by RWK Clark
“You are distracted, lover,” said Miranda once their door was closed and tightly secured. “Would you like to talk it out, or would you prefer to ‘work’ it out.”
DeSai snapped to attention, and he looked over at the woman seated on the bed. She wore only a bra and panties, and she was freshening her skin with a touch of perfume. He thought again of the reporter; in the looks department this woman didn’t hold a candle to her. He would be satisfied to use her body, however.
He stood and removed his jacket, and then set his attention on unknotting his tie. He kept his eyes on Miranda, who had a sex-filled smile on her face. “You know, darling that I prefer to ‘work’ everything out. I have never been much of a talker.”
He came and stood before her, bare-chested. She began to kiss his muscled stomach, her eyes closed and her face filled with lust and passion. He watched her go to work on him, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down to his feet, along with his boxers. Soon she had him in her mouth, and it felt like magic.
But hers was not the head he wanted to see bobbing up and down on him. He closed his eyes and imagined the head to be that of a distant red-headed reporter. Suddenly his erection grew rock-hard, and Miranda moaned at his physical response.
Cyril allowed the slave to continue pleasuring him with her tongue and mouth, but the scent she commonly wore filled his nostrils. Before, he had found this alluring; now it was nothing more than an annoyance. It interfered with the picture he had in his head of the red-head from the press conference. It was not her scent.
Indeed, he had not been close enough to her to pick up much of anything, and his senses were in a jumble because of all the other people who had been in the room, but this smell was exclusive to Miranda in his mind. He turned to the right and dimmed the lamp on the nightstand; maybe that would help a bit, but he doubted it. He could still clearly see Miranda’s two-toned hair in the dark.
Finally he gave up and decided to keep his eyes closed tightly. He tangled her hair in his fingers and forced her head down on him, then he yanked it back. She didn’t gag, but she did moan louder. With his left he reached down and grabbed her breast, squeezing it roughly through her bra. This turned her on even more.
She pulled away from him and shed the rest of her underclothes from her body. She then lay back on the bed, her elbows supporting her weight. She spread her legs wide, her black pubic hair only a shadow in the dim light. He opened his eyes to gaze at her, but he kept his eyes off her face. He didn’t want to be with Miranda, so in his mind he was not.
He touched her between her legs, softly at first. She continued to look at his face, but he kept his eyes firmly on what he was doing. In his mind, this was Rasia, and he wanted it to stay that way.
“Look at me, Master,” said Miranda. The sound of her voice infuriated him, and angrily he thrust his fingers inside of her.
“Do not speak!” His voice growled. She instantly became still, a small whimper the last noise she willing made. He continued with his hand until he was overwhelmed with an angry lust he could not contain. He lowered himself to the floor and knelt before her, then he proceeded to grasp her thighs and yank her body toward him. He buried his face between her legs and feasted on her as she writhed and moaned in pained pleasure, her hands on his head pulling him to her.
This went on for over an hour, until she had climaxed too many times to count. He was tiring of this, and mounted her. With a sharp thrust he was inside of her, his hands on her hips, driving himself deeper and deeper into her. He then pulled out and flipped her over, lifting her rear into the air, and he entered her again, hard.
She nearly cried out, but bit down on the blanket, which was bunched up in her fists. She enjoyed a bit of pain, and he liked that, but he was genuinely hurting her flesh. If he knew this it would be the end of her. She let him have his way, and finally he came and collapsed beside her on the bed.
Miranda lay still next to him, her eyes glued to the digital clock on the nightstand. It was four in the morning. She shifted her gaze to the window, and she saw that the sun was just starting to turn the sky a rich, deep blue. Morning was coming.
“Master…” Miranda spoke softly. He did not respond; he was sleeping now. She rose and walked a pained walk into the bathroom, where she gently closed the door and turned on the light. She looked down and saw her own blood dripping down her legs.
It was time for her to go and work with the others to bring the new ones home. She would not endure this again. She quietly cleaned up and packed her things in the darkness. Within the hour she was in a cab headed to a hotel near the airport. She knew her new instincts would guide her; she would be fine as one of the slaves.
∞
Cyril DeSai sat having a late breakfast of fruit, bacon, and pancakes on the terrace outside his room. The sun was bright, but he had adapted to that long ago. Contrary to popular fiction, vampires could endure sunlight, they just had to train themselves to take it properly. It barely bothered him at all.
There was a knock on the door of his room.
“Enter,” he responded with authority. The door opened and Martin Lamb stood there, suited up and ready for business.
“Good morning, sir. I hope your night brought you the rest you desired,” he began.
DeSai smiled and nodded. “Come in, come in. Have a bite with me.”
Lamb closed the door and crossed the room to the sliding doors leading to the patio. He took a seat at the table with the newly sworn-in United States President and began placing various pieces of fruit on the plate before him. He then busied himself with pouring a cup of coffee and adding cream and sugar.
DeSai considered asking the assistant if he knew where Miranda went off to, but in a fraction of a second he decided against it; it didn’t matter. She wasn’t here. She had served her purpose and now it was time for her to join the ranks. This was a truth her own new instinct would not let her ignore, and so he knew that was precisely what she had done.
