VAMPYRE NIGHTS

Feature Writer: Yotna El’toub
Feature Title: Vampyre Nights
Story Codes: Slow, F/F, F/f, MC, WS, TG
Warning: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own local laws. Please note and understand the content codes for this story.
Notes: The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.

 

Vampyre nights

 

Chapter One: The auction room.

Joyce relaxed into her seat in the crowded room. It was so good to get sometime to her self and leave the dig behind. The last couple of months had been a constant battle against time and the construction crews. The auctioneer appeared and the murmur in the saleroom fell to a polite whispering. Joyce shifted in her seat and was able to get a clear view past the substantial man in front of her, she hoped he would stay put for the next hour. On the whole Joyce enjoyed being what the polite would call “petite” and the direct “damn short” but it did present a few problems from time to time.

The heavily bearded auctioneer began a deep practiced singsong chant “Item one, a highly desirable fine oak chest…”

Joyce drifted; she had always had a fascination for sales, ever since her daddy had taken her to her first one aged four. Although he had passed on two years back she liked to keep up the tradition. Just like her father before her she seldom bought, but loved to watch the buying and buyers, she had no idea why. She remained in this blissful state for some minutes before the large man in front of her realigned his buttocks on the thinly padded seat to ease the numbness. Joyce tutted quietly and squirmed her slight form to regain her view.

“Item fifteen, an exciting one this ladies and gentlemen!”

The auctioneer fabricated, trying to generate some excitement for an item that had no pre-sale bids.

“Reputed to be from the beautiful, but dangerous home of Countess Bathory an ebony handled letter opener”

“Who will start the bidding at $50 for this slice of macabre European history?”

His greedy eyes scanned the room eagerly looking for a bid.

“Come now, at $20, this implement surely sat in that wicked palm”

Again the greedy stare.

“Twenty dollars I am bid, any increase on twenty, going once, twice, sold to the little lady in the forth row” The bearded man grinned directly at Joyce.

“Number” he queried.

“I’m, sorry” Joyce replied in confusion

“Your bidding number, for the opener” He eyed her in a slightly old-fashioned way.

It suddenly came to her; she had raised her right hand without even realizing, embarrassed Joyce replied.

“Sorry, 378”

Quickly the impatient man noted the number and moved on smoothly to the next item.

Joyce waited patiently in line to collect her unintended purchase.

Finally it was her turn.

“378, lot 15” the tall blonde teen-aged boy called to his unseen colleague.

A second later a “Jiffy” bag was passed to the uninterested lad “Twenty bucks, Ma’am” he uttered sliding the packet toward Joyce. In return she placed a crisp bill in his waiting hand

“Enjoy your purchase” the boy attempted to smile, but failed.

Joyce walked in sunshine back to her downtown apartment, her handbag weighted down by her unwanted purchase. Closing the door behind her she sighed and dropped the jiffy bag unopened on to the hall table. She walked to the kitchen to make an espresso; she obliviously needed something to kick her into the real world.

 

Chapter Two: Serendipity.

Joyce sat upright in bed and gaped at the sunshine streaming in though the green curtains. She’d forgotten to set the alarm! Glancing at the clock only confirmed her suspicion, shit it was 10 O’clock! As the hot water streamed down her body she wondered how she had slept so long. After making her coffee she had walked to the bedroom to change for her customary Sunday night stroll in central park. After stripping she had rested on the bed for a second, just to clear her head – and awoken a full eighteen hours later! Mind you she did feel great this morning, the stinging sports shower-head had certainly worked its magic today.

Wearing her white bathrobe she headed out of the steaming room and headed for the kitchen. Two strong coffees later she was ready to meet the world, and headed back to her bedroom to dress. On the way she noticed the pile of mail, wandered up the hallway and shuffled the pack of letters in her hands. All but one she placed in the “later” rack on the hall table, one un-stamped, handwritten letter intrigued her in its thickness. She ran her nail ineffectively along the sealed edge, great! The sender’s habit of sealing letters with scotch tape had just torn her remaining long nail. It was hard enough to get her hands to look like a woman’s what with the archaeological work, now due to some fool her prize nail was split.

Her hand reached for the jiffy bag and slid out her previous days purchase, she truly loved serendipity. In a flash the contents of the offending envelope sat in her hands. Joyce read the flowing script with some difficulty. “Contained within provenance for lot fifteen; due to a staff oversight this was not supplied with your purchase, sincere apologies, Franklin Howard.

Serendipity wasn’t that great after all; she dropped the now uninteresting wad of papers with the rest. Joyce went to put down the opener, but her hand wouldn’t let go! In an instant the temperature of the hall seemed to plummet, her breath condensed before her eyes. Then just as quickly, everything was back to normal. The opener clattered to the table unnoticed as Joyce rubbed her goose-pimpled arms aggressively. Feeling as if someone had just walked across her grave she fled to the bedroom to dress. Slipping off her robe she caught sight of herself in the wardrobes mirror, her nipples stood ridgedly erect, larger than she ever remembered seeing them. A cold flush hit her again; quickly she pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Joyce made a mental note to get someone in to check the heating.

 

Chapter Three: Monday blues.

Claudia watched the beat up Ford swing in through the chain-link gates and park up, straightening up she gently massaged the tired muscles of her lower back. She was glad to see her boss making a relaxed start to the week, driving her self as hard as she had been recently had to end sometime soon. Brushing the mud from her hands she walked over to the car.

“Sorry no part-time positions going” she joked.

“Something wrong with my heating, I’ll need to get the plumbers in,”

Joyce replied smiling broadly “Any developments in my absence?”

“Nothing major, oh Kirk was looking for you earlier!” Claudia winked “I think he’s taken a shine to you.”

Joyce grimaced “He just wants our sorry Asses out of way of his diggers I expect” Joyce made her way to the site office.

“Hey Claudia, put some coffee on, I’ll need it by the time I get out.”

She rapped her knuckles on the green door, a small white sign hung at a jaunty angle “Dan Kirk – Site Manager.”

Without pausing Joyce strode confidently in. A blonde suntanned man wearing a loud check shirt and jeans looked up from the complex drawing on his desk.

“Hi Joy, good weekend? Does this late start mean you guys are nearly done?”

“Its Joyce, yeah the weekend was fine, and no we need two more weeks to complete the far side – over by the brook” she replied, with the feeling she was about to here some bad news.

“I’m sorry!” Dan sheepishly extended his hand “Arrived first post.” She took the letter, read the first paragraph and a half and then sat heavily on the grubby chair, “Wednesday, this Wednesday – its not possible.”

Dan eyed her closely trying to decide the best tack.

“Why not look on it as a holiday, you’ve put a lot in?” Joyce scoffed.

“Unlike you guys, I can’t afford to just jet off, so mid-October in New York – how could I resist a holiday. Anyway you miss the point! After three months of digging we are close to the Nave, and you want me to stop and walk away!”

“Calm down, you need to forget going any further, it’ll take you the time you’ve got left just to tidy the site, we start seven am sharp on Wednesday come hell or high archaeologist! You know I’m just doing my job” Dan snapped back.

“So was Stalin!” She replied before throwing the door open and tearing out into the cold mud.

Over an agonized half hour she poured out her venom to Claudia, who nodded, sympathized and worried with her. Finally Joyce admitted defeat and turning to her friend said.

“Let’s start, we’re finished here, like it or not!” Claudia asked gently.

“Can you cast your expert eye over one more find before we tell the others, and start to pack?”

“Why not,” she sighed, “What have you got?”

They stood before the shallow trench, Claudia got down on her haunches.

“Just there”

She pointed. Joyce squinted she could just make out a curving edge in the yellow-brown mud.

“I thought it was another Altar plate but it looks to thick” Joyce agreed, she clambered down into the hollow and crouched, using a cotton bud she carefully cleaned a small section, it was gold, a thick decorative gold frame. A few minutes careful work and the hand-sized fragment of mirror came free. Joyce talked as she ran a little water onto the dull surface and cleaned away the grime.

“Hungarian, or some where close, looks to be carved with symbols to ward off evil, mid 16th to 17th century.” Claudia squatted hurriedly jotting notes, “That has to be the oldest relic we’ve found here,” she commented.

“By far!” replied Joyce fascinated examining the dull mirrors pitted surface.

Before her eyes the mirror regained its reflective silvering, suddenly its surface was filled by the image of her crouched colleagues groin. She could clearly see the fullness of the outer lips, the deep valley dividing them and the hint of darker hued patch right at the core. At the very edges of the shorts darkened puffy skin, lightly dusted with fine blonde hairs emerged. Joyce’s heart beat slowly, just as the pulse in her temples; she seemed to be floating in a sea of what? Indecision, desire or fear of the unknown, her life seemed suspended by a thread. Thump, thump, thump, and time stood still, her heart slowed to no pace at all. From nowhere an arm closed around her shoulders, and shocked she jumped from back into the day from her dreaming state. Claudia’s familiar voice sounded in her ear.

“Are you OK?”

Her friends voice was full of concern. Joyce recoiled from the close contact it felt too intimate, too strong.

“I’m fine,” laughed the academic uncertainly.

“Well you look as if you’ve just seen a ghost. Look, Joyce take a break; I can organize the breakdown over the next couple of days, no sweat!”

Joyce still looked shaken. “Maybe you’re right, this has taken more out of me than I thought.”

Without further comment she slipped the dull artifact into her pocket and headed a little dazed towards the sanctuary of her car. It was only after she had pulled away that Claudia realized the find was missing; Joyce must have taken it with her! Claudia decided not to disturb Joyce in her current state of mind; it could easily wait until Wednesday. It wasn’t until then that the catalog finally closed for the site. Claudia would call around on Joyce’s flat and retrieve the mirror before then; I’ll give her some space Claudia decided thoughtfully.

 

Chapter four: Free days and holidays.

Sitting at home Joyce felt more than a little foolish, Claudia would be rushed off her feet, and taking the brunt of the crews reaction to suddenly finding that they only digging they would do this week was in their own gardens. All because of what! She couldn’t really think about it logically, because of a passing infatuation with Claudia’s nether regions! It was laughable they had shared tents over the years on various digs, showered together in the jungle, with never a second glance, but today. Shaking her head she tried to forget the incident, once again a chill ran down her spine.

“Perhaps I’m coming down with something,” she thought, but now she was home she felt fine just the odd shiver.

She walked to the cabinet in the bathroom and pulled the customary poses, checking eyes, tongue, throat and glands in front of its tiny mirror. Just to be on the safe side Joyce popped the silver glinting thermometer under her tongue and waited thirty seconds, 98.4F no problem. Shutting the door she wondered about the menopause, could you get cold flushes as well as hot? Then she laughed at her own pessimistic thinking; either was hopefully a bit unlikely at 27.

Still musing she left the bathroom and brushed against her coat, something heavy in the pocket banged her arm. She was confused, as her normal pocket contents only ran to tissues and the odd bag of candies, Joyce slipped in her searching hand. To her utter amazement it emerged clutching the artifact she had recovered that day! To hell with the menopause this was looking more like Alzheimer’s by the minute. First she had bought an auction lot she had no interest in and now the most valuable relic from the dig was in her pocket like a discarded candy wrapper.

Joyce turned and instead of heading back to the lounge as originally intended she walked to her study and logged on to her PC. After half an hours surfing she felt much more reassured on the dementia score, it was pretty unlikely at her age. She had booked her self into this week’s well-woman clinic on Thursday; a check up seemed a reasonable plan.

Tomorrow the plumbing would be fixed; well it would if cyber-plumbers were any more reliable than their real cousins.

She then turned her attention to the handful of mirror sitting by her mouse pad. After scouring several sites she was no real closer to its origins, but there was a surprise – the markings were not on the mirror to ward off evil, they were intended to attract it! Now the bug truly bit, why would a mirror designed to act as a conduit for evil be found close to a churches nave?

She had to retrieve the rest of the mirror, it may tell the full story and in any case it looked to be an increasingly important find. Joyce rang Claudia’s mobile, after the predictable

“Hi, Claudie?”

She asked her colleague to join her for a coffee and meal at Luigi’s.

“About six, great! No much better now, bye”

Joyce went to the bedroom and dressed warmly before slinging some old tools into the back of her ’78 T-Bird. At a half past five she left for the short drive and in no time was pulling into the lot behind Luigi’s. Claudia was chatty at dinner and had clearly risen to the new responsibility well, as one long bout of laughter faded; Joyce looked more serious.

“I have something well, unorthodox to ask of you?”

“Sounds serious, fire away” Claudia replied lightly.

“It could be serious, career-wise if we’re caught” Joyce indicated.

“Caught, doing what?” asked a confused Claudie. “Getting the rest of the mirror,” Her voice lowered to a whisper “that’s what!”

Claudie looked even more confused.

“But the digs closed, how are you going…”

Realization hit the girls face, the clothes weren’t just an odd grunge phase of evening wear, and Joyce meant to dig tonight!

“I really don’t know why I let you talk me into this” Claudie said with the slightest of slurs.

“I didn’t, you know I think it was the forth bottle of Chianti.”

Two figures stood just outside the site entrance Joyce slipped her soon to be redundant security pass out, and they were heading for the far side of the site in seconds.

“Jesus, I’m cold, I wished you’d given me some idea about this before I dressed for dinner” chattered Claudia.

“If I had, would you have come?”

Claudie shrugged off the question.

“O.K. keep the flashlight there, no a little higher, and left – perfect!” Joyce uttered from the slight pit.

For twenty minutes nothing, then in frustration she had switched her attention to the other edge of the pit, and bingo! Three more pieces laid in the sacking on the floor of the trench.

“Look Claudie you can collect these first thing Wednesday, for now lets split”.

As Joyce drove away from the site she felt exhilarated, maybe it was the booze, maybe not. Claudia crouched forward to get what benefit she could from the cars ancient heater. As she dropped Claudie by the Metro she pecked her on the cheek, there were no buzzers and bells, great things were back to normal!

“Look I owe you one for tonight Claudie, there’s a lot of people wouldn’t have risked that” Joyce said entirely accurately.

“Well at least we got something out of the months, what are you going to use it for?” asked the girl.

“I hope that if I can get enough information on this quickly enough I maybe able to halt the work while we finish. This find could be that significant.”

“Can you at least give me a week off,” Claudia laughed, “I’d made plans to decorate the bathroom.”

“See you Wednesday Claudie and thanks again, bye.”

 

Chapter Five: On reflection.

The newspaper spread on the table supported the four pieces of mirror as Joyce first cleaned and then started to re-assemble as much of the original frame as possible. After 2 hours of painstaking repositioning, and a little manual manipulation the frame, other than a three-inch gap, was back into what probably was fairly close to its original configuration. Joyce went to the kitchen to clean the mud from her hands. She glanced up at the clock ten past twelve, she wouldn’t research any more this evening, just tidy up and call it a day.

As Joyce carefully washed her hands she noticed a faint red mark on her right palm. It stretched down from between her forefinger and thumb in a shallow slope towards her palms middle. It looked like mild cooking burn from touching an over hot utensil. As she dabbed her palms dry she pressed a little harder than usual to test the severity of the wound, no pain or unusual sensation. Just another of life’s little mysterious events.

Slipping the oversize Simpson tee shirt over her head, Joyce remembered to set the alarm for the morning, and then realized there was no need. Nothing to wake for, it had been University when she had last been in this situation, nearly six years ago. Although she didn’t really feel tired Joyce fell asleep very easily in to a deep dreamless slumber.

On the hall table the blade of opener wobbled lightly then a little more violently, just as if a heavy truck was passing. There was no truck, no traffic of any kind. Another wobble and very slowly the dark blade started to shine a dull red color. The color was mirrored in the living room as the first uncovered fragment took on an unearthly glow.

Back in the bedroom Joyce had begun to dream, and moved a little in her sleep. She had the feeling that someone was sitting on her chest, making hard for her to breathe. In her dream she opened her eyes, before her was the image of Claudia’s crotch, just as she had seen it in the mirror. She saw some movement a pale object moved towards the top of the shorts waistband. It was a hand; on the little finger it wore a ring just like the one on Joyce’s right hand, the hand that lay twitching on top of the thick comforter. The dream hand pushed itself confidently past the waistband and pushed the zip of the shorts up into a small undulating hump.

Joyce sighed, as the hand continued its downward journey, finally the fingertips wriggled down over the humped pubis and into the delta below. The small damp spot started to soak out further into the fabric. The now damp material clung to the moving fingers and the clearly defined folds of the underlying vulva. The pressure on Joyce’s breasts increased as the excited ass started to move in time to the detached but loving hand. The weight eased and the image faded, to Joyce it now felt as if she could float once the pressure had alleviated, and her body sat slowly upright in bed.

Joyce stood for along time by the hall table gazing sightless at the opener, before her right hand grasped it firmly, her left hand to wrapped around the bottom of the handle. She raised it as if to plunge it into a sacrifice, and then stretched down. Carefully the knife lifted the hem of the “Lisa” tee shirt centrally between her legs. The fabric was pulled taught against the blade. In one continuous motion the blade was brought swiftly up slicing the fabric from the tattered hem through to the splitting neckline.

Joyce’s condensing breath flowed over her skin and between the peaks of her breasts. As the mist reached her nipples they tightened forming hard peaks. The blade descended and flattened against the cushion of her abundant dark pubic hair. Slowly her hands swept from side to side, in a pendulum motion. A few detached hairs fell onto the bare wooden floor followed by the blade itself.

As images of Claudie swam through her dreams, Joyce’s fingers explored the wetness of her own deep furrow. Her minds eye watched the skillful hand strip the saturated shorts from Claudie’s lower body. Joyce’s head lolled back onto its shoulders, her mouth hung fully open, as the uncovered gash of Claudie’s sex bore down towards it. Standing in the deserted cold hall, Joyce’s tongue extended into the damp air as it rolled against the imagined labia of her dream lover. The slightly crouched small figure started to buck against her fingers as sweet fluids bathed her thighs.

In the intense dream the same wetness flowed over her spasming tongue and slipped liberally down her throat and chin. Joyce’s eyelids opened widely as fully awake and crouched in the darkened hall her pleasure hit her, her body steamed to an incredible orgasm. Her tongue lashed the air in perfect time to the frenzied pumping of her hips. Joyce straightened up and caught sight of her image in the hall mirror, it didn’t startle her it amazed her; she looked wild even wanton in her desire. The image in the mirror shook its head in confusion, turned and walked away to the bedroom.

In the darkened room the only dim light came from the mirror on the door to the en-suite shower, in a small fragment of the mirror the dim red image of a tongue was just visible. The girl woke and shivered slightly; maybe she had picked up a chill, she really hadn’t been dressed for an adventure.

Rolling over she felt the dampness between her thighs and smiled to her self, wet dreams; at her age, still it had been powerful; she remembered the softness of the lips against her. But there was something else, something at the back of her mind that made it particularly exciting, but it was gone. As dreams do it had already started to fade. Claudia rolled over and fell back into a peaceful sleep.

 

Chapter Six: Too much detail!

The alarm sounded at six-thirty, rousing Joyce from a deep sleep, but rather than feeling drained after her disturbed night she felt great. What an odd dream! She vaulted from under the covers and stopped dead. The tattered remains of her tee shirt flapped around her exposed body, it wasn’t a dream! Still not believing it real she walked into the hallway, on the floor the opener stared back at her disbelieving eyes. Joyce was deeply perplexed even mystified, but she couldn’t be worried her mood was too light. She felt just too excited, although she couldn’t pin down why? Oh, to hell with it, life was too short and she had too much to find out about the mirror in a short space of time.

Two hours of searching and re-searching the net had pulled up quite a bit of information. The real bonus had been the Smithsonian Hungarian weekend seminar; the links from that session in April had revealed much of the symbolism on the mirrors frame. Not only to attract evil, but to trap it, condense it even focus it. Now the church link made more sense, the belief may have been that the mirror would absorb evil, and keep it from the world. The church would have been a place of safety, to prevent the captured evil being returned to the world. This would make the mirror a unique artifact, what else might be there in the nave? Joyce was certain she had a good case to delay the building work if not even prevent it entirely. She started to peruse her shelves for a particular book on Nave bosses when the doorbell rang twice.

Wondering just who would be at her door at eight thirty she was a little careful and left the door chain in place. Joyce opened the door a crack to ask “Joyce Griffiths, yes?”

“Online Plumbers you e-mailed us?”

“Off course, long night totally forgot, sorry!”

She freed the chain and swung the door back to a boiler-suited figure, gesturing them towards the kitchen.

“The boilers in here and that’s about all I know” Joyce said to the plumber.

“Is there a chance of a coffee before I begin, I’ve just come from an all night job?” the quiet voice asked.

“Sure, I’m just about to brew up myself, take a seat” The slim figure dropped the tool bag beside the pine table.

“Could I wash away some of the grime in your sink” Asked the quiet voice.

“Sure feel free!” replied Joyce as she filled the espresso maker. She turned back to see half the boiler suit hanging down and an expanse of naked muscular skin.

“Sorry about this but sometimes you get confined in such small spaces that it like working in a sauna,” the plumber said.

Although she was a little put out Joyce decided to keep it friendly, a plumber who turns up on time and on the right day is to be treasured.

“No problem, I would have let you use the bathroom if I’d realized.”

“Just as long as I’m not embarrassing you ma’am.”

Joyce watched the polished muscles move, there was something quite attractive about that strong back.

“I said as long as I’m not embarrassing you.”

The plumber turned bright blue eyes looked out from under a curly blonde mop of hair, the hands still wiping soap away from the mouth and chin.

“No, not at all” Joyce lied to the attractive eyes.

“Great, thanks!” with a deft touch the plumber launched the towel back to the rack.

Joyce found her gaze directed straight at the plumber’s chest, in place of the expected expanse of blonde frizzy hair, there were two small boyish breasts with pierced nipples!

“Oh, you’re a girl, I’m sorry, it was just that from the back” Joyce felt her face coloring.

“Yeah, I work out a bit,” and so saying she flexed an impressive biceps before pulling the boiler suit back over her shoulders.

“So you keep getting cold blast, sounds like air in your system, I’ll just drink this and get right on it.”

Joyce went back to her work on the PC, shortly there was a tap at the door.

“It looks as if you’ve got a blockage in the circulating pump, I’ll need to power down while I take a look” The girl nodded to the PC.

“Oh, O.K., I’ll wrap up in a second” Joyce replied logging out of the site.

“If you’ve got a key for the radiator in the hall I’ll bleed it first” said the plumber returning to the hall.

“I think it’s on the hall table, but most everything else is as well, hang on!”

As Joyce arrived the plumber had just moved the table a little for access, this was just enough of a motion to send the “later” rack crashing to the floor.

“Shit, that is so you Gina!” The plumber cursed.

“Its O.K., no harm done, look you even found the key,” Joyce laughed “besides which I need to sort this lot out.”

She bent and picked up the wedge of mail in her right hand and the letter opener in the other, a chill ran through the hall.

“There did you feel that” asked Joyce.

“Sure did, I’m not so sure that’s the boiler though.”

“Oh well whatever it is can you sort it out?”

“I’ll sure try ma’am” Gina replied looking a little puzzled.

