Futile Flame

by Sam Stone

  And then I saw my childhood friend Alcia. She looked much older than the last time I’d seen her, maybe five years before, and a little plumper. I followed her carriage on foot for a mile until we reached her house. Alcia had married well. But for once I did not indulge my natural curiosity. I was too afraid of being seen, or worse, succumbing to feeding from a former friend. The thought made my stomach churn. I slipped into her house unseen and in her closets and drawers found a suitable outdoor outfit that was respectable but not ostentatious. I slipped the clothing on with some relief.

  Now I could visit any tailor in the city and order clothing to furnish me with the right image I’d need for a lady travelling aboard a ship alone. I could only do that if I had money and status. A woman alone would be suspicious and so I would also need an entourage of employees. It was all so incredibly complicated and, as I dressed, my mind tumbled over all of the many factors that could go wrong.

  Walking through the streets again, clothed and visible, I started to feel part of the world again. I wondered what would be my next move. Firstly I needed to feed my blood craving again. It was growing steadily worse with each passing day, and every time I used my invisibility I became hungrier. It affected my ability to remain rational and I began to focus on the pulsing beat at the throat of everyone I passed. It was a dangerous time. I feared losing control and turning into an insane animal. This made the need to feed far more urgent. Therefore the docks appeared to be the likely place to find what I needed. I reasoned that it was probably best to eat more regularly in order to avoid a lack of self control. So I returned to the docks and hired a whore.

  ‘I suspect this is a first for you,’ I said as we went up three flights of stairs to her small and dusty room.

  ‘A fine lady alone... yes. But I done women plenty of times. Men like to see me with their wives and mistresses.’

  ‘I see.’ I smiled as she closed the door, and I began to peel off my black gloves. ‘Take your clothes off and lie down.’

  ‘You don’t waste time,’ she laughed. ‘O’course stripping completely will cost you more.’

  ‘Fine.’

  The whore was younger than she looked. Her body was firm and unscarred by childbirth. I was surprised to see this, as I assumed that she would have been pregnant at least once by now. I’d picked her for her flowing black locks and laughing brown eyes. She was sweet natured, though I was certain she was experienced. I’d thought her pretty, but there was a hardness around her eyes that made her seem harsh in certain light.

  She stripped and lay on the bed as I watched and her nakedness excited me. But now I recognised why; the sensation was less about her body, and more about the fine blue veins that threaded her olive skin, just under the surface. Her stomach muscles were taut and firm, her breasts pert. I watched the blood pump under her fine skin, followed its pathway all the way to her heart. My stomach growled.

  I walked towards her with the gait of a predator.

  ‘What’s your name?’ I asked seconds before my fangs extended from my gums and into her neck.

  I fed on her blood until her eyes dulled and she sank into death with ecstatic orgasmic cries strangling her last breath. Unsatisfied, I wanted more. My nails were like talons and I ripped open her chest at the last moment. She didn’t feel it; she was already comatose. But I wanted to suck the last beat from her heart, and I snapped the arteries as I pulled it free.

  I pressed my greedy mouth against the still spasming muscle and swallowed her last drops. I licked my fingers clean of her blood. Then I lay back on her bed like a decadent whore myself, my body jerking and rolling with the ecstasy of her vital blood rushing through me, its vibrancy shivered through every nerve ending until late into the night.

  Chapter 24 – Lucrezia’s Story

  Whore

  I was determined to enjoy Rome’s underbelly, though I instinctively lurked in the shadows. The lowlife, the evil, rank world of the poor, held a bizarre fascination for me. If you visited the dock alone as a woman, you were liable to be raped. If you hired a whore, she may rob you of your purse as you slept. If you drank in the taverns then sailors would offer you money for a good time. This was the world of the dock. Its rules were uncomplicated and the simple honesty of the lowest dregs of humanity was refreshing.

