~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~
~ Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~
Part 1
I’m so cold. Cold. Images fade in and out. I’m cold. Forms moving. Was I in the earth? No. Not me. Fading out. Fading in. It’s cold. The earth, and a hand punched through the soil. My hand? Bigger. Waking up? Are my eyes open? There’s water here. On my skin. Voices. Many voices. Warm water, because I’m cold.
“William, lift yer eyes, sweet lad.”
Form, blurry… at the side of me. Can’t focus.
“Cold.”
“Are ye, then? The water’s not to yer liking then?”
Squint. Dark hair, no face. Focus.
“Help me.”
“Aye, but I’m here fer ye, lad.”
Strong hands on me. Eyes clearing. Voices muffled, many voices.
“Where am I?”
“Yer home.”
“Who are you?”
“I’d be Angelus.”
“Who am I?”
“Yer our newest, William.”
Eyes clear now. Large Irishman crouched, and washing filth from my hair.
“I’m new?”
“Aye, ye are.”
Ladies. Two ladies. One light, one dark. Smiling.
“I… I’m in a state of sin.”
“Shh, lad. Ye’ll not be frettin’, now.”
“Cover me, please…”
Gripping cold porcelain. Gripping cold flesh. Bloated with sin. Ladies aren’t averting their eyes. Panic.
“Women… Ye’ll be frightenin’ the lad.”
“Come now, Angelus… You mustn’t keep our dear boy all to yourself.”
Elegant. Blonde. Tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. Who is she? Why is she here? Where am I?
“Ah now, it wouldn’t do to have ye hoverin’ Dearest…”
“Yes, yes. Come now, Dru, we’ll leave Daddy to it, then.”
“But he’s just been stewed and coddled. Ready for drinking!”
“Shh, come along Drusilla.”
The ladies are moving, their skirts swirling around their slippered feet. A door closing. I’ll catch my breath now.
“Exquisite, Sire. Lovely choice.”
“Aye, Penn, but he is.”
They’re lifting me from the bath, and wrapping me in linens. Impossibly strong. They hand me off to one another, and carry me to a large bed, where the linens are removed. Lying here, exposed. A round face smiles down on me.
“Little brother, what a Master you’ll become.”
“Master?”
Oil is being poured onto my skin. Both men working their fingers into my muscles. I feel my arms grow stronger with each stroke. Oh. Oh no. A swelling in my groin. I suffer with indiscretion festering in my stomach.
“Please… I’ve no control…”
“This what’s troublin’ ye, lad?”
Cold hand on my swelling, and… and… and I’m spilling out… and Oh Lord! Oh Lord! What have I done? What have I become? Unseemly! I’m sobbing. The corrupt hands are comforting me.
“I’ll hold him, you finish, Penn.”
“Aye.”
The Irishman lifts me onto his lap, cupping my head beneath his chin, the young man with the round face – who called me ‘brother’, is working the oil into my legs. Curious. I feel home. The scent of the Irishman fills my nostrils, and I must turn my head to burrow into his neck. I feel a pulse in my groin again as the scent increases, and press my nose to the hollow. What’s happened to me? But this scent. This scent, overpowering. Smells like home. I trust him.
“That’s it, lad. Ye need this.”
His hand returns to my groin. Urge. My teeth itch. The other hand, on the back of my neck, pressing me harder into him. Something’s happened to my face, and I’m sucking on the throat. Sucking. Sucking. Hand around my member gripping and pulling. Moaning and sucking. Sobbing in pleasure. Oh. Feels absolute. Complete.
“Look, Sire… superb the way they rise and tense.”
“Lift them for me.”
Strong, sure fingers lifting my sac. Stretching me. Sucking harder. So exposed. Spilling again. Wild spurts in that fist. Spilling. Jerking. Oh Dear Lord. I’m drinking his blood! Can’t stop. I need to breathe! I need to breathe! Pant, and it’s bubbling in my throat…
“William! William! Listen, boy. Are ye listenin’?”
“I’m sorry!”
