by Todd Gregory
His tongue lapped at my throat as he started flicking my nipples with both hands. My entire body started trembling. I had no idea where Nico was, if he was even still in the room with us or if he’d fled. I didn’t care—in fact, the thought of him watching his brother, his dark identical twin, driving me insane with pleasure was somewhat thrilling to me, arousing me even more than I already had been, which I didn’t think possible. These two clearly were witches, witches who could give and take pleasure, take me to heights of pleasure and depths of depravity I’d never dreamed of before.
Then his teeth closed around my right nipple and I felt myself rising from the bed. I opened my eyes and could see the top of his head, my legs locked around his waist, and we were indeed rising from the bed. I looked through the open French doors out onto the broad veranda, and I saw Nico’s naked form at the wrought-iron railing, leaning over it, his perfectly formed, beautiful white ass almost beckoning for me to come up from behind and take him yet again. I opened my mouth to call out to him, to ask him to come back inside, but all that came out of my throat was a guttural gasping for air as Lorenzo nibbled on my nipple.
My head fell back and before my eyes stopped focusing and closed, I could see the bed several feet below us.
I heard Lorenzo laugh and say in a low voice, “Yes, you like that, don’t you, bitch? You want to be my little whore, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathed out, “make me your bitch. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop . . .”
My voice trailed off into a scream as his teeth closed on my other nipple, hard enough that it felt like he was trying to bite it off. For a brief moment, pain drove everything else out of my mind, but the pain transformed almost instantly into pleasure, crossing the thin line that separated the two, and I wondered how that was even possible, but then the thought was driven right out of my head again as I felt one of his fingers probing between my ass, looking for a way in, and I braced myself for the invasion I knew was to come.
There was no playing around, as Jean-Paul and so many others liked to do. Once his finger found what it was looking for, there was no hesitation, no pause.
Instead he shoved it inside.
My entire body stiffened as everything inside and outside contracted, fighting to keep the invading digit out of me, resisting it, not wanting to surrender and give in to it, and my breathing was fast, so fast that I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my brain, and I knew I was about to hyperventilate. I was going to pass out from the pleasure, but was that even possible for a vampire? And then with a loud gasp and a cry, my entire body relaxed and his finger went all the way and began moving around inside of me, making an enormous circle.
“Oh, yes, boy, you like that, don’t you? Think you can handle another finger?” he whispered.
Before I could answer, another finger slid into me.
He spread them apart and wiggled them.
I couldn’t think.
I could barely breathe.
My entire body felt like it had been doused in gasoline and set on fire.
Another finger slid into me.
How was that even possible?
“Because you’re a whore, Cord, just a big hole waiting to get plugged by whatever creature comes along big enough to satisfy you.”
“Fuck you, Rachel! Get out of my head!”
It was almost like her taunting voice inspired me to greater depths.
I pushed him until he was on his back, and I was straddling him. I pulled his fingers out of my ass and grabbed his cock.
“You want to fuck me, big man?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You think that cock can satisfy me?”
I shoved the head into my ass and a half scream erupted from my lips. I’d had big men before, but it was like his was growing inside of me, getting thicker somehow now that it was on the inside.
As I slid down the shaft, it seemed like that, too, was somehow getting longer, thicker.
How was that possible?
Witchcraft.
And he was filling me up.
He was huge, so fucking big—
My eyes stopped focusing.
Everything was turning green.
And finally it was all inside of me, every last inch of it, every piece of it, and I sensed he was smiling, enjoying the feel of my ass against his thick balls, and I just sat there, not moving, just resting with his enormous cock throbbing inside of me, and he tried to move his hips, tried to move it a little bit out of me, but I would have none of it.
“You’ll pull out when I let you,” I snarled, my voice almost animalistic as I gripped it with every muscle I could.
He slapped me, my head spinning off to the left with the force of the blow, my eyes filling with liquid and my ears ringing.
He shoved me off and down through the air, until I hit the bed with such force I heard the frame crack. He landed on top of me and slapped me again.
“You don’t make the rules, whore. If I want to fuck you, I will fuck you. Do you understand me, you little bitch?” he snarled, grabbing my ankles and holding them up as he slammed his cock inside of me so hard that my head hit the wall. He slammed a fist into my stomach, knocking all the air out of me as he pulled his cock back out and slammed it back inside of me.
I tasted blood in my mouth and the taste of it, my own blood, only raised my passion and desire to a higher level, and he slammed his cock into me again, my head hitting the wall again with enough force to crack the plaster.
“I knew you liked it rough,” he snarled, slapping my face again with the other hand.
“You think you’re man enough to make me come?” I snarled. “I don’t think you are, little man. You think you can satisfy me? You’re not man enough, do you understand? Better men than you have tried and failed, so come on, man, come on, give it to me!” I’d never been so wild, so determined, so out of control.
He slapped me again, his face contorted with anger, almost purple with his rage as he grabbed my hair and yanked.
The pain was exquisite, and I gasped, almost blowing my load as he pulled my head back even harder.
I slapped his face.