Joyce carried the mail back to the PC sat & turned to look dumbly at the blank screen. Realizing her mistake she threw the paper work down on her desk to sort through. At least I don’t need power for this, she thought. Then something caught her eye, one of the auctioneer’s pieces of paper had fallen open; on the corner of the document was a seal, it had the form of one of the symbols on the mirrors edge embossed into the once red wax.

The document was a decree dated 1583 to one Stephen Bathory the large seal on the bottom of the page actually carried three of the symbols not the one she had originally glanced!

Holding the paper between her hands, she noticed a smudge of red on her left palm; she rubbed her fingers against it, no difference. She suddenly realized it was a mirror image of the one on her other hand. The shape was familiar; she picked up the opener and laid it across one palm and then the next, the imprint of the handle fitted the marks exactly! As she stared down in confusion at her hands Gina walked to the door

“Powers back! The pumps O.K. just gummed up, servicing not a big thing for you?” Gina quipped.

“Hey are you O.K. ma’am.”

Gina walked across and glanced down at the hands that the woman stared at; each hand had a bright red whelp on it.

“That’s nasty, did you burn yourself?”

Joyce remained silent.

“Lets get some water on them, now” Gina said steering the confused woman to the kitchen.

Gina held Joyce’s wrists and let the cold faucet run water over her palms. Joyce felt distant, it seems she was detached from the world, slowly she became aware of a distinct sensation, she could feel the hard piercing’s through the boiler suit brushing her back. Joyce’s hands reversed the grip and pushed Gina’s strong wet hands to her breasts. The surprised palms felt the strong pressure of two nipples erecting under them. Gina span the woman in her arms.

“Now it’s your turn to surprise me, what is your name?”

“Joyce, but I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never…”

“That I believe; now luckily for you, I have.”

Gina had to tip her head a long way down to reach Joyce’s trembling lips but an active tongue hurriedly seeking hers rewarded the effort. Joyce groaned as her tongue met the stud in the tongue she explored, at that same moment Joyce’s nipples dragged across the stiff pierced peaks of Gina’s. Excited but confused Joyce pulled away

“I can’t!”

Gina’s eyes reinforced the action of her hand as it slid down the front of Joyce’s jeans.

“Yes, you can!”

Yes she did.

Joyce awoke in the dim room, the bright sunlight trying to force its way past the green curtains. She looked at the sleeping woman beside her, and marveled at her stamina. Gina slept on as the slim hands explored first her shoulders musculature and then slipped to her tight breasts. Joyce smiled her hands crossed the expanding nipples; she felt a growing pleasure from both her groin and her palms. She still wondered about the lust she suddenly felt for her own sex, it seemed perverse; but it was far more intense that anything she had felt before, she quaked softly inside.

Her palms returned to the hardening peaks, and the room pulsed with a dim red light. Joyce’s desire doubled, trebled and then flew off the scale. Beneath her stationary hands the nipples grew searching for suckling lips. Gina’s eyes flashed open, there was a moment of fear and then pure red heat. The girls orgasmically writhed to a mutual release, before the room dimmed back to its previously grey state, as if in honor of their post-climatic exhaustion.

Joyce woke with a start, panicked for no apparent reason. Gina slept on silently besides her, her presence calming Joyce’s heart. She rose and made two steaming coffees, carefully balancing the cups she returned to the crumpled bed.

“Gina, coffee!” There was no response.

“Hey, lazy!”

She reached for Gina’s exposed shoulder touching it lightly; at once her hand recoiled from the cold dead skin. She pulled back the covers and listened for something, please anything! She stood stiffly upright and gazed down on the uncovered torso, then she ran to the curtains and drew the widely. Her eyes hadn’t tricked her in the dim light; from each of Gina’s pierced buds a thin line of blood ran down the taught skin stretched over the gentle mounds to the sleek rib cage bellow. Instinct made Joyce glance at her hands, the smallest trace of dried blood pooled on her palms near the center of the strange markings. Her face a mask of pure terror Joyce fell to her knees tears streaming down her contorted cheeks.

 

Chapter Seven: Of friends and acquaintances.

Slowly, agonizingly Joyce’s mind fought its way back to the surface, to sanity, but also to harshest of realities. She had to do something, the authorities should be informed; the consequences appalled her, the interviews, the Media and even – prison! No, she couldn’t cope with that, it maybe right, but it was also impossible. Joyce’s mind raced, she looked around the room for guidance, and realized how long she had sat in confused sobbing lethargy. No sunlight came in through the open curtains; she stood slowly easing her cramped muscles.

Still naked she searched in the semi-darkness for her quickly discarded clothes. She threw them on with similar haste, her mind still a chaos of tumbling thoughts. Drawing the curtains tightly she turned on the bedside light, the solution looked back at her, the soon to be redundant site pass!

Loading Gina’s body into the T-Bird had nearly proved impossible, the awkward positioning of the comforter covered corpse, plus the solidity training had given Gina almost defeated Joyce small frame and muscle.

Thankfully rolling the cadaver from the door of the “bird” onto the mud proved somewhat easier. Joyce knew from what she had seen from Kirk’s plans that one of the first jobs to be undertaken was the filling of the piled deep holes with concrete to form the foundations. The dig on this part of the site finished weeks ago and preparations for the new center were well advanced here. Joyce looked sorrowfully at the body for one last\ time; then without ceremony she slid it towards its resting place.

A soft thud sounded from the depths bellow and soil was shoveled in just deep enough to hide the body from the casual glance of a hurried construction worker. Joyce stood at the top of the shaft panting tears welled up in her eyes, never knowingly religious she found her self muttering a deeply felt impromptu prayer “Sleep well Gina, God Bless” After a few minutes tearful vigil Joyce tidied the back seat of her car and drove towards the exit gate, her headlights caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure on the far side of the site; Joyce froze with the realization that someone was a potential witness to her callous act!

The bird rolled up to the edge of the trench, a familiar figure was searching frantically through the mud. “What are you doing Claudia” Joyce asked her voice still strained with emotion. The figure turned In the bright lights like a frightened rabbit, the dilated pupils looked out from a mud stained face.

“Had to come, more, more – mine!”

Claudia’s voice rang insanely.

“More what? What have you got there?” asked Joyce.

Claudia held something clutched to her dirty sweatshirt covered chest.

“Mine! Must find more, must find all.”

Claudia said in a suspicious accent.

“Can I see, please Claudie?”

Claudia stretched forward her hands between them sat the last piece of mirror frame, it was etched with one of the unidentified symbols from the decree!

“No, no, don’t touch! “Claudie screamed.

Claudie bolted into the intense darkness outside of the arc of the bird’s bright headlight beams. Joyce ran back to the cars passenger door, swung it open and fanned the torch she kept in the door pocket around the site looking desperately for her friend; there was no sign, it was as if she was never there in the first place!

Joyce had driven home in total confusion; just what was happening to Her life? It really no longer made any form of sense! Once back to the relative sanctity of her apartment she could not face going to sleep in the chilling bedroom and pulled the trailing soiled comforter behind her into her study, the computer had restarted with the power-up and sat in all its normality, taunting her. She logged on and searched for details of the remembered symbol, what she found shocked her to the center of her being the final symbol roughly translated to; to be held in the host’s body for ever.

If this was accurate it meant that all the evil collected by the mirror would be passed onto a host; could this be she? Search as she might no more could be found. There was only one thing to do, drive down to the Smithsonian and dig through the archives for clarification. She looked at her desk clock one-fifteen, if she left now she could park up in Washington and take the early Metro, she’d be there when the archive opened in the morning! The decision made, Joyce left at once in a blind rush, leaving the unlatched door to swing gently behind her.

 

Chapter Eight: Unexpected findings.

She sat in the darkened book lined room she felt at once both safe and treasured. An academic surrounded by academia, her nimble fingers flew though the pages her eyes gulping information, hungry for any answer. She flicked to a page, at the top sat the Bathory crest she searched the handle of the opener for any connection, none, then as she replaced it on the table she noticed a fine dust fall from the very tip of the hilt delicately she polished with her finger tip, and then as she started to reveal it more urgently with her nail; the tell tale three upward flicking lines drawn together by the straight line running down the left hand side of the hilt tip – it was unmistakable; the center of the shield in the crest.

If not a relic of Erzebet herself it was decidedly Bathory in origin, this was the genuine article. Curiosity caused Joyce to look more closely at the opener, the blade was wrong it looked original but wrong, hurriedly she pulled her eyeglass from a pocket. The edges of the blade had been ground to make it a flat edged opener, there must once have been a sharp edge, Joyce dropped the opener to the table with a clatter. Some of the other readers glared at the offending woman, who sat with her hand clamped to her mouth, just succeeding in keeping her rushed freeway breakfast in place. All morning she had read through descriptions of the Countesses crimes against servant-girls, peasants and finally lower nobility. She had beaten, bitten and sliced her victims to gain their precious blood, sliced open their breasts, with this knife! Joyce stared in horror as she weighed up the meaning for her own sanity.

Clearly she was influenced, no altered by contact with the knife, but how did the mirror and knife relate to one another the co-incidence was too great, they could not surely have both come from the same cursed family?

The answer once it was found was a resounding no, there was no link. The only association was due to the mirrors ability to trap, focus and pass on evil, there were similarities, both Eastern European, both of the same approximate age and carrying symbols of arcane significance but no true linkage. This made Joyce feel safer for some reason, then she realized the only link was proximity.

If she gave the knife to the Smithsonian the two items would be separated, and surely that would reduce if not completely halt any linkage.

Now she hit her problem, in her rush to leave she had left the provenance at home, without it there was no interest, a nice theory, but proof was needed. She would need to return home and collect the information. She looked at her watch three-thirty, if she left now, no that was crazy she hadn’t slept. Motel room shower, sleep and then home tomorrow morning that she might just manage. It was only once in the air-conditioned room she wondered why she hadn’t mentioned the mirror to the curator, pure oversight, she really was getting forgetful.

Claudia awoke in her favorite arm chair and looked down at the collection of muddy artifacts in her torn hands. Her mind was clearer now, she knew someone had interrupted her working last night, but when she returned later all had been quiet. She was pretty confident she now had all the remaining mirror fragments, although she couldn’t be certain until she retrieved the others from Joyce, tonight she couldn’t, wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. She stood a little stiffly after her long chair-bound slumber, glancing towards the mirror, she saw her self. It looked as if a bag lady had broken into her home! She took her self to the bathroom to repair the damage. She really couldn’t afford to go out looking like this, it could draw attention; and that might stop her completing her vital task!

At least the darkness and mud had passed – it had taken her hours to get home, clean her self, and then get some rest in the darkened bedroom. Now after just a few hours something was disturbing her, waking her when sleep called so strongly. She struggled to the hall trying to avoid the painful light on her sensitive eyes. She opened the door and spoke dry mouthed to the figure that was obscured from sight by the evening sunset; making it into a shimmering unwelcome silhouette.

“Yes, what?” “Can I speak to Joyce, please?” A polite female voice asked.

“Joyce? Why would she be here?” The Gina’s voice cracked.

“Because it’s her home! Who are you anyway?”

The shadow broke from its polite indifference and swept past all obstacles into the flat.

“Me, I’m Gina Tewksbury, this is my home, and who the hell are you lady?” She asked the girl rushing down the hall.

The two women faced each other warily; Gina was still trying to understand why she had come back to Joyce’s home thinking it was her own. Claudia for her part was trying to understand how this girl had so quickly established her self as one of Joyce’s friends, a close enough friend to have free access to her apartment while she was away! Finally Claudia spoke.

“I’ve come to collect the other parts of this,” she fished in her backpack and brought out the fragment wrapped in newspaper.

“Have you seen anything like that in the apartment?”

“Sure. In the study near the PC, but you’re not taking anything until Joyce gets back and checks you out lady!” Gina warned.

Claudia agreed, temporarily, to save any argument and both of them went to the study. Claudia sat for sometime re-orientating the existing and new fragments, eventually in frustration Gina bent forward putting one hand on Claudia’s left shoulder she used the other to re-arrange two pieces, the mirror was complete! Gina whispered in a breathy voice.

“I may not be qualified as an archaeologist but I sure have done a lot of jig-saws in my time.”

Claudia ignored her gazing at the completed mirror and wondering how to take it, this girl didn’t seem the sort to give in too easily. Bent in her position close to the seated woman’s neck Gina first became aware of the scent, a tangy metallic fragrance that made her nipples tingle in anticipation. Then there was the thunderous seductive pulse beating inside her head, her heartbeat was slowly falling into time with the woman’s.

Claudia spoke. “I really must take this artifact, it belongs to the project, Joyce knew it had to be returned today!”

Gina stepped back her eyes shone with just a hint of dim red light.

“The mirror stays here in its home” her voice carried a powerful threat.

“I don’t think you understand I must have the mirror, I must be near it.”

Claudia’s logic started to give way to her passion, she picked up a wicked shard of mirror glass and rushed at Gina. Gina stood her ground smiling calmly, she spoke in a soporific voice.

“Now calm down and drop the glass, drop it!”

Claudia froze mid-stride and mouthed silently.

“Drop it!”

The fragment fell to the carpet followed by drops of Claudia’s flowing crimson blood. Gina stooped and picked up the shard and returned it lovingly to its position on the desk. She returned to Claudia’s side.

“Give me your hand, I’ll take care of it,” she whispered to the stationary woman.

Unthinkingly Claudia raised her hand and placed it in Gina’s outstretched palm. Gina lifted her hand towards her mouth and dabbled her tongue in the weeping scarlet pool, an orgasmic release rushed through her, at the same instant Claudia sighed deeply. Raising her liquid lips Gina spoke commandingly, but briefly.

“Come with me.”

Hand in hand Gina and a mesmerized Claudia walked to Joyce’s bedroom.

 

Chapter Nine: Connections.

Joyce had showered and planned to pop out for a bite to eat, but the overnight drive and stress of the past two days proved too much, she crashed on to the bed clad in her motel-room dressing gown and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Her rest was rudely interrupted by, what? Joyce glanced furtively around the dark stuffy room. The dressing table mirror glowed, it pulsed slowly in time with her heart beat. Cautiously she rose and walked to the odd mirror, no it wasn’t the mirror that glowed, it merely reflected the red light of the knife.

The light seemed life giving, sensuous and almost erotic. Joyce was gazing more deeply into the reflected blades image, as she pulled back the white bathrobe and dropped it to the floor. If the effect of the red shimmer was erotic on the blade, then on her body it was electric! Her eyes feasted on the sights; her full breasts quivered lightly shaking the stiffened twin tips, her stomach sloped to a red hued triangle of the silkiest hair through which peeped seeping luxuriant labia framing the hard clitoral tip, but her face, now that was the most exciting, she had the look of a hunter, a feral wild expression.

Shaking she dropped the finger tips of both hands to her labia, stroking in a deliberate fluid motion. The reflection clouded shimmered and was replaced by an hallucination of two women in the throws of impassioned love-making. Her autoerotic pleasure soared, the faces of the participants became clearer, it was Gina and Claudie. Even the taboo of Gina’s fate didn’t quench her desire, she felt incredible, powerful and ultimately desirable. She was a goddess to be worshiped from afar and touched with reverence. She buckled against the onset of the first climax and then pumped against her desperate fingers as she climbed again and again to orgasmic heights.

“HEY, WILL YOU KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE SOME OF US WANT TO SLEEP!”

Burst through from a neighboring room, but fell on closed un-listening ears.

Gina bucked wildly against the upturned face between her splayed thighs, her clitoris rubbing its tribade passion against the sliding muscle. Her breasts were responding to the vigorous pawing of Claudie’s exploring hands, inexperienced fingers pulled well experienced teats to new dimensions. Gina curled her body forward in a graceful motion and brought her hungry mouth in contact with Claudie’s virgin labia, her tongue ran the impressive length of the shaft before encircling the swollen tip.

Gina felt teeth against the bud of her clit, too much, too soon she thought as she climaxed.

“Still she has time to learn!” A gasping Gina thought.

New feelings and tastes flooded Claudie’s being, she had never feel so wanted, so desired, nor had she felt such desire, such need; it overflowed her capacity for expression at the point she screamed her peaking lust into Gina’s liquid folds. Gina spun her body effortlessly on the sweating body beneath her, her tongue searched for and found Claudie’s they kissed deeply. Claudie was amazed to feel her need undiminished; it was as if the myriad of orgasms had never happened.

Why hadn’t she tried female love years ago? There had been so many opportunities with Joyce, and she had thought of it – but failed to act. Instead of which she had put up with the furtive fumblings of male colleagues on the digs, none of whom had meant more than a quick shag in a shared sleeping bag. Well no more, she had found her sexual Mecca, it suddenly occurred to her why Gina was such a close instant friend of Joyce’s; but even her jealousy just pumped her desire higher, she was screwing a woman who had screwed Joyce! Just from the deep tonguing she hit another peak, before even Gina’s hand walked down her stomach to her stiffly expectant clit.

Joyce’s delirium continued, but not with the initial intensity; it was as if a dream had distilled into her very soul, a dream of power absolute power – as always power made people desirable and she became supremely desirable, confident of her sexual presence in a way previously impossible. She looked back to the mirror, her wickedness had faded a little as the expression lascivious confidence had replaced it, she looked fantastic, seduced by her own appearance she began to masturbate again.

Once more the mirror clouded the image of Gina’s hands slipping sensuously up Claudie’s body appeared, the hands centered in on Claudie’s generous shaking dark-tipped breasts. Joyce was getting close her mind screamed.

“Feed my love yes, feed and she will join us forever.”

As the couple climaxed in the New York apartment they were joined in their mutual bliss by their unseen mistress countless miles away. A telepathically linked orgy romped on into the red shimmering night.

 

Chapter 10: Where the wild wind blows.

Morning dawned in the small motel room; a morning like no other, it was the first morning of her new life. Happy and secure Joyce showered and went down for a bite of breakfast. She piled food onto her plate, all her appetites seemed to be enhanced. She sat at the small table and began to eat; suddenly an argument erupted at the table beside her. The attractive blue-eyed man shouted to his companion.

“Well if that’s the way you feel Lesley get your own way to New York.”

She replied, in a barely audible whisper.

“Keep your voice down people are looking, I just said that I’d need sometime to think about things.”

“Yup, and I just proposed – well forget it I don’t need you or your feeble excuses!”

So saying he stood and stormed out of the restaurant. Lesley called after him.

“But you haven’t paid, my purse is in the cab, Mike, MIKE!”

She ran to the door, as it opened the loud squealing of tires signaled Mike’s hurried departure. Lesley dropped her shoulders, turned and walked back to her recently vacated seat. Her head fell into her hands, Lesley wept bitterly. A waitress appeared beside the distraught girl.

“Is that right honey, you can’t pay, you’ve got $12.50 outstanding,” the uncompromising voice inquired.

“Uh, no, he just left with all my cash & cards, I’m sure he’ll be back, I hope” the girl replied brushing away the tears from her cheeks.

“Fine, in the meantime there are some plates you can start washing out back, while you wait, just in case lover boy don’t show!”

The girl stood meekly responding to the order. This was just too much! Joyce spoke up.

“Aren’t you being a bit hard on her, you must have heard what just happened?” she demanded.

“And what’s it to you stumpy, I run my business as I want!” Came the curt reply.

“I’ll pay, $12.50 wasn’t it, with my $7.50 that’s twenty bucks, and there you go! By the way I would rather be short, than be you!”\

Joyce responded her nostrils flaring with indignation. The waitress snatched the money.

“Why thank you so much, now OUT! Both of you, and don’t come back!”

Outside Lesley thanked Joyce shakily.

“Look I’ll find a way to pay you back, I just need to get to my bank and sort things, and can I have your address?”

“Look Lesley I live in New York, do you want a lift there; then you can sort things out and pay me, if really you want to?” Joyce queried kindly.

“Oh, no you’ve done enough, and I really should wait for Mike!” the girl responded.

“You really think he’s coming back, well if you’re sure…” Joyce reached into her car and pulled out one of her business cards.

“Well, could you hang on a while I really don’t want to be stuck here, and I’m not so certain about Mike any more…” Lesley’s voiced trailed off into more tears.

“I can’t wait, I really need to get back – a colleague expects to pick up something from me today” Joyce pulled the drivers door to.

“See you, good luck – I hope for both your sakes Mike comes to his senses.”

“Wait, thanks I’ll come!”

Lesley hopped around to the passenger door and slid into the vacant seat. Glancing left Joyce saw the reason for the rapid reversal, the waitress, mop in hand stood glaring from the door of the restaurant!

Two of the exhausted participants of the long distance orgy lay asleep in the female fragranced bedroom, their limbs still lovingly entwined. So deep was the slumber that even the increasingly frantic pounding on the door was insufficient to wake them, nothing it seemed could make them stir. On the doorstep the attractive redhead grew impatient, this was the last address e-mailed to Gina as a job, her car was just up the street, and she had to be here!

Finally Frankie’s fist grew weary; she turned and slumped her back against the door, in resignation. She decided on her plan of attack, she would return home, pick up some tools and come back, if there was still no reply – she’d break-in, Gina might need her! Frankie swung her practiced leg over the saddle of the Harley and disappeared in a flurry of rubber And leather up the road.

Lesley wound down the window and let the breeze from the freeway lift her black hair and blow the fringe from her forehead.

“What made you do that?” she asked Joyce.

“What?” Joyce queried.

“Step in when most people would turn away, help out someone you don’t even know.”

The girl asked, above the sound of the wind whipping past her.

“Same thing happened to me once, but his name wasn’t Mike, it was Bill, I told him I had too many work commitments – he too went ape shit!”

Joyce replied with a tinge of regret.

“Small world!” Lesley quipped.

“Smaller minds” laughed Joyce.

A few splashes of rain hit Lesley, she wound up the window, and relaxed back into the seat of the big old Ford.

Idly she toyed with her hair, wondering just what had started to turn her on. It was really inconvenient but she felt the real “hots” for her self, and the need to do something about it was growing by the mile. Ten minutes passed and they slid into a tunnel, Lesley knew this road; it wasn’t going to be completely dark in the car, but a lot less obvious, and the way she was feeling a couple of good strokes on her clit might just get\ her there. Lesley shifted her legs slightly apart and covertly slipped her left hand down her jeans, pressing hard into the damp delta of her weeping lips. It felt glorious, just little longer and she would silently explode.

“Are you OK?”

Joyce’s voice burst into her sensual world. Lesley opened her eyes to the broad daylight, her hand shot out of its velvet prison and onto her denim lap.

“Oh shit, this is so embarrassing, how long have we been out of the tunnel?” A small timid voice inquired.

“Around about five minutes” Joyce replied.

“Ah then you know what…” Lesley’s voice cracked on the edge of tears.

“I know stress affects us all differently, I get sleepy, you, it seems get horny?” Joyce smiled.

“Not usually, just here with you, OH GOD NO, I didn’t mean that I’m not gay or anything!” Lesley’s voice raised an octave.

“Its OK, I’m cool, just do what you feel, and I won’t look again!”

Joyce replied turning her eyes back to the road ahead.

“Are you sure I mean I really need to, you know…” Lesley asked in amazement.

“I meant what I said, look after your needs!”

Joyce replied without moving her line of vision. Almost immediately Lesley’s hand re-acquainted itself with the slippery bud that beat against her pants, she sighed deeply as her fingers fell into a familiar circling teasing motion. Two feet away Joyce stared out of the windscreen her face an image of wicked lasciviousness.

