Disappointed, Ignatio returned to the manor after he ordered his groom to walk Thor for exercise and then to see him groomed. Perhaps tomorrow the animal would be in a better temper. Ignatio ventured into town, the people there cast him strange glances where as before they were friendly and open. He wondered about that change too. He had the midday meal at the tavern and listened to the gossip.
One of the local ladies of the evening had entertained a gentleman from the tavern and both had been attacked by something during the night and no one knew what. Both had awakened two days later with bite marks on their necks. Ignatio laughed to himself at the ridiculous tale, which was followed by a similar tale of a shepherd that had been found dead early this very morning with similar bite marks on his neck, not one drop of blood was left in the man’s body. The sheep were all there, herded together by the shepherd’s dogs, but none of them would go near the body. With the mood of the tavern heavy on Ignatio’s mind, he paid the waitress and left. He made several purchases, visited his accountants, and headed back to his home.
Ignatio wondered at the suspicious glances people were casting his way. Certainly, he thought, they couldn’t blame me for these strange occurrences. He shrugged and his thoughts turned to Lady Leslie and the gifts he had bought for her.
Count Ignatio would arrive soon for dinner, and the housekeeper sent the young upstairs maid Tara, to awaken Lady Leslie prior to his arrival. Tara was young—seeing only eighteen summers. Tara climbed the main stairs with nervous trepidation. A full arm of towels and bed-sheets covered her left arm. She knocked lightly on the door and waited for what seemed like an hour. She knocked again, still no answer! Dubious, she reached for the door handle with a trembling hand; afraid to knock again, she started to open the private door. Just as she started to twist the handle, a rough, tanned, male hand covered her delicate white one. It took all her strength not to scream.
“And why would you be going into Lady Leslie’s room while she sleeps?” The driver’s voice was rough with a thick Slavic accent, his handsome, rugged face inches from her delicate pale one.
“I, ah, was told…” she stammered, “to bring these up and…” her voice shook, “and leave them, even if Lady Leslie didn’t answer.” To Tara it seemed like he studied her for five minutes.
With sudden movements, the driver opened the door took the linens and placed them in a chair close by the door and quietly closed the portal. His intense gray eyes bored into the petite maid’s. “Your instructions have been taken care of,” he said in the same quiet tone, his deep gray eyes holding her wide blue ones.
“Ah, thank you,” Tara whispered, turned and hurried way, then the hairs on her neck bristled, turning she found the hall empty. Where did he go she asked herself, and where did he come from? The latter being the more important question. On this floor, in this wing of the manor, there were only two doors and she knew neither had opened or closed since she had been up here, except when the linens were placed in Lady Leslie’s room. Frightened, Tara ran down the stairs. Katrina, the housekeeper was waiting on her.
“What did you see in her room? Was Lady Leslie awake?” Katrina asked.
After ten minutes and a glass of sherry, Tara had calmed down enough to tell Katrina what had happened. In that time one of the boys who worked around the manor came running in with the news the Count’s coach had been spotted coming.
Marko met him at the door. “How was your trip into town milord?”
“A bit strange Marko, have you heard the gossip about the odd occurrences?”
“You refer to the harlot and the drunk’s bite marks? Then of course, the poor shepherd?” Marko asked.
“Yes! For some reason the town’s people seem a bit standoffish, is there any reason they would think I should have something to do with these bizarre events?” The Count asked with a half-laugh.
“No, your lordship, the people are peasants and superstitious.” Marko assured him.
“Is Lady Leslie up?” The Count asked after a pause.
“Not as yet, milord.”
“I shall wake her, it is possible she has another–ah, migraine,” the Count said and started up the stairs.
Leslie was awake and had been when the maid had knocked. Most of her days were spent in seclusion. She needed little rest, but had to avoid the purity of direct sunlight; it would burn her to death. She hoped someday that a way would be found to move freely in the daylight. Stretched out on a low table for Carloff to massage her lithe body, a knock came at her door. Leslie drew on a long, lacy, dressing robe as Carloff backed out of sight into the shadows of her large room.