“No, lad. No apologies. Yer doin’ what yer meant to. Tis who ye are now.”
“I’m… I… I bit you! I drank from you!”
“Aye, but ye did. Yer belly was empty, an’ the feed was on ye. Tis no sin, lad. Yer above that now.”
“What am I?”
“Yer a Vampire. A God in yer own right.”
“I… I… I’m a devil?”
“Iffin it be yer wish, then aye, yer a devil.”
“I’m afraid…”
“Loveliest… nothin’ ta fear. Ye’ll learn all ye need at my hand.”
His hand. Still on my member. Sin. Damned. No absolution. The man with the round face, who calls me ‘brother’, is now lying next to us on the bed. His eyes are grey. They’re large and inviting. He brings the excitement back to my groin, and I’m grunting because he’s running a tongue over my belly.
“Sire… lift his legs, if it pleases you.”
My legs being drawn up to my chest. Disgrace. The Irishman holding behind my knees, parting my thighs.
“Your name! What’s your name?!”
“Shh, lad. The name is Penn. You’re William. Behind you that is our Sire, or Angelus.”
“What are you doing to me?”
Smiling. Grey eyes.
“Looking you over, brother. Learning your scent.”
His nose is ghosting over the swell of my abdomen, but his eyes never leave mine. Impure. Impure deeds. Succumbing.
“Won’t you help me?”
Imploring whisper leaks from my lips. Help me return home. Mother is expecting me.
“Aye, whatever you need. Tell me what it is, William.”
“You’re interfering with me… It’s unclean.”
My back rising against the laughter from the chest behind me.
“Sweet boy,” Though it sounds like ‘Sweet By’ “Yer so like our Penn.”
“Please… please…”
“Does it not give ye the pleasure, lad?”
“Yes… but it’s wrong… so very wrong.”
Brother on his knees between mine, fingers running softly over the backs of my oiled thighs.
“You believe you’ll be infected with sin, were I to perform this unclean act upon you?”
“To be sure.”
“Aye… much like me, you are.”
The arms around me tighten, pulling my knees further apart. My backside parted and exposed. So exposed. Brother smiling indulgently.
“There’s a spirit ’neath yer skin, my boyo… Ye need to listen. Listen to yer body. Yer body respondin’ as the God ye are. Listen.”
“And what am I to do?”
“We’ll be seein’ to yer needs, William. Respond as yer body commands, not yer head – so filled with shame and dishonor. Tis a pity, it is.”
The scent of belonging to this Irishman is comforting. If brother smells the same, perhaps it will calm me.
“May I…”
“Anythin’, lad. Just ask.”
“May I smell brother?”
Curiously, it doesn’t bring me shame to request this. Both men seem to shimmer with delight over the question. And this brings me pleasure.
“Breathe me in, lad.”
He whispers as he bends to expose his neck to my nose. Inhale deeply. And Oh the scent… Familiar. Right. Moan against the throat. Teeth itching. And I’m sucking again, and groaning. Sucking great mouthfuls of him. He’s remarkable. Tastes similar to the Irishman, much less heady and thick, but there is still an imperceptible likeness.
“There ye are, William. Penn is yer brother in blood. Can ye taste this?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Would you like to touch me, brother?”
“I would.”
“Ah, do.”
Brother guides my hand beneath his trousers. A very thick shaft fills my fingers. And while this is the first time I’ve felt another man, it doesn’t displease me. The swell of arousal washing through my being fills me with lust. And is this not sin? But I can not think of the Devils with pitchforks chasing me through the depths of Hell. Not now, because his hips are gyrating against my closed fist, and my fingers seem to want more. There are prickling sensations against my flesh, as if it’s awakening. As if I’d been numb. All these years, numb.
“Be mindful, Penn… he’s yet a Pup.”
“Aye…”
My handsome new brother lifts his form from mine. My fingers close around empty air. My hand aches to be filled with him again, and I whimper. Yet the whimper sounds like some class of beast. Is this the spirit within me? The Devil? This God the Irishman speaks of?
