Vampires of Miami: Vampires of the World

by Geoffrey Knight

  “You’re perfect,” Xavier whispered. “And yet, so flawed. Like a diamond with a crack in it.” He spread his fingers wide, pawing Jaxon’s warm mound of chest flesh, brushing hard against the tight bud of his nipple, as though he was trying to draw out Jaxon’s very soul. “I can fix that. But first I need to ask: how open is your mind?”

  A nervous shudder shot through Jaxon, who was uncertain of what Xavier meant. “I’m standing naked in the mansion of a man I don’t know, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by naked guys. Yes, my mind is—”

  Jaxon’s hand finished his sentence for him. Feeling dangerously curious, unable to help himself, he slowly reached down and began lightly stroking Xavier’s cock, balling the head of it with his thumb, cupping his huge, firm testicles tightly in his grip.

  “You wanna fuck me?” Jaxon breathed. He had no money, no job, but he liked the feeling of Xavier’s dick in his fist. His own cock was hard and so was his body, and ever since the woman on the highway had offered him cash for sex, the thought of fucking someone for a few quick bucks seemed less and less sinful, and more and more like an easy, practical, adventurous solution to his financial woes.

  “You want me to perform for you?” he asked Xavier now. “I’m up for that. What are you, anyway—some kind of movie producer?”

  Xavier smiled at the comment and shook his head. “No,” he simply replied. “I’m a vampire.”

  With a creased, concerned brow, Jaxon stared at Xavier for a long moment. Then suddenly he started laughing, like the last person in the room to get a joke. “Yeah, right.”

  Xavier raised his eyebrows, slightly amused but not revoking his comment.

  Jaxon laughed again, squeezing the shaft of Xavier’s cock even harder now. “Okay then, so you like it kinky. I’m a new man. I’m willing to learn.”

  “Learn what?”

  “Just about anything.” Jaxon grinned. “What can you teach me?”

  “I can teach you how to take a life, and I can teach you how to save one,” Xavier said matter-of-factly. “I can teach you how to tear a man’s throat out and rip his body into a dozen pieces. I can teach you how to drain someone of their blood, and not spill a single drop. I can teach you how to vanish. I can teach you how to heal.”

  Slowly, the grin disappeared from Jaxon’s face. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Am I?” Xavier sighed. The smart ones always took so much more convincing. “Your name is Jaxon Stuart Cain. Doctor Stuart Cain is your father, a revered surgeon who is determined to make you every bit the success story he is. The pressure of this was beginning to get to you, not to mention the arrogant one-upmanship of your fellow classmates, and the endless nagging of a superficial girlfriend you don’t love who simply wants to live the wealthy life of a doctor’s wife. In fact, you’re not even sure you like girls at all.” Xavier glanced down and smiled at Jaxon’s firm grip on his cock, a grip that seemed to unwittingly tighten as if to confirm Xavier’s suspicions. “Then one night your confidence, your hope, your entire world seemed to crumble around you. It was the night in the alley.”

  “You don’t know jackshit about me.” Jaxon squeezed harder. In his fist, Xavier’s cock was almost at the bursting point, the coiled veins bulging like ropes, the head the size of a plum so ripe, it was about to split.

  “On the contrary.” Xavier grimaced, then smiled. “I know everything.”

  “That’s right, you’re a vampire. If that’s the case, why don’t you go for my throat right now?”

  “Because I want you to choose your own fate. Die tonight, or live forever.”

  “Seems like an easy decision to me,” Jaxon said, still refusing to treat the conversation as anything but a joke. “Do I get to live in a mansion, too?”

  “Anywhere you like. Paris, Rome, Rio—there are lairs such as this one all over the world. I once lived in Transylvania, but hundreds of years ago we were forced to flee our home, driven out and dispersed by the original vampire hunter, Professor Abraham Van Helsing. Have you read Dracula?”

  “I think I’ve seen one of the old black-and-white movies.”

  “The character of Dracula himself is fiction, but the mythology is more or less real. Unfortunately, all those stories paint us in a very bad light. Like all species, there is both goodness and evil within our kind. What sets us apart, however, are our extraordinary powers.”