“Leslie, are you awake?” It was Ignatio.
“Yes I am, but my head is trying to hurt again so I stayed in the darkness of my room.
“May I come in?” Ignatio asked.
“Of course,” Leslie told him straightening her long hair.
He opened the door, but only enough to enter, and closed it quickly. Several candles burned low. Ignatio took her in his arms and held her close, kissing her temples then her eyes through her body, enflaming her sex and wetting her blonde cunt hairs. Leslie looked at Ignatio, arousal clear in her eyes. This is one I might stay with for a time, she thought. He wasn’t really handsome but he wasn’t unattractive either. Leslie stared temptingly up into his eyes. He certainly is a good lover, if a bit on the demanding side, she thought, but he did things that made her climax, as she never had in her long life. Remembering him forcing her to stimulate herself caused her face to turn red and she grinned, a glow in her eyes.
“What are you thinking, Leslie, that your face turns scarlet?” Ignatio asked quietly, but demandingly, his eyes intense.
“Only…ah…when you…ah…made me…” her face burned, “touch my self.”
“Did you not enjoy that?” Ignatio kissed each finger of her hand.
“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you enjoy what I did?” Her free hand stroked his penis through his pants.
“Yes, it was very pleasurable, Leslie. I have heard of the practices of the East.” Ignatio said. “Now I see they are as satisfying as they are acclaimed.” Ignatio took her in his arms and held her for a time. Leslie felt comfortable and safe in his arms, an unusual feeling for a vampire. Tonight she would give him the gift. She wondered if he would love her for it, or hate her. It had happened once, that a man had hated her for her gift, and she remembered it all too well. He had been a highly principled man, so good looking, kind, and generous. Yet he had failed to consider immortality a gift and had railed at her. He had called her names such as a whore, a demon, the wife of Satan. Leslie had explained that he did not have to kill humans to feed. He had threatened to tie her to a tree and leave her until the sun came up. Leslie had left him. The last she had heard he had sat on a high cliff and waited for his last sunrise. Tonight she would find out how her Count would react; soon now, for the sun was setting. It had rained earlier, but now the air smelled clean and the moon would be full, a perfect night for such a beginning. Leslie slipped her arms around Ignatio’s neck and kissed him.
“Can you come down for dinner, Leslie?” The Count asked.
“When?” she asked.
“Oh in about an hour I would imagine,” Ignatio told her.
“I should be okay by then if the headache doesn’t return,” she smiled.
“I shall go and prepare then. Just one other thing,” Ignatio smiled. “I want you to marry me, Leslie.” From his breast pocket, he withdrew a small box with a large blood ruby red ring nestled in black satin. “Will you?”
Leslie smiled, “Yes, Ignatio, I will.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him heatedly. All this time Carloff watched; Leslie wondered what he was thinking.
“You have made me very happy,” Ignatio told her. Smiling, he placed the ring on her left ring-finger.
“Let us wait until tomorrow to tell the staff.” Leslie said with a beguiling smile.
“As you wish, Leslie,” Ignatio would deny her nothing and
she knew it. “I must go and change now.” He left to go to his own rooms.
Yes, Leslie thought, I will stay with this one for a time. Marriage with a vampire was an unheard of union. Since their lifespan was on the range of immortality, the term “till death do us part” just didn’t apply. But Leslie could consider a long relationship with her Count during the 1800’s it could be quite comfortable.
A short time later, Ignatio accompanied Leslie to dinner. Over the years, Lady Leslie had become an expert at appearing to eat and had managed to deceive Ignatio, but after tonight it would no longer matter. Already the changes in him had begun. She noticed that Ignatio had ordered his roast beef very rare this evening. When she had arrived at the manor, he had eaten his meat well done. After dinner, they walked in the light of the full moon. A howl from a wolf split the quiet of the night. Leslie stifled her desire to join the animal in his song. A dark cloud blew over the full moon followed quickly by several more.
“Come, my love,” the Count said, “the night grows cooler and the clouds are returning. Even the wolf knows when to call his pack in.”
