by Gina Kincade
Julia’s heart fluttered and she wished she did. She wished she could stay the night. Couldn’t she? They could move her to her bed downstairs when she fell asleep. “Will someone wake me at five so I have time to change?” She began reaching behind her to undo her dress, but Nicholas was already there, growling against her skin as he revealed it, kissing his way down her back. “I’m sure I can have some fun.”
There were no masters here, no submissives. They assured Julia the play could go that way whenever someone desired it, but tonight was all about mutual pleasure.
Nicholas repeated his previous attentions while her hands were free to fondle him. He preferred it that way. He also stole a nip when the others were involved in each other.
“Don’t tell,” he whispered. “I just won’t get enough of you if you do plan to change so soon. Wait for me?” he asked, his breath moving in her ear, making her shiver and her hair stand on end.
“Oh, you might convince me,” she murmured, turning to kiss him.
While she was in Nicholas’ arms, she felt a tingling in her butt.
“What?” She turned to see Jocelyn licking her, the saliva tingling on her abraded skin.
“Too painful?” she asked, green eyes wide.
Julia smiled. “No.”
“Good. You haven’t reapplied that awful ointment. Really, Harry, could you have found more foul-tasting stuff?”
Julia giggled at the cool tongue teasing her. Nicholas chuckled too, and then gasped as she took hold of him again.
“Slide up,” Julia told him, lowering her mouth.
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, but only shifted around, snagging one of Lynn’s arms and pulling her slightly from Harry to kiss.
Julia tangled limbs with all of them, finding the women’s legs just as lovely to wrap around as the men’s. It was much easier to simply lie with them than be ordered to pleasure them. They didn’t mind her reluctance here. They didn’t urge her, and they were more than happy with her kisses. She turned her nose up once at Jocelyn. “You smell like...”
“Like you,” she said with a smile. “You smell like Nicholas, and I’ll have you know, he isn’t my favorite flavor.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he rolled over her pulling her into his lap. She squealed but didn’t fight his hold. Instead, she was soon gasping at his touch and leaning into it. “Yes... right there.”
Julia found herself back with Harry. “You aren’t too jealous, I hope? I know they all wanted their turn with you first. I have been keeping you all to myself for a while. Nick!” he roared. “I told you not to bite her!”
Julia giggled. “Stop, it was barely a scratch, just a taste. Don’t you want the same?” she asked, running her tongue along his teeth.
A rumble came from his chest as he bit down on her tongue. She closed her eyes as the pleasure grew quickly, her wound in his mouth. He had only done this once before and she remembered how heavenly it felt.
“Harry,” she breathed. “Master.”
He put a finger to her lips. “No more.”
She shook her head. “Not for now. I will be Mistress for a while, but I love what you do to me. I will want that again.” She started to straddle him before pain flashed through her and resultant tearing reminded her she couldn’t indulge that way.
“Lie back,” he suggested.
“Mmm, yes, lie back,” Lynn said, her lap right where Julia’s head landed. She giggled at Julia’s sour expression. “Oh, I only want to watch your face. Perhaps take a taste of my own.” She leaned over Julia’s head as Harry’s disappeared between her legs. Lynn took Julia’s lower lip in between her teeth and scored it very lightly. She sucked on wound and lip, moaning as Julia closed her teeth over Lynn's.
Chapter Six: Harry
“Are you sure?” Julia asked with a slight hesitation prominent in her voice.
Harry stopped in the process of disrobing. He turned to her. They weren’t in the large room upstairs. That wouldn’t do for this exchange. Instead, they were in the room Julia had used every weekend she came here. Sophia, the most experienced, sat in a corner, their silent observer.
She closed her eyes before speaking again. She thought about the dog she’d had when she was little, how well he obeyed certain commands and how poorly he followed others. She was like that dog, quick to obey the simple, quick to forget the complex.
