I snarl, lift my head and sniff, blood dripping from my fangs to spatter on the cheek of my meal. Thick crimson oozes from the twin puncture wounds on his neck and he groans.
“Shut up.”
He groans again.
“I said,” I grip his hair and bang his head on the office desk with each syllable. “Shut. Up.” He gets the message.
My nose twitches. Something in the air. Something new. Different. Exciting. Fresh meat, not like the pathetic specimen trapped under my thighs, whimpering.
I listen, sniff again, tipping my head back trying to work out which direction it’s coming from. Maybe the corridor ahead of me? The one I’d stolen down to corner my current prey in this drab, featureless, open-plan office.
No. Not that way. The musk is deeper to the left. Definitely left, drifting and enticing. Snapping my head towards the source, I inhale deeply. Snarl. Yes. There.
Breathing in again to be certain, I’m frustrated as the scent wanes. Twist my head this way and that to try and catch it again, but it’s gone. Fading. Replaced by the steady click of approaching heels.
I centre my gaze and wait until she emerges into the bluish fluorescent glow.
Lucene. Immaculate and ethereal, all in black, red and promise. She pauses to scan the room, faint amusement flickering at the corners of her mouth below the jeweled mask.
“Bit high-brow for you, my love. An office worker?”
I lick my lips and grimace at his taste. “Needs must.”
“There must be better.”
“No doubt. But when the thirst hits…”
I leave the sentence unfinished. We both know how much a slave to it we are.
She cocks her head. “Is he empty?”
“Not yet.”
She runs hands down her body to rest at her hips. Cinches the dress and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of sheer red panties. Draws them down, steps free and bends to retrieve them.
With the garment dangling from a fingertip, she closes the distance between us. “Sharesies?”
She trails the underwear across his face, places her palms atop mine on his chest and crawls up to straddle his head. Settles, his moans muffled.
“If you have a problem with this, raise your hand.”
He twitches but otherwise doesn’t move.
She grins. “Thought not.” Bringing her panties up, she tilts her head and regards me. “You know we don’t leave the bayou without masks.”
I nod at my discarded mask on the linoleum by the desk. “He won’t remember.”
“Yes but,” she lifts her lacy underwear to my face and waits for me to breathe in, “we should be cautious.” She stretches the fabric and pulls it over my inky hair, the leg holes framing my eyes, damp gusset wrapping my nose. “There. Masked again.”
Each breath is laced with her scent. She leans forward and our lips brush; a fleeting touch that I feel everywhere. Her mouth explores. Samples the blood that clings to my chin. She pulls away, screwing her face. “Ewww. Low B-vits. A fucking vegetarian?”
“Yeah.” I wipe away the excess. Reach across and grab her hair. Pull her face to mine, our tongues entwining. Lips crushing, wetness forming in my panties.
The man groans beneath Lucene’s pussy. She breaks our embrace and lifts her hips, gazing down at him. “Hush, veggie. Can’t you see we’re busy? Stick your tongue out and make yourself useful.”
She waits then drops onto his outstretched tongue and grinds, returning her attention to me, our lips reconnecting. Soft moans drift between us and my hands gravitate to her chest. Cup. Squeeze. Pinch until she gasps into my mouth.
The kiss turns ferocious. Snarls, teeth, tongues. I flick the straps of her dress and bra, tits spilling into my palms. I grip, squeezing just how she likes it and she throws her head back, hissing. “Yess, Eva, you’re so fucking bad.”
I apply sustained pressure between thumb and forefinger to her nipples and she snakes a hand down her front to centre on her clit, rubbing rough circles. Her mouth gradually drops open wider and wider, gasps lengthening until she freezes and stops breathing, crushing her hips onto our quarry.
In suspended animation, warm to my touch, pulse racing, she exhales hard and moans, grinding wide hoops as her climax peaks. I keep the pressure up throughout and only slacken when her cries fade, echoing down the corridor.
Stroking her cheek, I kiss her tenderly as she plucks her fingers free and offers them to me, her eyes still closed.
I let her drift as I suckle the sticky digits, cleaning diligently. Tangy yet sweet, I never tire of her juices.
When her eyes open and find mine, she smiles. Glances down. “Is he hard yet?”
I circle my hips on his. “Supremely.”
She rocks her midriff to smear arousal across his face. “Poor love. Do you think we should help?”
