Vamprotica 2006 Part 12

"Am I dreaming?"

He came down beside her and gathered her into his strong arms, wrapping her gently within his strength. His lips found the side of her neck, sliding up over her jaw to seek out the corner of her lips, then moved to kiss her, his tongue thrusting deep inside. Her pulses pounded and there was a roaring in her ears. Her body felt so strange!

Dmitri kissed her long and deep and she felt an ache in her teeth as they seemed to grow in her mouth. He pulled back, mesmerizing her senses as he moved down to lick at her pulse, his own teeth sc.r.a.ping back and forth in a rhythm that had her p.u.s.s.y clenching in time.

"Are you hungry, my love?" His voice growled low near her ear.

"Ravenous."

"Do you recall what you said to me in the hospital? That you would rather have eternity as my bride than stand again in the sun?" She nodded as he pulled back to look into her eyes. "That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me in my many centuries."

He let her see the tears that formed in his eyes. She raised up slightly to kiss them away. He was such a tender soul, such a strong man with a beautiful heart.

"I meant every word." He kissed her again and once more her teeth felt so strange. "Dmitri," she pulled away, shock in her voice. "What's happening to me?"

His smile warmed her insides and went a long way to calming her fears. He ran one s.e.xy finger around her puffy lips, dipping inside to test the sharpness of her new fangs.

"You are becoming like I am, my love. Don't be afraid. Your fangs are coming in for the first time."

"Fangs?" She was amazed, then amused. She hadn't really thought about what it meant to become a vampire when he'd asked. Suddenly it was all too real, and kind of cool. "Who do I get to bite?"

"Only me, my love." His eyes were deadly serious. "I will provide all you need."

So saying, he climbed onto the bed, tearing off the covers in one harsh movement. She was naked underneath and oh so ready for him. He moved faster than thought to remove his robe, his c.o.c.k springing hard against her thighs as he kneed her legs apart. She was more than willing as he positioned himself, testing her only briefly and smiling with a smug male satisfaction when he found her p.u.s.s.y dripping wet.

He shoved home with a groan as he came down over her, his gleaming fangs glowing in the fiery light of the candle. Rolling, he pulled her on top of him, baring his throat.

"Take me, my love. Take all of me!"

Carly bent down over him and allowed new and exciting instincts to take over. Her body rode his as she licked her way up his throat to the strong pulse just under his ear. With an agonizing hunger, she sunk her newly-formed teeth into his flesh, gently at first, then harder when the first streams of his sweet, coppery blood hit her tongue. It was ambrosia. It was heaven. It was love made flesh.

She rode him, feeling his climax as they joined body to body, soul to soul, for the first time. It would be like this from now on, she knew in her heart. They would never be parted.

She ran her tongue over the wound, sealing them with instinctual caresses of her mouth as they came down from the pinnacle. She rested on top of him, his c.o.c.k still within her though somewhat relaxed now. She knew he would be up for more within moments, but this short time of quiet joining was precious to her.

"You are a miracle, my love." His satisfied rumble made its way through her body to her newly enhanced senses.

"No, Dmitri, it's you." She kissed his chest with little nipping kisses. "I never thought I could feel this way. I never thought I could bite anyone." She giggled as he stroked her back. "But I love you. I'll be whatever you want, if only I can stay with you."

"You are my bride, Carly." He sat up slightly so he could look into her eyes. "We will always be together. Now and forever."

Her smile held the sun. "Now and forever."

THE END.

About The Author.

Bianca D'Arc A life-long martial arts enthusiast, Bianca enjoys a number of hobbies and interests that keep her busy and entertained such as playing the guitar, shopping, painting, shopping, skiing, shopping, road trips, and did we say... um... shopping? A bargain hunter through and through, Bianca loves the thrill of the hunt for that excellent price on quality items, though she's hardly a fashionista. She likes nothing better than curling up by the fire with a good book, or better yet, by the computer, writing a good book.

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POSITIVE ENCOUNTER.

by H.A. Fowler POSITIVE ENCOUNTER.

WELCOME TO POSITIVE ENCOUNTERS!.

You are about to experience the sensual thrill of a lifetime! Dance with humanity's darkest fantasies! Try the safe, legal, erotic thrill ride-a great alternative to dangerous drugs, alcohol and risky s.e.xual behavior-that's sweeping the nation!

Encounter Donation is the recreational wave of the future! Fall in l.u.s.t with the vampire's bite!

Please remember that the following guidelines (we call them The Encounter Commandments) were created to ensure your safety and well being. It is imperative that you follow them to the letter. These are for the protection of Donor and Host alike, so please be certain you understand each one. If you have any questions, DO NOT hesitate to ask your membership coordinator!

THE ENCOUNTER COMMANDMENTS:.