Frankie powered her frame over the none-to-secure gate into the rear garden of the apartment block, and scouted around for an easy access point to the property. There was no sign of an easy way in to the ground floor, the small crowbar balanced in her hand for a second before the glass mosaic on the back door window imploded into the kitchen. Carefully Frankie used the thick sleeve of her leather jacket to clean the dangerous spikes from the inside of the frame. She slid her right hand in unlocked the door and walked into the deserted kitchen. Pausing briefly she checked for a\ response to the smashing of the glass she held her breath, no nothing.

Swiftly she moved on down the hallway, there was a thick and unmistakable scent in the air. Pussies have been a grinding together here she thought, and a wry smile flicked across her lips. She slowly swung open a door, sure enough there were two exhausted dykes twisted together on the bed, again the smile, but half formed it froze; she knew that curly hair so well, she had brushed it against her slit before now. She felt the crowbar balanced in her hand once again!

 

Chapter 11: A coming to terms.

Joyce drove on with the slumbering Lesley at her side, the girl certainly had potential, judging by the number of orgasms she had given her self before collapsing into the seat. With one hand on the wheel she slipped the other past the band of her panties and into her warm wet snatch, carefully she scooped a coating of juice from her liquid core.

Moving slowly so not to drop any of her hands liberal cargo, she guided it to Lesley’s slightly parted lips, smearing it on to the soft bow. Lesley’s tongue danced around the red surfaces delicately savoring their coating, then the girl’s eyes opened and looked straight at Joyce

“I want you, I have never wanted a woman before but I want you” a low guttural voice chanted.

Joyce smiled wickedly.

“You have to earn that pleasure little one, now play alone some more and dream of the day I let you touch me!”

So saying she deposited some more of her precious cream on to Lesley’s tongue. Lesley started to play, and play as she had never played before.

Frankie raised the bar as she took a step forward, within a second the unknown girl had untangled her body from Gina’s and made up the distance between them. Slightly shorter than Frankie and nowhere near her build she didn’t look much of a threat, her decision made she swung the crowbar viciously. The blow never landed, the blonde girl dodged and swung her body to the right and back of Frankie – catching her wrist as she flew, an instant later her left arm linked through Frankie’s left elbow and pinned the pressure on Frankie’s wrist built up, her right hand first went white, and then rapidly numb; the crowbar fell to the floor. Gina jumped from the bed her curly hair plastered to her face by love-sweat.

“Frankie, what are you doing here,” she gasped.

“Nothing much, but I know what you’ve been doing, BITCH,” screamed her exasperated ginger lover “and to think I came here to save you!”

“Look Franks, its not what you think, for once listen to me, get out of here, save yourself forget me!” Gina advised.

“No problem, I’ll forget you both, once I’m even,” spat Frankie.

The arms pinning the redhead moved at blinding speed, the hands reached forwards and ripped the fabric of her tee-shirt apart, full bodied globes mottled with freckles fell from the split cotton.

“Do her now!” Claudie shouted.

She pushed the girl forward so her cherry hued nipples bobbed in front of Gina.

“No, never I love her!” Gina cried.

“Maybe this will help,” taunted Claudie as she raked her nails across Frankie’s hanging boobs.

Fine lines of blood rushed on to the freckled slopes, Frankie struggled, but it was useless the hands had locked her arms once more. Frankie shot a question at Gina.

“So you want it rough now, I thought S&M wasn’t your scene – LOVER!”

Gina dodged the head-but with ease; her eyes glowing with a strange inner light her hands reached forwards and gripped Frankie’s breasts. Frankie felt her nipples jump at the touch, and then she felt – shit!

Frankie swung her full body weight around tearing her tits from Gina’s grip and dashing Claudia violently into the doorpost. The restraining hands momentarily relaxed and Frankie shot from the bedroom. She crashed into the hall table before flying out off the front door. Out in the bright street she ran for her bike.

“Hey lady, nice boobs” called a teenaged lad.

Instinctively she zipped her jacket up before screaming into the distance on the accelerating Harley. The teenage boy turned from one unexpected spectacle to see two women naked as the day they were born peering out from a darkened house into the street, before vanishing and slamming the door shut. The boy glanced around, and then walked on whistling.

“I think I’ll make this my regular route back from the pool hall.”

Inside the apartment the girls recoiled from the hall and the sunlight, Claudie asked.

“Did you finish?”

“No, I had only just bitten!” came the muted response; Gina turned and threw up onto the hall carpet. Claudie rushed to her aid.

“But she knows, she is a danger!”

“And whose fault is that Claudie!

“We could have just taken the beating and let her leave, but now she knows!” Gina coughed.

“I’m sorry I panicked, did you really love her?” Asked Claudie.

“Once, but now its too late for that, like you I only really love Joyce – and what she gives us.”

Claudie silently followed Gina into the bedroom, despite everything that had just occurred it only took minutes for the sound of skin sliding against skin to resume, as ritual leg clinching took the place of reasoned argument.

Joyce parked the car in her usual slot and arm-in-arm with Lesley walked up the steps to her apartment. Opening the door Joyce stumbled on the upended table, before re-positioning it.

“Sorry about the mess I have some sloppy house guests at the moment – you pop through into the lounge take a seat, I’ll introduce my friends in a minute” Joyce smiled persuasively.

Lesley winked and walked into the lounge swinging her damp denim ass suggestively a she skirted the pool of vomit.

Joyce decamped to the bedroom, where once she managed to un-glue the humping pussies – she was told the whole sorry story.

“I have a solution to that problem in the other room, but if this is going to work you two need to control your lust. Lesley is strictly off limits, as my slave she is not Nosferatu; that means unlike you she can stand the light of day and track down Frankie. Do you have a picture of her Gina, and which clubs does she use?” Asked Joyce.

“No picture on me but there’s one on our website, and we normally hang out at Meow Mix,” Gina replied.

“Great we’ll get her back real soon don’t worry, Lesley and I will make sure of it!” Now come meet our latest addition to our nest of roost mates.

 

Chapter 12: Home run.

Lesley hung around outside the club on Houston Street, waiting for the allotted ten minutes to pass. Joyce had already entered and the delay was her tactic. The club was starting to get busy, as it was just after five and 2-4-1 happy hour had just begun. Lesley felt more than a little odd, what a day this had been she still didn’t really understand how any of this had started, but she was on a roller coaster; she just couldn’t stop. She found the admiring glances she was getting from the entering patrons a definite turn-on, smiling she shifted slightly in her sticky pants, only two more minutes and she’d be inside her first lesbian club!

Joyce scanned the slowly filling ground floor room, no sign of her yet; a minute later she had confirmed the same was true in the upper bar. She returned downstairs, in a second Lesley would arrive and the search would begin in earnest. A tall blonde approached Joyce.

“Are you looking for some one in particular?” The quiet voice whispered in her ear as the girl bent close.

Joyce turned her lips replacing her ear, and then a seductive touch of lip-gloss.

“I think I may have found them,” she replied breathlessly.

“Lets chill in one of the stalls upstairs, I’m Sherry and you are?” The curious blonde asked.

“Unstoppable!” Laughed Joyce, together they walked upstairs.

Lesley walked into the club, and looked around for either Joyce or the target Frankie, no sign of either. Sighing she decided to get a drink to relax, and then to mingle! What a nice word she thought, “mingle with the minges, or even mingling minges” a sliver of lust ran up and down her spine. She walked through the assortment of femmes in front of her one, a pretty black girl in a tight floral dress turned to speak.

“Hi, your new here aren’t you, I can tell by the look – first time?” She queried.

“Yup, I’m looking for a friend of a friend, Um Frankie?” Replied Lesley.

“Not in yet, look don’t go looking for her, she’s a bit, off the wall, you know S&M scene,”

The girl continued in a deeply suggestive voice.

“Whereas me I’m easy goin’ if you know what I mean”

“I’m not sure I do, but I’d like to find out – later finding Frankie’s important to my friend, you are?”

Lesley replied losing her self in the dark brown eyes.

“Patricia, lovers call me, “Trish”, will you be one?” Fell out of the thick sensual lips.

“We’ll find out later Patricia, could you keep an eye out for Frankie?” Lesley sighed.

“Sure thing, where will I find you?” Trish asked.

“Oh, around, you know!” Lesley replied.

“I know,” Trish replied her hand clinging slightly to Lesley’s as she walked away.

Lesley continued her journey around the lower floor, meeting some eyes with interest, but watched by more. Eventually she completed her search and wandered upstairs; her bobbing ass swung as her gusset rode up to cling to the damp folds, she was enjoying this! A perusal of the top bar yielded the same result, she was just about to check out the can to see if Joyce was in there when something caught her attention. A tall blonde sat behind on of the tables in the second stall, her cropped hair was pushed back hard against the seat back, and her own back arched like a bow.

She must be wanking, here in full view; surprised she gawped at the slightly bucking girl. It was then she saw the pump poking out of the far side of the table, the sole pointing towards the ceiling, how the hell was she doing that; a contortionist? Silently Lesley crouched and peeked under the table, she had found Joyce, and her small body was curled under the table as her lips and tongue did their productive work inside the pulled back flies of the blonde’s jeans.

“Oh you’re a watcher, that’s cool, you can watch me if you want.”

The familiar voice in her ear caused her to jump in shock. Trish crouched besides her grinning broadly.

“Frankie’s here, if you can tear yourself away come down an’ I’ll introduce you.”

Lesley now irradiating a new blushed pink color followed the wide assed girl down the stairs; her eyes were fascinated by the undulations performed by the pretty flowers. Lesley walked towards the leather-clad figure of Frankie, her lank red hair hung from her in an unfashionable mullet; she didn’t look too attractive a proposition!

“Frankie this is my new grrl Lesley” Trish lied deliberately.

“Hi, Lesley, pleased to meet you” Frankie said her dull eyes sparkled a little.

“Hello to you Frankie we have a mutual friend, Gina” Lesley said in her lowest voice.

Frankie’s face darkened.

“Oh, she’s been mutual with you too, why doesn’t that surprise me any more.”

“I’m not interested in Gina any more not since she told me about your preferences, you see I’m strictly Femdom,” lied Lesley.

“Are you now, lets discuss this somewhere a little quieter, should we.”

Frankie raised her left eyebrow and both corners of her mouth; it was amazing how much a smile improved her!

“Sure, I just need to pee first, I’m fit to burst,” squirmed Lesley.

“No problem, I’ll just follow you to the can,” Frankie grinned.

The two women walked to the back of the club together.

“Your new grrl, yeah, sure Trish” Trish swung imperiously around.

“Shut up Andy.”

Lesley felt distinctly uncomfortable perched on the rim of the toilet bowl; it wasn’t so much the cold porcelain that worried her. It was more the thought, she had never thought she would piss into some one else’s mouth. Frankie crouched expectantly between her spread knees, she had to do something, but nothing would come! An idea occurred,

“Slave I need servicing first she pointed to her dark hued shaven vulva.”

Frankie grinned.

“Yes mistress, at once.”

Good to her word an expert tongue descended into Lesley’s virgin folds skimmed lightly along the puffed lips and fell into the honey between them. As the tongue traveled luxuriously it found the hard nub it sought, lips closed, and a glorious suction began.

If this didn’t stop she was going to – it was no good she could hold back no longer. As the orgasm hit Lesley urine spurted liberally from her pussy and ran down Frankie’s chin, quickly Frankie re-positioned her mouth so not to waste an of the amber fluid. Frankie was in heaven, this was always off limits with Gina, and she being the faithful kind had missed the dusky flavor. Lesley rode up against the bowl as her second Sapphic climax hit her. Minutes of pure ecstasy passed, and finally they emerged triumphant from the crowded stall.

A small dark girl washed her hands in one of the gleaming sinks.

“Had fun, I heard your call Lesley, even where I was!”

“What the fuck…” Started Frankie.

Her voice was cut off by a sudden impact on the rear of her neck. Reeling she staggered forward, the petite woman thrust her hands roughly up her damp tee-shirt and onto her large breast, excited as she was the nipples were easy to locate. As the pain stung Frankie back to awareness the first red-hot orgasm hit her between the legs. Lesley relaxed her grip on the writhing girl; she would be even easier to control from now on in.

 

Chapter 13: A prison without bars.

Frankie had been welcomed into the fold with enthusiasm; initially Gina had just been relieved to have the situation back under control, and to be back in Joyce’s good books. Then her love fought through the mists of dark control and re-surfaced, the lovemaking with Frankie was relaxed and normal. It wasn’t the unnatural passion-fueled spree she had experienced with Claudie, which had promised everything – except contentment. As the lovers lay comfortably in each other’s arms they listened; their heightened hearing picked up the urgent escalating sighs from the study. Frankie moved languidly and stretching against her contentment, and she spoke in a soft whisper.

“Are you yourself now?”

“More than I can remember recently” Gina replied, wondering at the words she spoke.

“Good, so how do we get out of this serious shit Gina?” A steady voice inquired.

“We can’t, we are bound to Joyce, and bound to the night – this is our future – our home now,” Gina’s eyes brimmed with certainty.

Frankie said nothing, but her mind was racing; She could feel Joyce’s influence inside her, cornering her will and pushing relentlessly to a remote place. At the same time the uninvited guest was pulling up the obscene desire, the need, and the all-consuming darkness… “Shit, I’m getting us out of here some way, a sub by nature I may be, but you still need permission to be my mistress” The bitter thought almost fell through her lips, but her mind grabbed it, and held onto it. As much as it pained her, she could not trust Gina; she was just too far under the vampyres influence. Gina stirred and noticed the tears of frustration running down Frankie’s cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” She asked tenderly.

“Ain’t nothing, I’m just glad to have found you again.”

At least thought Frankie, as she kissed Gina, that’s mostly the truth!

Lesley drifted down from the high that Claudie had just given her, it was good but not spectacular; something was missing. She thought about the climatic shortcomings as she lay there panting. In the midst of the threesome she still felt alone. Her left hand unthinkingly drew circles in the moisture of Joyce’s sex. She had come well but something was, well – unsatisfactory? What was missing? The experience in the rest room at the club was more intense; the sex was perverted, even worse (better) on the very edge of danger. She missed that edge, the adrenaline rush, and the fear! That was what she needed; if Lesley wasn’t to be one of the roost mates one of the Wampyr she need the high from elsewhere. The answer was at once obvious, one name, one need one desire – Frankie. If Joyce wouldn’t let her into the pack (for whatever unknown reason) she would find her highs in dominating the delicious redhead. Then she wouldn’t be alone, it wouldn’t matter that she was ostracized from the roost. But this could be dangerous, how would Gina and the leader react?

“Joyce I want to join you and the others!”

Lesley suggested quietly her fingers pausing their slippery circuit of the open slit.

“You shall, when I decree it, now carry on with the finger massage, my hunger rises again,” Joyce commanded.

Lesley chose to ignore the command and instead stood.

“I’m going to talk with Frankie, I’ll be back soon,” she said with an absent air.

“I’ll do it for you then.”

There was a sudden intake of breath from a startled Claudie, who even though only half awake could sense that the upstart’s challenge was unwise.

A tiny Joyce rose to fill the space of the study. “YOU WILL SERVE ME NOW! How dare you tell me what is convenient. SERVE ME GIRL!”

Joyce’s voice was filled with the threat of thunder; her eyes glowed with a dull red passion. Lesley obeyed instantly, and she fell to her knees, as her hands were directed to explore the wet cavern of Joyce’s liquid sex.

“Now lay back girl, keep your calves on the floor and bend over backwards,” Joyce said more calmly.

Once again the dominated girl complied, and crisply arched her back; her head and shoulders brushed the floor. Tenderly at first, and then with mounting thirst Joyce drank of Lesley’s wetness, her tongue explored every detail of the vulva before it, and widened every orifice it found. Lesley quivered like a string on a drawn bow. Seeing her passion Claudie moved in to twang the stiffly erect nipples – it was too much; Lesley peaked, again and again, and every climax brought the image caught in her minds eye into a sharper focus. The image was desire, it was complete lust, it was danger, and it was Frankie! Sitting between her legs in place of Joyce, her lips waiting eagerly for Lesley’s amber ambrosia to flow.

Frankie moved from the warmth of the bed to the chill kitchen, to put a brew on for the both of them. Concentrating on the unfamiliar espresso machine, she failed to hear a new occupant sidle towards her. The slight tap on her bare shoulder sent her skywards with surprise, she span to find a grinning Lesley standing behind her.

“Can you make me one?” she asked innocently.

“I’ll think about it, if you promise not to creep around like that!” Frankie stuttered.

“For you I would promise anything.”

Lesley smiled her reply, and uninvited ran her forefinger across the rounded slope of Frankie exposed right breast. She thought she could actually feel the freckles, how could that be possible? How could they raise to caress her fingertips so seductively? Feeling more adventurous the finger assaulted the crenulations below the heavy red teat.

“Can you stop that, you don’t own me!” Frankie exploded, turning back to the job at hand “and make your own fucking drink.”

Deliberately Frankie looked anywhere but at the surprised youngster. Lesley recovered her composure and tried to mimic Joyce.

“You will let me touch you I DEMAND it!” Frankie grinned, and through the spread lips muttered with menace.

“Demand what you want girly, but the next time you touch me without asking I’ll break you arm!”

The set of green eyes were unblinking below the russet hair, and glinted in defiance. Lesley backed away a little, her features a mask of confusion. The mask slipped and changed to astonished recognition.

“Your not one of us, something’s wrong.”

She turned urgently to leave the confines of the kitchen, and inform Joyce of Frankie’s condition.

“Stop right there – I have a proposition for you,” Frankie’s firm voice echoed.

Lesley stopped and turned to listen. She chose to turn away from the teasing inner voice of Joyce, and towards the more certain rewards; the rewards that only Frankie could offer.

 

Chapter 14: A peek through the bars.

Claudia relaxed, she felt calm, calm and supremely confident. There was no readily identifiable reason for this, but it felt so good. She rose and slipped on her clothes, it must be night she mused the air felt so vibrant. There was the distinct scent of sex in the air, but then again when wasn’t there recently? She heard Joyce’s voice and turned to the sound about to speak to her, but Joyce was nowhere to be seen! That was a little unsettling, but the sound soon faded, my there were strange acoustics in this old house. Then she heard it again, it was ethereal but irresistible, and the sound drew her – she left the study and padded to the lounge. Joyce sat dwarfed in one of the comfortable armchairs.

“So you heard me, eventually,” Joyce’s voice now filled her head.

The small form said nothing but the monologue boomed on.

“You have some power, now is the time to use it. Claudie I need your assistance in uncovering the greatest find of our careers. A whole other civilization unknown to scholars, I am path finding a new history. Will you join my quest?”

Claudia hesitated, normally she followed the senior archaeologist without question, but not this time; something dark beckoned her very soul.

Joyce did a seemingly unremarkable thing; she just shifted slightly and bared the tips of her small breasts. An invisible electrifying pulse leapt from the hard buds to the palms of Claudie’s hands. She felt an intense need to feed, dumbly she gazed as the lifelines on her palms first smiled, and then opened to reveal the deeply serrated edges. The ecstasy of hunger was upon her, and her vision dimmed to a red smeared blur. She watched in fascination as someone (was it her?) moved her hands to the offered teats, the serrations caught against crenulated skin, tasted and then bit! Claudie experienced a mind fuck; her brain climaxed in swirls of kaleidoscopic intensity, and reality ran screaming from the room.

Claudie soared through clouds of red mist, a mist that reeked of cordite. Below her the fog cleared, and men lay dying on thousands of twentieth century battlefields – while dark beings scurried to and fro. No matter how hard she looked at them she could never quite make out the detail of the shadowy forms. Then away at breakneck speed, now swooping over virgin forest and up, up into the higher lands. She circled an unknown castle, and heard unfamiliar coarse tongues. On down to a pitiful peasant village, in the muddy street a woman knelt, crying in desolation.

“Sonja… Csejthe… Sonja!”

Once again all was swept away, and replaced by something frighteningly unmistakeable – Golgotha! The crucifixion, it was the final act of cruelty by man to god. This too in its turn faded, to be replaced by dancing throngs of gyrating fools prancing around a golden calf.

Finally a place of refuge appeared and Giza’s dry, golden sands surrounded it. Claudie’s tormented soul rushed through the hot winds towards the sanctuary of the giant geometric shape. She entered and scoured the ancient passages searching, always searching. When she found it – the beauty was breathtaking, she gulped in the sumptuous surroundings and marveled at contents of the tomb. All to soon the sarcophagus summoned her, and Claudie’s spirit rested safe, inside the warm red glow at the center of the Khufu pyramid. Then she understood the Wampyr had always stood beside man, urging on the baseness of his nature, feeding from the pitiful weakness of his desires. She understood her fear of the darkness, the coldness that Joyce had forced upon her and screamed in fury at her eternal damnation. The archaeologist finally understood history in all its bleakness and futility. Thankfully her senses collapsed under the impact of total desolation, and coma claimed her.

Something moved at her feet, it was indistinct; she screwed up her eyes and desperately focused on the shadows gathered before her. They became clearer; one figure knelt, while the other, legs akimbo crouched over its accepting mouth. A smell filled the air; it was familiar, acidic and spicy in its perfume. Gina was instantly snapped from drowsiness, unwillingly she was to witness the act that, although often asked to perform she had never enacted. With mounting repulsion she watched as Lesley emptied her bladder into Frankie’s waiting mouth. How could she? After their recent passion how could she prostitute her desire in front of her like this?

Lesley saw Gina’s movement from the corner of her eye and stopped mid flow to turn to the dumbfounded observer.

“Do you want some too? I have plenty to share,” the girl asked with mock coyness.

Gina shook her head violently, but at that same instant the cool eyes locked on hers, her mouth worked over time to form the negative response her mind screamed. The words tumbled out.

“Please mistress, let me taste you.” As Lesley moved towards the bed, Frankie’s restraining hand found the girls bare shoulder.

“Surely, a deal is a deal Frankie?” She whispered lowly, “you know the risk I am taking!”

Frankie understood and she would have stopped Lesley in her tracks. If only her personal fantasy was not on offer so intense she could touch it, so real she could already taste it. The unnatural desire fought within her and with Joyce’s traitorous help won.

The hand fell and Lesley slid to position, her slit above Gina’s compliant mouth. A lusty stream gushed forth, spilling from the corners of the reclining girls mouth, and forming warm rivulets down her elegant neck. Frankie stooped and placed her mouth over Gina’s sex, sucking it deeply into her mouth. Almost instantly the familiar flavor of Gina’s juices was joined by the heady tang of her urine. Frankie pushed her urgent fingers to the pulsing bud of her own clitoris, and bubbled her orgasm from delirious lips. Plans were gone; escape was unimportant as sex once again ruled triumphant in the dampening bedroom.

 

Chapter 15: The pursuit of understanding.

As dawn broke the Pickup thundered through the tolls of the George Washington Bridge. Mike blinked the sleep from his eyes, he had to find her, I mean how crass could he be? He had finally realized that Lesley meant more to him than his own stupid pride. It had taken some time, but the numbness of her absence was unbearable. First he’d tried contacting her at home, then her friends and finally at work. But since the argument, no one had seen her. It was as if she had vaporized from the diner, in desperation he had returned to the scene of their public falling out. Firstly the manageress gave him a piece of her mind about him scooting without paying, and then more usefully she gave him the number of the beat up Ford Lesley had left in.