  The world of wealth, the world I’d known as the daughter of a Pope, had been full of sin, evil and debauchery. It was false. No one was really your friend; declarations of love would be denied days later once lovers had satisfied their lust. No one could be trusted. A pregnancy would be hushed up and the girl sent away to be married off as a virgin at the first opportunity. This had been my life. This was why I took over the life of the whore on the docks, why I disposed of her body and began to wear her clothes and live in her room. This is how I became known as ‘Juliet the whore’, who gave her customers the best time and never stole from them. Of course I did steal something from them, although their memory of it was always very vague. They remembered the ecstasy of my touch and I soon learnt I didn’t have to kill if I took only a little blood each night. It was far less conspicuous than murder, even in this lawless society.

  The sailors always wanted more of a good thing, and they came back for it. I built up a regular clientele and actually began to enjoy the seedy and violent life of the underworld I had once been afraid of. Even the strange requests and sexual perversities of my clients interested me. I took part in them as though they were some form of experiment.

  The most surprising thing was how the docklands accepted me wholeheartedly: men more readily than the other whores at first.

  ‘You’re new around here, and there are rules you have to play by,’ a sassy whore of about forty told me.

  ‘Rules?’

  ‘Yeah. And this here is my patch.’

  ‘I see.’

  It was a quiet night. There hadn’t been a new ship for several days, which meant trade was slow. The whores were squabbling over every potential customer. It had been noted that I had more than average success, even though the younger girls were usually the busiest.

  ‘So what’s your name then?’ asked the whore, her hand on her hip. I noticed the other whores carefully watching our exchange.

  ‘I’m Juliet,’ I answered automatically. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Margo. And I run this area. Like I said, there’s a way things are done around here.’

  I looked around at the others. I read curiosity, but not fear, from their thoughts. Margo was respected. The code among the whores was that they looked after each other.

  ‘Well, Margo. I’m new in town and I could do with some good advice,’ I said. ‘It’s a slow night, so why don’t we go get some drinks in the tavern. I’m paying if you’ve a mind for the company and are willing to explain things to me.’

  Margo’s arm dropped from her hip and her stance became benign. In the end friendship and generosity were all that anyone needed. I became accepted as one of them and I was always ready to pay for cheap wine for my new friends. Because whores disappeared daily, the old Juliet was soon forgotten and no one, not even the landlord, asked where she was.

  At first I found it sad that no one cared, but it was also freeing. This was a world that required no explanation. A lovely, welcoming world. To be different was to be one of them. I stayed there for two years exploring and tasting the underworld of Rome. It was never tiresome. I lost my ladylike manners as I mimicked my peers.

  ‘Juliet!’ yelled Margo from the doorway of The Shuttered Door, one of the more popular taverns. ‘Watch out for the Cap’n o’ the Celestine, he likes to rough his girls up and I heard he was looking for you earlier. He’s been through all of us at some time or other. He messed up Justina so bad she hasn’t worked for a month.’

  Anger flared in my chest. I recalled the brutality of my brother. The thought of little Justina being abused by some brute made my stomach churn. Although I hadn’t seen her around, it was vexing to realise she had been injured and couldn�
�t work.

  ‘Don’t worry, lovey,’ I replied. ‘I know just how to handle his sort.’

  The Captain found me in the tavern. Once we were alone he received a beating he’d never forget and would never admit was delivered by a woman. I suspect he told his crew he was set upon by thugs. Five of them at least. I left him alive, barely.

  ‘Stay away from the whores of Fumicino,’ I hissed in his ear. ‘And stay your fists in future unless you want me to finish this. Believe me, I’ll know if you hurt another woman.’

  He’d stared in swollen-eyed horror at my lengthened fangs. His mind screamed ‘demon’ but he was too afraid to speak. He emptied his bowels into his breeches. Just for show, I laughed manically to ensure his view of an avenging monster was forever burnt into what passed for his brain. I also made sure that Justina received a financial boost from a mysterious benefactor. I knew she had five children and struggled to feed them while trying to make the best living she could. With money to feed and clothe herself, she soon recovered and was back in the docks working alongside Margo and the others again.

  It was easy to believe I was one of them, that I finally belonged somewhere. Now I was both visible and invisible; hidden in the most conspicuous world. This was a place that the wealthy knew existed, the corrupt used and enjoyed, and the pious chose to ignore.

