by Darren Cage
With wavy dark blond hair that reached nearly to her elbows, she looked as if she had stepped out of a Victorian movie set. Her face was pale, the only pop of color on her bright red lipstick. Her eyebrows were arched, her eyes an enchanting blue. She was dazzling, glamorous especially in that skintight silver dress that widened at her feet, fanning out on the ground like a spider web. The neckline was low, and her neck was bare. The only thing she was missing was a necklace to complete the look.
After stepping back, I eyed the door. It remained shut, and although she had screamed, so had many others from either pleasure or pain or perhaps the combination. Clearly, no one was bothering to come around and learn the reason for her cry. It hadn’t helped her cause at all that she hadn’t said anything about a body or murder but only an inarticulate, wordless scream.
Something silver sparkled on the ground. A necklace. I must’ve knocked it off her neck when I grabbed her.
I glanced from her to the necklace, but she did nothing.
“Why aren’t you talking?” I asked, curious why she hadn’t said anything since I told her to stop. Did I spark that much fear in her? “Too frightened?”
She swallowed but said nothing.
“Why aren’t you getting your necklace?”
“You told me to stay here,” she said in a strangely dull, flat voice that didn’t match the lyrical quality her cry had managed to possess.
Hmm.
I kicked the necklace across the room. No reaction from her.
“Go to your necklace,” I said.
She slowly crossed over to it.
“Pick it up.”
The woman listened.
“If it is broken, come over here and give me a kiss,” I said, fighting back a grin.
Carefully, she examined the necklace then came over to me and kissed me.
Compulsion. I could compel her, could force her to do anything and everything I wanted. Who knew? Maybe I had done the same with the dead woman on the bed. If I had, I hadn’t meant to, but considering this woman would have caused me to have to fight my way out of here, I had no choice. Not that I was concerned that a fight would have ended in my death. Not at all. No one was a match for me, and that included this delicious morsel of a woman standing in front of me.
“Is that the best kiss you can give?” I growled.
She wrapped her arms around me, pressed her body hard against mine, and kissed me with so much passion and zest that I almost felt as if I were alive again. If I wanted to, I could even pretend she loved me.
Not that I wanted the love of another woman.
I had to break off the kiss. She was breathless when I pulled away, and I stared at her, wanting her naked this very moment. Her gown was too exquisite for me to rip it off her, though. I was a vampire, not a Neanderthal.
“Undress,” I said.
She slowly removed her clothes, wriggling out of the dress. Unlike the slut on the bed, she wore a matching silver bra and panty set with lots of lines crisscrossing. Utterly captivating. Not sleazy, not slutty. Gorgeous. I didn’t even mind that she only removed her gown but left on the bra and panty set.
“What would you like to do?” I asked her.
The woman pursed her lips.
Hmm. It seemed asking a question did not fall under compulsion.
Unless compelled to answer.
“You can tell me,” I ordered.
“I want to leave.”
Not about to happen. She had seen too much.
I shook my head. “Why were you up here? Answer.”
“I was looking for a friend.”
“To join in?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed, and she put her hands on her hips, breathing heavier, which made her large breasts lift higher.
“Then why?”
“To see if she was all right. She’s been up here a long while, and she just recently was dumped, and I don’t think it would be good for her to sleep with random guys. She’ll end up getting a disease if she’s not careful.”
“Her name?”
“Lucy.”
“And yours?”
“Stela.”
“Stela. That’s a lovely name.”
She said nothing. I hadn’t asked a question.
“Why are you wearing panties?” I asked with a grin.
“My friends decided not to wear any, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
Ah.
“Are you a virgin, Stela?”
“No.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
Two years older than my Mihaela and two years younger than myself.
“Do you enjoy sex, Stela?”
“Yes.”
“Which position?”
“Riding.” She didn’t look embarrassed. In fact, she looked almost defiant. Was the compulsion wearing off?
“You like to be in charge.” I smiled at her, enjoying this back and forth.
“Your teeth are red.” She glanced around the room as if seeing it for the first time.
I stepped up to her before she could see the bed.
“You’re covered in blood,” she whispered, her tone gaining more emotion from the emotionless quality the compulsion forced upon her.
“I need a shower,” I said, not worried in the slightest. Whatever needed to be done, I would do it. “Won’t you join me?”
She blinked in confusion before a faint blankness washed over her face.
“Of course,” she said in that flat voice from earlier.
In the corner was an area for washing and a faucet for a shower. The water was cool, but I didn’t care, and she went to join me, but I shook my head.
“Naked,” I ordered.
She stripped off her silver bra and panty set and stood beside me in the cramped shower.
“Make me hard,” I demanded.
Without hesitating, she knelt down and took me into her mouth, sucking me hard, but I couldn’t get it up. Next, she soaped her hands and stroked me, teasing my balls. I wanted to get hard, but I knew what I needed. Still, this felt rather enjoyable even if it was also torturous.