“When I bar people they stay barred,” The resolute woman announced, “and I’ve got your number to, so make this your last visit!”

After calling in a few favors at the local station he had an address, well at least a location; the car had been sold from a Garage in Manhattan, the driver had yet to log their address. All he could do was cruise the area keeping an eye out for the plate. He would find her, and tell her of his love. He would even admit his stupidity, if she needed time to think, she had it. The truck shot over the raised ramps on the roadway as the skyscrapers drew ever closer. Mike was a man on a mission.

Claudia gasped as the life flew back into her body, Joyce filled her field of view, and she could see but not move. She marveled at the sight of liquid blood running back up the compact overhangs of breast tissue and returning to Joyce’s body through savagely erect nipples. A comforting voice soothed her fears.

“The paralysis is temporary, but the knowledge is not, you are part of Wampyr for eternity. An eternity of lust and supreme power, are you prepared for this?”

Not a word passed Claudie’s lips, but a broad grin cracked Joyce’s face. Unknown languages filled Claudie’s mind, slowly she grinned as the message became clear, both clear and deadly. Life returned to Claudie’s limbs and she went to gather the others. Before they could rest there was much to discuss.

Lesley walked through the sun-dappled streets of the East Village back towards the club, as she moved the bag swung freely at her side the weight of the fragments acting as a pendulum. It was odd, although she hardly ever slept she never felt tired, or hungry it was as if something unseen sustained her. In fact she felt great, and if she got this right surely Joyce would see her worth and let her in to the roost. Then she would have it all, Frankie, that hanger-on Gina and the power.

She would finally have influence with the leader; get her to accept her as an equal. As she swept along the sidewalk she was deep in thought and blissfully unaware of the power she already wielded. Every head turned for a second look, irrespective of gender they all felt the burst of desire.

Men walked on with the telltale limp of the semi-hard-on, mothers desperately ignored the dampness accosting their gussets and wondered at their reaction, and single girls opened their minds to new possibilities.

Finally she arrived at the club; the Meow Mix stood lifeless, crates of empties clustered around the entrance. A push of the door met with stiff resistance, it was firmly locked. Lesley cursed and turned to walk away she would have to return later, maybe even have to wait until the club fully opened. Damn, this was going to make it more difficult to secrete things! From nowhere a slim Hispanic girl in her early teens appeared and hurriedly brushed past her. The girl glanced back at her, an expression of puzzlement and surprise on her face. The girl blushed deeply, unlocked the club door and slipped into the dark interior in a confused rush of hormones.

Lesley turned and pounded on the door.

“Hi, can you let me in, I left my purse with all my credit cards in here last night.” She lied astutely.

“I just clean, I can’t let anyone in, go away!” A nervous voice quavered.

“OK, just let me leave you my business card, then at least you can call me if you find my purse” The door opened a few inches and a slender hand reached out for the offered card. Lesley gripped the left hand with her right and gently ran her fingertips across the palm.

“Are you sure I can’t come in for a quick peek?” She asked sweetly.

As the door swung fully open Lesley stepped from the warmth of the street into the cool doorway.

The house was quiet; Gina and Frankie lay coiled together in post coital repose, their arms wrapped in each other warmth. Joyce and Claudie lay side-by-side sighing and squirming as one, as they dreamt their joint dream.

Standing together the sumptuously dressed women cast their appreciative eyes along the rows of peasant girls shivering in the cold castle hallway. Erzebet clapped her hands and pointed to the studded wooden door, Darvulia opened it and ushered the girls into a well-appointed Anteroom, resplendent with a roaring log fire. The girls were assembled into a row, with their rumps warming in front of the generous fire. They were a fine collection this time; Darvulia had excelled her self in the village. Handmaidens appeared carrying fine gossamer gowns and silver platters filled with deep red wine in crystal glasses. Full jugs of wine were sloshed down onto low wooden tables.

Darvulia handed a glass of the fine wine to each of the nervous girls, and timidly they sipped it, appreciating its smokey flavor. Darvulia reproached them, and picking up a full glass quaffing it down in a single fluid motion. She reached for the jug and refilled the glass, repeating the process. The message was universal and accepted; the gaggle of girls thirstily gulped down the rich brew, and not wanting to offend their influential hosts recharged their empty glasses. As the wine flowed the girls relaxed, laughing and chatting to each other of their fortune in being invited to the fabled Castle Csejthe. Darvulia and Erzebet stripped off their formal dresses and slipped into two of the sheer gossamer gowns.

Darvulia’s impatient arm motion indicated to the girls to do the same. The wine had done its work well, and all reluctance had disappeared; soon a dozen naked girls quickly compared their bodies before donning the gowns.

Erzebet and Darvulia moved to recline on a low bed and hugged each other before starting a more intimate embrace. The girls glanced at the couple, and then at each other unsure of what to do. Darvulia broke her lips from the hardened tip of one rearing nipple long enough to indicate that they were expected to copy. Stripped of their peasant clothing and strict morals the girls complied, and throughout the room couples paired off into impassioned embraces. Soon the boldest of the girls had sought out the wet recesses of their friend’s bodies. Erzebet watched their fumbled lovemaking intently, and then indicated to Darvulia with an outstretched palm, which was to be the first.

As usual her choice was impeccable; a well-rounded girl of seventeen summers, with wide sensuous hips, a narrow waist and a pert bosom delicately tipped with puffy pink nipples. Her flaxen hair fell beyond her shoulders to the upper slopes of her virgin breasts. The sculptured face’s complexion was clear and honeyed, with dark eyes smouldering above a fine aquiline nose. The full lips of her wide mouth curled upward full of lascivious enjoyment. Darvulia freed the girl from the clutches of her devoted friend. The succulent plop of full-lipped vulva leaving a surprised mouth sounded, soon to be replaced by the excited squeal of the new recipient of the hungry mouth as the detached youth turned her lust elsewhere.

Darvulia guided the giggling girl to the side bedroom; it was sparsely furnished with a framed bed and deep sunken tub.

“Play time,”

Darvulia whispered suggestively into the girl’s ear as she tied her hands behind her back to one of the posts of the frame bed. Then a in an instant a blindfold was skillfully applied, covering her dark orbs.

“What is your given name?” Erzebet quietly inquired of the drunken girl.

“Sonja,” came the disoriented reply.

As Sonja went to close her mouth something firm filled it. The ball gag was firmly tied, trapping her tongue just before the ligature drew tight around her neck. Soundlessly the girl struggled as a knife drew a weeping curved red line, first under one plump nipple, and then under the other.

Following these wine dulled incisions Sonja felt the lightest of suckling lips descend on the wounds, gently slaking a deep thirst. Sonja bucked as she felt the cord around her neck tighten cruelly, and slowly the final darkness descended.

Darvulia delicately wiped the blood from the blade before returning it to it’s hiding place under the lace pillow. Secretly she ran her fingers over the raised family crest, savoring its power. She turned to look unsympathetically at the slumped girl; her lifeblood flowed from a wide gash across her neck into the sunken bath. She would be drained in another five minutes, and disposed of. Erzebet was already selecting her successor from the debauched orgy in the adjacent room. Darvulia smiled; soon they would all serve her mistress, but none as loyally as her. The darkening castle welcomed nightfall.

Joyce and Claudia lay side-by-side fast asleep, Joyce’s left hand moved deeply between Claudia’s legs in a steady rhythm. Claudie’s right hand twitched in magical synchronicity between Joyce’s thighs. With increasing power and frequency their mutual somnambulistic orgasms carried them to a deeper understanding of their joint inheritance.

 

Chapter Sixteen: Meeting is such sweet sorrow.

A soft plop sounded as the fragment slid from Lesley hand into the cold water of the low level cistern. Three pieces successfully hidden, two still to find locations for. She had been instructed by Joyce to spread them around to ensure a casual observer could never find more than one piece. It didn’t make a lot of sense to Lesley and as was more than typical she had not been let in on the secret. Lesley poked her head outside of the restroom and listened intently before moving on, judging by the quietness of the club the cleaner was still busy downstairs. In minutes the final fragments were shadowed away and Lesley strode confidently down the stairs. All was quiet as she dropped from the last step, and Lesley shouted cheerily.

“Thanks I found my purse,” into the unlit cavernous interior.

“I’m off now!”

There was a brief muffled reply; there was something about the retorts timbre that enchanted Lesley. She decided to seek out the speaker, her legs seemed to know which way to go; after a few steps her other senses caught up, the sweetest of smells – so rich she could taste it on her tongue, the most velvet of lips brushing softly against hers. Blindly she felt her being drawn towards something pure, virginally innocent. Her sole intent was corruption of such innocence it was too tempting, too easy.

Joyce stirred in her day-time slumber, her dreams pulled apart from her sisters; Claudia alone saw the dispatching of the remaining peasant girls. For seconds that stretched into years Joyce’s mind was blank, until the call came. The call whipped through her rest and transported her soul to a very different bedchamber. At it’s center a dark haired woman reclined, Joyce’s mind cowered as the unspoken words rang in her mind.

“Welcome novice into the presence of Erzsébet Bathory, council member of the Wampyr high command. Fear for your immortality, my will rules supreme.”

Joyce felt her body pushed down into a supplicants pose.

“What do you want with me?” Joyce’s words froze in the chill air.

“Want with you,” Erzsébet cruelly laughed “nothing, from you, everything.

You are the most useful of our new recruits, and you are truly privileged. Most vampyres never met one of the true Wampyr, let alone consort with one. However needs drive us, man is close to defeating us, not by power or wisdom but by his fascination with science”

“Defeat us, man is too weak willed, surely?” Joyce asked in astonishment.

“True, but he would not even know of his victory, or need to fight the battle. As always he would stumble forth in stupidity, but he would still win!”

“How, when all we need to do is take of his blood to enslave him?” Joyce questioned the mistress.

“His blood, yes it is both our strength and our weakness. Humans produce intoxicants in their blood when they have pleasure; it is these we feed on not the blood itself. True Wampyr cannot produce the intoxicants themselves and without our regular supply we fade, we can pass on our nature to humans through the bite, or more rarely we can find orphans”

“Orphans?” Joyce furrowed her brow.

“Yes, like you, somewhere in your ancestry a vampyre bit, but did not complete the bite. One of your forebears was strong or wily enough to escape. The bite was carried through your bloodline to you, an orphan; you do not need the bite. Any contact with a vampyre or its property will turn you”

“So how will man defeat us, there must be many orphans?” Joyce quizzed further.

“Many thousands, but soon with his science man will find them, cure them and in the process destroy us. Our touch damages man; if the orphan has no contact with a vampyre by middle age it will perish young. Man will soon have the power to detect this and cure it. If that cure was given to all – Wampyr could not infect humans.”

“We would die out!” Joyce interjected her eyes widening.

“Yes, and you are tasked to find and seduce one who can prevent that happening, we need to fight fire with fire, find me an accursed scientist! Do not fail me Wampyr hate is not to be endured.”

Abruptly the dream ended, back to welcoming blankness Joyce’s soul fled carrying Erzsébet’s task wedded to its core. In her sleep Joyce turned her black hair swept across her features, black except for one streak of the purest virginal white.

Maldea wondered at the new feelings her young body produced, oh she had touched herself before, but never with such urgent purpose. Her dark toned hands dipped under her panty band and spread the collecting dew towards the sparse hairs of her smooth mound. Her breath whistled between semi-open lips as her panting deepened. Maldea’s mind used her mothers voice to scream at her, to stop the thoughts and the plundering digits, before they sullied her. Desire was stronger than the upbringing, and the body responded faster than the guilt could cope with. Images of soft female flesh hung before her, succulent peach skinned breasts, deep liquid valleys, her wetness played against her fingers as the pleasure surged, Maldea spiraled  into her first orgasm of womanhood.

Lesley pursed her lips, and then licked them slowly in appreciation of the impromptu floor show she had just witnessed. Her boot tip reached out to nudge the girls left foot. She jumped, startled and staring.

“Its alright, that was lovely – would you like to learn more?” Lesley asked in smooth languid voice.

“No, leave me it’s wrong, I’m bad – I need confession, I’m…” The girl cried in terror.

“What you need the church can’t supply, but I can,” Lesley grinned stepping out of her discarded pants.

“Stay away from me I’ll scream,” threatened the seated girl.

“You will, but you’ll have to make me scream first,” Lesley laughed throwing her skirt over the girls upturned tear streaked face.

Maldea struggled against the flesh being pressed into her face, trying desperately to avoid contact with the slippery slit. It was hopeless the lips found hers and pressed savagely down smearing juices in their wake.

Another outrage, nimble fingers sought the tender nipples on the under-developed chest. Once more her body started the sweet betrayal, her lips opened a fraction and met slick pungent skin, the taste was pure temptation. An inexperienced tongue explored the flavor further and all was lost, and found in an instant. The girl worshiped between Lesley’s stretched legs feeding her newfound desire. Olive skinned hands plundered the small wet vulva for the second time as Maldea discovered the bud of her polished clitoris.

Mike swung the pickup into East Houston, It was getting late, and he would need to find somewhere to hole up for the night soon. His eyes flicked alone the sidewalk looking for accommodation, 237, nope 251, nope, 269… Lesley! She just appeared before him sauntering away from the street corner doorway. Mike slammed on the brakes and rammed the right tires unceremoniously up the kerb stone. He searched in desperation for her, and flew from the seat to head up Avenue B in desperate pursuit.

“Hey buddy, you can’t leave it there I’ve got a delivery due” An unseen voice challenged.

“Buddy.”

“BUDDY,”

“YOU ASSHOLE!”

 

Chapter Seventeen: Best left alone.

Frankie still fought against the lure of the vampyre life, but her resistance was waning. She still berated her lack of willpower when Lesley had initiated the threesome, not that Gina had complained. It was just that the real Gina would have complained, just as the real Frankie would have stopped the errant Lesley. Tears pooled in Frankie’s eyes, they were quickly swept away, as must be any other telltale signs of free will. Frankie pulled her emotions in line as the others filed into the lounge. Joyce radiated confidence as she spoke to the group.

“Lesley will soon return from the Meow mix; where she has been laying the bait. Soon our victims will come to us, making our presence harder to detect. It also avoids the risk of us being unable to return here before the dawn launches an obscene sun into the sky. Your task is to entertain our guests, entertain and extract vital information. We are searching for a scientist, or even better a molecular biologist to convert to the cause.

Why this is needed you do not need to know, simply contact me, my or sister Claudie with any information. Anyone converting such a contact for personal pleasure will be outcast!”

“What do you mean outcast?” asked an inquisitive Frankie.

“Just that you will be excluded from the house and the roost” Joyce stated.

“But, we’d die!” Gina gasped open mouthed.

“Just so and quite horribly, so no mistakes” Smiled Joyce.

“Frankie could I have a word?” Joyce added “Alone.”

Claudie led Gina out of the lounge, her arm slung loosely around the girl’s waist. Frankie watched them depart; it still hurt to see Gina with someone else. As the linked figures disappeared Joyce spoke in a hushed but threatening voice.

“Always the one to question, never quite able to hide your impertinence are you Frankie.”

“No offense Joyce, I’m just the nosy kind, you know?” Frankie gulped, even towering over Joyce’s slight form she still felt small.

“I know, Frankie, I know you had time to build up resistance before you bite was completed. I know you are a rebel, but I will crush you if you oppose my will” Joyce’s voice grated with hard-edged hate.

“Oppose you why would…” Frankie’s sentence was cut short by a thrusting hand grabbing her throat. As if weightless she was lifted a full six inches from the ground.

“Oppose me and watch Gina die, oppose me and I will make her the outcast. I will force you to watch her flesh stripped by the noon sun, you will see her change right before you into something you can’t bear to look at, let alone touch! Do we understand each other?” Joyce looked deeply into the shocked eyes.

“Yes, you’re killing me, please,” Frankie croaked.

Joyce lessened her grip and returned a shaken Frankie to solid ground.

“Good, it’s best to be clear, it saves a lot of bad feeling in the long run,” Joyce smiled. “Now show me there is no bad feeling Frankie” Frankie stooped and kissed Joyce, lightly at first, but then with increasing passion. Frankie’s hands slid easily down Joyce’s back and pulled the twin globes of her ass-cheeks apart. An insistent finger probed against a resistant sphincter, then popped into the pliant depths. Joyce sighed heavily and relaxed back onto the sofa, she looked up into Frankie’s adoring eyes and grinned. As the lapping began to spread wetness up her slit Joyce closed her eyes in pleasure.

Frankie’s loving pupils watched Joyce carefully through the fuzz of pubic hair, they kept all their warmth until it was safe, safe to let the hatred shine in their depths.

Maldea hurried through the cleaning, for the first time ever she was running late, damn that woman! She was going to be in trouble here and at home if she wasn’t careful. Just the stalls to finish and she was done, a quick disinfect would have to do today. The final bowl gleamed, one quick flush and it would be done, and clunk! The handle moved but struck something, Maldea shoved her gloved hand in and pulled out the obstacle. The door downstairs opened, hurriedly she flushed the toilet again success! She slid the obstacle into the pocket of her apron and raced downstairs.

“Hi, Maldea I thought you be gone, won’t Mamma be worried?” Asked Petra the barmaid.

“All finished, just a bit slow today, bye!”

As Petra watched the teenaged butt disappear from the club door, she laughed silently; Mamma really didn’t want her little Maldea near the guests. Petra could see her point the girl did have appeal, but then there were limits – after all who would risk jail just to corrupt Maldea. Lesley sat opposite Mike looking cool and unflustered. Mike tried his best to play the same poker card – miserably as it turned out. Sweat beaded his forehead, and concern furrowed his brow.

“Why did you follow me Mikey, just go home it’s too late.” Lesley sounded supremely calm.

“It is not too late, and never will be – that’s what I came to say, I will wait however long it takes. However long you need, Lesley I love you.” Mike spluttered.

“Love won’t help this time, everything’s changed, you need to understand that, AND GO!” Lesley had added a touch of steel to her voice.

“No, nothings changed, I’m me, you’re you.” Mike responded.

“Didn’t you see the club I came from, it’s a lesbian club understand, it’s over.” Lesley’s expression was coldness personified.

“I saw, but I don’t believe, this woman’s pulled you into some cult, hasn’t she.” Mike spat.

“No I am doing what I want,” Lesley stood to leave the small café. “Goodbye Mike, go home!”

As Lesley turned Mike caught her arm, in a flash Lesley lent back hard on the heel of her boot. The pressure of the stiletto slid through the leather upper of Mikes Nike trainer and then sunk and inch into the top of his unprotected foot. Mike screamed his agony, and by the time his head had cleared she was gone. He paid the check and rushed through the door, limping along Avenue B for all he was worth. It was hopeless, his left trainer was filling with blood, and the pain slowed him to a crawl he had lost her!

Slowly flatteringly he made his way back to the pick up, or rather where the pick up had been. A joyful store owner greeted him, and shoved the notice in his hand “Betsy” had been impounded. Shit, the day just got better and better! As he stood there cursing he noticed a slip of a girl walk up to the club door that Lesley had emerged from. She knocked, had a brief conversation with and unseen person and turned clutching a set of keys, before dropping them into the pocket of her apron. For no sane reason he decided to follow the girl maybe, just maybe, she could lead him to Lesley.

Had Mike only known how close he was to her, Lesley stood fifty yards behind him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was so close to going to him, but she couldn’t. No way was she going to draw him into this; she spun on her bloodied heel and set off towards the setting sun, and the despised roost that was home.

 

Chapter Eighteen: Home to roost.

Lesley paused before entering the quiet kitchen; she needed a second to compose her thought. She had to keep her meeting with Mike a guarded secret, there was little doubt that Joyce would hunt him down mercilessly if she found out. She put on her “mission accomplished” face and entered the dark room. At once she felt Joyce’s presence and knew she was needed in the basement. As Lesley teetered down the narrow steps Joyce spoke.

“Well done Lesley, come join us – the ceremony will being shortly. You will soon join us fully.”

The idea thrilled Lesley, Mike was suddenly a distant memory, and she beamed in gratitude, bubbling her words.

“You mean it, Joyce – join you all, When!”

“Just as soon as we locate our new servant, you may need some patience – as you know I am careful in my selection” Joyce smiled warmly.”

Lesley’s spirits soared; Joyce would recognize her efforts at last. Black hair bobbing she skipped up to Frankie’s side and planted a kiss full on her surprised lips. To Lesley’s delight the sensual reply was deep and passionate. Frankie’s hands stoked her breasts gently teasing her cotton-covered nipples. Breathless she pulled away; as she did she noticed they were not the only entwined couple in the room Gina and Claudie were busily petting on the cushion-strewn floor. For an instant it crossed her mind that Frankie was trying to make Gina jealous, but truth was Gina wasn’t even aware of Lesley’s return. Her mood lifted to dizzying heights; at last it was all coming together.

Maldea was alone in her bedroom sulking slumped unladylike on the bed; Mamma had grounded her for a week. Her voice had carried such accusation, and after the days events Maldea had blushed at just the wrong moment. The grounding she could deal with, there was always the well-used drainpipe escape route; but having her cleaning job taken that was the pits, even when she wasn’t grounded she would have no money. Full of anger she stood and stripped off the useless apron sending it flying across the small badly wallpaper room. It hid the wall with a thud; the shock threw the mirror fragment tinkling across the bare floorboards.

“Hey, what are you banging around for, it’s all your fault!” Mamma’s voice echoed from below.

“Sorry, Mamma I dropped something, no harm done.”

She listened carefully for footfalls on the steps, when none came Maldea dashed across the room, scooped up the fragment and hid it under her pillow. She then lay back and switched on the battered radio, tweaking the volume as low as it would go. Her long fingers flicked up the light switch, and she waited for the Latin rhythm to carry her away from the boredom that was her life.

The effect of the light going out was less than relaxing for Mike, hell no, she couldn’t go to sleep at eight O’clock at night; what self-respecting teenager did that. Mike turned up his collar against the drizzle, and eased as much pressure off his sticky left foot as he could.

Standing here didn’t seem much fun, but at least it hurt less than walking – the other reason was even simpler, he had nowhere else to go.

Petra nipped out from behind the bar to swing a possessive arm around Sherry. The tall blonde glanced down at the bar maid, mildly confused.

“Hi Pet, I thought we were ancient history. What’s up?” asked Sherry smiling.

“Not sure, but ever since I got here today the place seems different, kinda spooky I s’pose” Petra stuttered.

” The ghosts of lovers past, returning for you no doubt!” Sherry giggled.

“No I’m serious – something’s off center here. Will you keep an eye out?”

“Yeah, sure don’t worry yourself, Sherry’s here.”

The mirth disappeared from Sherry’s eyes, but the confusion remained.

Early bird custom appeared at the bar, and Petra dutifully disappeared in a flurry of curves. Sherry spotted Patricia and motioned to her friend.

“Trish, is Petra using again?” Sherry inquired in a hushed tone.

“Not, that I know, nothing since the two of you…”

“Yeah sure,” Sherry quickly cut in “so how are you doin’ girl?”