His eyes got wide with anger, and he slammed deep into me until I gasped. He pounded his big thick dick into me a few more times, and then he pulled almost completely out, just watching me with a sly look on his face.
“What are you doing?” I gasped out.
“Beg me.”
“You fucking bastard,” I snarled.
He flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled me up to my knees and slammed into me again.
He started fucking me harder, deeper, building up a rhythm and the pleasure was so intense I couldn’t think of anything except that cock, his mighty cock, deep in me. I wanted it so far inside me that when he came, it would shoot out my mouth. I wanted to be bruised and battered and slammed and treated like the nasty whore I was. Yes, I was just a pig with no pride or shame; I wanted to be fucked and raped and spanked, smacked around like the bitch I was. No wonder I’d left Jean-Paul; neither he nor any of the others were man enough to give me the kind of fucking I wanted, the kind of fucking I deserved, the kind of fucking I had to have. No, they weren’t men. I’d needed a real man, with a cock the size of a baseball bat that could slam into me over and over again, make me beg, make me debase myself. I could feel drool spilling out of my mouth, but I didn’t care. I didn’t ever want him to stop. I wanted him to pound me until the end of time. Nothing mattered except that huge dick inside me, and maybe if I got lucky he’d bathe me in his cum. I wanted to be covered in his cum and his sweat and his man juice. I wanted him to treat me like the whore I was—
And I felt it, I was going to come and there was nothing I could do. There was no way I could stop it, and it exploded out of me.
And I felt him blowing his own all over my ass, my back, my hair, my head until I was drenched, the droplets running down my sides.
And spent, I collapsed onto the mattress.
And he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Who’s your master, whore?”
“My God,” I breathed. “My God, my God, my God.”
“Yeah, you liked that, didn’t you?” he whispered, slapping my ass with his right hand. “Rest up, bitch, and I’ll give you some more.”
I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath.
I opened them again when I felt a towel wiping Lorenzo’s cum off me. I looked up and saw Nico. He gave me a sad little smile and walked away.
I rolled over onto my back and felt sore everywhere. Lorenzo’s eyes were closed, and he was sleeping. His hair was slick with sweat, and drops of sweat glistened in his body hair. I sat up, wincing a bit.
Nico walked out of the bathroom and sat down, naked, in a wingback chair next to the hall door.
I got out of the bed and walked on shaky legs over to him. “Nico—”
His eyes glistened with tears. “It’s okay, Cord. I’m used to it,” he said quietly. He wrapped his arms around himself, the picture of misery. “It’s been my whole life, you know.” He gave me a weak, sad smile. “That’s why I was glad I got to you first. If I hadn’t, you never would have given me a second glance.”
I knelt in front of him, my legs protesting as I did. “Nico, just because”—I bit my lip—“what just happened did, that doesn’t mean I don’t want you anymore.”
He looked at me, his wet green eyes alive with hope. “Do you really mean that? Will you stay here with us?”
“Of course I will.” I stood up and reached my hand out for him. “Come lie down with us.”
I turned my back so he couldn’t see my smirk.
CHAPTER 13
Nico slipped into the bed behind me, placing his arm over me. I pressed his hand to my lips, and I felt him sigh. His touch sent an electric current through my body, and again, I felt like I was on a drug of some kind, but it was a better drug than anything Jean-Paul had given me.
I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing even, focusing on each breath going in and holding it for a second before releasing it completely, blowing out until my lungs were empty. I could hear my heart racing, pounding in my ears, so powerful I could see it pulsing in my eyelids. My mind was alive with consciousness—I was aware of a multitude of different voices besides my own inside my head. I tried to push all the noise aside and wondered again what was happening to me. I could hear birds rustling in trees outside the house, the whisper of the grass moving in the wind, the gentle lapping of the river against the shore, the slight noise the current made as it moved out in the center, the intense playing of hands on the piano downstairs.
My skin was so hot it was like being on fire, and heat was radiating out of my veins. And my heart kept pounding, so loud I wondered that neither Lorenzo nor Nico could hear it. I focused on my breath, not wanting to start panting, not wanting to let either one of them know anything was different with me. I didn’t know why I didn’t want them to know, but somehow I knew it was important.
Something was happening to me—and not just to my physical self, but to my mind.
I was changing, and in the deep recesses of memory, I knew that my conversion from human to vampire had been something similar to this, several days of this burning fever, of doors inside of my mind opening.
What had these twin witches done to me? I wondered as I opened my eyes and realized I could see every individual strand of hair on Lorenzo’s head, that I could feel every soft, downy, almost invisible hair on Nico’s arm brushing against my skin, and it took all of my willpower and self-control not to tremble.
Whatever was happening to me wasn’t over, and I didn’t know how long this was going to last, but there wasn’t any point to panicking, so I allowed myself to relax a bit. The first time I had done Ecstasy had been something similar to this—the feeling had been so overwhelming I’d tried to resist it, which had only made it worse. Jean-Paul and Clint had talked me through that brief scary moment, convinced me to let go and ride the waves. And even though this was so much more intense, resisting it wasn’t going to make it stop.
