Flesh & Blood

by John Argus

  ‘One use does not preclude another,’ Morales countered, grinding his groin against her upraised bottom. ‘Now if you will leave us, please.’

  The newcomer shrugged. ‘Fine, perhaps I’ll use her when you’re done.’

  Anger surged within Leah and the fog thinned. What was she doing here like this? Why was she…?

  The steady thrusting of his cock was more than just distracting; the pleasure rolled over her in waves and it was almost impossible to keep her mind focused.

  He leaned over her, his chest pressing down against her back as his lips began to move against the nape of her neck. She felt his teeth nipping lightly, and a sudden fear tore through her as she recalled the other man biting into the throat of the bound girl.

  Yet she could not pull herself free, could not resist the intense pleasure tearing at her body and soul. She trembled with apprehension as she felt the sharpness of his teeth against the soft flesh of her throat. She had to get away. She had to run!

  But she couldn’t break free. Not now. Not yet. The pleasure was growing deliciously unbearable, the pressure certain to explode.

  Leah cried out as his teeth pierced her flesh, sharp pain gripping her for an instant before being swept away. Her climax billowed, spreading, growing in power. She screamed in ecstasy, grinding back against his pumping groin. Fire flowed through her veins and the pleasure buffeted her. His teeth remained clamped to her throat and she heard his growl in her ear.

  She was dazed as he lifted her into his arms then sat down, and she snuggled back against his shoulder and sighed in languorous comfort. His fingers stroked the hair back from her forehead and she opened her eyes wearily. She tried to reach for him, but discovered her wrists were behind her back, the metal bracelets locked together.

  His hands moved slowly down her body, and fire followed them. ‘What are you?’ she groaned, her voice barely a whisper.

  ‘Your master,’ she heard him reply.

  Chapter Twelve

  There was no air. The house was a century old but the attic smelled of sawdust, of new cut wood. The floorboards were dark with age, the small window frames at either end rich with carved images of flowers. The glass itself was thick with dirt, and dust was liberally spread over the packing boxes, furniture and knickknacks covering the floor. The sun beat against the thin shingles overhead and the confined attic almost glowed with heat.

  Leah lay on her side on the floor beneath a window, the setting sun turning her flesh bright and golden. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw slack as her chest moved slowly, her breathing soft and shallow and tortured. Her ankles and wrists were drawn back behind her and held together by a thin chain. Her back was sharply and uncomfortably arched.

  Beads of perspiration coated her body, slowly meandering across the smooth surface of her breasts and thighs. Her face glistened, her long brown hair damp against her brow and cheeks. Dark circles of moisture speckled the floor around her body, and then were erased as with a soft moan she shifted position, trying again to ease the strain on her shoulders and back.

  The shackles around her wrists and ankles were a constant pressure against her limbs, squeezing heavily as their tight embrace bruised her tender flesh. The collar she now wore around her throat was broad, digging uncomfortably into the underside of her jaw. She spasmed weakly and a groan escaped from between her dry lips.

  Soon, she thought. Soon.

  Her nipples had gone numb, the iron clamps biting into them, crushing the sensitive flesh, squeezing cruelly so that both buds were swollen. Her left breast was squashed to the floor, and every time she shifted, however minutely, her moist flesh rubbed across the wood and a little tingle of pain made her nipple throb.

  The sun crept lower and at last her face was out of the heat, and she mumbled her relief. She could not move, though, could not roll over. A chain was secured to the floor behind her, crossing over her thighs and attached to the ring piercing her clitoris.

  The sun crept along her body until it eventually left her in the relief of the shade. What would he do to her next? Would he punish her further, or was this enough? Would he degrade her as badly as she degraded herself?

  She shuddered as memories drifted around her head; dark, cruel, exquisitely arousing. Her pussy squeezed and her hips tensed. She felt the pull of the chain against her clitoris, rubbing against her exquisitely, a shard of pain making her eyes widen momentarily as she gasped.