“Fine – hell it’s cold in here” Trish shivered. “Oh don’t you start, here I’ll warm you up – would the lady like to dance?” Sherry winked, and dropped on hand to slap Trish’s attractive rump.

“Enchanter, Madame,” Trish replied with a giggle.

Joyce stood surrounded by her acolytes, in front of her on the table lay two items, the Bathory knife and the remaining fragment of mirror.

“This first scan will only affect those already touched by the roost, and prepare the others for the second touch.” Joyce intoned.

Joyce picked up the sacred blade and ran its tip across her plump nipple. A crimson splash of blood wetted the blade to the hilt. Joyce inverted the knife and let several thickening droplets fall on to the mirrors dull surface. At once the walls of the lounge were bathed in a dull red light.

“Come let us retire to our desires in the basement, the message is sent.”

Amid the plethora of lights in the Meow mix the dull red glow was lost, none noticed its sinister tinge. All however were affected, the touch reached into their souls and planted its dark seed. For those who had touched before it was much more profound – it started as an unsettling urge and grew into desperation. Trish and Sherry paused from their impassioned dancing, and withdrew silently to the sidelines of the throng. They looked at each other and saw the same unspoken need. Not even pausing to slake their considerable thirsts they walked past their drinks and out of the pounding club environment onto the damp sidewalk. Raising their snouts they savored the dank air, the message was clear and the call irresistible.

Sherry slipped her arm through Trish’s as they fell into step. The night had called, and they must answer.

Maldea’s dream rose to fever pitch, she ran through the graveyard in sheer panic. Her panic was driven by the feeling that it would get away from her, leave her stranded forever as an unknowing child. Behind her she could hear mamma steady steps, to her side the illuminated church beaconed its welcome; but she wanted none of it she wanted – corruption! The gossamer gown billowed around her body as she ran, her sweat plastering it seductively to her slim body. She turned the corner and ran into the arms of…

Abruptly she awoke, terrified and stimulated in similar amounts; she knew – she must answer the call. Maldea crept down the drainpipe silently, her route to paradise already planned. She dropped from the window ledge to the street, and set off at pace so intent on her goal that everything else fell outside blinkered vision. Maldea’s natural caution would normally have registered the limping form on the far side of the road tonight it did not. A second couple set out on a one-way journey.

 

Chapter Nineteen: The coming together.

The soft thud of the chill out album pulsed incessantly in the cushion-strewn basement. As lips met, hands explored willing flesh, stroking tenderly under crumpled garments, and the room was pervaded by the sweet scent of female desire. The roost members were unhurried in their mutual lust, stopping short of the heights they normally explored together.

This was a planned restraint Joyce wanted the room to be welcoming, but all of the roost needed clear minded when their invited guest arrived.

Vampyre lust when fully developed clouded the mind with unearthly passions and dimmed reality to a pale shadow. This would not do the girls needed their wits about them; this was to be their first pack attack. Even so the wet succulent skin rubbing against hers was so tempting that Joyce almost peaked, it would have been too soon. Struggling with her desire she withdrew from the huddle formed by Gina, Frankie, Claudie and the most desirable of all Lesley.

Joyce watched the sensuous display enacted before her and sighed; it was so tempting to go back into the throng and loose her body to the alien passion. She could clearly see Gina’s erect nipples poking out savagely from between Frankie’s fingers as Claudie dropped her velvet lips alternately to their hard tips, sucking them deeply between her white teeth. As her mouth moved between the buds a sliver trail of glistening saliva ran down the generous mounds towards the undulating stomach. Lesley loving caressed the tanned skin of Gina’s well-defined abdomen; occasionally letting her fingers dip to skim the dense patch of damp curls nestled snugly within the twitching thighs.

It was no good the desire was too strong, Joyce took two steps towards her impassioned roost mates; her journey was interrupted by a loud knocking from the door upstairs. Startled back from the brink of mutual lust she turned and flowed up the stairwell to greet her guests. She opened the door on the stimulating sight of Sherry and Trish locked in a deep embrace.

Joyce could see the wet tongues probing against one another, as Trish bucked against the busy hand wedged between her black thighs. They broke their embrace and turned to look at Joyce, she was the epitome of seduction from the tip of her dark locks to the tips of her elegantly turned toes.

“I had this feeling we’d meet again,” Sherry whispered in barely disguised appreciation.

“Welcome all is ready, I even have a floor show to titillate you even further.” Joyce smoldered to the pair of them.

Joyce then turned and swayed away towards the closest door in the hallway, she opened it and a warm waft of sexual desire washed its way over the newcomers. Without hesitation they entered the front door and swung it shut behind them.

Mike saw the women disappear into the house as he rounded the corner, and 50 yards ahead of him the girl paused briefly before walking up to the closed door. In desperation she scrabbled at the closed door with her fingers. It opened and her slight form slipped inside the house with cautious intent. Mike grinned, he even chuckled quietly ignoring the pain from his punctured foot as he sneaked forwards; anywhere she could get into he could. Street lamps briefly illuminated his pale face as he passed them, gone was the confidence, and the healthy tan. His bouncy blond hair now hung lank against his forehead. His expression was more akin to the obsessive than the hunter, but he was sure of one thing. This was journeys end.

Maldea shut the door firmly behind her back and lent heavily on it, a reassuring click sounded as the Yale lock secured the door. She had been lucky; Sherry had been too driven by her moist cunt to bother with such simple security. Her small breasts heaved up and down, she was deeply afraid. Yet something told her it was right to be here, it was her right, her destiny. Slowly she crept forwards in the darkened hallway, her hormones rushing into overdrive as her senses reeled form the sexual aura pervading the hall. She had to steady herself and willed the gasp to muted silence as her eyes feasted on the writhing bodies. She couldn’t see them clearly they were just visible through the door that had been left carelessly ajar. Her pupils widened to accept the degradation flooding into them, flooding in sympathy with the urine streaming from the standing girl onto the orgy of women beneath her. Maldea instantly recognized the pissing woman, but then again how could she ever forget her.

Maldea’s lips opened and the tongue slid forth as if to taste the golden spray, her hands moved with a will of their own to her small tits and hungry slit. She was mesmerized by, and at the same time drawn towards the perverted act. As she moved onto the top off the stairwell she noticed the others, the spell was broken by fear of discovery and she stopped in her tracks. She had little to fear however the three standing women were transfixed by the spectacle at their feet.

The center one of the three was considerably shorter than the blond on her right or the plumper black girl to her left, however she seemed to be orchestrating things, one hand busily fondled the blonds ass while the other delved between the ample cheeks of the black beauty. Lust rose from Maldea’s virgin clit, the burning passion played games with her mind and drove it wild with wanton seduction. Her masturbation took on a ritualistic air, she was a woman and she would come like a woman not like some timid child.

Mike steadied himself on the doorstep and pressed his shoulder into the creaking door with all his weight and might. The door was immovable; it stood in splendid resolution rejecting his advances even when frustration added ferocity to the attempt. It refused to budge one inch, Mike stood back cursing softly, as the sweat collected on his damp locks before falling unnoticed to the step. There must be another way in, he was resourceful – he would find it and rescue Lesley. Feeling along the sidewall of the house Mike blindly made his way through the dark passage and into the back garden. Mike surveyed the shadowy rear of the property, it all looked secure.

Hang on – the back door looked damaged, cautiously Mike padded painfully forward. A sheet of ply had replaced the glass in the wooden framed door, now if this was just nailed he could push it out. Still anguished by his earlier failure Mike pushed with all his strength against the wood. This time his effort met with splendid if somewhat sudden success. The ply board flew clattering to the kitchen floor; unfortunately Mike’s own momentum added to his precarious balance and launched him headlong through the now empty frame. His body cleared the hole with ease, as did his legs, it was only his feet that slammed into the solid wood. Mike’s involuntary scream could have woken the dead, and in fact it did.

 

Chapter 20: Caught in the act.

The resounding crash from the back of the house even startled Maldea back to reality, her fingers still frantically skimmed the straining flesh bud at the apex of her tiny slit, but her eyes shot an uncertain glance towards the sound. The next thing Maldea knew strong hands grasped her firmly and lifted her from a squatting position to her feet.

“Take care of the little bird Claudie.” Joyce commanded as she rushed past the girl.

Lesley who had the strangest feeling as she fled overtook Joyce. Lesley couldn’t help but think that someone needed her protection. She must get there first. Indeed she did and what she saw drained the color from her face. Mike was sprawled across the kitchen floor with blood gushing from between his hands; he mewled like an injured animal as a crimson stream pulsed from his tightly clasped foot. There was so much blood it would drive them crazy! Defensively Lesley spun on her bare foot and spread her legs wide. She positioned herself between the rest of the roost and Mike’s pathetic form.

Meanwhile in the basement Maldea was coming like a woman, screaming her orgasm into the depths of Trish’s slick vulva. Her childish abdomen was swollen and undulating in time to the pummeling of Sherry’s fist in her once tight vagina, small vestiges of hymen flapped uselessly against the flexing wrist. Her own fingers were grappling in the depths of Claudie’s overflowing slit. Maldea felt Sherry’s fist tremble and go rigid inside her, through barely opened eyes she could she the blond convulsing in pleasure.

Claudie must be one hell of a lover to make a girl come like that by just holding her breasts. Sherry collapsed in a heap and her hand relaxed motionless within Maldea’s stretched opening. Maldea reached another peak just as Trish’s large clit found and then ground against the teenagers nose. Maldea thought she would drown in the woman’s juices, as a sudden gush covered her face in forbidden secretions. Trish tumbled from her mounted position on Maldea’s face, and Maldea saw Claudie clearly at last; her final scream was one of terror rather than passion. Then the hands found her.

“Ah so its finally decision time.” Joyce spoke coldly as she eyed Lesley with uncertainty.

“Leave him alone.” Lesley warned.

“Wrong decision girl,” Frankie spoke low “I’ve waited for this.”

Frankie made a deranged grab for Lesley’s neck, Lesley evaded it with ease but in so doing she gave room for Gina to slip past her. Gina pounced on Mike’s fallen body, causing Lesley to spin and grip the vampyre firmly by the hair. Lesley pulled lush clumps free as she wrestled to get the lethal Gina away from Mike.

“Leave him bitch, leave him alone…” Lesley left her sentence unfinished as her voice gurgled incoherently.

“Time to join us,” Joyce crowed in victory.

Joyce’s hands were firmly planted on Lesley’s breasts, and their blood exchanged through the umbilici that attached Joyce to Lesley’s exploding nipples. The alien blood coursed through the girl’s body rampaging towards the vulnerable brain tissues. Once found the cells were transformed and the nerve impulses raced to every fiber of Lesley’s body. Lesley came in a\ shower of red-hot orgasms each new one building before the last had time to subside. She lost control and released Gina; tufts of hair fell from her hands, and Lesley slumped to her knees. She felt the need, the desperation – she must feed – NOW! Her hands raked at the shirt on Mike’s chest – shredding it in seconds. Her hunger was so intense that the serrated tubes leapt from her palms a good six inches to latch onto Mike’s unwilling nipples. He turned to her in desperation.

“Lesley no, Please no!” Mike’s voice cracked along the edges of insanity.

Mike stared directly into Lesley’s wide-open slit; it seemed to wink seductively at him. The unexpected stream of hot piss hit him between the eyes, stinging and blinding them. Mike fought hard but he was trapped, and then he felt another set of tube teeth bite his stomach. Someone ripped open his trousers; and white volcanic agony hit him as his testicles were punctured, his unruly cock extended inappropriately and a final set of tubes latched onto his swollen glans. His penis spurted semen uselessly high into the kitchen that had become his torture chamber. Mike came profusely, as was fitting for any mans final ejaculation. Even long after all signs of life were gone the roost feasted on Mike and drained every drop of liquid desire he contained.

The night passed in an orgy of Wampyr sex, not an inch of body was left unexplored. Maldea passed from being an inexperienced virgin to becoming debauched sex-slave with every passing minute. Finally the house calmed down, as unnatural desires was temporarily slaked. Efforts to effect repairs were now more important; they needed to be complete before the approaching sunrise arrived. The kitchen door was resealed, and the husk of Mike’s once proud body was carried down to the basement and dumped in a dark corner. Disposal would have to wait – it would be dawn soon.

“We will gather in the kitchen for a final ceremony,” Joyce announced.

As Joyce stood surrounded by her servants, her brow knotted in barely suppressed anger.

“One of us has acted without instruction, has put their own desire to feed before my command,” Joyce’s voice thundered, “Make yourself known.”

Gina solemnly took a single step forwards; there was an intake of breath from all, Frankie glared at Joyce with menace as she fidgeted uncomfortably.

“I instructed you to leave the man to me, you chose to ignore my command. Did you hear me, do you have telepathy?” Asked Joyce with menace.

“No I never…” Gina’s trembling reply was cut short.

“You lie, and you know the penalty for moving against me!” Joyce sneered.

“You can’t – you bitch, I’ll kill you first” Screamed Frankie and she lunged violently at Joyce.

Joyce stumbled backwards from the unanticipated contact; pain was written loud across her face, the reason became obvious. The hilt of the Bathory dagger protruded darkly from between Joyce’s breasts. As the blood ran down her stomach blue flames started to lick outwards from the deeply embedded knife. With supreme effort Joyce’s hands raised and fastened on the weapon; slowly she drew it from her injured heart. She faltered and fell to her knees in agony.

“Claudie,” she uttered in desperation.

Claudia rushed forwards and added all of her strength to the hurried task of removing the cruel blade. It was hopeless! The knife began to sink further in, and Claudia felt her body being repelled by the blade as it fed on Joyce’s immense strength. With an incredible force Claudia was hurled back from Joyce’s dying body. She flew and smashed into the kitchen wall, falling winded to the floor. Claudia watched in immobilized horror as her sister perished. Wicked blue flames licked up Joyce’s disintegrating body. Her dark hair lit and she burned like a melting human candle, in her death throws her charred body fell forward and hit the floor – driving the blade deep into her desiccated body. Joyce was gone.

Claudia regained her breath, if not her composure; tears streamed from her grieving eyes.

“Seize them!” She ordered.

Sherry and Trish stepped forwards and subdued Gina, while Lesley grappled with Frankie.

“Banish them, NOW!” screamed a demented Claudia.

Maldea opened the kitchen door and the rebellious pair was thrown from the house. The door snapped shut.

“Through the power of my mind you will witness the fate of Vampyre traitors. Watch and learn.”

They stood in complete silence as the images from the garden entered their souls.

Gina was desperately looking for somewhere to hide, Frankie watched her with pity in her eyes.

“Forget it Gina, we’re dead meat, come here – lets at least go out in some style.” Frankie suggested.

Gina was calmed by Frankie’s wisdom, and walked up to her brave friend. Tenderly they kissed and relaxed, breast pressed against rounded breast, pubis against warm pubis. At last they were together and they were themselves. The first rays of morning sunlight fell on the entwined lovers and a fine blue smoke haze surrounded them. Healthy pliant flesh blossomed ugly blisters as the caustic sunlight stripped away their sin. Soon it was impossible to tell where one lover began and the other ended, the flesh melted and merged in such bubbling intensity. Slowly the bodies disintegrated and fell silently into a single mound of wind swept ash. In the kitchen the remainder of the roost stood transfixed, the fear of understanding glowing in their illuminated eyes.

“So die all outcasts,” Claudia announced.

She then turned and walked deliberately towards the waiting basement there was not one glance back. Her frightened acolytes following in complete silence.

 

Chapter Twenty-one: A new order.

All was quiet in the sleeping house, Maldea, Sherry and Trish slept in a protective huddle. Claudia had chosen a shocked Lesley as her partner and they slumbered wrapped in each other’s limbs. The kitchen had returned to its customary silence, only one thing was changing in the deserted room.

Joyce’s cremated remains slowly crumbled to fine dust, and the once embedded knife clattered to the bare floorboards. The blade of the knife shone with a ghostly blue sheen, gradually this flowed from the blade and dripped through the yawning boards. The Bathory blade returned to its normal shade and then began to glow with a dull red light.

In the basement a patch of blue liquid gathered on the dark ceiling, slowly it grew in volume and finally dripped to the basement floor. With increasing speed the droplet streaked across the floor like an electric blue stream. It swept past the sleeping bodies into the darkest corner of the room. Finding its host the droplet finally slid between the dried lips of Mike’s corpse. Immediate changes ensued, the parchment skin softened, plumping itself in to glowing pinkness. The change swept down the deeply creased neck and into the once fit body. Musculature began to form, and regal blood to flow, the soft thump, thump of a distant heartbeat sounded in the still air.

The blond hair on Mike head shone once again as it cascaded onto firm shoulders. From these sprung a long smooth neck that lead to the most exquisitely finely detailed face. The high cheekbones were topped with dark violet eyes gracing sockets deep with mystery. A short upturned nose was placed above a wide sensual mouth. Mike stirred and his soft hands fell to reveal small plump breasts tipped with honeyed erect nipples. At his groin the rude penile lump was replaced with a fine rounded mound, covered with downy blond fluff. The tops of the thighs were sculpted and firm, the gap where they joined revealed a fine pair of full lush labia.

Mike was in fact dead, both dead and gone – in Mike’s place lived Mika. Mika was a most desirable young woman. Mika dreamed of her mistress, of her cruelty and her passion. She knew of both, she had tasted both – however she still could not say which she preferred. The name teased around her mind her mistress was… it was so close she could feel its sensual texture of the word but she could not remember it. She could remember the body though the firm breasts she caressed, the large buds on their tips seemingly always erect. Elegant hands; hands that could take her to the very highest pleasure then slap her down into the depths of despair. She could remember the musky flavor of her lover’s vaginal lips. They were so soft and wide – easily sliding against her tongue. The feel of the stiff nub between her fingers as she stroked the shaft of Darvulia’s engorged clitoris. Darvulia – that was her name, a name to remember, a name to fear! Mika snapped out of her dream state and into the twentieth century basement.

Claudia woke at the same instant; one thought was in her mind – survival. She was in mortal danger, but from what? She scanned the room desperately for clues, there were none? Then her mind recoiled from an intense touch.

“Sister prepare to die, as impures always will.” Blasted into her consciousness.

“Who dare threaten a Vampyre, you will be the fatality – fool!” Claudia transmitted.

“A Wampyr can tear your soul apart, I am Wampyr not Vampyre.” Came the icy reply.

“I can serve you mistress, spare me.” Claudia pleaded.

“You can serve me as can your spawn – by dying,” Chided the Wampyr “Now enough idle chat come to me and die.”

Claudia’s unwilling legs carried her stiffly towards the dark corner.

Mika stepped forwards into Claudia’s view, Claudia was lost – she had never seen anything as beautiful. Despite her fear her nipples hardened and thick juices ran slickly down her thighs. At once all the roost awakened, driven by the desire to protect Claudia. Sherry and Trish snarled bearing their teeth to the intruder, Lesley clawed the air and howled in sincere challenge. Despite this Mika remained calm and reached out a hand towards Claudia’s breast.

Claudia came at the mere thought of the embrace, but when it came it brought pain not passion. The girls rushed forwards to attack, but were stopped in their tracks by the sight of Claudie’s heart still beating held high in the intruders fist. In a second Mika closed her fist and crushed the heart to stillness. As the beating stopped the attacking Vampyres collapsed en-masse. Rapidly Mika made her way to the side of Lesley’s body, her features had already started to crumble. Mika bared her long canines and sank them swiftly into Lesley breast, drinking deeply of her drying blood. Lesley appearance improved and tenderly Mika returned her to the floor. Mika then drew one long fingernail across her own right wrist, and placed the weeping gash to Lesley’s lips. Mika smiled as she felt the lips suckle, she had been in time, and her Lesley would recover given enough rest.

Maldea had been a silent witness to the whole act, and began to wish she had never ventured from her mothers watchful eyes.

“So what have we here, a little vampyres slut,” Mika spoke softly, “Now you could have your uses day walker.”

“Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me – I won’t tell anyone.” Maldea heard her own voice echo.

“Don’t be scared slut, you can serve me and Lesley well,” Mika smiled.

“In fact death always makes me wet, shall we play little one?”

Maldea knew better than to reply, she simply crawled on her hands and knees to Mika and placed her lips on the bare vulva. As the intoxicating fluid flowed into her mouth Maldea lost all her fear and forgot her mother.

The mistress was all that mattered; only the mistress could give such sweet pleasure. Maldea felt the hands on her hair – her mouth was mashed into the soporific flesh. Maldea’s own hands parted her well used labia and Maldea’s clit burst into a new life, as her fingers played she was sure she could feel it grow; it felt long and hard as it rippled to its first release. Maldea was a slave, but she now felt fully free.

 

Chapter twenty-two: A new freedom.

Lesley woke with a start confusion raced through her very soul. It must have been a dream, a nightmare even, had all of her sisters really perished? Moving her head gently she glanced around the still basement, and to her relief she could make out some familiar bodies in the dim light.

Quietly she moved towards the nearest and spoke in a whisper. “Trish, are you awake Trish?”

When no reply came she reached out a hand to the sleeping girls shoulder, it was so cold to the touch. Gently she shook Trish in an attempt to rouse her, Trish let out a long sorrowful sigh and rolled on to her back. The young features of her once pretty face were gone, and were replaced by deep ravine like creases; the previously full lips were pulled savagely back in a sardonic grimace – exposing chalk white teeth in blackened gums. A death rattle gurgled through Trish’s decayed throat and the weak light in her sunken eyes vaporized like mist before a summer sun.

Panicked into action Lesley stood and rushed to check her other roost mates. Sherry laid flat on her back her once blond hair now a shock of white above a wizened face. Her chest was unmoving, the breasts a withered memory of their former glory. Tears pricked at the corners of Lesley’s eyes as she turned in desperation to Claudia for help. What she saw overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees weeping besides Claudia’s defiled body. They were all gone, the roost was dead; someone must pay for this sacrilege!

As she sat on her haunches seething with agony Lesley slowly became aware of a presence, the hairs on her neck raised in fearful respect. She could feel the prying eyes burning through her skin and ravishing her soul.

Lesley felt pure unadulterated hatred course through her veins, and her lips drew back in a feral snarl. Without any warning she sprang up, and turning in one fluid motion toppled the voyeuristic killer. Entwined and struggling they tumbled over and over on the rough floor. Lesley savagely lunged trying in desperation to sink her long canines into the interlopers flesh. Try as she might she could not reach, the body under her tensioned momentarily. Lesley was suddenly flying though the air in a graceful arc, time stood still until she slammed heavily into a wall. Her breath exploded through her snarling teeth and Lesley fell away from the wall limp and winded. The killer stood up and glared down at Lesley with wicked intent.

“Why don’t you just execute me like my sisters?” Gasped Lesley.

“Execute you, no I saved you – transformed you. You owe me too much to be granted death so easily!” Replied Mika.

“I owe you, how dare you say that…” Lesley’s voice trailed off, “Mike? Mike is that you? I can’t see you clearly”

Mika stepped forward into the dim light.

“Mike is dead, but Mika lives on. Mika granted you Wampyr life,” Mika announced.