I pull a face in thought. “We shouldn’t play with our food.”
“Mmm. Still…”
He groans and Lucene lifts clear, strings of arousal connecting them. I shuffle back a fraction, eyeing the bulge. Trace a fingertip up its length. Grip the zipper tab and draw it downward, before reaching in to free him. He’s warm and hard in my hand. “Mmmm. Maybe he can be of further use. Nothing vegetarian about his dick. Hey! What’s your name?”
I catch his eyes pleading. “Chet.”
“Okay Chet. Here’s the deal. Cum in me and she’ll bite it off. Got it?”
Lucene bares her fangs and clacks her teeth a few times to reinforce the point. He wisely nods and she lowers herself back onto his mouth.
I stroke his hardness, pulling it vertical and shuffling my hips over his again. Lucene reaches for my panties and tugs the gusset aside so I can sink onto his prick, exhaling as he splits me. Then I draw breath as she brushes my clit and starts massaging the wet nub with the pads of her fingers.
We begin a haphazard rhythm, me bouncing on Chet’s shaft, clicks and soft slaps of flesh on flesh accompanied by my sighs as Lucene grazes and works my clit. She’s so fucking good at it. Almost as good as with her tongue. Almost.
The meat vessel stiffens and gives an anguished squawk into Lucene’s pretty pussy. She lifts and regards him. “What?”
He’s breathless. “Gonna cum.”
I lift off him. Grip his sticky tip between thumb and forefinger and squeeze. “No you won’t. When I’m done, not before.”
He clamps his eyes shut and gasps. Lucene silences him with her pussy, rocking on his open mouth and I wait until he starts to soften slightly in my grasp before wanking him with long strokes then sinking back onto the swelling stiffness.
I roll my hips, driving him deep inside with each thrust, leaning forward and pulling Lucene into a wild kiss. She resumes grinding my clit, growls forming in my throat as she edges me, backing off when I’m too close. Each wave intensifies and I bite her lip as our snarled breaths reach a crescendo and she finally lets me cum. I groan into her mouth, then shoulder, pulse thundering through her neck by my cheek.
Chet whimpers something and she lifts again. “Speak.”
He can’t. His expression is pained, balancing on the edge of his own abyss. It’s delicious to watch him struggle as the tail end of my climax ripples around him. I slither free, pussy clenching the void he leaves behind, and capture his hardness in my fist.
Rolling my fingers to his base and holding him steady, cock vertical, he writhes, groans and I feather touches up and down the sides of his shaft until he jerks and releases spurt upon spurt into the space between mine and Lucene’s bodies. Each translucent arc of milky spunk splatters back onto his clothing and he hisses through his teeth until he’s spent.
Lucene is the first to move, dragging her messy cunt off his face, leaving him resembling a glazed donut. He watches us, slowly blinking, as his breathing settles.
“He won’t remember?”
I move to lift his face by his hawkish nose and effortlessly slam his skull onto the desk again. His eyes shut. “He won’t remember. But…”
“I know that look,” she cackles.
I tongue one of my fangs and smile. “We could take him home to Chewy—a surprise treat for our pet.”
She yanks me away from him. “Office boy would be missed, so no. Plus, bad blood. Even Chewy has standards.”
Pulling up her straps, she sashays over to the window and opens it. Cool jazz drifts in from The Spotted Cat across the street. The music would mellow out anyone else, but the mixture of fucking with the taste of blood keys me up; makes me alive.
Laughter from the pavement below prickles my undead nerves, reminding me I’ve taken a risk feeding in this part of town. Too many people milling about—the decent ones—who would be missed if I choose not to control myself. Or lose control in the frenzy of thirst.
Picking up my mask, I take one last look at my unconscious prey. Lift my head and sniff for any hint of the mystery scent earlier. Only faint traces remain. Like maybe the source is still nearby. Watching.
I’ll need to return. Hunt. I’m still thirsty and the scent is too good to share with anyone. Even Lucene.
For now, I move alongside her. A nod to one another and our outlines blur. Bodies collapse inward. Crack. Rearrange. Darken. She flies to the window sill first, then I join her, bat wings springing free.
We briefly cling to the frame, honeyed eyes glowing, deciding on our path. Then together, we vanish into the darkness, wings beating in rhythm back home.