Leslie saw more evidence of his transformation in his affinity with the wolf and she knew the change would be easy for him. He would be a great and powerful vampire. She slid her arms around his neck pulling his lips to hers.
“One more kiss in the moonlight before we go in,” she smiled provocatively. Their lips touched, her tongue boldly sucked his as she had the head of his cock before. His arms tightened and as the first raindrops began to fall, they didn’t feel them until the gale pelted them full force. Laughing they ran in doors.
Marko was waiting with large warm linen wraps to ward off a chill and a board covered with sweet brown bread and cheese, accompanied by a decanter of warm wine as a light repast.
“Oh, thank you, Marko.” They wrapped themselves in the linen. “Would you leave the rest in my chambers?”
“Of course, milord,” Marko mounted the grand staircase and returned a few moments later, “your bath also awaits milord. Shall I have Lady Leslie’s prepared?”
“I will see to the Lady.” The Count smiled.
“As you will, milord,” Marko excused himself trying to keep the smile from his lips.
Leslie was more than excited this night but maintained a calm demeanor. Tonight her Count would receive what, to her, was the greatest gift she could ever give to another. Leslie would only give such a gift to one she cared for. Hand-in-hand they retired to Ignatio’s chambers.
After her Count closed and locked their bedroom door, Leslie kissed him and with a seductive look in her eyes slowly and gracefully peeled off her clothing. With a sultry laugh, she knew she had his full attention. While he removed his wet jacket and pants, his eyes were on her constantly.
“Ignatio, would you undo my buttons?” Leslie began by turning about, so he could unbutton the daring black gown she had worn. She stepped away and let the satin garment slowly slip from her shoulders. This evening she had worn an exceptionally lacy, black chemise that fit her body snuggly. Unlacing the strings, she stepped from the underskirt and stood before him in a black silk camisole and pantaloons. Slowly, Leslie walked toward him, pulling the clips from her hair, allowing the long blonde tresses to fall around her, and came to a stop before him, then encircled his neck with her milk-white arms. Her breasts pressed against his half-unbuttoned silk shirt, his dark chest hairs poking through to tease her sensitive skin. Ignatio kissed her neck and Leslie felt him hesitate where her pulse was rapid, his lips pressed against her pulsating flow of blood. His lips on her pulse brought back the vivid memory from deep inside Leslie of the brutal night she was changed. She shivered and pushed the thought away, it wasn’t a pleasant thought, and her Master at that time had not been gentle with her.
“Does that feel inviting?” Leslie asked him. Leslie’s voice had taken on a hypnotic low, sultry tone as she felt her control over Ignatio grow.
“Yes,” he answered with an equally low moan. Ignatio’s head was reeling he could almost smell her blood coursing through her veins. It was a heady smell; one he found sexually arousing. Ignatio’s lips touched the place where her pulse was the strongest and he sucked a little on her silken skin, almost expecting a taste of her life’s fluid and licked her reddened flesh, feeling a bit dizzy.
Leslie knew the signs of change and they were going on inside him quickly, after one bite more, they would rapidly complete. With his breath hot on her neck and her own legs growing weak, she turned to look into his eyes. Ignatio wet his lips with his tongue, his eyes predatory and on fire with a new passion that he did not yet understand. She briefly kissed his lips then slowly glided away. Subtly aware that her slow movements teased his desires, Leslie tugged at the satin ribbon that loosened the bodice of her camisole letting it fall from her shoulders. Her breasts were aroused, their nipples standing rigid. Lady Leslie stood proudly before the Count, her heavy, long, blonde hair covering her otherwise bare breasts to revel in the desire she saw in his eyes.
“Leslie, you are exquisite.” Ignatio told her, his erection confirming her sexuality affecting him.
“My lord is generous.” She glowed proudly, noting the hoarseness of his voice and the golden amber of his eyes. She sauntered up to him and with her cool delicate hands, began removing his clothes, caressing his erection through the silk of his undergarments; and kissing his chest with a nip here and there, as she did.