“Penn will prepare ye fer me, William. Ye mustn’t be frightened. Tis fine if ye release with the bliss of it.”
“Prepare me for you? For what are we to do?”
“Fer our couplin’, young one.”
Our coupling? However can that work? He mustn’t mean… That is to say… This can not be.
“I… don’t understand.”
“When we’re coupled, yer joined with me. Yer body will awaken to the sensations ye’ll be feelin’. Ye’ll become a proper Vampire. A source of pride to yer clan.”
“My clan? Are you my clan?”
“Aye… I’m yer Sire, lad.”
“My Father?”
“Not as yer mortal father. Not borne from my seed. Borne from my desire, to be sure. Ah, and my desire fer ye is great.”
“You desire me?”
“Aye.”
And why is this comforting to me? As though his desire for me is all I seek. His focused adoration is exhilarating. I crave this.
“Sire… you’ll be so pleased.”
“Tell, Penn…”
“He is untouched. Unbroken.”
“I had no doubt.”
“Perfect, pink… responsive.”
There is groaning behind me now.
“Ah, responsive, are ye lad? Will ye clench fer me? Clench around me?”
“Will it please you?”
“Aye, William.”
“I’ll do as you bid.”
“Yer callin’ out a lust in me, boy… I’ll need release afore I enter ye.”
Brother smiles at him. A moment passes between them. Perhaps brother will give him this release. Oh, but I crave it. Unexplainable. And I can not bring myself to question this… as though the part of me that would is somehow slipping away.
“Do not be frightened, brother. I’ll begin preparing you at once.”
And I’m not frightened as I watch this man dip between my thighs. My body lurches forward, a cold and wet tongue slides delicately across my backside.
“Shh, m’boyo… shh, now.”
“I… I…I…”
“Shh, my love.”
My belly trembles and quakes. This tongue of brother’s is lapping and gently stroking against me. I hear a high pitched whine, like a terrified animal. It can’t be me. But there is purring behind me, and I can not help but be comforted by the sound. Turn my head to nuzzle the Irishman again. There is comfort here. There is.
“Gently, Penn… mindful, aye?”
The tongue against me halts, and that round face with the soft grey eyes rises between my parted legs.
“Aye, but Sire… Have a look, will you? It’s precious.”
I feel my body being lifted, the back of my head sliding down the torso it rested against. My backside is offered up to the Irishman as my body is bent in half.
“Ah, William… I canna help me’self at the sight o’ this.”
Such a passionate moan that sings its way through the words, my member feels as though it’ll burst. And suddenly the Irishman has pressed his lips against the offering and I’m spilling, and moaning as the tongue invades my body. Spilling… arms flailing and…Oh Lord… Where are you? This Fiend is bringing me pleasure as I’ve never known. Every pore in my body seems to split open at his touch.
“Sire, he’s completed… look.”
And now I’m flush against the bed, and a pair of unearthly animals are feeding from the wetness on my belly. Tongues flat and rough against my flesh, and there is electricity here. It needles my skin, causing the hairs to stand on end, and this stiffness between my thighs will not relent. It pokes and prods against the emptiness. The voltage crackles around my head, and my hands are reaching aimlessly into the air. Grabbing for nothing, and for everything all at once.
“Please… please… I must…”
“He needs the touch, Sire.”
“Aye, undress me, lad.”
There are whispers of clothing cutting through the current, and with alarming speed, both men are before me, bare. Their arousals jutting out with pride from soft curls that frame the base. Have I never seen a bared man before? I can’t seem to recall. They’re fascinating. Hard lines, and taut muscles. Curves of flesh wrapped flawlessly over these perfect creatures. Soft shadows ripple and dance across their skin as the oil lamps in the room flicker. There are lamps. Lamps and fine tapestries. Why had I not noticed before? My senses seem heightened. A large hand grasps mine, halting the movement. My hand was flailing on its’ own. How can this be? My body reacting by instinct? I’m feeling drawn into my skin. The hand guides me to my Master’s groin. Master. Why do I regard him as my Master? Because it pleases me.