So I let myself go, gave myself to the fire burning in my veins, and when the sensations and noises and voices crowded back into my mind, I didn’t try to fight them.
And as I’d figured, eventually they faded until my own consciousness, my own self, was the most clear and more powerful.
I nestled up closer against Lorenzo, just to see if my body felt hot to the touch. He didn’t move, didn’t adjust at all, didn’t even shift or try to move away from me. He simply relaxed his muscles more so that some of his weight was now pressed against my chest. Clearly, this burning feeling was for me alone. I wasn’t radiating heat to either of the twin witches. Although I still felt as if I were burning alive, their skin remained pressed to mine on both sides of me. Their skin felt deliciously cool, and I could feel Nico’s even breathing behind me, and as soon as I thought about his breath on my skin, my skin began to tingle and I allowed my entire body to go into an involuntary shudder of pleasure. Their breathing was even and gentle, not labored, so they were both slumbering—and I could sense their minds at peace, not dreaming, just images dancing through their brains without any coherence. I didn’t know how it was possible, but whatever was happening to me and my body and my mind, the vampiric powers that Rachel had told me I would gradually develop over time were now developing and very quickly, at that.
I listened again, and heard the sound of the wind moving the grass on the lawn, then limbs and leaves in the trees on the far side of the lawn being kissed by the same wind.
And as they were both deep in slumber, I wondered if I could ease myself out from between them and escape.
But whenever I shifted, even the slightest bit, I sensed their consciousness swimming up from the darkness of sleep and knew they’d be awake in a moment if I tried to get out of the bed.
But as my veins continued to burn inside of my skin, I felt my muscles getting stronger—the feeling I remembered from when I used to go to the gym and work out, that tiredness and soreness of muscle tissue being torn down and rebuilt. I opened my eyes and looked at my shoulder, and as I looked at it, it seemed like I was able to see through the skin down to the muscle fibers themselves, and they were growing, getting stronger, bigger, storing power.
When this was over, whatever it was, I suspected neither Nico nor Lorenzo would be able to stop me from leaving, even with their magic.
And I no sooner thought that than a voice whispered inside my head, “Why do you want to get away? You have two gorgeous studs right here, ready to service you whenever you need it. And they’re witches—powerful creatures who can work magic. What do you have to go back to? What have the vampires ever done for you? Jean-Paul didn’t love you, remember? He loved you being young, not you. You could have been anyone. So what’s out there for you, Cord? All there is for you is that lonely, musty old house on Orleans Street! And do you really think the old man and the bitch give two shits about you? It’s not like they’ve come looking for you or anything. That should tell you all you need to know about them. . . .”
Jared. There’s Jared.
Could I really just leave him there with those two?
Didn’t I owe him something?
I closed my eyes and concentrated on him, wondering if he was all right.
And a window in my mind opened, and I could see him just as clearly as if I were standing in the front bedroom of the old house, next to the bed he was stretched out on. Once again he had shrugged the covers aside, pushing them down to the foot of the bed. His eyes were still closed but were moving beneath the lids, his mouth slightly open, a spot of drool in the right corner. His chest was moving up and down with each breath he drew in and blew out. His beautiful chest, flat stomach, and of course, the enormous erection just above the heavy balls, straining and aching for release . . . it was like being there. I could smell the mustiness of the house, the dust, and the strong man scent coming from him, the mustiness
from his damp armpits. Drops of water nestled in his underarm hair and dotted his hair along the hairline. As I looked down at his beautiful body, I wanted him, wanted to straddle his massive cock and ride it, let him fill me up and—
And I closed the window in my mind firmly, and I was no longer in the room with him but back in this bedroom in this weird mansion of the twin witches.
I wouldn’t allow myself to think about Jared that way. I only could hope he didn’t remember what had already happened, and I felt guilt bubbling up inside of me. Had I taken advantage of him when he was clearly not in his right mind? What was it my women’s studies professor had said—oh, yes, if someone can’t think clearly enough to give informed consent, it is rape.
I’d raped him.
I pushed that thought out of my mind. I’d deal with that some other time.
I wondered if I should try to communicate with Nigel or Rachel, but another voice whispered, You don’t know if any of this is true, or if they’ve given you some kind of drug that’s making you imagine all of these things. Can you trust what you’re feeling? Jean-Paul used to give you drugs that made you imagine all kinds of things, didn’t he? And you loved them . . . you loved them so much you would have taken them all the time if he would have let you. It’s no wonder you don’t know anything about being a vampire, about what’s happening to you now. All you wanted to do was take drugs, drink some blood, and fuck. Shame on you!
That voice in my head sounded like my father’s.
I pushed that voice aside, realizing my cock was hardening again as it pressed against Lorenzo’s hard, hairy ass. He shifted in his sleep slightly and pulled my arm tighter across his chest. Again, a tingle went through my body, and I felt the heat coming back, even hotter and more intense than before, and I wondered if I could slip inside of him, ride him, make him my little bitch the way he’d branded me as his earlier.
What is wrong with me? What have they done to me, these brother witches ?