Lesley swallowed hard as she was confronted with the oddest of sights. Before her stood the most desirable of women, a woman but undeniably in some way her Mike. Lesley felt at once relieved and disappointed, ecstatic and depressed, made and broken. She had brought him to this, to be a travesty of nature. Pity welled within her, and she reached towards him, her, it, as she was filled with regret and compassion.

“Mike I’m so sorry…” her sentence and her remorse were cut savagely short.

Mika slapped away the proffered hand with a violent blow.

“You dare to pity me – your mistress? Learn your place Lesley!” Mika spat.

Lesley quivered as an unseen icy hand closed around her beating heart and slowed it to a virtual stop. Lesley’s skin tone faded to grey, her lips blued from oxygen starvation, and she felt on the very cusp of death. Slowly the hand relaxed and life flowed back into Lesley’s quaking limbs.

“I can squash you like the insect you are any time I wish. It’s only the memory of love lost that keeps you alive. That and Mike’s desire for vengeance against your sins” Mika growled.

Lesley shuddered in realization of the trap she had fallen into; Mika loved and hated her in equal measure. Theirs’ would be no passion only pain and recrimination. Friend and tormenter, an angel and devil rolled into one; with Mika her future was full only of the agony of spurned love.

“Now Lesley, before our days rest I desire your body. Let us fuck!” Mika smiled with evil interest.

“Go to hell!” Barked Lesley defiantly.

“Already there, why don’t you join me?” Grinned Mika.

Lesley gasped, she could feel her nipples tightening, swelling against an unseen touch. Her breathing became ragged with desire, as the need in her belly grew from a flicking flame into a raging inferno. Her labia pulled back as the hard nub of clitoris pressed forward resolutely, and thick juices cascaded from her gaping vulva. She must come, come soon surely but no, no the desire just spiraled on. Her bodily control gone her pee gushed out and pooled between her legs saturating her feet. Then she felt Mika in her thoughts, the rabid exploration of Lesley’s most hidden desires, and the violent caress on her minds erogenous zones. Lesley’s need, doubled, trebled, and then came the pleasure, a pleasure so intense it was pure beautiful pain. The pain screamed its name through Lesley’s gasping lips. Her body writhed in erotic agony, trembling with unearthly desires.

“Excuse me for a while Lesley, I have some orders to issue to the day walker. Enjoy yourself!” Mika smiled.

Lesley could not reply, as the pain of pleasure took her to the very edge of reason. All she could do was to watch as Mika walked away. Lesley’s insanely frustrated body danced on in an obscene parody of self-love. Lesley had found a new love, and an old hatred. A ball of disgust and venom hardened within her, just as her clitoris hardened without. A trickle of scarlet gathered at its tip and ran slowly down the deeply ridged shaft. Lesley bucked hard against the pleasure flowing from her body, but even now she could not come! As her desire vaulted her into a welcome unconsciousness she had one final chilling thought.

“I have to destroy her, or be destroyed trying. Mika must die…”

Lesley slid effortlessly from this world into her own personal hell.

 

Chapter twenty-three: Maldea’s quests begin.

Jeff whistled as he walked up the street towards the pool hall, his step was jaunty his mood agreeably light. Still no jobs on the horizon, so pool could fill his days – flunking your exams could have some benefits after all! He swung around the corner and spun the cue bag in his hand. As he gazed up the road he noticed a girl emerge from one of the more distant houses with disinterest. Hang on though wasn’t that the crazy house? Jeff walked faster to confirm his suspicions, and yes it was.

The irony struck him hard – those weird women had kids? Jeff instinctively buried his head a little further into his shoulders to disguise his interest as he walked towards the oncoming girl. As he got closer he could make her out a bit better, a Hispanic kid not a bad looker but even for him she was far too young. As he secretly observed her he felt his dick start to harden inappropriately, lengthening and uncoiling gradually it strained against his boxers.

She had transfixed him; the long dark hair swayed seductively with each step forward she took, while small breasts jiggled in synchronicity under the white school blouse. He could clearly see the dark nipple tipping each tiny mound through the stretched cotton. He was now so stiffly erect that his pace slowed and he developed a certain distinctive gait. As she got within ten feet of him she winked and lightly pursed her damp lips. Jeff unwillingly ejaculated lustily and buckled slightly at the knees. Her eyes flew to his groin where to his eternal shame she must have seen the spreading dark cum stain on his jeans.

Jeff stood alone in post-orgasmic confusion on the deserted street, where the hell had she gone? No one could move that fast surely?

Forgetting his disheveled appearance Jeff turned and ran to the distant corner. What ever he had expected to see it wasn’t what he saw. The street was empty but for a single person, it was not the girl, it was a heavily pregnant woman. Her head was back; eyes shut in ecstasy as her slim arm stretched over her bugling belly holding up her skirt and letting her other hand plunder the contents of her pants. For the second time that morning his dick sprang its sticky head forth, what was happening to him, what the hell was going on? He had to find out!

Maldea walked on mildly amused by the mayhem around her, such powers she had been given, now this was fun with a capital “F”. Maldea gazed under discretely lowered eyelids at her latest victim; a tall traffic cop reclined against the graffiti strewn wall, his fly torn open he pumped at his long cock as streams of spunk splattered the sidewalk and his dark blue uniform. This was so good! Maldea extended her hand and rubbed the slippery helmet of his stiff penis. As she raised her hand to her lips to savor the flavor of his cum, her fun was cut short. Maldea felt an icy grip on her excited heart; her mind received the rebuke directly, and reeled from the impact.

“You have played enough, I told you not to attract attention. Control yourself and the powers I have entrusted in you, or suffer for eternity! You have been given your tasks, now complete them – or die young!” Mika’s voice was as terrible as it was irresistible.

Maldea once again dropped her eyes and returned to her original route, back to the school. As she walked on she could not resist one quick taste of her sticky fingers, yes it was good. Smiling to herself she quickened her passage towards the School of the Sacred Heart.

Sister Agnes sat alone in her study preparing for today’s lessons. She wished sometimes that her calling had been towards the certainties of the biblical texts her colleagues taught. However god had filled her with awe for the mysteries of the world and universe, and her calling to the science that enabled the understanding of these phenomenons. Once, before her conversion, this had been fulfillment enough but now she understood her true god given task. It was to unite the understanding of science with the certainty of faith and to explain this wonder to her pupils.

Agnes sometimes worried she would not be up to god’s calling. These girls were more interested in boys and rap music than either science or religion. To attempt to instill the awe and wonder she felt into their hearts seemed a hopeless, thankless task. Agnes chastised her negativity and placed her palms gently together, closing the world from her eyes.

After a few moments’ contemplation and prayer she felt refreshed and revitalized and left the clutter of her office for the first lesson of the day. Maybe today someone would be converted; yes she felt it in her bones today would be the day.

As usual the class took its own sweet time to settle down, but eventually the lesson progressed, developed and ended. As the class started to clear Sister Agnes felt a little disappointed, no flashes of light or instant converts, just another group of hormone endowed giggling girls. Was this really her reason for being here she wondered.

“Please Sister I need your help.”

The sudden communication broke through Agnes’s contemplation eliciting, a minor startled jump. Agnes laughed at herself, and looked up at the source of the polite enquiry. She was surprised to see Maldea standing before her, this girl was usually too insecure to ask anyone for anything.

“Sorry Maldea, I was miles away. What sort of help.” Agnes asked kindly.

“I have a crisis, a crisis of faith, please help me Sister,” Maldea implored, “I don’t think I believe any more!”

“We all are challenged in this way sometimes Maldea, pray for guidance and two “Hail Mary’s” now on your way” Agnes motioned Maldea to the door and her next lesson.

Maldea reached out and grasped the Nun’s arm; her grip was tight enough to hurt.

“I fear for my mortal soul please I need you, not prayers you must save me from myself” Maldea’s voice quavered, it was full of badly suppressed emotion.

Agnes winced from the powerful grip, and was just about to forcibly remove the girl’s hand from her arm when she realized; this is the test!

“Maldea, I have a free period now, come with me and we will discuss this. My study is private if you prefer to discuss this alone?” Agnes asked resisting the desire to rescue her bruised forearm.

“Yes I can’t say what I have to confess to anyone else in the school, please save me from myself” Maldea relaxed slightly, the blood flowed back into her tingling knuckles.

“Good,” sighed Agnes “follow me Maldea” surreptitiously the nun pumped her fist to get some feeling back into her arm.

Agnes whisked through the doorway and along the corridor with purpose. As she led the sullen teenager she wondered what she was about to hear. Undoubtedly Maldea had discovered masturbation and was finding it hard to resist, and the passion made her doubt her faith itself. She was just the age, and her insistence that she herself was the problem fitted the normal pattern. She would guide her Agnes had plenty of experience of teenage angst, and her own licentious nature tempted her nightly. Agnes had been through this conversation with several girls over the years, and may be this time she could actually help. Of course she could help – her premonition had told her that much. Confidently Sister Agnes opened the door to her study, and invited the devil to sup within.

 

Chapter twenty-four: And so to hell.

Lesley awoke in an unfamiliar bed, but it was comfortable and sumptuous and from her position on her back she could see the delicate silk canopy above her. Elegantly carved posts rose from the beds corners and were sumptuously draped in the same expensive material. Lesley felt warm and safe, secure in her new surroundings. Lesley went to stretch and get up – after all this place warranted exploration. However she could not move, not one muscle all she could do was gaze upwards at the billowing material.

Lesley heard a door open to her right, she strained her eyes as far as they would go, and still it was no use – the door was beyond her peripheral vision. She heard a few foreign spoken words someone was here, surely they would help her. Lesley tried to speak, and with a great effort managed to move her tongue.

“Mhhhmss, Mhhmmmmsss.” Lesley strained to form any words.

“So Darvulia our guest is awake and noisy, prevent that could you?” Asked a clear aristocratic voice.

Before Lesley’s eyes a mask appeared, no not a mask – it was a scold’s bridle! Lesley’s face distorted in fear, but she could do nothing to prevent the bridle being secured forcibly in place by unseen hands. Her mouth was filled with the sharp metallic tang of rusted metal, worse still a pointed outcrop of iron bit onto her tongue. To move her tongue now would result in nothing but lacerations, but no sound would escape from the stifled mouth.

“Excellent, now lets get the formalities over shall we, I am Erzebet Bathory and this is my consort Darvulia. Your mistress Mika, blood of my blood, has sent you to us for training. You will learn the secret desire for pain, the lust of immortals, and join us. This is your destiny, it always was.”

The unseen orator announced in a ceremonial tone.

Lesley made a desperate bid to regain control of her body she knew now she must flee! Her face creased in concentration, and sweat beaded on her knotted brow, every fiber of her being screamed for freedom. The result\ was nothing, other than her expression nothing changed. In a fleeting second her expression shifted from complete concentration to abject fear. She was at their mercy!

“My you are a spirited one, never mind we will break you. Pleasure and pain, pleasure for us and pain for you. Darvulia – prepare!” Erzebet commanded.

In one fluid motion the sheet covering Lesley was ripped from her naked body. Darvulia moved silently to the bedside, a cutthroat razor open in her right hand. Without ceremony she placed the blade on Lesley naked stomach and swept it down through the hairs of Lesley’s dark mound. Lesley trashed her tongue impaling the spike still deeper, as the hairs were torn from her pubis. The agony doubled once the blade slipped between her outstretched legs and dragged the down from her unlubricated lips. Lesley screwed her eyes shut to block out the razors burn, then suddenly it was gone, and pure relief flooded her. Then an instant later Darvulia’s face filled her vision, it was savage in its intense beauty. The deep violet eyes drank deep of Lesley’s and she could feel the close scrutiny of her will. Without warning her head was jerked violently up as her tormentor grabbed and tugged a handful of black hair.

“Still defiant then, I will mark you accordingly!” Darvulia chided.

The dragging razor scrapped painfully across Lesley’s scalp as the first lock of hair was shaved away. As Lesley watched its dark curl slip past her face on its way to the floor tears streamed down her cheeks. Was she to be left with nothing, to be stripped bare of her own being? Darvulia worked on with a cruel determination and soon dark hair adorned the sheet below Lesley’s newly bald-pate. Lesley could feel the cold castle air ravaging her sore shaven skin, it prickled with a savage icy intensity.

She felt naked, exposed and used – her very persona ripped open for all to view.

As she lay there bleeding Darvulia and Erzebet mounted the bed; the consort straddled her head while Erzebet parted her legs over Lesley’s newly denuded mound. Simultaneously they dragged back the draws under their gossamer gowns and peed lustily on to the trapped girl. The torrents of acidic urine spayed over Lesley’s raw and cut skin. Each droplet stung and burnt as it splashed and trickled its painful route to the now saturated sheet. Even through the agony Lesley was aware of her desire mounting, as her nipples reared unrepentant into the cold castle air.

It seemed impossible to her but the pain and humiliation was turning her on! The debauchery was enticing, and the pain delicious in its splendor. One wet pubis descended towards her encased face; suddenly the bridle was gone, and a wildly thrashing pubis replaced it. Pain seared though Lesley ravaged tongue as it mashed against the urine soaked vulva. The pain developed and twisted in Lesley’s entrails and became desire; impure unadulterated passion pulsed through the shaven slave.

Lesley felt the other slit slide forcefully against her naked mound, gradually it shifted bringing Erzebet’s vast swollen bud in firm contact with her own smaller clitoris. Lesley murmured her delight and responded by pressing her shaft against the solid dome. All too soon it slipped away and descended further – finally pressing against the rosebud of Lesley’s anus. The sphincter relaxed and Lesley felt her anal walls stretching against the pistoning invader. She had never felt anything remotely like this; true disgust mixed with hot wet desire.

The slit above her mouth slid away, thrusting its hard clitoris against the bridge of her nose. Her tongue touched and tasted a bitter sponginess; against her better judgement her tongue rolled up, and pushed itself deep into Darvulia’s rectum, flicking tenderly against the solid muscular walls.

Her anus filled with one woman’s clitoris and her mouth defiled with another woman’s heady aroma Lesley finally came. Her will was crushed; her soul sold to the highest bidder, to all but her mistresses’ Lesley ceased to exist.

 

Chapter Twenty-five: The Lesson continueth.

Sister Agnes directed Maldea to the most comfortable of the chairs before settling herself down behind her desk. Agnes smiled generously and spoke in conspiratorial tone.

“So now we are alone Maldea, tell me of your terrible sin” Agnes smiled attempting to lighten the atmosphere, and relax the concerned girl.

“I’m not sure you will understand…” Maldea’s voice tailed off in embarrassment.

“I think I know what’s worrying you Maldea, we all have desires” The sister calmly replied.

“It’s not my desires that are the problem, I make other people desire. I like it but it’s wrong, I am evil!” Maldea explained.

Sister Agnes face crumpled with concern.

“Other people desire you? But you are far too young, who are these monsters?” Agnes asked her voice quavered with thinly disguised contempt.

“No you don’t understand I make them do it!” Maldea sighed as tears erupted and streamed from her moist brown eyes.

“You do not cause other peoples desire Maldea, YOU ARE AN INNOCENT!”

Agnes stood as her distress and temper flared in response to the girl’s apparent self-guilt. Maldea however was not concentrating on these words, just the one word exploding within her head. Mika’s clear and seductive voice repeated the three letters over, and over.

“NOW!” Maldea’s mind screamed.

Maldea froze, realizing the implications of her direct order. She gazed in confusion and her mouth opened slightly, her parted lips gave her a vacant expression a thin line of spittle ran down her chin. Her mind reeled in turmoil, trying desperately to avoid responding to the insistent directive. Maldea felt her willpower slipping slowly, and then rushing away from her.

Sister Agnes waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming. Agnes looked more closely at the girl and noticed the dream-like eyes first. Was this a trance, or a fit she wondered? As she leapt from her chair to rush to the stricken girl’s aid, the first waves of thick, cloying desire washed over her. Agnes ignored the slickness of her thighs, and the rub of her stud-like nipples on her habit. The sister’s Adrenalin rush pushed the strong sexual impulses to the back of her mind, for the moment.

“Maldea, are you alright?” Agnes asked urgently “Answer me, Maldea.”

Maldea sat statue-like, seemingly unable to respond. Agnes gripped the girl’s hand trying to shake her free from whatever held her.

“Maldea, MALDEA!” Agnes pleaded for a response.

Maldea said not a word but merely looked downwards towards her captive hand. As she watched the nun’s grip lightened, and the sister’s supple fingers started a slowly rotating massage of Maldea’s cupped palm. The girl concentrated her gaze on the circling fingers and smiled. Agnes was reassured, Maldea’s smile was a positive response, and it looked as if the seizure was ending. Without any warning electric jolts of pure pleasure burst from Agnes’s fingers and rippled up her trembling arm. The sister’s right hand pulsed with orgasmic delight, and circles of depravity flowed across the young nun’s frame. Agnes’s mind was aflame, but still her moral code held fast. The desire for release could not overcome her disgust at turning her youthful charge into a complicit lover. The confused nun stood, and with feet of clay walked away from the girl to the seclusion of her chair, hidden by the sanctuary of her cluttered desk she slumped to recover. Gradually her head cleared, her heart calmed and her discipline returned. She turned to glare at Maldea.

“Leave this girl demon, I cast you out in the name of Christ our lord.”

Agnes’s clutched her crucifix with grim determination. Maldea just smiled and concentrated on the small form splayed on the revered cross in the sisters shaking hands. Confusion crossed the nuns face, then more certainty – she could feel the power emanating from the holy relic in her grasp. The figure of Christ was moving, gyrating against her hand, such power – this was indeed a special day.

“Look at you savior,” Maldea teased.

Agnes glanced at the wooden cross, her eyes widened with amazement the figure of Christ was no longer pewter! A miniature human squirmed in her fist; she relaxed her fingers to see his divine form more clearly. What she saw fragmented her faith, for the image of god writhed in her hand, sporting a full and brash erection, the sudden release of pressure sparked a miniature eruption from the tip of the stretched organ.

The white spunk jetted arching high into the air before hitting her skin and immediately soaking in to the moist palm. Agnes instantly convulsed in pleasure, her hands flew from the cross to the tattered hem of her habit. She drew the heavy cloth away from her body, before plunging her lustful hands deep in to her neglected slit. Through the haze of unearthly desire she saw Maldea approach her, the girl dipped her face to the juncture of the nuns thighs and ran her tongue along the vibrating lips. Sister Agnes knew at once she was lost, as she was drawn willingly into the darkly sensual world her pupil inhabited.

 

Chapter Twenty-six: Sister of no mercy.

Agnes stood in the street and hesitated before the door of the house, why she was here she couldn’t really say. What the school were doing about her classes she didn’t really care. All she knew was something had happened and this was the place she had to be. It was wrong, but it felt so right – finally she raised her hand and tapped lightly on the door. No one came, but the door swung open inviting her in. Once inside she felt drawn towards the first door in the hallway, as she opened it and stepped down the first few steps the front door swung snugly shut.

Jeff stood watching, and idly scratching his head – this took the biscuit; even nuns were going to the house now, and his bet was whatever that place was – it wasn’t a convent! He hesitated to break into the place with a sister present; maybe she’d been called on to exorcise the place. No he’d just watch, watch and wait until he could make sense of the weird goings on. Hell this was more fun than the pool hall any day!

As Agnes stepped from the final step onto the unkempt floor of the basement, she felt uneasy – something was here something intrinsically evil. Then she saw it – as her eyes became more accustomed to the dark she saw the spirit, in the form of a woman it stood observing her from the far side of the room. Against every fiber of her soul the nun felt drawn to the apparition, as she got closer she could see Mika’s extreme beauty, and the vast obscenity that crawled beneath the smooth white skin.

Agnes stopped two paces short of the powerful figure; Mika immediately closed the gap between them and nuzzled her face into the warmth of the young nun’s neck. Mika bit and savored the corruption of every blood cell that pulsed from the vein into her waiting mouth.

Agnes was in ecstasy; her libido soared on wings of impure lust as all the goodness was sucked from her. Not just blood flowed from her to Mika – all of Agnes’s beliefs and morals were sucked dry, leaving just the empty husk of her darkest desires intact within her transformed breast. The very fabric of her habit changed, it darkened until it seemed to draw all the dim light in the room in to the black hole of its weave. All light, all hope was gone to look on Agnes was to look on pure despair. Her thirst for debasement temporarily slaked Mika stood back to admire her handiwork. Agnes smiled a terrible smile and spoke.

“I would like to play Mika,” Agnes stated in a dry wicked drawl.

“Play? How my pet?” Mika asked.

“I want to play with that!” Agnes extended a hand and pointed to a slumped form in the corner of the room.

“By all means, let me prepare it and our game can begin,” Mika complied.

Mika walked over to the hairless body crumpled in the corner and spoke as if addressing a disobedient dog.

“Up Lesley stand, and meet your nemesis, her name is Agnes but you will call her The Mistress.”

Lesley stood immediately on uncertain legs and glanced towards the dark figure. Her eyes made contact with the nun’s for a mere instant before they shot down in subservience to the floor.

Mika watched with amusement as the sister crouched to pick up a discarded piece of electrical flex. With great ceremony Agnes wound it around her fist, leaving a good two yards hanging loose, the copper wire splayed dangerously at it’s ragged tip. Agnes flicked the wire with savage ease; the crack spilt the silent air in the hushed cellar. The next crack brought a squeal of perverted delight from Lesley’s trembling lips – the game was on!

 

Chapter Twenty-seven: The homecoming.

Maldea walked out of the “Meow mix” at the end of a successful cleaning session. The main success had been the recovery of all of the mirrors fragments, all but the one sitting unnoticed in her bedroom. Once this was returned to Mika her quests would be done, Maldea’s mind turned to her reward, and her wet tongue explored her lips while savoring the possibilities.

Maldea realized her own excitement was getting to dangerous levels as she walked past the park bench, the girl who had been seated there writing a letter had dropped her pen and paper to the floor. She now sat with her long brown hair gravitating attractively over the back of the bench. Her long back was arched pushing her small breasts in to the air; one hand desperately kneaded an erecting nipple through her blouse while the other looted the contents of her pants through the open fly of her jeans. Softly Maldea swore to herself, she would have to be more restrained in public, or face Mika’s wrath.

Maldea controlled her desire, shutting it down instantly. The girl on the bench stopped her fumbling, and furtively tried to conceal her recent activities – which burnt brightly on her flushed and bemused face. There was an instant of eye contact between the two girls’; it was enough to tell Maldea that she was the fuel for the girl’s fantasy, and enough to tell the girl that her letter to her boyfriend would remain forever unwritten.

Maldea walked on leaving unsatisfied desire in her wake, the flowerbeds in the park slowly petered out as she approached the gateway to the street and passed through it on the way home.

Maldea cautiously slid in through the door unsure if her mamma would be home yet. She didn’t relish the idea of explaining her whereabouts’ last night and her reason for missing breakfast this morning. The subterfuge worked and soon she was in her room undetected, but the final fragment was nowhere to be found! Maldea rampaged through her belongings scattering cushions and bedclothes alike but to no avail someone had moved the fragment. Maldea realized to her horror that the trash was collected tomorrow, and flew downstairs to check the trashcans.

A long smelly and meticulous search of the trash revealed nothing, Maldea was just about to leave and return to the roost with her current finds when a familiar voice behind her chilled her to the core.

