she began to dig her nails into his flesh. Harder, deeper. Her nails had the ability to cut, or make him feel as if he were cut. More of the mind play Alistair had suggested.

  She could feel his attention on everything she was doing. His thumbs were lightly caressing her buttocks, a sensual encouragement as her hips pressed forward and came back. He tightened his fingers on them, a reminder of his closeness and presence. She hadn’t needed much instruction, but she needed his touch to do this right. She wondered if he’d expected that, because she hadn’t.

  Leaning in, she wrapped her arm around Stanley’s bare chest, her hand on his heart, over the top edge of the scar there. And dug her nails into it.

  He dropped his head back, much as he had with Alistair. He strangled on a groan. Whatever he said now still had belligerence, but there was a note of desperation to it, too. An improvement.

  What did he say?

  Harder, faster. Stop teasing me with your little girl thrusts. They’re not doing shite for me.

  She tsked. “Still haven’t learned, Stanley. It’s about what I want. And you’re a liar. She dropped her hand, wrapped it around his cock. “A big, fat liar.”

  She played, caressing the ridged head, rubbing her thumb in his wet slit, using that lubrication to stroke the taut vein running along the bottom of his shaft. She put pressure on it, right beneath the head, and held that grip as she pushed in again, drew out. Pushed in, drew out.

  Stanley was getting more agitated. Emotionally. His fingers clawed at the chains, gripped. He tried to lift his lower body, she supposed in an attempt to kick out, away from her.

  Alistair was able to reach the armoire without taking a steadying hand from her, and withdrew another handful of cords from it. As Stanley protested against the gag, Alistair moved from her to wrap the cords beneath his knees and worked a rig that drew them up. It was as if Stanley was sitting on a chair, only his bent legs were in the air, where they provided him no leverage against Nina. The new position changed the angle, and while Nina enjoyed Stanley’s deepening groans as she pressed in deeper, the nurse side of her was concerned.

  His shoulders…

  He’s a vampire, Nina. He can handle the strain without permanent injury. And he won’t be hanging for much longer.

  When Alistair came to stand behind her again, he lifted her blouse in the back. As he began to kiss a line up her spine, another swirl of sensations bloomed throughout her and across her flesh. He rubbed his face against her skin, breathed against it, and she closed her eyes at the intimacy, struggling with the feelings that rose within her.

  Fortunately, Stanley provided a distraction. He was getting closer to a point of decision. Wrapping her arms around him, she ground her hips against his arse, digging deep with the rubber phallus.

  She whispered what came to mind. The message she’d given to so many souls, stranded on a sea of cots.

  “We’re here, Stanley. I’m here. Sshhh…I’m here...be still. Inside and out. Be still. Let it go. Quiet. We’re in a womb. No need for anything to be done or said. It’s all here.”

  Alistair’s mouth lifted from her skin. She felt his gaze upon her, but she kept her focus on Stanley. As she repeated different versions of the same words, she felt it. That connection she’d worried she’d never get the opportunity to feel again. That moment when she found the right note of emotional reassurance the patient needed, to help with their physical healing. To help them get through the pain, to go just a little further. To believe they could survive a world full of unimaginable horrors.

  The younger vampire made another noise, and there was no mistaking the word he said this time, though she liked hearing it from Alistair’s mind.

  He said please. The bugger can be taught.

  Please what?

  Just please. It covers everything, doesn’t it?

  It did, sometimes. She made a humming noise against Stanley’s shoulder, pushed her hips a little harder against his arse, became more demanding as she issued the next directive.

  “Next time you come into Lord Alistair’s home, you will be courteous and polite,” she said in her most no-nonsense Matron-like voice. “To him, to me. If you cannot behave, you will not be allowed to come. In any way you wish to interpret that.”

  Stanley choked on a half chuckle. It made her smile.

  Once, a smile had been something easy. Casual, sometimes genuine, other times just polite, or a reflex. Now, the smiles she remembered were those that had happened in extraordinary situati
ons, where a smile was something just short of a miracle. But those were the smiles that took one by surprise, made the unbearable bearable. They had ten times the value and weight of gold. How many times had a soft smile crossed her face, remembering Alistair in the caretaker’s cottage?

  “If my dainty little InhServ makes you come, Stanley, I’ll give you the hardest, most painful arse-fucking in your life. So learn a little self-control, mate.”

  Make him come, Nina. I want to see him unable to resist your touch. Wrap those lovely fingers around him and don’t take no for an answer.

  When she hesitated, he answered her unspoken worry. I won’t be hurting him more than he desires, sweet nurse. Do it.

  Alistair had his steel organ pressed firmly against the base of her buttocks, taut from standing on the stool. When he rubbed against her, her body quivered. She lowered her hand to Stanley’s groin again, circling the base of his shaft and tightening her grip, earning another groan. As she began to work him in her palm, her fingers twitched and played along him, circling, stroking, squeezing. She began that slow withdraw and thrust again.

  Alistair moved his hands to her arse, cupping her buttocks beneath the skirt, adding more force to her movements. His thumbs played along the seam between her arse cheeks. Her breath quickened and body dampened further. Her pulse rate accelerated as each push against Stanley pressed the strap-on against her clit.

  You better not come, either, my lovely servant. That climax belongs to me. You’ll scream out your pleasure when I take your virginity, and all of it will be your gift to me. Your Master, even if you’re not yet permitted to call me that.

  Won’t call you that, she managed. Not unless you order me to do it.

  “Be careful of lines you draw in quicksand,” Alistair murmured against her flesh before he scored her with his fangs. She gasped, thrust harder, and Stanley let out a futile snarl against his gag. His cock jumped in her hand, and his seed started to pump out, his body rocking hard against her.