“Bring me to release, William.”
The body of the Irishman is on all fours. My arm extended beneath the massive form. My hand intuitively pumps at his swelling, and another pulse of static courses through me. Rain. It smells like rain. Is there a lightning storm outside? Is this where it’s coming from? There is a current here. Though I can not put my finger on it. My fingers. Wrapped around my Master. Stroking him. Move myself beneath his face, and stare up in wonder. His eyes smile. His lips quiver. He enjoys my hand. Wordless communication. Is this possible?
“Penn… Childe… Help me along.”
The soft moan of lust is quickly followed by a dipping of the bed. Behind the Irishman’s knees I see another pair of legs positioning themselves at the rear of him. I watch with peculiar interest, vacillating my eyes from the scene between the thighs and the angelic face above me. I hear the sound of wetness, a thumping, a smacking, and I know. The man who calls me brother has filled the Irishman. The Master. This doesn’t repel me. And I am not envious. Inherently I know… it’s not my time yet. This Master of mine has a face so contorted in pleasure, it’s akin to agony.
“Bring yer lips to mine, William.”
His body bends, and mine rises, the motion from the thrusting hips pushes his member back and forth between my fingers. Our lips meet. Oh Lord… if this is Hell… then let me stay, as I’m riding this mans’ lips into heaven. Sweet and soft, wet and yielding. A gentle tongue sweeping broad strokes across my palate. A soft rumbling in my chest. My fingers gripping tighter along the length of pulsating muscle in my fist and my own aches in neglect. Dampness coating my fingers as the lips against mine tremble, moaning into my mouth, and a gasp, and he’s breathing in my groans… and wetness spurts out of him, splattering against my wrist, and my arm and I’m compelled to deepen the kiss, as though I can drink him in through the pleasure of it.
“Sire… oh so much… where shall you have me?”
His lips release mine.
“Inside, Penn… inside, Childe.”
And again, the hips rock violently against the Masters’ backside. They still, and the knees between his thighs shake. They shudder. Hands on his hips grip tightly, and Masters’ eyes are closed in careful concentration. In sweet torturous ecstasy. The body on top slumps forward, a worshipful kiss is placed on the shoulder.
“Collect the women, sweet boy.”
The large hand softly runs down brother’s face, brother leans into the touch.
“It is time, then?”
“Tis.”
Brother is gone. I am alone with the Irishman.
“What shall I call you?”
“An’ what would ye like to be callin’ me?”
“I hear brother call you Sire…”
“Would that please ye?”
“I believe… and then Master is in my head.”
There is a broad smile fixed firmly across the dark mans’ features.
“An’ where did ye hear that, my pup?”
“I can not recall.”
“The spirit in ye is awakenin’. Yer aware o’ yer place.”
“What will it be like?”
“What’s that?”
“Our coupling. Will it hurt?”
“Nah, lad… I’ll no hurt ye. Tis not my intent.”
“Why did you send brother to fetch the women?”
“Tis a ritual. Ye’ll be welcomed to the fold proper.”
“Did you do this with brother?”
“Aye, and Drusilla, who is the dark beauty you met in your cleansin’.”
“And the fair one?”
“That is Darla, head o’ the clan.”
“Over you?”
“Aye.”
“I can not fathom.”
“She is powerful, beyond what ye know.”
“Will she approve of me?”
“Tis scripted in stone, lad. Ye belong to us now. Ye’ll be cared fer, and taught, loved and tended to, in all ways.”
“Why?”
“Because ye were chosen. Hand selected by us four.”
“Brother, too?”
“Aye…”
“And shall I call him brother?”
“Ye’ll call him, Penn, brother, whatever be yer wish.”
“And Darla?”
“Ye’ll call her Sire or Darla.”
“I see.”
“Are ye feelin’ alright, then?”
“Yes.”