“Finish,” she said, and brought her cane down on Harry’s deltoid. He bowed his head and released the cuffs that held his shirt on. His broad chest bore scars similar to hers. They were fainter due to the process that made him a vampire, but they were obviously bite marks. She traced a few before taking his hands in hers.
“I trust you,” he whispered. “Mistress.”
She closed her eyes and took strength from his willing submission. “Kneel,” she commanded.
He obeyed, smiling up at her. She still held his hands and now secured each in a metal shackle. She kissed him and then began to pull the links through the loops set in the wall. Holding the free end of one, she secured it to the mirror shackle she attached to his ankle. Repeating on the other side, she paused again to kiss him between. Finally she turned and walked to Sophia. A knife lay on the table beside her.
“Does it matter where I cut?” she asked quickly, feeling foolish for not having asked before. It had seemed obvious she would need the knife, as her teeth weren’t likely to break his skin.
“No,” Sophia whispered in reply. “You’re doing fine.”
Julia took a deep breath and steeled herself. She could do this. He had offered and she would take. Turning, she brought the cane down against his abdomen. Harry flung his head back as he hissed at the pain. When he lifted his head again, his amber eyes seemed alight.
“More,” he told her.
She brought the cane down again–on his ribs, on his pecs, on his shoulder. She paused between each to let him catch his breath and level his eyes at her, but he didn’t have to ask for more; she could tell when his eyes softened that he’d had enough.
She leaned down and kissed him again. She bit her own tongue hard and he hummed at the taste of her blood. It might not be as pleasurable as his saliva was to her, but she hoped it was something. Biting her lip, she laid the knife to the side of his throat, low on the collarbone. She hoped it would bleed enough but not too quickly.
Julia hadn’t eaten today. The reasons were twofold. So she wouldn’t have anything to vomit if she did, and so she could ingest as much of the blood as possible. Closing her mouth on his wound, she prepared for the acrid iron tang she associated with her own blood.
She didn’t find it.
His blood was thick but slightly sweet. Oddly, it didn’t taste much of iron at all. She pulled away briefly and saw the flow wasn’t the bright red hers was, but pink, almost milky. It made her think of strawberry ice cream, melting and rolling down his skin.
“Don’t stop,” Sophia reminded her.
“No, just... so different.” Harry met her gaze and smiled at her, tipping his head away from the wound, inviting her to drink.
She kissed his cheek quickly, and tangled her fingers in his dark locks before sucking from the wound again. He tensed; she could feel it in the muscles under his mouth. She didn’t stop, pulling harder, swallowing when her mouth filled.
“Ah,” he cried out as the pain grew. Julia tightened her hold and continued to drink, feeling tears prick her eyes. Had he ever cried when pressing her? She tried to remember. Not tears, but she had seen looks of pain from him in mirror. He always wiped them away quickly.
She drank until his wincing turned into a full scream and then pulled her mouth away, letting him see her tears for a moment before hardening her expression.
“You can take more,” she told him. She reached down and stroked him, distracting him from his pain. “But first, I want to drink something else from you.”
Sophia started to rise, but Julia flashed her a look over her shoulder. She wasn’t done. She would go back and drin
k more. Surely, she had time for this.
Lying almost on her belly, she took him in her mouth, wrapping her tongue around him, teasing back his foreskin. She pumped her hand on him before lowering her lips deeper over him. She repeated until her nose was in his pubic hair and he was rattling the chains for another reason.
“Fuck, Julia,” he cried out.
She bit him. It was meant as a punishment for not calling her mistress, but she was shocked when his blood filled her mouth again.
“Ahhhg!” he cried in pain, just before he erupted as well. Julia swallowed quickly, one fluid replacing the other and then the first again. She sucked hard until the wound closed. She licked her lips as she backed up, lifting her eyes to Harry’s. He panted, sweat beading his brow. “Mistress. Please.”
