by K D Grace
‘Sure,’ I told her.
‘You’re jealous of a doll, Larry, a fucking doll!’ Casey, as I’d expected, was furious with my actions. Having returned from a not too successful day in the city she’d suspected immediately that all was not well.
‘It’s staying there, Casey …’
‘Her name’s Mary, Mary! How fucking hard is it?’ In all our time together I’d never seen her so angry.
‘Whatever you’ve chosen to call it, it’s staying in the cellar until I decide otherwise.’
Casey looked at me, the fire gone from her eyes to be replaced by something far colder.
‘You’re being ridiculous; I’m going to get her out.’ She began to stride out of the room but my next words stopped her.
‘I’ve locked the door and have put the key in a safe place so forget it,’ I told her flatly.
Slowly, she turned to face me; ‘You’re jealous of anything and everything that I love, Larry, well let me tell you, this was one thing you should’ve left well alone.’ Her voice was strangely calm and with what I took to be a smile, she turned and left the room.
The scraping sound coming from somewhere below me in the house, roused me from my troubled sleep but fell silent once I opened my bleary eyes, causing me to doubt I’d heard anything at all. To my left the sleeping form of Casey appeared still and doll-like under the faint moonlight coming through the window.
I intended getting out of bed, to at least head out on to the landing to listen for further sounds but I felt so tired, more so than I can ever remember being and listen as I might I nevertheless drifted back into sleep, unable to resist, as though something were pulling me back …
… to awaken to further sounds once again.
Casey’s half of the bed was cold.
More sounds were coming from below, scraping sounds followed by loud thumps that the perpetrator made no attempt to conceal. Suddenly alert I reached into the cabinet next to my side of the bed to pull out the small tin where I’d placed the cellar key and knew before I’d opened it that the key was no longer in my possession.
‘Casey!’ I shouted her name as I leaped from the bed, headed across the room and out through the door into the dark hallway, where I stood motionless, listening.
Minimal moonlight shone through the small window at the far end of the hallway and to the left of the window the wooden stairway led down to the living area of the house and below this level, the cellar.
The loud clomping footsteps came from the solid wood stairs just to the left of the hallway, moments away from reaching the landing on which I was standing and I froze where I stood, my eyes wide as I desperately tried to see into the gloom.
Two figures emerged from the stairway and into the hallway, their features silhouetted by the moonlight coming in from the window behind them. Side by side, as though each supported the other, they slowly ambled towards me.
‘Casey, is that you?’ I spoke into the darkness as I scrambled for the light switch.
‘Of course it’s me.’
I felt relief to hear Casey’s voice but there was something wrong, she sounded strangely excited. I flicked the switch and light filled the hallway. Casey and Mary walked slowly towards me and although Casey held on to the other in support, Mary’s legs moved unaided as she took slow steps towards me.
‘What the hell …’ My head swam with confusion, was this some kind of joke?
‘Look, Larry, look what Mary can do,’ Casey said, her voice betraying the pride she felt.
I looked from Mary’s legs to her face. Those eyes looked directly into my face and there was life in those eyes and something more … anger … hatred.
I wanted to back away, to shut myself in our bedroom but found I couldn’t move. While Mary’s legs had found life mine it seemed would no longer respond.
Mary’s footsteps quickened, each step resounding upon the wooden floor as she stepped ahead of Casey and began to raise her arms in her eagerness to reach me.
Dancer in the dark
by Scarlett Blue
I looked the client in the eyes and he was entranced immediately. Some are easier than others, and sexual excitement leaves all the channels open and lets me get in straight away. Luckily for me this is an area I excel in.
‘You had too much to drink tonight, you don’t remember much, but you’ll feel fine tomorrow. You’ll buy your girlfriend some flowers and take her out somewhere nice. And throw that shirt away, it really doesn’t do much for you.’