~^o^~
We live in the belly of the bayou for its seclusion. No one lost and wandering too close would suspect the chambers buried beneath the rickety old shack. And the potent aroma of humans can’t penetrate the stench of the swamp. It’s a respite from their blood-scent that relentlessly claws and tears at our insides.
Then there’s the surrounding gators. They protect us while at rest during the day. No one’s getting past Chewy—an eighteen-footer. Like me, he’s always hungry, but his bite can rip a limb off.
So, this is our sanctuary. Home.
Except there’s been no peace for me today. That intoxicating whiff has been trapped in my mind since last night… edging me. I’ve rubbed my clit raw, searching for even a moment’s distraction. But daylight continues to trudge above us, impossible for me to do a damn thing until sundown.
Fuck, I’m wired! I scowl at fingernails I’ve ruined by dragging them along the stone passageways with my pacing. Lucene will be pissed if I head to the city two nights in a row, but I need to leave her behind. Call it instinct.
I shake my head. The place is crawling. Usually it’s just me and her, but with carnival season starting tomorrow, every fucking vampire from neighbouring hives has descended. A few elders like me, others young, but we’re all hungry.
Mi casa es su casa is fine up to a point, but being undead doesn’t stop some of them being slobs. We keep the place fairly tidy, but as I thread through the interconnecting passages, I kick discarded beer bottles and crunch empty vials of blood serum from those who crave their fix during daylight hours.
The carnival is our chance to feed without too much attention. Walking among a fresh blood supply distracted by voodoo, masked paraders, and tits flashed for beads. The French Quarter won’t see the darkness of my kind invading the party, hiding in plain sight. Feasting.
With the city overrun, I can’t risk others stumbling across the source of that mystery scent at the carnival. I need it for myself.
Tonight is my chance.
~^o^~
I’m pissed at the hours I’ve wasted around Frenchmen Street before I head to Bourbon. It’s on the fringes of the residential area, teeming with low-rent businesses offering art, books, sandwiches, or tattoos and piercings. Nothing of any note. No strays to feed from.
I cross the road towards the more populated area. Pause. Sniff… is that? And what do you know, my luck’s turning. There’s Lucene, with Julian. So she chose the city too and won’t be looking for me with him here dangling his thick meat in her face. She hoped he might show. They’ll no doubt fuck themselves dry and then hunt for a tasty snack to share.
One problem solved, but as I head into the crowds, I underestimate how hard it is to catch a particular scent with all the tourists pressed shoulder to shoulder, each putting out their own blood-smell. My senses are overloaded and I crave to grab one, five, ten, bite, drink and leave them staggering on the sidewalk to wonder what the fuck just happened.
But I hold it together. Barely.
I continue to move through them like dark smoke, masked, practically invisible, my black dress a second skin, easily avoiding bodies dancing to the music spilling from the bars. I’m fast when I need to be.
A whiff hits my nostrils and I stop mid-step. Lift my chin. Again. Mmmm. The pheromone cuts through everything else, tugging at me. My eyes track instinctively over bobbing heads until I find the source near a corner, partially lit by the neon sign of a strip club. He stands a head taller than those around him, broad with dark, curly hair, and a chiseled jaw. Fuck yeah. A beast in the best way who might put up a fight… and he’s staring directly at me.
I take a step forward, but a piss ant, blood soured with cheap booze, stumbles in front of me. “Show’s your tits,” he slurs, dangling shiny red beads in my face. He’s a day early.
I snatch them from his grimy hand and give him a backhanded love tap into the brick and mortar beside us, smiling as he crumples to the ground. When I look up, the one I’m hunting hasn’t moved. He’s… amused… and offers me a come-here nod. Intriguing. My prey’s fucking hot and bold. That’s new. I drip a little into the fresh satin underwear.
My lips curl as I strut toward him. He remains still until I close in, then turns into the dark mouth of the alley between the brick buildings illuminated purple by the gaudy sign. I round the corner, and there he is by the junction of the alleyway that crosses this one. His heart beats slow; I can feel it even from here. Strong, too.
A presence skitters out from behind him. She’s pale, eyes glowing with hunger even though her chin’s stained with dried blood. Her long fingernails stroke his throat, pausing at his carotid artery. She’s claiming him.
I speak from the shadows. “That one’s mine.”