So, on to the next one. The way the strange reporter made him feel, the way she preoccupied his mind, led him to conclude that pursuing anyone else seriously, at least at the current time, would be a waste. He had to satisfy his curiosity, and he was determined to possess, the woman Rasia Engres.
If nothing else, she indeed would become one of the family, at the very least.
As if on cue Lamb said, “I did some checking on Rasia Engres, Master.”
DeSai looked up from his plate immediately. “Yes, and what did you discover?”
Martin cleared his throat. “She is indeed from Ukraine. She has been a journalist for six years, and has a reputation as being very politically-minded and methodical in her work. My source tells me she is honest, and lives according to a very strict code of integrity. I am assuming this is why she has yet to become… one of the family, sir.”
Cyril turned this over in his mind without responding. She would not be alone with a man is what he heard Martin saying. This must be how she had slipped through their fingers. He knew this is what Lamb meant when he referred tastefully to her ‘integrity’.
“Is she a virgin? This is what you mean, is it not?” He could not keep the eagerness and hope from his voice.
Lamb shrugged. “According to my sources she has never been known to have a serious or ‘long-term’ relationship, much less casually date. She is very career-minded, sir. Very focused.” He paused and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “As you well know, it would be impossible to determine whether or not she is a virgin without asking her directly, but I can say that she has a reputation for being a bit… frigid.”
DeSai soaked up the information like a sponge. “Lamb, I want you to find out more. I want the details. I am considering giving her a personal interview, but I want to know her… intimately first.”
“Yes, sir, but how will I find out the personal details? I mean, no one would know these things but Miss Engres herself.”
Cyril began to get annoyed with this slave. “Keep i
t simple, Martin. Did she have a boyfriend in high-school? Was she ever pregnant? Where are her parents? If they were part of our family I would know it, would I not? Do what I am asking you to do and get back to me as soon as possible.” He turned his attention back to his food, dismissing the man with the change of attitude he displayed.
Martin pushed his plate away from him gently and stood; the Master was clearly dismissing him. “Is there anything else, sir?”
DeSai looked up at him and thought for a moment. “Yes. Get me her contact information for myself. If she insists on being evasive about an interview I may approach things from another angle, so it will be necessary. For now just follow the instructions I have given you.”
Martin Lamb bowed slightly at DeSai, then left the Master’s room quickly and retreated to his office. He closed the door and secured it behind him before picking up his phone and dialing one of the best investigators in the Washington area, a man who was also one of DeSai’s minions.
“Steadman, the Master would like to find out everything he can about the journalist Rasia Engres, the red-haired lady who was in attendance at the press conference last night. He wants to know… everything.” Lamb abruptly hung up the phone. Steadman was good; he would be in touch before DeSai knew it.
Chapter 16
DeSai’s move into the White House went very smoothly. In only a day everything was complete. While he maintained the façade of a ‘president’ by keeping his meetings and saving face with other routine activities, his main focus was on the real agenda: bringing more children home to him, for his eternal use.
Those who were weak continued to weed themselves out. One month after he stepped into office the former President died of a massive brain tumor. Cyril had known it had been there; he could smell its rot clearly. These people were all so vulnerable during the beginning stages. They would either make it or break it. They would thrive or their own pre-existing weaknesses would eliminate them.
Things were ticking along just like clockwork, and he was thrilled.
New women were brought to him daily by their own new instincts, and he would use them like so much tissue paper. Not one could keep his attention longer than it took to bed them. He would quickly send them out of his presence to join the ranks, and he would spend his alone time thinking about Rasia.
What a beautiful name: ‘Rasia’. He had never heard a name that had such a flow and melody. She was a song to him, and just as impossible to grasp.
∞
Lamb had returned to him with more information the very day after their breakfast chat on the patio. DeSai had been filled with hope at what he had learned, but it also served to inform him that he would need to exercise the utmost patience.
“She was raised by a single mother who passed away a year and one-half ago, sir. Ms. Engres was already employed by the ‘Post’ in Kiev at that time, and she was too busy with her job to even attend her mother’s funeral.” Lamb’s face was stony as he related what he had learned.
This small bit of information pleased DeSai. She was a cold one, his Rasia. This would explain the reason she was a virgin. She had no time for men.
“No boyfriends then, past or present?”
Lamb shook his head. “She has dated briefly in the past. My source was able to contact one of the men, of whom are family to us, Master. His name is Demyan Orlov; he said, in a nutshell, that she would not allow him to touch her, not in a sexual manner anyway. He expressed that she used him to advance, at the ‘Post’. He even said some lost their jobs on account of her, and she took their position. This young man is even the nephew of the editor of the Kiev Post, so who knows how she managed to accomplish that feat. It sounds like she has… ice water… running through her veins.”
This caused Cyril to smile broadly. This was his dream woman, a girl after his own black heart. Oh, yes, he must know her.