“Are you looking for this?” Maldea’s mamma’s curt voice inquired.

Maldea turned to see the small sliver of silver cupped in her mamma’s outstretched palm.

“Do you think I don’t know what it’s for?” Her mamma spat out the words.

Maldea hesitated, how could she know – had she followed her last night?

“I don’t know what you mean…” Maldea started to reply.

“It’s coke isn’t it those perverts have got you hooked on dope! That’s what this is a about the disappearances, the sneaking around, ISN’T IT!” Her mamma raged at her.

“No, you don’t understand…” Maldea’s reply was cut short by her mamma’s slap.

Mamma raised her hand to deliver a harder blow, but it never arrived. Maldea’s defense response was automatic and swift. The raised hand came to rest on Maldea’s left breast, and gripped it lightly. Maldea was so shocked that her eyes flew to her mamma’s, what they saw her mamma’s raw desire, mixed with deep confusion. Maldea’s mamma backed away the disbelief on her face still clearly displayed.

“I sorry, I don’t know what came over me Maldea, I feel so…” Mamma murmured as she stepped forwards to replace her hand on the warm soft mound.

Maldea felt the impact of the ultimate taboo as well, but her corrupted spirit relished the degradation. Maldea sighed as her nipple rose to mamma’s ministrations, gently she pushed her face towards mamma’s and brushed her lips against the one’s that usually chastised her. Maldea’s fingers traced their way up mamma’s body until they reached the cotton covered swell of the breast that once fed her. Maldea felt the springy nipple harden and swell against her caressing digits. Mamma’s breath became ragged as her daughters other hand swept her skirt aside to dip past the waistband of her pant and stroke the luxuriant hair that guarded her femininity. Together they slipped to the floor blind to anything but the incestuous passion they had discovered.

Since Mario had left mamma had been neglected as a lover. As her frustrated body lurched into its first orgasm for months, she responded by rewarding its giver with her quivering mouth. As her hands pulled back Maldea’s thin panties mamma’s lips closed around the near hairless pout of Maldea’s vulva. It seemed so natural, not wrong at all – she was merely repaying her talented lover in kind.

Lesley’s body danced to the rhythm of the whip, the pain carried the promise of even greater pleasure. Agnes struck ferociously, the sweat streaming down her contorted face in confirmation of her effort. She paused, raised her habit and dropped the hem on the other side of Lesley’s battered shoulders. Agnes’s face reflected the passion with which Lesley set about the task of tongue lashing her mistress. As Agnes’s eyes closed, she felt Mika’s lips on hers and raised her hands to Mika’s heaving breasts. Mika’s voice resounded in her mind.

“Enjoy the game Sister Agnes there is much work to do once it has ended – work vital to the survival of the darkness you now relish.”

Mika felt the lips crushing hers go into spasm, confirmation of The Mistress’s first climax of the many to come. Mika pulled her head back and laughed with glee, once the mirror was complete and in her hands nothing would hold her back. She would rule the world, and eventually the Wampyr. The megalomania slowly subsided as her passion rose. An unholy trinity joined and celebrated its creation in a sea of unbridled lust.

 

Chapter Twenty-eight: The circle of darkness

Agnes woke with a start, her confused mind struggled to cope with her unexpected surroundings; and then it flooded back to her. She recoiled from the dark memories; it must have been a sick nightmare, surely she could never behave in such a despicable way? But if it were a nightmare, how come she was still in this accursed house and not safely back in her quarters at the Convent? Agnes peered around the darkened cellar; she could make out a human form on the far side of the room. She screwed up her eyes and finally recognized Lesley’s bruised form, still glistening with sweat and secretions. Agnes coughed involuntarily, the stale air filled her lungs, and she could taste the strong tang of urine in her defiled mouth.

It had been her, she had been a debauched and evil torturer; tears of pure remorse broke loose from her sorrowful eyes and streamed down Agnes’s cheeks – she had to get away from here, away from the corruption Mika wielded.

She rose to leave, and moving as silently as possible Agnes made her way to the stairs to creep up the creaking flight of steps. Shaking with fear she grasped the door handle and slowly turned it, with a gentle click the door opened, she peered through the frame into the hall checking to the left and right. All seemed clear, just a few paces and she would be out of the door and on the way back to the Convent to summon assistance. She stepped forward into the hallway; however her steps took her farther away from the door! Although her mind directed her body it know longer responded. Seconds later she found herself standing in a small study, and without warning or prompting her own voice rang out.

“I am here to serve you Mika, what do you need of me.”

Mika turned and smiled a knowing smile.

“I’m so glad you decided not to run away, it would have been so painful – for us both,” Mika continued “I need you to use your arcane science to uncover a way to preserve the Wampyr.”

“Preserve from what?” Asked Agnes.

“Preserve us from the unknowing interference of man and his science,” replied Mika “Otherwise like the entire collection of non-conforming DNA’s ours will be eradicated, and we the mighty Wampyr will be cast out with the genetic defectives; those that the scientists wish to weed out from the human genome.”

“How can I help? I understand science – but this is far beyond my skills.” Agnes asked.

“Find the scientist’s working on this, identify them – that is all, the Wampyr will take care of the details.” Mika’s coldness was apparent.

“Kill them you mean?”

“No, we will introduce them to a more significant existence” Mika laughed.

Agnes’s laughter tinkled in response. Without further comment Agnes sat at the keyboard of Joyce’s PC and started to search to web for the unsuspecting converts.

As Agnes’s alter ego methodically noted the details of the most recent genetic research, her true self remained isolated and powerless. She could see the world but not influence it, hear the world but not speak to it; Sister Agnes could do nothing but watch the world slowly turn and dim, as the spark of her soul faded within the prison that was once her body.

Jeff felt the strong pull of attraction, it hit him hard, he must resist. He had resisted for endless hours, but the influence he sought to defeat grew ever stronger within him ‘Just one beer can’t hurt’ he thought as he headed off towards the pool hall ‘I can be back on duty in 20 minutes’ Jeff increased the length of his stride to speed his journey.

Jeff’s determined gait slowed and then stopped completely, he had to be dreaming! Walking towards him was the girl, and she was arm-in arm with her older sister.

A familiar heat rose from his loins, but he knew not to stare; that way led to insanity. Astutely Jeff sidestepped into a darkened doorway, hoping the linked beauties would not notice him. Jeff could feel his heart pound, as if it was in his throat, he could hear the steady thud of its rhythm perfectly timed to the girl’s steps. He moved back as the silent but seductive pair swept passed him, like the fairest of summer breezes. He was safe; wherever they were headed it was too important to be distracted. Jeff sighed and shuddered, as he felt the stickiness spread out from his wilting member he had the oddest of thoughts ‘I’m going to run out of laundry at this rate.’

Shaking himself from his trance Jeff set off to discreetly follow the succubi, from a safe distance. Although their presence hinted of summers bliss he knew some how that the chill of winter wasn’t too far away.

 

Chapter Twenty-nine: The circle closes.

Agnes was so adsorbed in her work she barely noticed Mika leave her side. The list was nearly complete, and the task looked relatively simple. Although hundreds of researchers were involved, there were only three or four major players, once the Wampyr controlled these the rest would follow like falling dominoes.

Agnes changed her search parameters and started on her own quest for enlightenment. ‘Google’ searched and coughed, the screen filled with the details of Convents in New York State. Agnes smiled, she decided at once; a new Unholy order was needed, and she would be its founder – its center of darkness. Agnes’s right hand guided the mouse gathering information on her flock; her left hand stole its way to the moist valley of wet flesh. The lips were parted and the skilled digits nimbly encouraged her clitoris from under its hood.

Mika beamed at the nonidentical twins adorning the doorstep. Maldea reached forwards to drop a package into Mika’s waiting hands. Without opening the package Mika knew it was complete; the power of the mirror outshone its container.

“You have done well little slut, the mirror and a recruit. Pray introduce us.”

“Mika, Mistress – this is my Mamma Christina,” Maldea spoke confidently.

“Welcome, I’m glad you could join us Christina, please come in,” Mika invited, not bothering to hide her pounding desire.

Mika led the small family towards the cellar door, just before descending she called out in a commanding voice.

“Agnes, come join our celebration, friends have arrived.”

Agnes emerged from the study and hurried to follow her Mistress’s voice, enthusiastically she ran down the steps. The front door swung invitingly in the evening breeze.

Jeff had a decision to make; he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Then like the hero he felt he should be – he did it. Standing in the deserted hall sweating profusely he felt oddly disappointed – it was just a house; not at all unlike his parent’s home. There were no blood splattered walls, no strange insignia or cult symbols; in short it was nothing like he had imagined. Jeff crept up to the half open door, and slowly peered around it into the void beyond.

The tidy study looked perfectly normal, if a little dark – the only illumination was provided by a dancing screensaver on the flickering monitor. Maybe the PC held some clues to the strange goings on he had witnessed. His eyes gulped in the information from the screen, as quickly as they could, dancing as they were between the doorway and the busy screen. Once again his hopes were dashed, it was just lists of Convents – nothing sinister at all. Maybe he should go to the doctors, he just had to be imagining all this stuff. In a flash he realized how it would appear if he were found here; a youth who had broken into a house full of religious women, his jeans generously caked with his own semen. This was not good, not good at all.

Jeff slid along the halls wall on the way back to the unlatched door and freedom. He was almost there when he heard it; unmistakable it was, the sound of someone walking towards him up creaking stairs. Jeff turned on his heels and fled away from the sound to the back of the house. Gently, silently, he shut the kitchen door behind him. How long he stood petrified in the cool, dark kitchen was impossible to judge. When he finally moved his body was stiff from inactivity, while plumes of condensed breath billowed out in front of him. He was certain that whoever had come up stairs had returned; it was finally time to escape.

He headed for the back door carefully avoiding all the furniture he could make out, so far, so good. Jeff then stepped on something unseen, and his ankle folded under him – just in time he got his hands forward to stop crashing painfully to the floor. Jeff panted, sighed, and went to push himself back to his feet. The rounded shape under his left hand felt oddly familiar, like a head!

Jeff bent down to examine the object and came eyeball to eye socket with a disembodied skull. Care immediately gave way to panic and he burst through the back door into the moonlit rear garden. Jeff’s eyes scoured the blue-cast landscape for inhuman assailants, to his great relief all was normal. All except; the large burn mark on the unkempt lawn. Jeff moved closer to look at the bare patch, ‘Why would you light a fire here?’ he thought idly. He kicked at the remains of the bonfire splitting the branches apart, ‘hang on, they’re not branches – they’re bones’ Jeff felt the hairs on his neck erect, uncharacteristically his genitals did the reverse, snuggling tight into his protective groin.

He was just about to make a run for it when he realized what a coward he was being – those poor women, the Nun and the sisters’ were trapped in the house. ‘It had to be a serial killer, a rapist!’ Jeff’s mind raced ‘Yep, it adds up – the bare titted biker, the naked women that had rushed fearfully back into the house.’ He had to go back, rescue them, save them from whatever was in the basement.

 

Chapter Thirty: Discovery!

Jeff stood in front of the cellar door; his head was cocked to one side as he listened intently. It was no good he could hear nothing – there was no indication of any activity. Feeling a little calmer he pushed lightly against the door, it swung open in cruel invitation. Nervously he entered the quiet stairwell, crouching low Jeff made his way down a few steps until he could view the entire room.

What a view it was – there were no fewer than five gorgeous naked women standing facing one another in a circle. At their feet was an unseen object; they all gazed at it trance like. Jeff found it hard to pull his hungry eyes away from ten pairs of rounded buttocks and breasts, but he managed; the maniac had to be around somewhere, all geared up for rape and mass murder. Try as he might he couldn’t see evidence of anyone else, it looked like it was just the six of them. ‘The maniac has to be one of them’ Jeff thought, now that changed things – he could just rush them, corner the culprit and save the others. He was ready, he felt sure of that. Jeff was wrong, what happened next came as a total surprise.

Jeff watched as a bright red light shot out of the floor among the cluster of bodies. Breasts and pubes, nipples and dimples were painted in a powerful crimson brush. The circle broke, and all but two of the acolytes stepped back. Jeff could now clearly see the source of illumination; a large mirror laid on the floor its surface shimmering like the very fires of hell.

“I Mika, use your life blood to summon our new disciples, Christina bare your neck and accept my kiss” the sound ricocheted around the confined space.

Silently with his jaw hanging open Jeff watched the spectacle unfold. Christina stepped forward, sweeping her long hair back to expose her virgin neck to Mika’s greedy gaze. Jeff could see the nipples tipping Christina’s plump breasts stiffen with desire, her stomach rippled with excitement; waiting for the delicious bite. Mika bent her head towards the pulsing arteries, and her succulent lips parted to reveal wicked canines. With graceful ease Mika’s fangs penetrated the willing flesh and suckled from the liquid life. Mika shouted her orgasm for all to hear as she ripped back her head, and fountaining Christina’s warm blood down onto the shinning mirror. A giant plume of red mist exploded into the cellar; spreading out octopus-like tentacles of living larva. The appendages reached out to touch each of the expectant acolytes. Having touched the naked flesh the fog spread web-like to trap each girl in its writhing silk.

The ensnared bodies boiled with unspoken lust, grinding against the passions of unseen lovers. An unearthly orgy gathered pace; each of the dancing marionettes rushing from one climatic release to the next. Waves of pure desire flowed out from the pool of the mirror, rippling around the room and lapping against the walls. Jeff was not immune; gush after gush of semen was ripped from his sore testicles and thrust up the column of his desire. He could hardly breathe for coming, all his senses hit overload – and stayed there. Much more of this and he would surely die. The process slowly reversed, carrying the raw sexual energy back to the flickering surface of the gluttonous mirror. The glare dimmed, then pulsed once before dissipating through the portal of the mirrors liquid glass.

Through bleary eyes Jeff observed the peaceful room, although only semi-conscious he became aware of activity. The other five occupants were not as spent as Jeff – they moved to the center of the room and formed a loose huddle. Within seconds the orgy began again; starving mouths met hungry slits, grasping hands encircled thrusting tits as a five way fuck began in earnest. Despite the raw pain Jeff’s ragged cock reared it’s head to applaud their efforts. Passion and power flowed into Jeff revitalizing him. Without any thought Jeff dashed down the remaining steps into the cellar and threw himself into the throng of writhing women. His trusty weapon was now well prepared for the fight.

 

Chapter Thirty-one: Mirror, mirror…

Herr Doctor Professor Hal Steinert, walked up the steps to the Institute chatting amiably to his director of finance Sylvie Dacor. His conversation was rudely interrupted in a most unfortunate way. Hal gaped as his favored postgraduate student ran up to him and announced in a clearly manic voice.

“Sorry, Herr Professor but I must interject – I really must…” Anna ejaculated the phrase.

If her words sounded strange, then her actions were – insane. Without pausing for breath Anna turned and kissed the shocked finance director, but this was not the polite European double cheek kiss. No, what Anna delivered was a passionate, open-mouthed, lip-numbing kiss. The audacity of Anna’s action was only matched by its inappropriate nature – Anna had never even been introduced to the influential Sylvie. The kiss over, Anna pulled herself abruptly away from the gasping administrator – and vaulted down the rest of the steps to vanish into the staff car park.

“I’m most dreadfully sorry, I cannot apologize enough,” Hal, stuttered “she has been under immense pressure recently, please excuse me – I feel I should care for my colleague.”

The professor moved with a speed that denied his bulk, in a few seconds he too had dashed into the car park. Sylvie was left alone – a picture of bemused lust; her neat blonde bun had unwound. Strands of almost platinum hair concealed most of her taut blouse covered bosom, but not all. Raised domes of cotton peaked provocatively through the shimmering curtain of hair; hard evidence of the erupting flesh. Hal would have relished the sight; platform nipples were one of his fetishes. He had confessed as much to Anna – as he had stroked hers during their recent lovemaking. Sylvie shuddered, and then swiftly made her way to the ladies room in the Institutes foyer. Once safely ensconced in a private cubicle the ice-maiden melted – acting for once, in a most unprofessional manner.

The professor skidded on the loose gravel in the car park, almost losing his footing. He recovered his balance, and his stressed senses just quickly enough to spy Anna – riding out of the car park on her putting Vespa. Hal fumbled for his keys and eventually slid behind the wheel of his BMW 523. Innocent bystander’s recoiled from the shower of stones that pelted them; the silver car flew from the car park in a frenzied pursuit of the scooter.

‘She has lost it – completely’ the panicked academic fretted, he couldn’t understand it – she seemed so controlled; just like all her predecessors. Why she should suddenly see their relationship as anything other than an enjoyable extension of her career path amazed him. He drove on ignoring the polite German driving conventions, and the stream of offended motorists. Gradually it became clear where she was headed, his part of town, his street – and his house. ‘Oh God above!’ his wife! Why had he invited her to the barbecue, she knew Margit – this must be stopped.

The beamer screeched to a halt opposite the neatly trimmed lawns that bordered his path. Anna’s Vespa lay discarded on the other side of the road at the curb, just short of his gateposts. Hal got out of his car and gazed, agonized as his front door opened and Margit welcomed Anna – he was dead! Anna then did an incredible thing; she kissed Margit just as she had kissed Sylvie. The women broke their impassioned embrace and were swallowed by the closing door as they slipped into the house. Hal was galvanized into action, he sprinted across the road; this he had to see!

Unfortunately he didn’t, time slowed; his life unfolded before him. His senses became so clear, he heard the squeal, he smelt the burning rubber, he saw the approaching fender, he felt the impact, and finally tasted the blood. He was indeed dead.

Macy McKechnie collated her latest results from the mainframe, smiled with satisfaction, and returned to her laboratory. Macy sat in front of the workstation and booted up the molecular modeling program, her spirits rose even higher. She, Macy McKechnie, from a Glasgow housing estate had made her first breakthrough; the PhD was as good as hers. Precisely what the mutation she had found did she was uncertain, but her probe hit it without fail, time, and time again. The demographics all stacked up – all these families had histories of premature death. A note to the Lancet and her future was as good as guaranteed.

Macy stood up and walked to the filing cabinet where she stored her old journals. She bent forward to hunt for her latest copy of the Lancet; an e-mail to the editor was completely in order. Behind her the screen of her workstation darkened to a deep crimson, and fingers of mist burnt their way through its swirling screen. The inquisitive tendrils reached out and slipped unseen up the crouching researchers skirt. Macy did not see the writhing smoke approach her, but she soon reacted to its delicate touch.

Her body convulsed as the vapor slid around and through the gusset of her panties. Her pretty face glazed, and small sounds burst through her twitching lips.

Her unobserved lover stroked the length of one fat tendril fluidly through the valley of Macy’s vulva. Covered with fresh desire the irresistible mist pulsed into her open vagina, filling her to the brink; pushing incessantly against her cervix. Macy howled her crisis into the gray metal of the filing cabinet, she came, and came, and changed. Exhausted, but gratified she slumped to the floor.

The laboratory door burst open, as a fearful technician rushed to investigate the scream.

“Macy, Macy, are you alright? What happened?

Macy opened her eyes and stared hungrily up at Alison.

“I’m fine, just fine,” answered a breathless Macy.

“Your eyes, did you get something in your eyes?” Alison inquired, “They are so bloodshot – was it acid?”

Macy just grinned, as she covertly watched the red mist re-emit itself from the bubbling surface of the monitor.

“Come closer, I need to whisper – too exhausted to speak.”

Alison bent forward bringing her as face close to Macy’s as she politely could. This gave Macy a grandstand view of Alison’s facial expression as the sinful vapor enslaved her. Alison’s face first registered concern, then surprise – followed closely by uncontrolled desire. Macy’s tongue mashed against Alison’s as her hands sought the slimmer girls breasts under the white lab coat. Together they designed a new, exciting experiment shedding their clothes just as rapidly as their unneeded morals.

 

Chapter Thirty-two: …on the floor…

“And so onto the main part of the presentation” Dr Braggart’s voice boomed across the lecture theaters PA system.

“This video details the work of my laboratory, and our hope for the eradication of genetic disorders – within the next 10 years,” Eloise Braggart paused for effect, then continued, “No more Mongolism, no more Cystic Fibrosis, an end to unnecessary suffering…”

“Many more abortions! Selective culling of the unborn! – Isn’t that suffering enough?” A lone strident voice bust out from a flame haired young woman.

“Ahem, colleagues – you may not have had the pleasure of meeting Pamela.”

Morris. Now Pam I think you would be so much more at home with the protestors, OUTSIDE!” Eloise spoke sternly, motioning to the closest security guard.

“Murderer, defiler of nature!” Pam screamed as she was dragged backwards towards the illuminated exit sign.

“To continue, an end to unnecessary suffering – and expenditure,” Dr Braggart smiled widely at the assembled politicians; they sure heard that last word.

Eloise stepped back to let the video underline the savings, it would run into billions; and the research grant would ensure the expansion of her personal empire and reputation. ‘It’s just a well us scientists are only interested in the well being of mankind, or this sort of thing could be misused’ the ironic thought cracked her smile into a full face grin.

Eloise edged her rear onto a convenient stool, her hand slipped down surreptitiously to scratch an annoying itch that had flared up. Her fingers caught at the seam of her tailored suit, the friction was quite delicious. She stopped the scratching immediately shocked at her sudden arousal. The thoughts wouldn’t be stopped as easily ‘I could orgasm in front of these pompous fools and they would be none the wiser’ a strong exhibitionist fantasy played across her mind.

She could see them all – Princes, Kings, Presidents and Premier’s obediently sitting, watching; while she performed – it was intoxicating.

Her finger pressed a little harder and the gentle, sly scratch started again. If she wiggled slightly the seam flicked across the bud of her hard clitoris – she was so close, so close. The video ended and Eloise reluctantly stopped mid-masturbation to walk back to the podium.

At her return the audience rippled into spontaneous applause, and her unruly clitoris pulsed against her damp gusset.

“Thank you, thank you, your response has been most…Ugh, ahhh! Satisfying.”

Eloise squirmed as her own crescendo matched that of the audience.

Eloise left the auditorium satisfied scientifically and sexually, today had been a good day; a day of discovery. Her mood fell as she left the venue – crowds of protestors surged forwards. Pam was to the fore as usual, screaming her abuse for all to hear. Eloise really did detest that stupid woman; she was nothing other than a self-publicist! Egged on by Pam’s chants the crowd moved forward and the police line gave way. With a sudden squeal Pam was jettisoned from the bosom of her admirers, and fell flat on her behind right in front of her arch-rival. Eloise’s response was as rapid as it was unexpected. In one swift movement she ran forward, thrusting her post climatic groin into Pam’s face. With a motion reminiscent of an erotic dancer she ground and bumped her wet crotch against the trapped nose and mouth.

The crowd fell silent, dumbstruck by the unexpected pornography acted out before them. Eloise bucked as her climax gripped her – then with as much serenity as she could muster she flicked her long dark hair back from her perspiring face and walked away to the waiting limousine.

“Are you O.K. love,” a kindly policeman asked, “what an unmitigated bitch!”

“Yes, she’s wicked, Umm – excuse me,” muttered a disorientated Pam.