She flashes her fangs and rises up on her toes to drag her tongue up his cheek before glancing in my direction—a challenge. I step into the moonlight, splintering a syringe underfoot. Fucking junkies. Tilting my head, recognition widens her eyes, despite my eye mask.
“Evangeline.” She immediately releases him and backs away. “Didn’t know he was yours.”
“You do now.”
The air vibrates between us. There’s power and respect in being one of the ancient ones. She retreats, all deference and fear, melting into the adjoining alleyway like a purposeless cat.
I redirect my attention to the virile source of the intoxicating scent. Curious. Even with her nails at his throat, he didn’t flinch.
In a flash, I’m within reach. Heat emanates from him as he watches me without panic. Not a drop of sweat on his brow. His heartbeat is faster now, yet keeping a steady rhythm. Blood engorges his crotch. Very interesting.
As if reading my mind, he gazes into my eyes. The revelation is still a surprise. “I know what you are.”
I close the small space between us, make a show of sniffing around his neck, and smile. It’s almost overpowering, “Mmm. Do you now?” His gaze shifts to my pointy teeth but he says nothing. “And yet… you aren’t afraid?”
“No.”
My hand slithers to his dick and grips it through his jeans. He swells more. The depth of his scent strengthens and I lick my lips. My teeth. “Why are you here?”
His cock firms fully in my grasp and I use a scuffed fingernail to toy with his frenulum hidden beneath the denim’s top button. His voice catches; the first outward sign my power affects him. “I know what you crave.”
I lean in and nuzzle his throat, then his neck, my skimming breath raising stray hairs. “And what might that be?”
The thundering pulse at my lips heightens, surfaces and swamps me. I bare my fangs, snarl and sink them deep to feast, to take my time as always and drain him of the glorious essence.
But instead there’s light. A flash. A peal like a distant church bell in my head and the thirst evaporates in an instant. Sated with one draw.
What the…
I snatch my head back, blood around my lipstick, and let out a gasp into the night. My veins pulse, ratcheted heart rate plummeting, racing thoughts slowing with decelerated breathing and I stare up into the dappled mist hanging high by the fire escapes in the alley.
His cock swells in my hand and I’m only vaguely aware of my body, as fingers of the other hand join it, snap open the buttons and free him. I sense his excitement as he issues a command:
“Take off your mask.” It’s way more than a request. “I don’t want it between us.”
Fucking prey’s telling me what to do, but I don’t seem able to resist. I obey him. Drop it and sink to my knees beside it. I level my attention to his phallus, open my mouth and engulf him.
Everything’s the same but different. My moans are muffled, the need to have him is strong—perhaps stronger than I’ve ever experienced—but my mind is at half speed. With improved clarity, I swoop blood-stained lips the length of him, taking more with each bob of my head and gentle encouragement from his hand slithering to my nape.
Soon I’m taking every inch, right to the base, slobbering like the cock whore I want to be—for him. Not an ounce of spluttering, just filthy squelches and moans, impaled on his incredible meat and ravenously devouring more. 400 years of practice have turned it into an artform.
He groans, and I know I’m getting to him when his grip tightens. Bunches my hair. The only thoughts are to please him. He’s slamming me, face first into his pubes and holding there. I roll my gaze upward and lock with his—a connection that feels… good.
I’m not used to it. ‘Please him,’ continues echoing in my mind. I stretch my mouth around his girth, taking him deeper, the vein pulsing along his shaft. My fangs are right there… yet I don’t feel the need to bite.
Unfamiliarity bubbles to the surface. I’m scared, I think. Not sure why. Where’s my blood-thirst?!
I haul myself free and stumble backward, wiping my mouth. I’ve bitten cocks before. Fed from them. Got off hearing them scream in ecstasy and terror as they simultaneously spunk and bleed into my mouth. Didn’t give a shit about human pain. But now…
What’s wrong with me?!
My wrecked nails claw at my scalp, vainly trying to stop thoughts I don’t understand. He reaches for me.
“I can help.”
Help? His brows knit. He’s concerned for me. Why? I wrench away to stand. Spin around, hissing. Nothing makes sense. The alley twists in slow motion. Pitches left and right.
I try to steady. Snap my attention up to the only thing that’s still the same, still reliable—the expanse of black sky beyond the mist.
Almost on instinct alone, I transform, hover, flap my wings and flee the alley. Flee this curse.
Flee him.
… to be continued…