“Contact her and ask her if she would like an exclusive interview with me,” he said. He was still smiling, but his eyes were distracted and his voice was demanding. “I will be flying to Boston today, and I will return tomorrow. Have answers when I return.”
Lamb was obviously being dismissed. He rose and left, intent on his mission. It would be to his detriment to not have the requested information on time.
DeSai had gone to Boston for a public appearance and to meet with some city politicians there, all of whom were already in his possession. He answered the questions asked of him by the press, but his mind was on Rasia. She was all he could think about. By the time he was ready to board the helicopter the next morning to return to Washington he was very lovesick and distracted indeed. He could hardly wait to speak to Martin Lamb.
∞
Cyril DeSai sat at his desk at the Oval Office, the blinds drawn and the lights dim. He wanted his phone to ring, or for Lamb to knock and enter with more information about the elusive Rasia Engres, but all remained still.
This country, yes, and his family all over, could pretty much run itself. He took the Presidency for appearances, for the sake of those who were not yet drawn. Otherwise, he was the ruler, but his slaves were no more than animals now, and animals lived by instinct, without rulers. He could take all the time alone he needed.
His taste for the new women had mysteriously dwindled. He had lost much needed rest turning this over in his mind. In the centuries since he had been turned he had never experienced such a lack of interest in the raw sex which had come to be his main addiction, next to blood, that is. The new ones would come and he would throw them an obligatory screwing, but this was mostly because it was expected, it was part of the process.
There was a bite, a special bite, which he had never given to another. It was the one that would make the woman of his choosing his queen for all eternity. It would change her instantly and give her all the strength and power she would need to take her place and rule with him. If the one of his choosing had a weakness, this bite would immediately destroy her; it would take only seconds. This was by design, he knew, even though no one had ever told him that. It was to help him move on and begin looking again right away. But if she was ideal she would be the strongest and most powerful female on the face of the Earth, and all within only moments.
He wanted to bite Rasia. He had seen her only one time, and yet he could not stop himself from thinking about her constantly, day and night. He growled and shook his head as if to empty it of its thoughts, but it did no good, and he began to pace around the office. Where the heck was Lamb?
Suddenly a sharp rap sounded at the doors and before it even stopped he responded with an eager, “ENTER!”
A flustered Martin Lamb appeared and closed the door behind him. “Master,” he said, smiling. “I hope your trip went well.”
“Yes, yes, as well as can be expected. How are you, Martin? Did you complete your mission regarding Ms. Engres successfully? Have a seat and let’s talk.”
Both men sat at the desk, and Lamb seemed to be a bit jumpy, but it appeared to be a good thing. He was not nervous; he was a bit excited. DeSai, on the other hand, was more than ready to hear what he had to say.
“You have spoken with Ms. Engres, I take it,” he began.
Lamb nodded. “Yes, I have. I related the message to her that you wished to grant her an exclusive interview. She asked why you opted for her and I told her you wanted the people of the Ukraine to get a clear picture of who you are as a man and as a leader, and that you trusted her to provide them with exactly that, based on her professional reputation.”
“That’s very good, Martin. Very good. What did she say?”
“She is willing to interview you, but she had a couple of… requirements,” he replied.
DeSai began to get confused. “What sort of ‘requirements’?”
Lamb took a deep breath; he was treading lightly, DeSai could tell. “Primarily, she will not interview with you alone.”
“What do you mean? That’s nonsense!” He began to get a bit hot under the collar. Why did she not wan
t to be alone with him? Was he not attractive enough for her?
His response made Martin flinch slightly, as if he had expected it but still was not prepared for it. “Yes,” he began. “She claims she does not interview alone with the opposite sex, and she does not make exceptions to this rule.”
At this revelation DeSai was silent. Oh, she was a shrewd one! She maintained control at all times. What was her vision for her final outcome? What was her mind really like? The thought made his crotch tingle erotically.
“What did she propose then?”
Lamb was relieved at his calm question and sighed. “Her photographer is male, a young man who could easily be brought into the family. He acts as her chaperone, so to speak. She will interview you with him present. If not, she would rather wait to speak to you until your next press conference.”
Cyril thought only for a moment before saying, “Fine. No problem there. But you think we could bring him into the fold easily. Why is that?”
“He has worked with Ms. Engres since the beginning of his short career, and the boy has absolutely no social life, according to our man Steadman. If we turn him over to one of our beauties he will not stand a chance.”
DeSai did not hesitate. “Arrange it,” he said. “and let me know as soon as you find out when she wants to do it.”
He dismissed the young man with a curt nod and a glance toward the office door. Lamb jumped up and saw himself out. Now Cyril could go back to his thoughts.
She was the one, he was sure of it. A woman so beautiful, focused, cold, and hard she was meant for him and him alone. She was hungry for advancement, and she wanted to maintain control, not to mention that she was distant and utterly elusive.
But how disappointing it would be if she were not! He could not afford to entertain the thought, and he quickly pushed it out of his head. This was it, he just knew it. He needed to tread very lightly if he wanted to play this one properly; after all, he would be playing for keeps.