I rubbed the puncture marks on his neck as I spoke, holding his gaze as they closed up. There would still be a mark, but nothing too noticeable. I dropped the eye contact and licked the last drops of blood from around his collar, and, stepping back from him, picked my knickers up off the floor and started to get dressed.
He stammered, no longer under a supernatural trance but still under the powerful hold that all women have over men.
‘Can I have another dance?’
‘Of course, baby.’ I lifted my leg on to his thigh, digging my glass heel into his flesh and proffering my garter. He knotted a twenty into the black elastic, lingering his touch on my leg as he did so, and staring at my barely covered pussy under the skimpy mesh.
I lifted his chin and looked into his eyes again.
‘I think I’m worth a bit more than that, don’t you?’
He smiled. It was almost natural, almost as if he really wanted to empty his wallet and give me just over a hundred pounds for three minutes work.
I kicked his legs apart and started to grind. As if by magic a heavy rock song came on. And of course it was magic. Did I mention I’ve got the DJ under control without even having to look at her? Even for a human she’s exceptionally weak willed. Submissive. Enjoys being dominated. I only have to think her name, Chantal, and she’s mine.
The client’s eyes roved over me as I peeled off my bra again, and pushed my breasts in his face. I straddled him and pushed my pussy against his crotch, feeling his cock pressing against his jeans in the futile hope that it might get inside me. I pulled at his shirt and scratched his chest, but avoided drawing blood. It was 5 a.m. dawn was coming and if I ate too much I’d get sleepy before my shift was over.
I stood up and backed away from the client, leaving him bereft with a moan of longing as the physical contact ended, which turned into a moan of pleasure as the visual gorging started. I rubbed my breasts, and turned around, spreading my legs. I bent over, in no hurry, and pulled the skimpy thong aside, slipping a finger inside my pussy. He leaned and tried to lick me and I looked over my shoulder and hissed, showing my fangs. He backed off. It was reckless of me but he was so intoxicated he wouldn’t remember anyway. Humans are fucked up.
I pulled my knickers down and faced him, throwing my foot over his head, my pussy inches from his face. Boring play things they are but their admiration does something to me and I felt pangs of the other hunger. Not with him, though. The song ended and he asked for more but I was bored. I looked deep again.
‘You really want to go home now. And remember to take your girlfriend out tomorrow.’
He left. Happy, penniless, and rather stupid. I walked into the main club, garishly bright after being in the private dance room. The Barbie dolls were all still hard at work trying to squeeze the last few notes out of the wallets of the drunk, the desolate, and the dirty. A man in the corner locked on to me straight away. I do stand out a bit, being pale, obviously, with dark hair in a sea of blonde and tan and little neon outfits. I’m not the only vampire in this club, but I’m the only one who looks like one. Black, PVC, lace, tattoos; why mess with a stereotype when it looks so good?
I caught his gaze and my thoughts drowned out the music.
Come with me.
He stood and walked towards me. Six foot six, broad shouldered, stubbly and rough, he looked like supper and a dirty fuck all rolled into one. I like to leave them with some memory of sex with me, just so no mortal will ever measure up. Cruel, possibly, but for
so many men I’m the best they’ve ever had, and who could resist that accolade? And this one looked like he could be the best I’d ever had. I caught his scent as he followed me into the private room and pulled the tasselled curtain across. Musky and masculine, coupled with an unhurried and confident way of moving. My teeth and nails tingled, and I was getting wet. I wanted to hurt him, to feed on him, eat him, and have him inside me. I felt greedy, and slightly out of control. I knew I had to be careful, as any screams – mine or his – would have security in here, and I’d have to wipe several memories at once, which can get tricky.
The man sat himself on the couch, confident to the point of cocky, and handed me a fifty. I pushed it away and climbed on his lap, slightly faster than I meant to but still within the realms of human movement. He was hard but somehow didn’t have that urgent air about him that men with an erection usually have. His hands strayed to my legs, and up, on to my back, pulling me to him. I don’t usually go for this touchy stuff, but his hands were strong and overpowering. He pulled off my bra and I was so hot for him, his hands running over my breasts, then up and into my hair, pulling me close.