I watch as he drapes his body next to mine. Sire. A name befitting him. Large. Shock of black hair. Kind dark eyes. Powerful. The stirring in my loins as I scan his body causes my member to twitch against me. But I do not feel shame. His hand comes to rest on my chest, and a kiss is placed on my shoulder. We lie in wait for the group. Whatever this ritual holds, it will be alright. Because Sire is here.
The heavy door creaks open, and in walks the most radiant woman I’ve seen. Darla. Sire. Smiling sweetly.
“Has the coupling begun?”
Her voice is like syrup, melting over me. She smiles into her words. I feel my body fill with adoration for her. She is power. Somehow I sense it. The purest of us all. Small, delicate frame… but there’s something intangible surrounding her. Something ancient. Formidable. She strides to the bed with a graceful ease. Cupping my face in her hand, she licks her lips and tilts her head while examining me.
“Well well well, you are the precious one.”
Her lips are so full, I want to press myself against them. I feel tears flood my eyes.
“Sire.”
And it’s hoarse, as I’m overcome by this torrent of emotion.
“There, there… what a lovely boy. These eyes should never know tears, my love. So blue… so very blue, they are.”
A sob bubbles up from my chest. I am drawn to her. This power… hypnotic. Her face hovers close to mine now, and I smell the scent of family on her so pure, so much… The ruby lips rest against mine, impossibly soft. Another sob, and I’m hers. I know. As I belong to the Master, I belong to the Sire.
“Angelus… he is darling. What a wonderful addition.”
“Ah, aye… but he loves ye, can ye feel it?”
“I do. Does he know we love him, too?”
“I’d venture ta say.”
“Does he understand what’s happening this evening?”
“Aye.”
Her soft face turns to mine again. When she speaks, her lips quiver around the words.
“Tell me, sweet love… what will take place for you?”
“I’m to be coupled with by Sire.”
“Yesss… very good, dearest.”
With her words, I can feel myself leak against my stomach. I want so much to show her. To be what she wants.
“Isn’t he a vision, Sire?”
Brother has slipped behind her, his hands fall to her tiny waist, where he plays with the strings from her bodice.
“My dear Penn… do you remember your night?”
“How could I forget?”
“I’ll save that in my memory eternally, beloved Childe.”
“As it will be in mine.”
Shared and easy laughter between them, and they are now kissing passionately. I do not wish to avert my eyes. I drink in his naked form pressed against her gown, his arousal being toyed with by those small delicate fingers. My hand, once again, reaching for the air, and Sire, pulling it to his member.
“There ye are. Feelin’ better, then?”
“Yes, thank you.”
His eyes close, and his head sways as if in a trance, inhaling me.
“May I play, too, Daddy?”
The childlike voice sings out. Turn to see this dark goddess, beautiful blackened almond eyes. She is lovely beyond words. She spins on her toes in a pirouette, and gestures towards the heavens with her arms outstretched.
“Of course, my little plum. We wouldn’t be after leaving you out.”
She giggles and claps, and climbs onto the large bed. She’s moving too quickly, and I recoil when her hand scratches at my leg. Burrow my head in Sires’ neck. This time, I do not suck, as I am contented to breathe him in deeply.
“Drusilla girl! Behave, or t’will be the corner you’ll be watchin’ from.”
“Yes, Daddy. Yes. I’m sorry, I’ll play quietly.”
“Now then, William is new. We mustn’t frighten him.”
“No. It upsets the birds in the air.”
“Of course it does, pretty. Now settle in.”
The bed creaks and groans from the weight of five bodies. I am still safe, nestled here in Sires’ neck.
“Well let’s see what we have, then.”
Darla. Sire. Turn my head to face her, and her eyes are scanning my nakedness, yet I do not feel exposed. She smiles at me appreciatively, and lifts my member into her hand. My body trembles at the delicate inspection, she twists and turns the throbbing muscle, pulling back the hood, and revealing a shiny and wet peak. I begin to pant. Her thumb gently sweeps away the liquid, and she brings the thumb to her lips, tasting me. Her eyes close as if she’s savoring it.
“Lovely, so rich, you are.”
“Lift his sac, Sire… you’ll enjoy the weight of it.”