A moment passed before I realized it wasn’t just the shower water rushing down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She leaned back and stared up at me, a hint of emotion in her otherwise blank face. “I can’t… I’m trying!”
The compulsion was making her feel like a failure. We couldn’t have that, and I took pity on her. “I need to drink,” I explained.
“Whiskey? Scotch?”
“No.”
“Soda? Water?”
“No.” I lifted her chin with a firm finger.
“What do you need?” she asked, and I loved the hint of eager desperation in her voice. So much better than that flat tone.
“Blood.”
Her eyes widened, and she jerked back.
“I need blood to get hard,” I clarified.
Technically, all guys did, but I needed to drink it.
That blankness came over her, and she nodded. “How can I get you blood?” she asked, her emotion fleeing from her voice again.
“Lie down,” I ordered.
She complied readily. The water pouring down the drain was no longer red, and as long as I controlled myself, no more would. I would drink every last drop.
I eased her legs apart and kissed from her knee up her thigh to her clit and then to the other thigh. Near her vulva, I bit down, nipped really. Blood trickled into my mouth, and I sucked enough for my cock to enlarge.
Then, I pulled back to show her my cock.
Her eyes widened although still blank, and she almost smiled.
“Will you ride me?” I asked.
“Are you giving me a choice?” she asked.
Apparently or else she would have already shoved me down and mounted me.
Should I allow her the choice? No, the risk was too great. She would run away, alert others to the murder, and I would be
persecuted. I would have to flee, and I might not be able to fetch my dead wife’s body. I would not abandon Mihaela.
Even if I was already fucking other women.
Never once during our marriage did I consider or even look at another woman. A few of my married friends did sleep around while at war, and perhaps that was why they had paid the price and died on the battlefield and why I had survived.
In a sense.
“Ride me,” I commanded Stela.
She rode me, and she rode me hard. Her muscles clenched, and she teased my nipples. Stela kissed me even without being prompted. The second time she did, I nipped her lip and licked the blood that eased out of the small wound.
Stela pulled away, sitting upright and riding harder, driving herself down on me as if furious.
“Relax some,” I murmured, but she kept going twice more before crying out.
The force of her orgasm collapsed her walls so tightly around me that I nearly came in response.
“Kiss me,” I said.
She hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You have some blood on your lip.”
“Lick it,” I demanded, and she did.
Something about that was so utterly arousing that I bit down on my wrist and held it up toward her mouth.
“Drink,” I commanded.
She took my wrist to her lips and licked.
“Suck.”
Stela sucked, drinking from me, and it was so intensely erotic that I could feel a pleasurable heat in the tip of my cock. I was almost there, almost ready.
Quickly, I grabbed her other wrist, brought it to my mouth, and soaked in her life source. As if the blood went straight to my cock, I filled even more of her, and she gasped, still sucking, her cries of pleasure muffled by my wrist.
“Kiss me,” I said, grabbing her face and pulling her to me.
Tasting my blood on her tongue was all it took. I came so violently that I thought my cock would break off.
I bit down on her tongue, and more blood filled my mouth. Wrapping my arms around her, I sat up, thrusting my hips as she continued to go up and down on my still-hard cock.
She peppered me with kisses, and then Stela threw her head back. Her breasts bounced. They were magnificent, her nipples the largest I had ever seen, and I managed to lick them without biting. Her neck, though, was so very tempting.
To distract myself, my hands went to her hips, and I guided her, forcing her to impale herself more and more on my dick. The blood from her tongue had been enough to get a rise out of me despite already orgasming.
“Do you like this?” I asked.
“Y-Yes,” she moaned.
Was that the truth? I could ask, but I didn’t.
“What do you want?” I asked her.
“Oh… Ah… To…”
“To what?”
She shook her head, still thrown back, her breasts wobbling. One of my hands stayed on her hip, but the other squeezed and fondled her boob. They were perfect. My Mihaela’s breasts hadn’t been quite so larger, perhaps a little more lifted, though.
“If you don’t tell me what you want,” I warned, “I can’t give it to you.”
“Finish me,” she cried.
I whirled us around and laid her down so I could hammer my cock into her. My bit wrist stayed against her mouth, and she sucked and sucked. Her wrist I brought to my mouth, and I drank as I fucked her, and I fucked her good and hard and long. All the while, we drank from each other, and when she came, I almost did.
But I didn’t.
So annoyed that I missed my chance, I pumped even harder, faster than a human ever could. The friction created a warm heat, and between that and the blood, I was close, so very close.
I removed my wrist from her mouth, leaned forward, and licked my blood from her lips. Yes, that was what it took. My hot seed buried itself deep within her, and I shuddered, shaking violently as I pulled out of her. I hadn’t realized how ice cold my body felt until I had generated so much frictional heat between us, and I knew I would want to feel that again.
Maybe Stela could stick around. Maybe we could do this again. She seemed like a girl willing to make a man happy. She had been. Not that I was a man any longer. I was a vampire.