I pushed his head back and sought his vein, licking to start with, then nicking his skin just slightly, testing him. It tasted of a memory I had pushed down so deep, of my own transformation. If my blood hadn’t already been cold, it would have run cold at tasting that.
Before I knew what was happening he was out of his seat. I was flung onto the couch, face down, him holding me easily, and for the first time in a hundred years, I felt vulnerable. And bittersweet it was. My initial rage at being manhandled gave way to an old feeling, one lost for so long – that of being a woman in the arms of a man. But it was fleeting, and with all my energy I fought him, and we flew backwards through both sets of curtains into another booth. I landed on top of him.
‘What the fuck are you?’
He smiled, and kissed me on the mouth. It was heavenly, if I can be permitted to use such a word.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’
And with that I was in his clutches completely. He moved faster and stronger than a human but he was too warm for a vampire and he was definitely pulsing. As he tore at my clothes his blood ran stronger, throbbing at his wrists and neck.
My hands slipped inside his clothes. If anything he was even warmer than a normal person. And definitely harder.
I was bent forwards over the couch and he pulled my legs apart. He tore the flimsy lap dancer underwear away as if it were nothing, and started licking my pussy from behind. He was hungry, gripping at my legs and pulling me wider. In one motion he was off his knees and entered me roughly, making me scream out. His thrusts were lightning fast, his hands gripping handfuls of my hair, and I came hard and wet and so did he.
We sprawled forward, tangled, onto the couch, and for a split second, there was that feeling again; feminine, protected. I pushed it away and looked into his eyes and held his thoughts in my gaze.
Tell me what you are.
‘That won’t work on me either.’
Well, this was new. I briefly considered the dangers of tangling with unknown, incredibly strong and totally irresistible supernatural creatures at 5 a.m. on a Sunday when I should have been getting to sleep, but, well, irresistible is the key word in that sentence.
‘So, I take it you drink?’ I asked him, showing just a glimmer of the tips of my fangs.
‘I thought you’d never ask.’
I moved at vampire speed to gather up my stuff in the changing room. A couple of girls emerged from sharing a joint in the toilet cubicle, and though I was moving too fast for them to see, they felt the draughts and heard the scuffles, and commenced a fervoured discussion about the poltergeist that supposedly haunts the club. I really should be more careful.
The club was almost deserted, save for a couple of regulars and tables full of girls counting their money. As I passed the DJ booth I looked at Chantal, and she knew she was to follow me. It was cold and frosty outside and the multi story car park was deserted, apart from him sitting on the bonnet of my black Audi.
I blipped the central locking and hissed at him.
‘Don’t sit on the car.’
He smirked at me, climbing into the passenger seat. Of course, with the range of vehicles I’ve had over the years I’m an excellent driver, and we screeched down the levels. Chantal was shivering in a cheap fur coat at the pedestrian entrance, and walked towards the car with a blank expression. She climbed in the back and I switched the heated seats on for her. I’m not a complete sadist.
Without any human struggling or fussing, he slipped into the back seat and enveloped Chantal. His hand went up her skirt and her head went back. I pulled on to the motorway and adjusted the rearview mirror. I could still see the marks on her neck from last night. He was licking them, and her legs opened wider. He pulled her knickers off with one hand and started fingering her pussy, his fingers circling over her clit, and I squirmed in the driver’s seat. I fed off her so often we were sort of connected. His hands moved to her breasts and pulled down her dress and bra. She looked perfect, with her little dress bunched around her waist, her tits bare apart from the edges of her furry coat which was falling away from her shoulders, her woolly winter socks, her legs open and her pussy on show. He had her in a total frenzy, thrusting against his hand, pulling him closer.
Then his fangs appeared. He pushed two fingers inside her as he bit down on her throat. It was so smooth, she arched her back, gushing onto his hand and letting her head fall away to allow him to feed. My knickers, what little there was of them, were soaked.