Leslie knelt before him, kissed his thighs, flat stomach, and looked up at him while she removed his undergarments. Lovingly, she rained kisses on his erect penis and looked up at him again, smiling coyly. Without hesitation, but with eagerness, she took him lovingly into her mouth. He placed a gentle hand on her head. His legs threatened to buckle from the sensations she sent surging through him with her strong suction on his erection. Never had he experienced such pleasure and he drew his breath in raspy gasps of air.
“Leslie,” he said in a husky voice, “to bed my love, where we both may pleasure the other.” Ignatio raised Leslie to her feet and took her by the hand, to draw her to his bed.
They stretched out, each raining kisses and love nips on the other’s body. Leslie soon resumed her previous actions, her need of him more than simple sex. Taking him deeper into her mouth, until she knew he was close to his orgasm. Now for the gift, my love, she thought.
Leslie subtly smoothed her hand over his body and caressed her own sex with her slender fingers, where his mouth had pleasured her, to draw some of her love’s nectar. With her warm, wet hand, she replaced her skilled mouth, as her Count was ready to spend his life’s seed, and sank her fangs deep into the artery that runs through the groin for the second time. She continued the smooth, erotic rhythm with her gentle wet hand on his heated, engorged cock and slipped her fangs into Ignatio’s groin with the gentleness of a lover who had taken a beloved virgin’s maidenhead. Ignatio, wrapped in the ecstasy of the most spectacular climax he had ever experienced, uttered a cry of pain mixed with rapture as Leslie drew his life from him. Leslie sheathed her fangs, careful not to draw the last of his blood. She replaced her hand with her mouth, covering his cock to receive his ejaculation, so as not to waist one drop of his precious honey.
“Leslie, what have you done?” he asked. Ignatio’s voice was full of passion, desire, and astonishment, yet weak, as he lay on the verge of death.
“I have given you a gift. I have made you immortal, my love.” Leslie said and with her own fangs she pierced her wrist and lovingly placed it to his lips. “Drink, my love, so that you do not die.” Bewildered, Ignatio did as she instructed, as he was suddenly compelled to do, he sucked. As he did, his strength returned and the roar in his head subsided. Lady Leslie again kissed his still aroused cock, her sweet mouth wrapped around his staff and sucked, pulling her arm from him, lest Ignatio drain her.
He grabbed a handful of her blonde hair to stop her. Ignatio rolled on top of her, looking intensely at her. Many emotions ran through him, but he knew how he wo
uld deal with her. Before, he had enjoyed being a little commanding and restraining with his lovers, his Alexis had enjoyed such play as fun. Now, though, Ignatio could feel himself in command of many new powers and in union with the powers of the universe. He smiled down at Leslie, a smile that sent fear straight through her and brought with it a terrible chill. Pushing a knee between her legs, he entered her body savagely, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle any outcry, but none came.
“So you’ve given me a gift!” He laughed victoriously, savoring the feel of the powers now at his command. Her triumphant smile as he drove his steel hard dick into her hot, wet, and swollen cunt, served only to incense the void left inside his humanity that was screaming with rage at the loss of his soul. Leslie’s eyes were half-open with ecstasy while her vagina tensed around his organ, pulling him back in as he drew it from her body only to again bury his cock to the hilt. Leslie cried out groaning, whether from pleasure or pain Ignatio found he didn’t care. Onward he drove Leslie and she intertwined her legs around his hips. Ignatio moved so that she was more open to him allowing him further entrance.
Leslie feared he would split her he spread her so far. “No! Oh I can’t again.” Leslie was sobbing in her climax as Ignatio was just beginning his.
“Yes, more!” Ignatio commanded. His eyes burned into hers, his thrusts became more intense, more demanding until Ignatio roared out his release. “You are mine, Leslie, no on else’s ever–I will not permit it,” he told her. “Remember that! For this gift you’ve given me, you will not leave me and you will do as I tell you, especially in bed!”
“I knew you would be a great and powerful vampire.” Leslie told him breathlessly several silent minutes later. His words haunted her in a frightening manner.
Gift of the Nightflyer Page 4