She couldn’t stop. He had to endure more. Still, she would try to blend the pain and pleasure as he had so often done for her. She climbed astride his hips, rubbing herself along him until he stiffened again. His eyes widened in shock. She clung to him with one hand, reaching behind her for the knife. When she couldn’t reach it, she buried her face in his neck and bit again, trying to bite deep and hard, her teeth jarring with the force.
Harry screamed again and pulled against his chains. He didn’t seem to be trying to escape though, only to hold her. She rocked herself on him as she drank, swallowing mouthful after mouthful.
His screaming didn’t stop, but she felt a climax growing inside her and wondered if he had any pleasure. She stopped drinking to ride more vigorously and got her answer.
“Yes, Julia. Fuck, that’s so good. God, I hurt. Fuck me, Mistress.” She felt him start to throb and placed her mouth back on the wound at his neck, biting to open it again. He screamed louder as she did and came at the same time. Her tears were lost in his hair, but his fell on her neck, seeming to burn her.
She drank and cried until his cries quieted. She stopped, pulling back. Sophia was there, touching her shoulder.
“Perfect. How full do you feel?”
As Julia rose, she realized how her belly sloshed and she held a hand to her mouth to fight spewing the blood she needed to digest. “Very,” she murmured.
“I am going to tie you now, only so you don’t hurt yourself.”
Sophia tied Julia’s wrists together on her belly and her ankles to separate bedposts. Then she went to unchain Harry who was breathing shallowly.
“Harry?” Julia cried, begging him to answer. Sophia wouldn’t have let her take too much.
“Yes, Mistress,” he murmured, and then managed a very small smile. “I will be here when you wake. Probably right here,” he jested, curling up on the floor. Sophia chuckled and brought him pillows and a blanket.
“If you’re sure,” she said, shaking her head.
“We’ll all be here, Julia. Though none of us likes to watch, we will all be here at sunset. I will stay.” Sophia returned to her seat, her jaw tight as she steeled herself for what would come next.
Julia didn’t feel anything aside from being very full and slightly nauseous. There wasn’t any great pain. She didn’t seem to be dying. Slowly, over an hour, she noticed she lost feeling in her extremities. She tried to wiggle her fingers. Then it came quickly, first one stabbing pain in her middle, then one through her chest, another at the base of her skull. She jerked with each one, trying to curl herself up, only to flinch as the next came. Then it happened just as Harry had told her. Her stomach, no longer full, seemed to wrench and twist. She felt the desperate need to empty herself and worried she might wet and soil the bed. It was a valid concern and both followed quickly. She had no mind for shame as she arched up, her chest heaving, her ribs spreading and nearly cracking. She could see her breasts separate and wondered that her skin didn’t split open.
In a great burst of blinding-white pain she collapsed back to the bed, panting, only she wasn’t getting breath. She heaved harder, dragging the air into her. Against her own strangled breath, she heard a sob. It sounded like Sophia. Julia put her hands to her chest, trying to claw, but unable to do much with them tied together. She tried to pull at her nose and face. She probably would have scraped herself raw if she hadn’t been secured. She thrashed, trying to find air, and would have fallen from the bed if not for her ankles. Instead, she hung precariously over the side, her vision filled with the quietly weeping Harry who held himself against his own pain as well as hers. It was the last thing she saw as her vision blurred and then went black.
Chapter Seven: Justin
Julia woke to familiar faces. She also felt a hunger greater than she could imagine.
“Here.” Jocelyn handed her a looking glass. She knew what Julia would want as much as feeding that moment.
Julia examined herself. Her grey hair had grown! Now she had several white streaks instead of simple strands. She thought she would cry, but several hands came and brushed the strands out, contrasting them with the shining maple color of the rest. It was pretty in its way. And her eyes shone like amber, just like Harry’s. She met his gaze and he smiled, seeming to know what she was thinking.
“Come,” Will said, pulling her to her feet. “Justin is waiting for you.”
Julia sighed in relief. “Wait, he knows that I’m...”