I pulled up outside my building. The sun was coming up but it wasn’t so bad in winter. Steps led down to my basement flat, chosen for its ability to block out most of the light. I walked ahead and the man – or whatever he was – carried Chantal in his arms, her clothes still hanging off. A taxi dropped off a group of young men a couple of doors down and they had a good look at her, hot and young, naked in all the right places, lolling unselfconsciously in his arms.
In spite of my intense arousal, the daylight was starting to get the better of me.
‘So, when do you sleep?’ I asked him.
‘Whenever I like.’
He carried Chantal through to the bedroom.
The coffin thing is bullshit. I can sleep anywhere during the day as long as there is no natural light creeping in. My bedroom has no windows, and the heavy black velvet curtain over the door sees to any sneaky rays from other parts of the flat. I lit a candle and started to undress. It was probably the fiftieth time that night I’d taken my clothes off, but this time I moved naturally. Chantal was on the bed and he removed what was left of her clothes before starting on his own. I got my first proper look at this strange and beautiful creature as he stripped to his underwear in the flickery dim light. He was fair skinned, but not vampire pale, and very muscular.
He lay down next to Chantal and I could see a firm bulge appearing in his boxers.
‘A little nightcap, perhaps?’ he asked, pulling back her hair to expose the untouched side of her neck. She moaned, leaning in to his touch. In all these years she is one of the most sensual, willing, beautiful victims I have ever encountered.
I straddled the girl, and we smiled at each other. There was a fine line between where my magic ended and her masochism began. I kissed her collar bones and he bent over me, kissing my back. I could feel his erection pressing against me and I pushed back onto him, inviting him in. Chantal squirmed under me. She wanted some as well. He read the signs and moved back, and his head was between her legs, and mine. Our pussies were on top of each other, and he licked from one to the other. I nicked her skin and the blood burst forth, warm and full of love. She was almost laughing with pleasure. I knew how to make a nice clean cut, and as he licked her to a climax her heart beat faster and I fed harder to keep up. My own orgasm built up as I filled up on blood, and it spilled down my face as my juices spilled down his.
He w
anted to fuck me again but the day was sapping my energy. I told him to wait until nightfall for me, but Chantal opened her legs like the little slave she was, and the last thing I remember before falling asleep was him on top of her, and her expression of complete abandon as he fucked her, vampire speed.
It gets dark early in winter, more time to play. I woke with a start, completely alert. He was up, moving around. Hot as he was, I didn’t trust him. I put on a kimono. Strange habit really. I’m a professional stripper and an almost emotionless vampire; I was alone in a flat with two people I’d had very messy, noisy sex with; and of course I don’t feel the cold, but I still adhered to the convention of putting on a robe. Some human stuff is hard to shake.
He was wearing just his trousers, a very good look for one with a torso like his, and was drinking coffee. Just when I thought I had him figured out.
‘I had your girl prepare you breakfast,’ he handed me a wine glass full of blood. ‘She’s taking a shower.’
I took the glass. ‘Cut the shit. You drank from her, and now you’re drinking coffee? I’d be down for a week if I touched coffee. What are you?’
He smiled. Chantal walked out of the bathroom in a little towel.
‘Well?’
She was looking from me to him and back again, completely oblivious to what was actually going on.
‘Drink,’ he said. ‘Then, I think you’ll remember, I’m on a promise.’
He headed for the bedroom. What could I do? I knocked back the blood Chantal had shed for me before her morning shower. I could feel her pulse as it coursed through me, and the memories flooded back of last night in the club, in the car, in bed.
I followed him.
He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me deeply. I tried to stay focused, to concentrate on analysing what it was that was so different. Human men I liked, but they were a means to an end. Other vampires, while a rare treat, were cold, unfeeling. My body always responded but my emotions never did, but with him I was feeling almost human myself.