I rested my head on Stela’s chest. My one hand automatically went to her boob, and I squeezed it and yanked on her nipple.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
She didn’t respond.
That was when I realized how quiet the room was.
There was no heart beating. Stela was dead too.
Chapter Five
Maybe it was just my cock, but I was disappointed that I had killed Stela. I hadn’t intended to. Worse, I felt even more like a monster. Now that my thirst for sex had been satiated for the time being at least, the realization that I had forced her to ride me sickened me. Yes, I was a vampire, but I was a monster for another reason.
For a long moment, I stared down at Stela. I could not explain it, but I felt drawn to her in a way that I hadn’t felt with the first woman. Was it because I allowed her to drink my blood?? I gave Stela a part of myself, a part that normally no other would willingly share. It had been so incredibly erotic, but it had tethered us in a way.
And now, that tether was cut short because her own blood no longer pumped through her body.
She looked so peaceful, lying there as if merely sleeping rather than dead. I brushed her hair from her face and tenderly kissed her forehead. My hands gripped her shoulders, but they fell to land on her large breasts as I bent once more to kiss her lips a final time.
Although I did not want to leave Stela, I had no choice. There were two bodies I had to hid, and I raced over to grab the first woman. Was this Stela’s friend? Lucy? I believed so, but now I could not ask Stela to confirm.
Blood coated the room, the woman, just about everything, so there was nothing I could use to cover us. Instead of heading to the door, I carried her to the window. We were high up, but I didn’t hesitate and landed lightly on my feet. The din of the nightclub drowned out any sound my jump and touchdown might have made, and I immediately took off as swiftly as possible. As soon as I came across some water, I dumped her into it and raced back to the nightclub, scaling the wall and returning to Stela’s side.
She lay just as I left her, and I knelt beside her, unwilling to disturb her. Delaying here was foolish, beyond stupid, and yet I did not want to dump her body where I had the first. Should I bury her? Should I… I couldn’t even begin to think.
What was wrong with me? I didn't know this woman and had never forged a true bond with her. Everything had been about myself and my own wants and desires. Selfishly, I hadn't given her a choice in the matter.
If I could make it up to her…
Why would I even consider that? She was dead, killed by my bloodlust and lust for her body. She satisfied my two cravings, and she had paid the price. Others would follow suit in the future. Of that, I had no doubt. I was a monster, primitive and crude, needing only to drink—well, thirst—and fuck. Nothing else. No emotions.
Yet, my chest burned for her where my heart had once beat.
Again, I lowered beside her and kissed her. When I pulled back, her chest trembled, her body shaking, trembling all over, and a strangled gasp fled her lungs.
She breathed two more times before her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes remained the same exquisite shade of blue as before, but there was something changed there.
Stela licked her lips and sat up. Was she invading my space or I hers? I could hardly think or react or comprehend what was happening.
“I’m thirsty,” she whispered in a pained voice.
I grinned now as clarity came to me. How ignorant could I have been? We had shared blood, and then, she had died. Why would she not then rise as I had? As a vampire?
I cupped her chin and rubbed my thumb along her cheek. “What will quench your thirst?”
She slapped my hand away and then se
ized my wrist. Her eyebrows knitted with confusion as she eyed the perfect skin that had once been cut open so that she might drink.
“Go ahead,” I urged.
Stela blinked, and I loved to see the spark of fire burning there. I doubted I could compel her to do my bidding now, and I did not want to any longer. How ironic was it that I could see her more alive as a vampire than when she had been human? But then, a compelled human was more or less a zombie.
She threw my wrist away and stood. Her hand went to her head as if she had a headache.
“You need to drink,” I told her.
“What did you do to me?” she demanded.
“What do you remember?” I challenged.
“I… I was trying to find my friend…”
“Lucy,” I supplied. “Did you find her?”
Stela’s gaze drifted toward the bed. “You killed her,” she whispered.
“What else?” I asked. There was no point in denying her claim as she spoke the truth.
She frowned, her brows furrowing. Her nose was so delicate and slender. Her eyes and lips, in comparison, were so large. All of her was beautiful, and I only realized just now that she had a small beauty mark near her left eye.
“You made me strip my clothes and kiss you and… and…”
“And?” I prompted.
Her answer was a sharp slap. It stung slightly but only for a fraction of a second. Her hand hadn’t seemed to move at all.
I grinned. “You don’t like the memory of you coming while my cock was buried deep inside of you?”
“How did you make me do all of that?” she hissed, her eyes flashing. “You forced me to—”
“Believe me or not, but I did not know until you that I could compel a human.”
“Compel.” Her eyes narrowed. “You make it sound like you aren’t a human.”
“Neither are you. Not anymore. Stela, our sex was—”
“Meant nothing,” she snapped.
“—rough and resulted in your death.”
“But… but I’m breathing,” she protested.
“And thirsty. Dying of thirst, a thirst that whiskey, Scotch, soda, and water cannot quench.”
Again, her gaze fell on my wrist.
I nodded.