  The most difficult times were when wealthy friends I’d known in my old world came to the dock looking for a cheap thrill. I’d seen a few familiar counts, a duke and even a prince and, as Juliet, had serviced them all. I’d been careful to keep my fangs in check on these occasions. Strangely, they never recognised me. I think it was in part my youthful transformation. I also suspected that in some part of their brains, they couldn’t acknowledge recognition of a fellow aristocrat fallen low.

  Being a whore thrilled me. I did not see it as shameful. Besides, it was my choice. I didn’t have to live this life for the money but because I chose to, and therefore I picked my clients carefully. I only fucked and bled those I found desirable. This was how I came to move into the next stage of my life.

  A young count, who I didn’t know, arrived at the docks with his new wife, a beautiful and fragile woman of eighteen. I watched them enter the tavern with the same trepidation as others. Once I laid eyes on his wife, I knew I had to have her. The count had brought her there for instruction. It was a common occurrence: a young sophisticated and inexperienced man with an inexperienced wife.

  ‘I’m Juliet,’ I said, looking deep into his eyes.

  His cock hardened in his trousers as I stroked his arm, sending lust into his body.

  ‘You are exactly what we need,’ he answered.

  I took them to my rooms. The woman was quiet. I could smell her nervous perspiration. He’d obviously told her his expectations and though she was unwilling, the guilt at her inadequacy would make her comply. I knew this sort of man. All he wanted was to lie back and be serviced. He would give no thought to his wife’s pleasure at all.

  ‘Ariadne,’ he said, as he began to strip. ‘Take off my boots.’

  She obeyed.

  ‘I want you to watch how the whore does things to me, and this is what I expect of you. Do you understand?’ There was a threat in his tone. I glanced at the girl. She nodded, very afraid. Interesting. I wondered if he had hurt her, or had at least threatened to.

  He removed his clothing, insisting she help whenever he wanted it. Made her unfasten his breeches, slipping them down his legs until she was eye level with his groin. He looked at me then and gestured.

  ‘Teach her to suck it,’ he commanded.

  I smiled. I really didn’t like his attitude and this lovely little girl deserved so much better.

  ‘I will. But, good sir, I have some other tricks that may interest you more.’

  ‘I’m an experienced man,’ he lied.

  ‘I don’t doubt it. But the only way to learn how to give pleasure is to receive it.’

  He weighed me up. ‘What do you mean?’

  I gestured towards Ariadne.

  ‘I can show your wife how to enjoy sex, and then she will enjoy servicing you and will be better at satisfying your needs. Lovemaking is not just about fulfilling a lust, it’s about sensual touch, kissing, stroking. Adoring your lover’s body.’

  While I spoke I stroked his arm. Then let my hand wander over his bare chest, and down his belly, stroking small seductive circles that almost touched his rapidly hardening cock.

  ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped.

  I saw the light of lust flame in his black pupils. Any moment now, he would try to take me. I continued to flush my power through his skin, leaving a burning trail of sex everywhere I touched. I stopped attending to him and turned to Ariadne. The air crackled with sexual energy now. She shivered with fear and slight anticipation as my hand closed over hers. I pulled her to me.

  ‘This is how you must kiss your wife,’ I told him. I took her in my arms, my mouth consumed her and my tongue filled her. To my pleasure, Ariadne was a fast learner. She kissed me back eagerly, her body trembling with excitement. I kissed her pink lips until they flushed red. All the time, I stroked her back lightly.

  ‘This is how you undress your wife.’

  I stripped her slowly. Each piece of her expensive satin clothing was peeled away, followed by kisses and strokes. Unlacing her bodice, I kissed her breasts as they tumbled out into my eager and gentle fingers. I sucked on her nipples until she threw her head back. Her knees buckled. I held her up, steadied her and resumed my attention, while beside us her husband sank down on the edge of the bed in fascination.