Ladies should not schedule their Encounter during their monthly cycle.

Please follow all of your Host's directions precisely.

Do not eat highly acidic or spicy foods 12 hours before your Encounter.

Do not drink excessive alcohol or ingest mind-altering drugs 24 hours before your Encounter.

Please do not attempt to communicate with your Host beyond what is necessary to facilitate a successful Encounter for you both. PE is not a dating service.

Do not make direct, prolonged eye contact with your Host.

Do not exchange personal identifying information with your Host

Please do not encourage or attempt to elicit intimate behavior with your Host.

If your Host suggests that you terminate the Encounter, do so immediately! Other arrangements will be made to fulfill your contract with Positive Encounters.

10.Please do not tip your Host.

THE PAST Pa.s.sING.

It looked like any upscale medical office on the inside: soft pastel accents on warm, dark wood. Plush carpets with plastic runners for walkers or wheelchairs, softly upholstered waiting room seats, low tables covered with surprisingly recent periodicals on topics ranging from celebrity gossip to parenting. A tropical fish tank dominated one burgundy flower-papered wall, and soft, nondescript cla.s.sical music floated in the perfectly temperate and pleasantly scented air.

The young lady at the reception desk matched the decor-attractive in a clean, young way. The atmosphere made Winifred Mulligan feel comfortable and safe. Ironic, considering the location. The girl gave her a pleasant smile when she checked in, then handed her another dictionary's worth of paperwork. After the rigmarole she had gone through to get to this point-multiple interviews, tissue and blood tests, and extensive background screening-a few worksheets to fill out seemed like nothing at all.

"Welcome to Positive Encounters," the receptionist greeted, and Winnie felt welcome. Was that vampire magic, or was she really, for once in her life, doing the right thing? Finally breaking down the walls of the box she'd been living in and seeing what was on the outside?

An hour pa.s.sed as she read the booklets, signed the papers, and then, at last, went for her final consultation with Positive Encounter's Membership Coordinator, Ailean Duncan.

Ailean was, bar none, the most beautiful woman Winnie had ever seen. Incredibly tall, impossibly lean and graceful, like a cross between a supermodel and some exotic pagan statue touched by dark magick. She wondered as they spoke if the light coffee-skinned G.o.ddess with her crystal blue eyes and shining raven wing hair was one of the vampires over which she'd been obsessing from the moment she first heard about this place. How else could her skin be so flawless, her lips such a full, luscious red, like some enchanted fruit? How else could Winnie be so enthralled by her presence when she had never felt even an inkling of desire toward a woman before in her life?

Ms. Duncan gave a general description of the "Encounter Routine" -what would actually happen when Winnie and the vampire met-then presented her with a pink, laminated piece of paper with an att.i.tude of gravity usually reserved for awarding honors like n.o.bel Prizes.

She announced with matching solemnity, "These are the Encounter Commandments. It is imperative that these be followed precisely in order to ensure a safe, positive exchange."

Ms. Duncan didn't seem to notice Winnie's unwavering, intense regard of her. Or maybe she did, and it was part of the program, and so went without comment. It was certainly an interesting selling technique, having your clients unable to look away from you while you were speaking.

"Once these are clear, you can pay your membership deposit, and we can make arrangements for your first Encounter. Do you prefer male or female?"

"Male," Winnie replied automatically. The vampire in her dreams was always completely, incredibly male, her weird attraction to Ms. Duncan not withstanding, and she was straight as the Pope's pipeline to Heaven. "Definitely male."

A small, creepy smile touched Ms. Duncan's unearthly sinful lips. "Of course," she said, insincerity oozing from each syllable and making those two simple words sticky like dialogue from a dirty movie. "Whatever you wish. Now, if we could review the Commandments."

Winnie looked at the pink paper.

"You must understand, and I can't emphasize this enough," the alluring director continued, "Vampires are not people. They may look like you, act like you. When they wish, they can easily pa.s.s as mortal with no one the wiser. But as you will be placing yourself in direct contact with a hungry immortal, not a human being, you must be fully aware of how unpredictable they can be. We have created The Commandments based on tragic past experience. They exist for good reason, and every one must be followed to the letter. Do you understand?"

Winnie sat frozen, able to do nothing more than nod and try not to drool while Ms. Duncan read the list aloud in her deep, smoky, mesmerizing voice. She read slowly and succinctly, and made sure that Winnie understood each one before she moved on.

They seemed straightforward, clearly meant to keep both Donor and Host from temptation. Always be prepared for safety, try to avoid any untoward situations-good advice in any circ.u.mstance. Winnie believed it, and apparently, so did Positive Encounters.