  The attic began to darken as the sun sank, shadows deepening and lengthening. She felt a vibration run through the floor as a door slammed somewhere in the building. Leah’s heart beat faster and with a sudden sense of urgency she fought to roll over, to place herself as he had left her, with arms and legs beneath her.

  She let out a whimper as the chain pulled against her sensitive flesh, as her aching shoulders felt new pressure against them. But then she was on her back, awkwardly positioned with her arms trapped beneath her, breasts thrust up and vulnerable as panic gripped her again.

  Her eyes strained towards the stairway across the attic. She tried to swallow, though her throat was parched. All day she had laid on the floor in the overheated attic, dead without him, as he was dead below her, several floors down in the room beneath the basement. But his touch and the unforgiving shackles were with her, reminding her of him, of his anger and the dark pleasure he forced upon her every time he touched her body.

  The door below creaked and a single bare bulb flickered on overhead, throwing stark light across the attic. She heard his foot on the first step, then the second. Her pulse raced and fear and excitement twisted themselves around her insides.

  Step after slow step he climbed the stairs until at last she could see him at the far end, almost appearing to rise from the floor, as from a grave. He neither smiled nor frowned to see her. His eyes were cold as he appeared to glide across the floor, carrying a shadow with him. His trousers and shirt were midnight black, his raven hair tumbling like silk around his broad shoulders.

  He stood over her for a moment, brooding. Leah gazed up, panting weakly, unable to speak. He was a cruel and enigmatic man, a man of dark anger and gentle acceptance, a forgiving man who, she knew, would punish every transgression.

  His black leather boots had pointed toes. One reached out and the heel pushed against her hip. She let out a soft cry as he shoved and she rolled over onto her front, and pain seared her breasts as her nipples were crushed beneath her. She rolled again instinctively, onto her side, fighting to keep silent, to not whimper like a pathetic little girl.

  She watched his boot rise again, the sole coming down against her breasts. She did not, would not beg, or so she told herself, her mind spinning. He pressed down more and more heavily and the pain became severe for Leah as he gradually leant more of his weight onto her breasts. ‘Please!’ she sobbed, the cry torn from her throat, but the pressure grew, the pain more.

  Leah tried to bear it, knowing her efforts would please him, perhaps even arouse him. She clung to the tattered remnants of her pride as her breast was crushed beneath his heavy sole. ‘Master!’ she cried at last, surrendering with a sob of shame.

  He withdrew his foot and knelt beside her, his movements liquid, almost unnoticed. He reached for her, for the chain between the clamps biting into her nipples. He hooked a finger idly beneath it and pulled upward, stretching her nipples and causing pain to flare. His other hand lowered the zipper of his trousers and momentarily slipped inside, emerging with his manhood. It was flaccid but still large, and as she watched he began to harden.

  He pulled on the chain again, tugging her numbed nipples, then gave a sudden tug and Leah cried out. His cock lengthened, and then he tugged again on the chain and she screamed. He was pulling her torso up by her nipples, pulling her face closer to his erection. The pain made her writhe and arch desperately, trying to ease the pressure until, as she realized his intent, she co
uld slip her lips around the swollen glans of his erection, which sank into her mouth as she frantically licked and sucked.

  His eyes caught hers and a wave of primitive hunger washed over her, and she shuddered as she strained her head up and took his cock deeper. He was using her, and no matter what shame she felt she would grovel to feel that terrible, wonderful sexual rush through her veins. It was worse than any narcotic, the pleasure more fantastic, more intoxicating, and more addictive than anything mere mortals could conceive of. But then he was no mere mortal. He was no mortal at all.

  His fingers were long and slender, strong enough to crush metal. They slid through her tangled hair and pulled gently. His cock thrust down into her throat, and Leah gurgled in dazed and overwhelming passion. Her face was pressed against his groin, her lips tight around the base of his cock, her nose pressed into his nest of black pubic hair.