“Mm, finely crafted, indeed.”
Those talented fingers roll me through this feather-light touch. I begin stroking hard against Sires’ member in order to release some of this tension.
“Lad… lad, ye slow down… Shh… calm yerself.”
“Sweet love… William, I’m going to part your legs now. Will you be still for me?”
“Yes, Sire…”
Her hands on my inner thighs, and I’m fighting against the urge to shiver, she presses them apart. I whimper, but do not move. I can hear Drusilla giggling and clapping and making delighted ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ sounds. Penn silences her by slipping a hand into her bodice, cupping and stroking at her breast beneath the fabric.
“Intact. Oh Angelus… You’ve picked one ripe for the plucking. Well done.”
“Many thanks, m’lady.”
“Draw his legs up, dear one.”
“As ye wish.”
Once again, my legs are folded and pressed against my chest. Darla is softly tickling around my exposed backside, and I break into whimpers. Her fingertips lightly tap, patting my tender flesh. I feel myself tighten in response.
“My love, you’ll adore being inside this one.”
He’s groaning. My Sire. Stirrings inside of me. Leaking. Fingers skitter about my rear, a nail lightly draws over me. Brother is fondling Drusilla, and watching the motions of Darla’s hand intently.
“Reveal her.”
A quiet command from behind me. Brother unlaces the fabric, and… Oh… Her breasts are small and pert. Tiny dark nipples punctuate the milk white skin. I’m sure, though I can not recall, that I’ve never seen a woman’s breasts. I’m breathing hard, and clenching my jaw.
“D’yer see them, William. Isn’t she a vision?”
“Quite, Sire… Quite.”
Brothers’ hands caress the lovely mounds and her head falls back to his chest. Those full lips part and whisper…
“Spss… spss… spss… The beasts in the field do clamor.”
“Aye, Princess.”
Does he understand her? Her beauty is astounding. I can not take my eyes from the sight of elegant fingers pinching and massaging their way through the creamed flesh. I feel my chest heaving in gulps of air. Sire’s hands continue tickling and working at me. I know not why I feel a throbbing where she touches. It wouldn’t seem a likely place to derive arousal from, yet I am. As Angelus instructed, I listen to my body respond. Close my eyes and relax into the sensation.
“That’s it, beautiful boy. Now you see.”
“May I?”
“Please, darling…”
I sense brother approaching… his fingers join hers in gentle exploration. Tickling against me. Delighting themselves.
“Splendid.”
“Marvelous, aye.”
“Wholly receptive.”
“Look how he tenses…”
“I see. Charming.”
Drusilla. Her dark hair spilled around her bared shoulders. She’s coming for me. Slithering towards me. Unearthly movements.
“May I taste him, Daddy?”
“Mind the teeth, Dru.”
“Yes, I will. May I?”
“Aye.”
And suddenly. So suddenly. Her mouth is on my backside, the fingers that moved away are replaced by her tongue. She’s purring like a cat and I’m groaning loud, and gripping Sire’s member. I throb there. I ache there. My own member bounces up and down on my belly. Long scrapes of her tongue and the sounds that are coming from my lips are inhuman. Close my eyes and see black wings behind the lids… black wings stretching out… spanning. Feathers… black feathers… Awakening from a deep sleep. Fluttering against me, folding me in.
“D’yer think he’d be ready, then loveliest?”
“Oh yes, watch him flower.”
“Little plum… prepare me for him.”
“Yes Daddy…”
Her voice is lilting, but her eyes glitter with excitement. My hand is removed from his organ. Drusilla is slathering his member with the oil they worked on me earlier. My knees still pressed to my chest, and the oil is poured over brother’s fingers, and Darla’s. Slippery, now. Three pairs of hands play along my rear. I feel myself opening to their touch. Throbbing … for what, I do not know. Aching… opening… unfolding… More… I long for more… and I whimper. Because I do not know what I’m longing for. Do not know what I’m crying for. Entrance? It wouldn’t seem so. It doesn’t seem quite fathomable. But I feel my hips rise, and try like mad to spread my legs farther.