“No,” Will admitted. “I didn’t know how to tell him without offering the same. I’m not sure he would be right for this life, and I happen to know he has a son.”
“Oh,” Julia replied. A gleam came to her eye. “I think I can work with that.” She brushed her hair with her fingers and picked up the knife she had used on Harry the night before. “You’re not coming?” she asked, turning to Will.
“No. You know his safe word. He will use it before you kill him. And if not, he will die as he wishes.” Will’s smile was bittersweet, as though he expected the latter.
“Raspberry,” Julia murmured, more to remind herself than for any other reason. She strode to the door and walked two doors down to the right. She opened it to find Justin, naked, on his knees, facing away from the door.
“Rise,” she commanded.
Justin obeyed, turning as well. “Mistress,” he murmured, a sly smile on his lips.
“You think I’m not?” she asked.
“Contacts?” he asked, brushing her hair from her face.
She knocked his hand away forcefully and turned to look for something to beat him with. She found Will’s stropping leather. Grasping the hide belt tightly in her fist, she cracked it against Justin's outer thigh.
He shuddered and grew hard. “Apologies, Mistress.” All smugness was gone from him.
“Accepted. I am not going to bind you. I expect you to control yourself.” Harry did this with her occasionally. Much harder than not using her safe word was not impeding his blows. “You will have two chances to restrain yourself before I restrain you.”
Using her new speed, she brought the knife from behind her back to his throat, the same place she had cut Harry. Justin’s eyes widened and he hardened further. His mouth tried to form words, but no sound came out. She had truly taken him by surprise.
Drawing the blade down his collarbone, she rose slightly on her toes to suckle at the blood that oozed out. She was careful not to lick the wound, only suck on it. His arms came to her hips, holding her closer.
His breath came more quickly, and she ran a hand over his shaft, covering it in his fluid. She opened another wound across a pectoral, narrowly missing the nipple. Sidestepping, she let the blood run before lapping at it this time and even ran her hand through it, spreading it lower.
“Fuck,” he grunted, and pulled her tight to his hip, his ejaculate spraying past her.
She didn’t release him, but opened another wound on the other side, rubbing his tip across her belly as she shifted. He whimpered and twitched in her hand.
“They told me to prepare, but that you would be my Mistress,” he said between heaving breaths. “I didn’t understand. You’re one of them now, aren’t you?”
Julia stopped
flicking a tongue over his nipple and stepped back, surprised.
“Those aren’t contacts,” he said.
“No,” she admitted.
“Then bite me,” he pleaded, his hands coming up her sides, pulling her closer again. “Let me feel it.”
“No,” she said, opening another gash on his side.
He cried out, but only gripped her more tightly. He didn’t stop her as she waited for the blood to flow and then began licking it away. Her hunger begged her to relent, to bite him, but she was more than an animal. She knew what would please him most–pain.
She slashed his inner thigh and sucked from that wound, hot blood pumping into her mouth. She had gone too deep. She did lick at the cut this time, praying for it to close, even though it meant her fountain would shut off. It began to seal slowly, and she sighed in relief.
Fighting herself, she rose and set the knife down, taking up the strap again. Aiming for the marks she had made, she beat Justin. He raised a hand to block the fifth blow and she set the strap down again.
“One.” She dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth.
He grunted at the sudden change, his hands closing in her hair. She considered doing to him what she had to Harry. She would need to be much more careful.
As he swelled in her mouth, she closed her teeth on him and looked up.
There it was, the beautiful expression that tied pain and pleasure into one. He flooded her mouth with both fluids and she drank, closing her eyes at the pleasure it gave her. She turned to the other thigh and bit again, needing more.
Justin braced himself on her shoulders until finally he croaked, “Rasp... berry.”
Julia stopped, instantly, and grabbed at him as he collapsed. He was so pale, so white. How much had she taken? Too much?
The door opened and Will was at her side, his skin emphasizing the pallor of Justin. Will licked the wound closed, and held a hand over it. He smiled at her.