  His grip loosened, then tightened, loosened, then tightened, guiding her face up and down on his cock. His hips began to move, thrusting against her using athletically economical movements, his cold dark eyes holding hers. Being used so indifferently made her begin to tremble violently, sexual hunger consuming her, tensing her muscles, her traitorous sex yearning to be penetrated.

  His hips continued to work rhythmically, his cock sliding easily up and down as he fucked her flushed, perspiration beaded face. Then he pulled back, slowly withdrawing his long thick cock until the bulbous head lodged between her stretched lips, and then with no indication of emotion he came and hot, viscous liquid filled her mouth. It burned her tongue and her palette, and set her throat on fire as she desperately swallowed the copious ejaculation.

  Convulsions wracked her tortured frame and she shook more and more violently as he permitted her to orgasm too. But she knew it was only the prelude to the ecstasy he would give her – if he chose to.

  His hands moved over her, but she hardly noticed them until suddenly the clamps were gone from her nipples, the chain unattached from her clitoral ring, her stiff legs straightening a little as the chain binding her ankles to her sex receded with a slight scraping sound on the attic floorboards.

  Agony seized her nipples as the circulation returned, and tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she held her position, her body trembling, her lips still tight around the head of his placid cock as she adored it greedily, desperate for every drop of his essence.

  But then he drew back. ‘Have you had enough of me?’ he asked, his question caressing her weary body like soothing velvet. He was taunting her and she knew it, ashamed she could not resist him, could not control herself in his presence.

  ‘Please,’ she begged, abandoning all pretenses to pride and strength. ‘Please use me as you will, master.’ She licked his polished boots. Her wrists and ankles were still shackled, but she could move to some degree now and did so, her tongue lapping desperately at his boots, kissing the pristine leather in adoration. Shame and self-retribution filled her, but the despair she would feel if he turned away was too great a threat to contemplate.

  ‘Then assume the position,’ he said.

  Shocked with an intoxicating blend of excitement and trepidation, Leah twisted and awkwardly pulled her aching body onto her knees. She took her weight on her forearms and raised her bottom for him, spreading her knees as wide as she could with her ankles still shackled together. Her hairless sex strained for him from between her toned thighs, her labia swollen with hunger, her clitoris glistening, her juices coating her sex and the insides of her thighs as she trembled and waited anxiously, terrified he would abandon her. Nothing else mattered. She was consumed with her desire for him.

  And then she heard him move and felt him against her, felt the spongy head of his revitalized penis pressing against her exposed entrance. He was too large, he always was. He hurt her as he thrust and penetrated her, but then he always did.

  It was ecstasy as he filled her, the moist, velvet sheath of her sex stretching to accommodate him. And then he began to move. Every deep, savage stroke sent a wave of pleasure flooding through her core. Her eyes widened in wonderment and her lips parted in a soundless, breathless scream of fulfillment, the pleasure so intense she felt humbled.

  He fucked her dispassionately, his groin slapping against her upraised buttocks, his fingers digging into her flanks with bruising force, his cock pumping cruelly into her cunt as she quivered beneath him. Naked and chained, sweat coating her rocking body, she had been reduced to a mindless creature of carnal hunger. Her ass thrust back eagerly, her insides spasming around the rigid cock pounding back and forth within her. Passionate groans spilled from her lips as her storm of pleasure rose to a crescendo, and she screamed, exhausted and breathless, her cries of unrelieved passion filling the attic space.

  ‘What are you?’ The question emerged as a fatigued croak as Leah knelt before him.

  He shrugged. ‘Any answer I give you will sound clichéd or too incredible for you to absorb.’ She continued to stare inquisitively at him, and he smiled faintly. ‘Very well,’ he conceded, ‘I am a vampire.’

  Leah felt ice chill her spine at the confirmation. ‘But that’s impossible,’ she whispered, her voice unsteady.

  ‘Of course it is.’

  ‘If there are vampires,’ she went on, unconvinced by her own denial that such things existed, ‘why isn’t it more commonly known?’