“Oh, Angelus… Will you look?”
“I see…”
So breathy beside me… and his body moves away… More… More… Aching inside. Empty… Fill me… Fill me…
“Aye, lad…”
And am I begging? Am I pleading aloud? Am I imploring this fiend to open me further? I am. I am. Please… More. Open me. The fingers skitter away, and a quiet descends on the room. Quiet except for my open mouthed sobs… my pleading. I can hear my voice ringing out.
“Fill me… more… please, I beg of you…”
“Ah, William… I will, sweet one. Keep yerself open for me.”
I do. My body lifts, and I reach between my thighs to spread myself. For what? For him. For Sire. There is a bluntness at the site of my ache. Much larger than the fingers. Oh… this I need. This I crave. Open me. The pressure pushes forward, and I feel myself stretch. Relief hanging in the air. Walking the ledge. More. More. Stretching around. Discomfort is brief, through the pain, the pleasure sings to me. I listen. Listen hard. My body yielding. Slowly the intensity in my rear unwinds, and I feel thickness as I’ve never felt. Full, as I’ve ever felt. Complete, as I’ve ever felt.
“Sire…”
The word is sobbed out.
“Ah, but ye are… ye are mine, my Childe.”
Everywhere, his scent floods me. I can feel it slide over my flesh, as his fingers do.
“Oh… God…Ah… Sire.”
“Come alive, William. Come alive fer me.”
And he wants me to clench, and I clench. And he wants me to move, and I do. And my arms wrap tightly around him, and I move for him. Only for him. His body pushes me open, and seals me shut. His sex pulses within me. And I feel the ache inside me burning for him. Burning me. Rendering me. My knees pressed against his sides, supple flesh moves along them. His quiet words echo in my ears.
“My boy… my sweet boy. Give yerself to me.”
“I have. I am. I will.”
A vow.
“Eternally, my love.”
“For all time.”
His lips fall to my neck, as if by instinct. This act sends shivers and tremors through me. There is a piercing, and I’m crying out in pleasure. He drinks from me, he takes me in. The forms around the bed move quickly now. A woman’s hand comes into view. Long slender fingers on his shoulder. Dark ringlets spill across his back, and Drusilla is drinking from his shoulder. Brother is holding up her wrist, and his features are flickering until he shifts into the most magnificent beast, and he slices into her arm with blinding speed, his own extending to Darla… her features shift, and I feel myself swell… I swell, and ache… and the burning inside intensifies, and I feel the movement of blood beneath my skin. Darla is drinking from brother, and her arm extends to me. Inherently, I know. Bite into the offering… and everything fades to black.
The wings bat at my eyes. Seer. Vicious. Hypnotic. Power. Engraver. Passionate. Disregard. It’s them… it’s all of them. Sire. Strong. Lethal. Darla. Agile. Cunning. I’m one of them. I’m one of them. Their fluids flow through me in a circle. Each drink making me stronger. They’re bestowing their strengths to me. Gifting me with protection. With immunity. I am home. I am home. I am reborn. I am home. I am.
Part 2
I sit by the hearth, clothed, for the first time since I can remember. I am eleven days born. This is what Sire tells me. I’m observing. I don’t quite know what’s expected of me. This is the first time we’ve left Sire’s bed since our coupling began. The first time I’ve seen Drusilla since that night. I’d seen Darla, as she’d come in to offer us sustenance. Each time she’d enter, I’d quake, and feel Sire’s hearty laughter within me. He’s taken comfort in my body in every way imaginable. And I bathe in him. His scent, his brow, his touch, his lips.
The clothes I’m wearing feel strange. My skin feels imprisoned within the fabric. A mere two weeks ago, I’d have felt quite the opposite. But scores of things have changed between then and now. scores of things. Few questions were answered during our coupling. And I have countless questions, but where to begin?