  I had her naked now and I passed her to him. He mimicked my moves, kissing and sucking her nipples gently. Her body rocked against him with renewed pleasure. She obviously loved him. He was beautiful, as was she. I could see that his experience until now had all been about his satisfaction. It had never occurred to him that making a woman moan with excitement was equally gratifying.

  He wanted to take her, but I wouldn’t let him; it was too soon. I showed him how to kiss down her body. I spread her on the bed and kneeled between her open legs. Here I licked and sucked her until she cried out, thrashing beneath me.

  ‘Ariadne,’ he moaned, pushing me aside.

  He copied me again until her fevered cries culminated in screams of orgasm. She shuddered beneath him. Only then did I let him enter her.

  He lay above her, looking into her eyes. She was swooning with the shock of her sexual release. He fumbled around her eagerly until his cock found the entrance. He thrust hard into her. She arched her back with pain and some residue of pleasure but it was too much.

  ‘Slow down,’ I said. ‘Draw back slowly, and then plunge.’

  He did as I suggested. The joy and passion on Ariadne’s face as he took her spurred him on to gradually increase his movements. The harder and faster he became the more her screams of excitement increased. She dug her nails in him, writhing beneath him like the whore he wanted. Yet, the pleasure was mutual.

  ‘Larenzo,’ she sobbed against him. ‘Oh please, don’t stop.’

  As he spent himself, she exploded once more. Fully satisfied, fully loved, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms stroking and touching. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

  They eventually left after paying me handsomely. I had discovered a new calling.

  Chapter 25 – Present

  Sex Therapist

  ‘News spread far and wide after that,’ Lucrezia smiles, sipping her coffee.

  ‘So, basically, you became a sex therapist? In the sixteenth century?’ Lilly asks, her eyes wide and round with admiration.

  Lucrezia laughs. ‘Yes, I guess so. I ended up doing more of that than whoring afterwards. It seemed to me that men really needed to learn to understand a woman’s needs.’

  ‘Oh my fucking God! You were a feminist before your time,’ Lilly giggles. ‘I like you so much already.’

  I feel a little twinge as the girls smile at each other. A s
mall amount of jealousy will do me good, I suppose. I can’t help thinking that Lilly is mine, and I don’t really care to share her. Luci looks at me as though she hears my thoughts. I slam my shields down.

  ‘I like you too,’ she responds to Lilly. ‘In fact it is very satisfying being around my own kind. I’ve buried myself among humans for a long time.’

  ‘Haven’t we all.’

  Luci and Lilly look at me. Lilly’s eyes are round with wonder as she turns her gaze back to Lucrezia.

  ‘I think you have suffered a great deal,’ Lilly observes. ‘Both of you. But you’ve come out of it well. Eternity is a frightening prospect. You’ve both faced it alone and survived as best you can. I feel so lucky right now.’

  ‘You are lucky,’ Luci smiles. ‘Gabi loves you so very much. It’s something I denied myself all these years. Yes, I’ve coped. I’ve had very little social life though, other than my occasional dip into the world of humanity. It’s easy to become isolated when you don’t have anyone you can be truly honest with.’

  ‘Haven’t you loved at all?’ I ask.

  ‘Oh yes. In a fashion...’

  Chapter 26 – Lucrezia’s Story

  Gypsy

  My little world in Rome ticked by without much incident. I thought perhaps that I could stay there forever unnoticed. I had a new brand of clientele and they paid well to learn the art of love. I recalled a book in my father’s study, The Kama Sutra. With my increasing wealth I managed to procure a copy from a travelling merchant.

  By then I had a small house, and I decorated it with eastern furniture. Chaise longue of red satin, billowing reams of silk draped around the room. Cushions, beautifully beaded in lovely bright colours, scattered the floor of my main ‘treatment’ room. I had trays of exotic middle-eastern foods, such as Turkish pastes flavoured with fruit oils, on platters. Incense burned on gold plates. I bought all of these things from the merchant Captains at the docks. It was a sort of therapy for me, and I did see myself as a doctor, I suppose, helping her patients. Even though some of those patients were sexually dysfunctional couples.