  ‘Because,’ he said as if speaking to a child, ‘anyone who reported one would be instantly ridiculed and probably deemed insane.’

  ‘But surely the authorities…’

  ‘Go and tell a doctor or a police officer that a vampire has bitten you. See how far you get.’

  Leah stared at him helplessly.

  ‘There are always logical answers to whatever puzzles my people leave lying around, including someone deliberately trying to fool the authorities with macabre damages to bodies. Besides, it’s not that difficult to make humans forget, to fog their memories, or simply to implant a suggestion that will cause them to ignore certain things. In the event someone did actually suspect something was amiss he or she would very quickly forget his concerns after a brief conversation with me or someone like me.’

  She looked at him for a long moment, knowing he was right. ‘How long, I mean, how many…?’

  ‘We have always been few,’ he told her, knowing her question before she’d completed it. ‘There are perhaps ten vampires of power in the US, and four or five times that many younger ones of less influence and power.’

  He reached for her and gripped her hair lightly but insistently, pulling her up to her feet and forward until she straddled him. Incredibly he was already erect again, and he maneuvered her over his erection and then down, and Leah could not suppress a grateful sigh as he forged up inside her.

  Despite clearly being aroused again he apparently felt no real urgency, for he held her still on his lap, gently kissing her breasts and nipples, his hands moving up and down her back as she sat motionless, impaled upon his sturdy column of flesh.

  ‘W-why aren’t there bodies of your victims everywhere?’ she gasped, unable to leave the conversation alone despite the pleasure trying its best to distract her.

  He shook his head and stroked her fringe off her brow with what felt like real affection. ‘We don’t need to kill, my dear. That’s a myth created by ignorant writers. Do you think I could drink all the blood in a human body at one sitting? Please. A pint or so does me nicely for a day or two, and it’s not at all difficult to obtain.’

  He curled his little fingers through her nipple rings and tugged repeatedly so that her nipples hurt again, but she cared not. It was hard to keep concentrating with the longing rousing within her once more, with the hunger beginning to grow again. Yet she’d been aroused to one degree or another for so long now that she’d learned to function after a fashion, and she was desperate to find out what was happening t
o her.

  ‘Those vampires at the nightclub…’ she pressed, ‘did they…?’

  ‘I expect so,’ he answered, again showing an aptitude for understanding a question even though it remained incomplete. ‘You spoke of how weak you felt, so I presume they fed.’

  Leah shuddered with dread.

  ‘It did you no harm,’ he went on, with a frightening casualness. ‘And it wasn’t as if they could ask you, now was it?’ He looked amused by his own rhetorical question.

  ‘Why the… the rings?’ she whispered, the fingers at her nipples and the erection buried deep within her making it difficult to concentrate her thinking.

  He smiled. ‘We like to mark our favorites,’ he explained. ‘The rings possess power. We can speak to your body as well as your mind. It helps to ease the pain of our feeding. And there are spells which will aid in healing and changing the body.’

  ‘Spells?’ she gasped. ‘You mean, like magic?’

  ‘You may call it that,’ he said, his hands gently caressing her back as he bent to nip lightly at her breasts. ‘There are a variety of powers at play in this world, and some of us are able to manipulate them in ways we find helpful.’

  He smiled. ‘Sexual heat and need, physical and sexual pleasure, are the opium in which we deal. It seduces our prey and makes them feel unconcerned with what we do. The more sexually responsive a person is the easier they are to sexually please, and thus to control.’

  ‘But I… I don’t want anyone controlling me,’ she protested.

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ he said placidly, his fingers kneading her bottom.

  ‘So why me?’ she gasped.

  ‘Why you?’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Chance, luck, beauty, strength of will and character. Do you think all blood tastes alike and has the same qualities? I assure you that it does not. People are like wine, and each is slightly different. Male and female blood tastes different, as does young and old. And your blood is a particularly fine vintage.’