But the middle of the list bothered her. How could she not communicate with the creature with whom she was sharing such an intimate act? The man-vampire-would be drinking her blood-giving her an o.r.g.a.s.m for heaven's sake-and she was just supposed to ignore him? Pretend he was an inanimate object, like an undead vibrator or something?

The list went on. Do not exchange personal information with your Host. Do not encourage intimate behavior with your Host. If your Host suggests you terminate the encounter, do so right away!

And the kicker, number ten: "Please do not tip your Host."

The last one just seemed petty and stupid after the dire warnings at the top of the list, a mundane splat on the colorful, dangerous canvas of the other nine.

"You talk about them like they're wild animals or something. Like they're dangerous," Winnie blurted out, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl speaking out of turn in cla.s.s, but she couldn't help herself.

Ms. Duncan nailed her with those mysterious eyes. "I told you. They are dangerous, Miss Mulligan. They are barely more than wild animals. This is a controlled environment in which you can interact with them, a petting zoo or a safari of sorts, where humans can partake of a taboo activity that under normal circ.u.mstances could lead to their death. These vampires, and those in the world outside, are simply playing at civility in order to protect their existence. To live and feed without fear of retribution or reprisal from humanity. However, there are still only these thin rules standing between you and chaos during an Encounter. It might be a nice dream to imagine taking a gentle vampire lover for some dark fantasy romance, but I a.s.sure you, the reality is far more gruesome than you would care to contemplate."

That shut Winnie up. She wrote the check and counted out the days to her next period on a small promotional calendar they gave her. When she walked out of Positive Encounters, she carried a fancy red laminated membership card with the date of her first Encounter printed neatly on the back, along with another copy of The Commandments on that same hardy card stock.

Two weeks from Sat.u.r.day at 7:00 p.m., Winifred Mulligan would meet her mysterious vampire Host, and she would follow the Commandments and his instructions to the letter, without question. She wanted an adventure, not some kind of rebellion.

He stayed away from that awful place, the abomination that only barely kept him alive, as long as he possibly could. With practice, he reached a point where he could go weeks without feeding on live blood, until the cold animal subst.i.tute from the butcher left him weak and feeble minded, wracked with chills and haunted by the fear that if he delayed another day, he might degenerate into the mindless animal bent on death and destruction he knew he could easily become.

It wouldn't be the first time. And he was so tired of fighting, he found himself more and more tempted to just let go.

But when it came to those last shreds of dignity, conscience and control, when his body demanded sustenance and nothing less than heart's blood throbbing straight from a lush vein of a living human being would keep the monster at bay, he called the b.i.t.c.h who owned his soul and told her he needed "an Encounter."

Encounter. A fix, he meant. He sold his soul over and over again just for a taste of that forbidden fruit. That liquid life he both hated and adored in equal measure. The center of his existence.

Duncan sneered at him, at the tatters of pride and sanity he clutched around him like an ancient and ragged cloak that no longer kept him warm. Once, she had been his servant, his lesser according to the dictates of their society. Now, she held him on a leash like a starving, rabid dog. She knew he was afraid to hunt, afraid he lacked the control not to kill when he fed. She recognized his aversion to victimizing others for his own gain. She comprehended that by giving him the safe haven of her abhorrent "club," she was humiliating him as much as saving him, over and over again.

She relished this, her favorite game: p.r.i.c.king the pride of the man she once called "Master." He and all of his family, now no doubt rotting and burning in h.e.l.l, deserved worse. What ever made them think it was acceptable to own other human beings? It seemed fitting that it was he who was reduced to the least of his parts-his hunger, rather than his back for labor. Dante omitted the owners of slaves in his rolls of the d.a.m.ned, but Briggs thought this low point in his unlife would fit perfectly into the Inferno.

No matter now. Duncan began her revenge the night she murdered him in his big plantation bed, and took it every night since the terrible craving had yoked and enslaved him to the aberration that was Positive Encounters.

He moved slowly, exhausted and famished, but still found the energy to make a face at the ridiculous name and all the sterile, unnatural rules and regulations attached to it. Such a mortal construction-Duncan was more human than any vampire he'd ever known. Who else but human beings would pare the sacred and profound source of their mortal fears down to its most bare and lifeless skeleton, and then sell that as a commodity, binding the very creatures that are the source of that fear? Such hubris! Such naivete! Impotent little G.o.ds, every one.

Come, lamb, and lie down with the lion. So long as you don't look him in the eye or give him your phone number or ask him to kiss you, you can leave afterward with all your limbs and essence and self-image intact. Just sign this release form on the dotted line and like magick, you are safe from fang and claw and tearing hunger.

Sacrilege. But for starvation and her sister, gory murder, he would never profane and blaspheme against nature again. Since this was his very special, very personal torture, he was afforded privileges his fellow wh.o.r.es were not. These somewhat lessened the humiliation of being reduced to a set of venomous fangs.