Unsteadily Pam stood, and walked without hesitation or a single backward glance to the darkened window of the parked limo. The crowd held it’s collective breath in anticipation. But all hell did not break loose, the door of the limo simply opened; Pam simply stepped in and sat beside Eloise. The door shut and seconds later the limo beat a hasty retreat.

“Well I’ll be damned!” The young policeman whistled under his breath.

Along with several hundred others, gathered around him. He wasn’t, the crowd wasn’t, but Pam and Eloise were.

Jeff struggled for breath, he was in heaven, he was in hell; completely surrounded by nubile female flesh his libido soared on wings of ecstasy. On the other hand is lungs were bursting for air. At last he surfaced, poking his face above the slippery bodies and gulping down the heady, scented air for all he was worth. He thrust his staining knob deep into Maldea’s urgent body, savoring her tightness against his shaft. He had almost forgotten about his weapon, and his task – almost but not quite. His hands clenched against the familiar smooth surface of his pool cue. Carefully he selected his target and thrust with all his might. Unfortunately his oncoming orgasm made him a poor marksman, the cue tip missed Mika’s heaving chest and rammed instead against the basement floor – snapping instantly. Retribution was as fast as it was unwelcome; a strong hand grasped his neck. Jeff now hung limply from Mika’s outstretched arm while his dick, so rudely plucked from Maldea, spewed the last of his sperm liberally down Mika’s wobbling breasts. He saw his death etched in Mika’s eyes – once more he craved nothing more than oxygen. Then something remarkable happened, Mika returned him to his feet – patting his head as if he was some errant pet.

“You, boy will make an excellent consort. I am originally male and I now lust for my former sex,” Mika grinned savagely, “better still, I’ll create a she-male – a lover worthy of all my desires!”

Mika drew him close, and kissed Jeff hard – her pistoning lungs drew all the air from his weaker ones. Jeff crumpled, and laid unconscious at his mistress’s feet.

“Have you killed him?” Maldea asked her eyes full of concern.

“He only sleeps, waiting for me to transform him. Don’t worry little slut I will still let you play with it – as it pleases me,” Mika answered.

Maldea nodded, some of the color returned to her shocked cheeks.

“Let us rejoin the others slut, the night is young and my desire high,” as Mika spoke she slipped two fingers deeply into Maldea’s needy cunt.

Unobserved the orgy restarted, with its full compliment of players. The sexual energy fed the mirror, as gleaming with power it reflected their unnatural lusts.

 

Chapter Thirty-three: …who’s the fairest of them all…

Days had passed, travel arrangements been made and from around the globe the members selected for the inner scientific council traveled towards their Mecca – New York City. Nothing could stop them; nothing except and unanticipated female, ‘Julia’ she had torn through the Caribbean, made landfall at South Carolina, and rushed up the eastern seaboard. Although officially downgraded to a tropical storm she still grounded flights throughout the eastern US.

Raleigh International Airport was a mess, as one of the ‘hubs’ it now boasted thousands of stranded passengers. The local hotels were full to overflowing, and with many landslips rail & road services were ineffective.

“Well I suppose we’re in the same boat as everyone else, that’s some consolation,” Pam said while patiently queuing for the ladies room.

“It may console you, it merely annoys me intensely!” Eloise complained, “and I for one have had enough,” Eloise peered intensely at the back of the woman ahead of Pam in the queue.

“You can’t, we were told not to!” Pam warned nervously.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be discrete,” Eloise smiled a feral smile.

As if by magic queue started to thin out, women drifted away – some walked off more urgently to attend to… well something. Pam waltzed forward into the vacant spaces.

“Hey, that’s so cool Ellie, only five in front of us now!” Pam’s cheery demeanor vanished as soon as she saw Eloise’s expression, “Come on it’s only five, leave well alone Ellie.”

Eloise frowned deeply and looked daggers into the nearest girls back.The cool blonde just turned, gave a little wave and continued to wait.

“Who the hell are they,” asked Pam.

“Friends,” Eloise beamed, “just friends.”

Eventually the restroom spat out the uninitiated, and only the magnificent seven remained. They formed a tight circle and held hands.

“Eloise Braggart” said a smiling Ellie.

“Pamela Morris.”

“Margit Steinert.”

“Anna Klemp.”

“Sylvie Dacor.”

“Macy McKechnie.”

“Alison Blackhead.” Alison completed the swift circuit.

Eloise started undressing first, it was her first captive audience for a while and she relished the attention. Six pairs of appreciative eyes devoured each treasure, as it was uncovered. With Eloise it was the breasts that impressed, they were full, yet perky, delicately uplifted into perfectly sculpted globes. Pam reached out a hand toward their perfection. Only to have it rudely slapped away.

“Wait, it’s Margits turn,” Ellie commanded.

“Actually we come as a set” Margit’s laughter filled the room, “you will see what I mean.”

Margit gave the slightest of nods to Anna and Sylvie.

The three women shrugged off their tops to reveal six small breasts; the most succulent of nipples tipped each one. The areola was smooth and formed a slightly domed platform; a plump elongated nipple crowned the pink disc. Four pairs of eyes drank in the vision in front of them and widened, as the nipples grew ever more erect.

Pam smiled a private smile, Ellie may have met her match; Margit was not going to be pushed around – she clearly was a woman with an agenda all of her own. Pam felt her juices flow a little more freely.

Macy responded without any prompting at all, in seconds she was naked.

She stretched her legs widely apart, displaying the full lips of her shaven slit to the others. With practiced ease she slipped apart the thickened labia revealing the crown of her enlarged clitoris. The mushroom like button glistened in invitation.

“My specialty is a little different.” Alison spoke as she undressed.

Her body was perfectly balanced, smooth, hairless and tanned. Eloise swallowed hard ‘I want you – waiting on my pleasure’ she thought, and cruel delights flitted through her mind. Alison ignored Ellie’s hypnotic gaze, and moved to crouch between Macy’s spread thighs, her mouth a full six inches from the smooth gash. Without moving she extended her tongue and inserted an inch of it into Macy’s expectant opening. Macy bore down swallowing the impressive length of her friend’s muscular organ. The circle closed, the sighing began.

The restroom door swung open, and a female attendant walked in. The young black woman stopped dead in her tracks – her newly lit cigarette hung briefly on her bottom lip before falling unnoticed to the floor. Calmly she walked out of the restroom, and hung the ‘Closed for maintenance’ sign on the hook – quietly she returned to the restroom. ‘Time to get me some serious maintenance’ she thought as she hastily disrobed – rerouted from the mundane to the splendor of the orgy before her.

 

Chapter Thirty-four: Freedom is an oft-used word.

Maldea squirmed out from the pile of exhausted bodies, her breath still catching from her last cataclysmic orgasm. She stole across the floor to sit cross-legged by Jeff; Maldea stared down at his peaceful face. Was he really just sleeping? How would she feel about him after his transformation? Love was love wasn’t it – so it shouldn’t matter to her.

Love – how was this possible? Maldea had known him for such a short time, but his bravery, his mere presence thrilled her so.

“He can’t respond to your day-dreaming, slut,” Mika’s voice burst though Maldea’s reverie.

“I was just…” Maldea’s reply was cut rudely short.

“It is of no concern, service me” Mika stood with her legs wide apart thrusting her bare mound forward.

Maldea scrambled to her feet knowing that to keep Mika waiting would be unforgivable. Maldea busied her lips, sucking Mika’s hardening clit into her mouth and bathing it with her tongue. Almost without thought, Maldea’s left hand snaked down her stomach and parted her bruised lips to circle the tender and overworked bud that nestled within. If Maldea strained her eyes to the right, she could just see Jeff’s fetal form curled on the floor, a pulse of passion burst through her. Out of nowhere Maldea was sent sprawling by a vicious slap.

“You dare to take your attention away from your mistress. There are limits – even for a slut” Mika grinned, “You will join the roost – then you will know where your loyalties lie!”

Mika turned and prodded vigorously at the nearest body in the pile with her well-turned foot.

“Awaken, you have a new sister to welcome,” Mika snapped at the sleeping women.

Soon all were ready, Mika and Maldea stood next to the mirror closely observed by Christina, Agnes and Lesley. There was an air of sensual expectation, unrequited lust crackled through the low ceilinged basement.

Mika began to run her hands softly over Maldea’s bud-like breasts, thickening the expectant nipples. Arching her back luxuriantly Maldea bared the long sweep of her neck, and in a second Mika’s fingers were caressing it; tasting the life that beat so energetically the carotid artery. As Mika bent her face towards the girl, pure lust rose in four heaving bosoms.

In one bosom something other rose; Agnes felt pure hatred; her pupil was about to suffer the final humiliation – she must stop it! For long milliseconds Agnes did nothing, and then it all happened at once.

Agnes broke ranks and dashed towards the snapped pool cue. Mika swung around furious at the interruption to her initiation. The sharp point of the pool cue ferociously hurled by the former nun greeted her. The shot was entirely accurate; the wooden tip spliced through the intercostals muscle between Mika’s ribs and pierced the pericardium before slamming into the depths of Mika’s heart. Mika buckled in agony falling gracelessly to her knees. Her eyes shone deadly red as she grappled with the makeshift stake in her breast.

“You will suffer for this Agnes – for eternity,” Mika wheezed.

Agnes stood statue-like – her vampire self struck by the enormity of her traitorous act; within Agnes the good rejoiced. Mika’s power waned momentarily as she concentrated on saving her immortal soul from hell’s pit. Temporarily released Jeff immediately woke and seeing the situation sprang into action – he rushed Mika, slamming his full weight onto the protruding cue handle.

Mika erupted in a final scream of futility as the splintered cue burst through her back. Mika toppled backwards until she touched the mirrors grasping surface; it was as if a black hole had opened in her chest, her very being was ripped into the wound through her spasming body – and out to the hungry mirror. The process accelerated in a flurry of body parts and bones until all was consumed.

Maldea and Jeff were left standing in awe gazing at the still mirror and the bodies collapsed around it. Maldea rushed to Agnes’s side only to gape in horror at her decaying features, painfully Agnes spoke.

“Mika is free now as am I, and the others, go Maldea quickly – and never return to this cursed house,” the words hissed over cracked parchment lips.

“How can we save you? How can I save mamma?” Maldea asked the tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Nothing can save us, we are the damned – but at least I saved you, my pupil…” Agnes slumped in Maldea’s arms as her last breath rattled through her.

Jeff walked over to Maldea’s side and gently rested his hand on her bare shoulder.

“She was right, we should dress and leave – there is nothing here for either of us now.” Jeff suggested tenderly.

Maldea rose and buried her head in Jeff’s comforting shoulder as deep sobs wracked her small frame.

 

Chapter Thirty-five: Love conquers.

It had been a long and sullen walk back to Maldea’s empty home. Jeff cradled her all the way – but could find no words to comfort the shocked girl. As they approached the door Maldea stiffened.

“Jeff will you stay with me? I can’t do this alone,” she sighed.

Jeff made up his mind in an instant; making up his parents minds’ would take longer. Still the decision was made.

“Give me half an hour, I’ll get some things and be back – I promise!” Jeff replied with a half grin.

“Can I come with you? I don’t want to be alone,” asked Maldea.

Jeff could almost see the look of disapproval on his mothers face.

“It’s best if you don’t, I need to do this without a fuss,” Jeff suggested, “look wait in the Seven-Eleven, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“O.K, but don’t let me down.” Maldea said softly, her brow creasing.

Jeff placed a peck of a kiss on the frightened furrows.

“I’m here to look after you Maldea, I promise.”

They parted and Jeff scurried away, desperately thinking of how to break this news to his folks. The easiest way was the best – he wouldn’t tell them! After tonight Jeff felt more than capable of making his own decisions, and this one was final!

He strode confidently on whistling tunelessly. Then a tune came to mind, how did those first bars of the Buffy intro. go? Jeff the slayer, it had a ring to it. For the first time ever Jeff felt he had it all. He felt nine feet tall, he was sure if he jumped he’d float just like someone on a moonwalk. Was this just the adrenalin buzz? No this must be love; this was Maldea’s effect on him.

Maldea’s face split into a wide grin as a heavily laden but smiling Jeff staggered into the convenience store.

“You were quick – so your parents are alright with it?” Maldea asked.

“My parents were to busy arguing to notice, I hope we never get like that!” Jeff laughed.

Maldea said nothing; she just snuggled up to his body and relieved him of two substantial bags. Together they walked home. Days passed into weeks and together they stayed, Jeff got a job at the Seven-Eleven and Maldea carried on cleaning at the club. Jeff made Maldea’s life fun for the first time, and he was patient with her. He understood that their love needed to be platonic while Maldea recovered. They slept in the same bed, and shared the same shower, but Jeff never pushed Maldea on the physical side. He knew only too well what she had been through. She still regularly woke screaming in the early hours.

Maldea lay on the bed watching late night TV when Jeff arrived home.

“Hi love, I’m bushed – I hope you don’t mind if I crash out.” Jeff asked.

“No, I look forward to our night time talks, but you look shattered.

Just rest and I’ll cuddle you to sleep.” Maldea’s dark eyes smiled.

Minutes later Jeff was asleep, cosseted in Maldea’s soft arms. The TV increased in volume as a new girl band was introduced with much razzamatazz. Maldea reached for the remote to turn down the sound, but unused it fell from her hand.

“The newest phenomenon from the old world to take America by storm – I give you ‘LES BITCHES’ – extreme!”

Maldea watched in awe as the seven leather clad beauties burst into their opening number. The costumes showed more than nakedness could ever have done, accentuating every curve and hollow. Their body language was clear, strong and intensely sexual. Maldea felt her body respond to the memory of supple women against her.

‘This is wrong! I have Jeff – I don’t need this any more.’

Maldea screamed pushing the images as far away from her mind as she could. Jeff was awake in an instant, comforting her, holding her and soothing the terrors away. To his surprise Maldea slipped from him, and wriggled down the bed. Jeff jolted with delight as Maldea’s mouth closed around his limp penis. Tired or not, the weeks of patience told his body to respond with urgency, and he instantly stiffened. Jeff’s pounding glans pulsed against the back of Maldea’s tongue.

“Are you sure?” He asked incredulously.

Maldea replied by cupping his testicles and rotating her tongue around the root of his cock.

“Gooood answer!” he gasped.

Maldea drew him to full erection and then swung around; her smooth back filled his view as she straddled him. Her young body swallowed his full length in one fluid movement. Maldea bucked against him furiously, sliding his entire cocks length in and out of her trembling body. As Madlea watched the TV she brought both her hands down to her groin; her left hand pressed her tummy hard to push her mound forward – while the fingers of her right hand massaged her hard clitoris. Her eyes were wide and filled with female flesh as she ground her orgasm past its first peak, onto its second,and then a spectacular third. Jeff shouted his joy to the world as he exploded in Maldea’s grasping quim.

Minutes passed before either could speak.

“What brought that on?” Asked Jeff.

“I thought it might help you sleep!” giggled Maldea.

“You could be right,” Jeff laughed, “I love you stupid.”

“I love you too, dummy – now sleep!” Maldea chuckled.

As Jeff snoozed, Maldea allowed the smallest of tears to trickle down her cheeks.

 

Chapter Thirty-six: Life’s a bitch.

Central Station was pandemonium itself. Normally a Friday night would be busy, but tonight it was madness. Reporters, TV crews and Fans added to the normal commuter crush. One word rang out through the normally spacious station.

“BITCHES.”

“BITCHES.”

“BITCHES.”

The sound peaked as seven leather-clad women appeared from the platform. Expectant microphones erected and thrust towards the scantily clad septuplets.

“Mike Jones NBC, welcome to the Big Apple ladies,” a reporter barked.

“We’re no ladies, boy,” came back a sassy reply.

“Ralph Toombes ABC News, is it true that you are all lesbians?”

“Les Bitches, the ‘Les’ part is French for ‘the’ – understand – The Bitches. It doesn’t mean we’re lesbians – Jerk.” The tallest member of the troupe turned on Ralph.

“No but I heard you were anyways.” Ralph joked uncomfortably.

Ralph suddenly went pale, the reason for his change in demeanor sat in the crushing palm of the smallest singer in Les Bitches. Her hand gripped tightly onto the grey material surrounding Ralph’s fly.

“Enough questions – understood?” She asked in a steely voice.

“Sure – no more from me!” Ralph replied in an squeakier tone.

With no more ado the girls swept out of the hall to the waiting stretched limo, and an unknown destination.

Jolene busied herself cleaning the kitchen, she always got nervous at time like this – it was silly really, she just knew everything was prepared. Still Manda was a problem, as younger sisters went she was fine, but prone to selfishness.

“Manda, what are you doing in that bathroom? Our guests will be here soon I want you ready to meet them,” Jolene called.

“Nearly done!” Manda’s voice sang in reply.

Manda was quite accurate in her response, a few more on target gushes from the faucet onto her upturned pussy and she would be done. Manda gazed down her body past her small hard tipped breasts to her spread black legs and the triangle of pink held wide open by the force of the water. Her excitement rose, and she quivered as her orgasm ripped up her body in warm waves.

God knows why, but ever since they’d moved into this house she had needed to come several times a day. Manda thought and then smiled, she had learnt to masturbate here – hadn’t she? That was right; she had never done it before the move. It had been the first night – when she spied on Jolene pleasuring herself, and looking in the mirror.

“Aren’t you ever coming out of there?” Called an exasperated Jolene.

“It’s your fault it takes me so long!” Cried Manda.

Jolene walked away from the bathroom door shaking her head, ‘how the hell can it be my fault?’

Two hours later Jolene sat nervously watching Manda, trying to fathom the change in her younger sister.

‘I guess she’s just maturing – moving to New York, having her own room. I’ll have to start watching out for the boys – soon.’

The doorbell shattered Jolene’s reflection; primed for action she leapt to her feet and headed for the front door. Jolene opened the door, the seven stood posed on the houses’ steps.

“Welcome Eloise, welcome all – come in!” Jolene invited.

Manda looked up, her appearance changed from that of feigned interest – into one of astonished excitement.

“They’re Les Bitches – we’ve been getting this house ready for LES BITCHES!” Manda squealed.

“That’s right, Manda – and now we will be their housekeepers.” Jolene smiled broadly.

“That is so cool, way more cool than cleaning some dumb airport. Jolene you are the best – where did you meet them?” Manda demanded

“Cleaning at some dumb airport.” Jolene laughed.

“Wait, wait I’ve got a Bitches T-shirt, will you sign it for me – please!” Manda asked.

“Hey, where are your manners girl, let them rest!” Jolene scolded.

“It’s no problem, anything for a fan,” Anna giggled.

“That so cool – you are my favorite, I’ll get it from my room.” Manda screamed.

“I’ll come with you – I’d like to see your room.” Anna smiled, holding out her hand.

“Now don’t be too long,” Eloise suggested with a sly wink towards Anna, “we have a lot to see to.”

In a flash of enthusiasm and camaraderie Anna and Manda disappeared through the living room door.

“Is the room prepared” Eloise asked, all pretence of stardom vanishing instantly.

“It is,” replied Jolene.

“Let us assemble and wait for Anna then we will know – we will finally know!”

Anna gazed admiringly at the posters adorning the walls, every carefully positioned one with an image of her and her six friends staring seductively from it.

“So you don’t care what they say about us?” Anna asked.

“No why should I? They’re nerds!” Manda replied.

“They say we’re lesbians.” Anna stated.

“So what’s wrong with that? Why should I care?” Manda quizzed.

“Oh nothing, nothing – Manda would you do something for me?” Asked Anna.

“Anything!” Manda said earnestly.

“Put on our tee-shirt – I would like to see you in it, please,” asked Anna.

“Sure, one sec.” Manda bubbled.

Manda turned her back on Anna and rummaged through the pile of tee shirts on her dresser. Once she found the black and silver one she slipped her sweatshirt over her head. As Manda reached fully up to slide the tee shirt over her dark hair she felt Anna’s warm hands cup her breasts. Smoothly the fingers slid to the upturned tips. Manda went weak at the knees, and Anna moved closer – rubbing her leather-sheathed nipples in small circles on Manda’s back.

“Do you want to know what lesbians do?” Anna asked in a voice full of promise.

“Yes…” Manda stuttered.

Anna flicked the bedroom door closed with her heel.

 

Chapter Thirty-seven: A new bandleader.

Jeff walked into the house with the Chinese takeaways’ steaming in two full brown paper bags.

“Maldea, food! I’m home – food – get it while it’s hot!” Jeff shouted upstairs.

Delicate footsteps rushed down the ancient stairwell, and Maldea appeared, concern written on her face.

“We can’t afford luxuries – you know that!” She chided.

“We can now, you are looking at the new manager of the Seven-Eleven – Rusty quit today” Jeff positively beamed.

Jeff just had time to deposit the bags on the kitchen table before Maldea threw herself into his arms. Her lips found his and warmed his soul. A full breathless minute passed before the couple surfaced from their embrace.

“Now eat,” said Jeff.

The two of them tucked in to their first substantial meal for days, and all too soon the feast was done. Maldea surveyed Jeff across the narrow table; her foot strayed to his lap – prodding at his manhood. Maldea grinned and shifted a little in her seat. Jeff could see that she was hitching up her skirt. Maldea smiled parting her lips in invitation.

“Now eat,” said Maldea, “get it while it’s hot.”

Jeff moved around the table to stare at Maldea’s long slender legs topped by her waiting quim glistening in anticipation. Jeff’s tongue probed past the soft lips seeking out the pearl of Maldea’s clitoris.

Jeff’s senses filled with Maldea’s exotic musk and he swallowed hard, thirsty for yet more. The tip of Jeff’s nose polished the bare skin of her hairless mound as his tongue worshiped her swollen bud. Maldea came softly pulsing warm fluid to bathe Jeff’s trembling chin. Jeff stood, and without wiping his face picked Maldea up with practiced ease. Effortlessly he carried her to the bedroom.

In another room, eight women stand, seven are naked one is not. The clothed woman holds a knife between her hands – on the floor between her and the nude congregation sits an ancient mirror. She takes the knife and slits the front of her maids blouse baring her ample breasts. She then passes the knife to the woman directly opposite her.

“If it is you then take me – Jolene – as your eternal slave.”

Eloise grips the knife between her hands, and parts them to show – nothing. Eloise shrinks visibly in ego and passes the blade to her right. Pamela briefly holds the artifact – again no effect, Pamela smiles. In turn she passes the blade on. Sylvie holds the knife calmly, half expecting a sign – but there is none. The blade moves to the next set of hands. They clasp the artifact and open to reveal dual burn marks deeply inset into each hand.

“It is Margit,” gasps Eloise.

Margit says nothing, but instead extends her hands to Jolene’s darkly inviting breasts. Jolene shudders, and a dark stain appears on the lap of her skirt – soon the liquid gushes to form a yellow steaming pool between her legs. Jolene collapses silently to the damp floor beneath her.

“We begin,” states Margit.

As the orgy of transformation slithers to its height the mirror begins to glow a dull red. Jeff awakes with a jolt, and looks around the bedroom for an intruder. Someone uninvited is here, but Jeff’s despite long and careful scrutiny of the room – no one appears.

‘Stupid dream.’ Jeff rolls to face Maldea; her wide-open eyes stare at him – hued with a cold red light.

Maldea speaks calmly – Maldea speaks confidently. “Jeff we have to go back.”

 

THE END