  “To suck the life out of men?” Jaxon asked boldly.

  “That is one of them, yes. So is the power to communicate with other species. The power to see beneath the flesh. The power to heal. The power to live forever.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  Impatiently, Xavier suddenly reared up, his naked body seeming to increase in size and mass. The muscles in his chest and stomach flexed and bulged. His biceps knotted. He raised his hands and twisted them into claws, bearing down on Jaxon. His erect cock became even more engorged, hungry to devour its prey.

  But the one thing that scared Jaxon the most was the fangs.

  Like those of a snake, they folded down quickly from the roof of Xavier’s mouth. He opened his jaws wide and let out a terrifying hiss, the two-inch-long, needle-sharp fangs slippery with saliva, and glinting in the light.

  In a panicked scramble, Jaxon tried to push himself away from Xavier but only succeeded in tipping his chair over and crashing to the floor.

  Instantly he tried to pick himself up, but Xavier’s fist suddenly had him by the ankle.

  With ease he slid Jaxon back across the floor, then lifted him up by the throat. Jaxon’s feet left the floor, kicking, trying to touch the ground.

  With a grand sweep of his powerful arm, Xavier sent the dishes and wine flying off the table and into the air. Herodotus roared and thundered across the floor in a frenzy, catching and devouring the roasted meats with a smack of his jaws.

  At the same time, Xavier slammed his naked young dinner guest flat on his back onto the table, pinning him down with one hand still clutched around Jaxon’s neck. The young man was strong, but not strong enough to pry Xavier’s hand off his throat, no matter how hard his fingers tried; nor was he strong enough to kick his way free, no matter how much his legs thrashed.

  “I thought you said it was my choice! Die tonight, or live forever!” Jaxon spluttered, almost at choking point before screaming, “I don’t wanna die! I don’t want to die!”

  Xavier backed away a little, easing his grip only slightly. The vampire host took a breath, and seemed to compose himself. His large chest stopped heaving, and his breathing returned to normal; his bulging muscles jittered, and settled back down; his fangs slowly retreated into the roof of his mouth. Only the erection remained, his shaft still bursting and straining under the pressure of the silver cock ring.

  Then slowly, the mighty Xavier released Jaxon from his grip. He stood staring at the naked young man lying on the table, then smiled, still panting. “Very well. Your choice is made.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jaxon asked, eyes wide and alert, full of fear and anticipation, somehow hungry for more dominance, more danger, yet afraid of what was to come. Never in his life had he felt such contradicting emotions, so many embattled feelings.

  Xavier took another deep breath. “I’m going to let you experience more pleasure and pain than you’ve ever known before. And through it, you will discover your purpose.”

  Jaxon moved to sit up, unsure of what Xavier wanted him to do. But Xavier quickly made his intentions clear. He pressed his wide hand flat against Jaxon’s rigid abdomen. There was so much strength in that hand, so much energy, that Jaxon felt the nerves in his solar plexus yield, and melt beneath Xavier’s touch.

  He lay flat on his back on the table, a burning candelabra dripping wax just behind his head. He caught sight of the flickering flames at the periphery of his vision.

  He felt Xavier’s other hand brush up his legs with tender strokes, sweeping through the light hair on his shins, lingering over his thighs, massaging the muscles there before
both hands slid between Jaxon’s legs, moving teasingly toward his balls, which crawled and throbbed impatiently, longing to be touched and rubbed and squeezed.

  He did not have to wait long.

  With a firm, almost painful grip, Xavier snatched Jaxon’s ballsack, and began kneading and tugging it.

  “Oh, fuck,” Jaxon groaned, staring up at the vaulted ceiling and the flickering candles, eyes watering at the sudden pummeling of his balls.

  “Does it hurt?” Xavier asked in a low, almost menacing voice.

  Jaxon responded with another groan. “Yes.”

  “Good,” Xavier whispered. “Pain is a journey. One step, then another.”

  He reached beyond Jaxon, then grabbed the candelabra off the table with his right hand. Red molten wax spilled from the three burning candles, and splashed on the tabletop. At the same time, Xavier’s left hand gave Jaxon’s balls one last squeeze, then felt its way up to the long shaft of his cock, now lying flat and stiff and straight against the young men’s abdomen.

  As Xavier began to stroke Jaxon’s dick, he held the flaming candles over Jaxon’s chest.

  “What are you gonna do with that?”

  Xavier gave him a domineering grin. “I have to hurt you to heal you.”

  Before Jaxon could move, Xavier tipped the candelabra at a slight angle. It was enough to send a cascade of molten wax pouring onto his chest and left nipple.

  Jaxon clamped his eyes shut, and let out a roar of pain. He tried to move, but Xavier had him by the cock, his fist tightening around Jaxon’s shaft, controlling the blood flow, forcing the head to expand into a giant purple ball ready to explode.

  “It’s alright,” Xavier urged him. “Let the veil of your fear, your disillusionment, slip away.”

  With teeth clenched, Jaxon looked down over his aroused, agonized body. He saw his cock bulging in Xavier’s grip. He saw the wax hardening on his burning chest, a huge blob drying solid on his searing nipple. He watched Xavier move farther down his torso, the candelabra now hovering over his heaving stomach.

  The vampire tipped the candles as though drizzling a measure of wine sauce onto a perfectly realized gourmet meal, sealing in the flavors.

  The rivers of red splattered onto Jaxon’s skin, and made his six-pack stomach spasm violently. Another cry escaped him, and his arms shot out on either side, his fingers digging into the edges of the table, holding on as tight as he could.

  Still locked in Xavier’s grip, his cock became more and more engorged, longing for release in every possible way.

  “I wanna come,” Jaxon grunted through gritted teeth. “Make me come. Please, just make me come.”

  Xavier’s grin hadn’t left his face. “Not yet.”

  As a sweat broke out on Jaxon’s frantic, furrowed brow, Xavier positioned the dripping candelabra over the young man’s stiff, swollen cock. He lingered there a moment, torturing Jaxon with inaction, waiting for him to say something. To beg for mercy.

  Instead, Jaxon’s nostrils flared with determination, and he looked Xavier in the eye. “Do it. I want you to do it.”

  But Xavier waited a moment longer. He waited for the pools of boiling wax gathered around the flickering wicks to reach maximum capacity of the candelabra. When the rings were full to the brim, he poured the molten liquid.

  This time Jaxon refused to scream, instead spraying spit and pain through his clenched teeth. The wax splashed down the length of his yearning, burning cock, covering the pulsing veins, and completely enveloping the distended head. Steam plumed, but within seconds the running wax began to dry, entombing Jaxon’s cock in a hard, red coat.

  Excruciatingly, the slit of his cock was sealed shut.

  A tear of sheer agony slid down the side of Jaxon’s face, leaving a single streak from his eye to his temple, but apart from his short, sharp, staggered breath, he did not make a sound.

  With his own hand covered in spattered wax, Xavier finally released Jaxon’s shaft.

  He walked around to the end of the table and stood between Jaxon’s two splayed legs. He slapped his own giant, stiff cock onto the table like a piece of meat, then leaned his head forward, his tongue sliding its way up Jaxon’s leg, nibbling at the sparse hairs on his inner thigh, tasting the sweat that had been gathering between his legs, before finally taunting his swollen balls with his wet, tantalizing touch.

  Xavier’s tongue licked and lapped at the sweet sack for what felt like an eternity before his large lips wrapped completely around Jaxon’s testicles, and sucked them both at once into his warm, juicy mouth.

  Jaxon caught his breath as his balls were once again rolled and pummeled, this time by Xavier’s pitiless tongue as it tumbled and tossed the young man’s balls around inside his mouth.

  At the same time, Jaxon felt an eruption building up inside.

  He dug his fingers deeper into the sides of the table, his nails scratching at the wood.

  His hips began to rise, aching to set free the fire that raged in his loins.

  The wax mask concealing his cock began to crack and splinter up the shaft, while the covering around his cock’s bulging head began to break like the peak of a volcano about to blow.

  “Oh, fuck!” Jaxon cried. “I’m gonna come! I’m gonna—”

  He was so close he couldn’t even finish his sentence. He shut his eyes tightly, and felt the charge in his testicles. He felt the blast tearing up his shaft. Then he felt something else…

  …Something needle-sharp puncturing his sack, sinking deep, deep into his balls.

  Jaxon screamed.

  The hardened wax around the head of his cock suddenly exploded as a jet of cum shot into the air, followed by another and another, looping and splashing up his tensed gut, his clenched chest, onto his grimacing face.

  But all Jaxon could feel was the inferno in his impaled balls as Xavier’s fangs filled them with his fire.

  “Fuck!” Jaxon cried, opening his eyes in time to see Xavier raise his head from between Jaxon’s legs, his smile framed by two bleeding fangs.

  With lightning speed, Jaxon launched himself off the table, grabbing the candelabra in one fist and clutching his balls in the other, backing up fast to put the table between him and Xavier. “Jesus Christ, you bit me! You bit me on the fucking balls!”

  “I gave you a gift,” Xavier said, taking a step toward him.

  “Don’t come near me! Don’t you fucking come near me, or I’ll burn this whole damn place to the ground.”

  Jaxon took a step to the left, away from Xavier, but was stopped by a low, guttural growl near his feet. Herodotus’s thick tail swept the floor, threatening to propel the alligator toward Jaxon at any second, jaws open wide.

  “Herodotus, no,” Xavier commanded.

  Jaxon’s eyes shot from the alligator to Xavier, but he didn’t wait around to ask why the vampire had ordered his loyal pet to back down. Instead, Jaxon caught sight of the door and made a break for it, leaping onto a chair, over the table, and out of the room.

  Candelabra in hand, he bolted down a corridor. He expected Xavier to follow him, but with one or two glances behind him, Jaxon saw no sign of the vampire.

  Frantically he charged out into the vestibule, where naked men continued to fuck and the quartet played on. Nobody looked twice at him. Nobody seemed at all concerned. As though they all knew he’d be back.

  Only the curious bats in the chandelier turned their heads at Jaxon Cain’s hurried escape, as if their blind eyes could see.

  Chapter Seven

  His feet sank into the mud, and the black bayou water splashed up around his shins, his thighs. The light from the candle flames, trying desperately to stay alive as he dashed through the night air, illuminated his glistening naked body, wet with sweat, painted with cracked red wax and spattered with cum that slipped down his tanned torso.

  The lights of the house were long gone.

  The full moon cast a strange blue glow through the bayou, shadowed by long branches and dripping vines.


  The sounds of men fucking and champagne corks popping had quickly faded away, leaving nothing but the sound of his panicked breathing, of frogs chirping and water slushing madly around him as he waded through it, trying to find a way out.

  He had no idea where he was going.

  No idea how far the bayou stretched.

  If he was lucky, he might stumble across a road in the next few feet, or he could be staggering through the swamp for the next three days. That is, if he survived that long.

  Suddenly, he heard a swoosh of water in the darkness behind him.

  Jaxon stopped dead, thigh-deep in the swamp, moss-covered bayou branches sinking into the marsh all around him. He turned quickly—too quickly—and dropped the candelabra, the flames hissing as they hit the water. In the light of the moon, he caught a glimpse of a large reptilian tail with two ridges of craggy scales running down its length. It slid through the water before disappearing beneath the surface, leaving small eddies of swirls and currents.

  Another splash in the water off to his left was enough to make him realize things were about to get a whole lot worse.

  Panic-stricken, Jaxon began to run as fast as he could, churning through the swampy waters with all his strength and speed.

  Suddenly the waters turned into a storm all around him, a frenzy of whipping tails and thrashing bodies, and the heads of a dozen or more alligators snapping and chomping through the bayou, all headed straight for him, coming from all directions.

  Jaxon’s legs pumped. His bursting, fear-filled eyes caught sight of a small, muddy island ahead, covered by the twisted roots of a tree that stretched high into the night sky. He knew alligators couldn’t climb—he’d be safe if only he could make it to that tree.

  The hungry alligators powered through the water on all sides, jaws chomping, eyes rolling back in their heads, ready for the kill. Jaxon crashed through the swamp, the island and tree only a few feet away, now. The waters became more and more shallow with every step.