Drusilla lies sprawled across Sire in the heavy armchair, and here - we are safe from all. He looks down on her in his lap, smiling. His hands teasing and tickling, caressing her face and playing with the laces on her dress. She reaches up to pull the tie from his hair, and watches as the loose strands frame his face. She’s giggling as he feigns annoyance at this, and tickles beneath her ribs.
Darla is sitting at the writing desk, scribbling furiously, and tapping her finger against the wood when they become too noisy. Sire raises his finger to his lips and makes a silent ‘shh’ behind the digit. Still smiling.
“Dearest. we’ll need to bring in the tailor for him. The garments must be readied by next Thursday.”
Sire continues looking into Drusilla’s eyes, caressing her face and smiling.
“Aye; the tailor.”
“Angelus, are you listening to me, boy?”
His head lifts briefly.
“I am.”
And drops again, to meet her gaze.
“You’ll spoil her.”
Her voice rings out, almost in song.
“I wouldn’t be dreamin’ of such a thing.”
Both Darla and Sire fall into laughter at his statement. I remain next to the fire. Not knowing what to do. I reach out to handle a log, and place it in the blaze. It’s large, heavy, and so thick with pitch, I would’ve required gloves to handle it before. before.
“Mind the flames, William.”
A spark flies out, and lands beside my foot.
“Yes. I’ll see to the fire.”
“Yer a Vampire, my boy. There are few things that can harm us, but fire is one of them. You’d do well to remember it.”
“I’m. I’m not certain I understand.”
Darla moves next to me, offering her hand. I swallow hard, lace my fingers with hers, and rise.
“Dear one, we mustn’t be careless around flames. They’re quite dangerous for the likes of us.”
She gestures for me to sit at a safe distance from the hearth. I take my position on the floor, and look up at her. My God, she’s remarkable. I feel a swelling behind my trousers, and quickly place my hands over my lap. It’s rather impossible for me to find speech when she’s nearby. My eyes fall to the floor covering. Her gentle laugh chimes through the room, and she returns to her desk. Once again, I’m seated alone, observing.
Drusilla is singing and demanding jam on bread and lemonade. I cannot be certain, but I believe I understand. She’s missed him. Missed Sire. He’s been gone eleven days. Gone from her. With me. I cannot begrudge them this time. I can only watch with fascinated interest as his large hands close around the fabric of her gown, and begin sliding the skirts up her soft legs. I trail my eyes to his face, searching for an expression. What I find is an intense gaze fixed firmly on me.
“Have ye ever seen a woman bared, William?”
There’s a lump in my throat, I gulp, and instantly my eyes glue themselves to the patterned rug at my feet.
“…Certainly not.”
His amusement is palpable, loud laughter, and I feel my toes curl in my shoes.
“Ye’d not be thinkin’ of shame in my company, now would ye?”
I know precisely what we’ve done! I know I’ll face eternal damnation for the acts we’ve performed!
“I’ve no interest in being humiliated in front of…”
I nod my head towards Darla, and he laughs again.
“Is it Darla’s nakedness ye wish to be seein’ then, lad?”
“Sire, please.”
“Alright, William. You should know now, ye’ll be tendin’ to all our needs, not just my own. I’d think you’d ‘ve lost some of that decency, in favor of satisfying yer urges.”
Darla taps her fingers on the desk, and offers Sire a glance.
“Angelus, it would seem you’ve taken pleasure in our newest, and taught him nothing beyond bringing you comfort.”
Sire shakes his head and grins.
“Aye, lass. But can ye be blamin’ me? Have a look at him.”
“I see him. and he’s lovely, and there’s no excuse for not allowing this darling creature the benefit of knowledge.”
“There’s no rush in it. Innocence. Like to be savorin’ these moments, if it pleases yer.”
“He’s not a plaything, Angelus. He’s a Vampire, who put his hand into a burning fire.”
“And t’was I who put a stop to it.”
“Yes, but would you have been quick enough, my love? Swift enough to save your flaming boy?”
“Woman, you should be aware, tis my very life I’d be givin’ fer that boy.”
“And if you were teaching him, it would never come to pass.”
The expression on Sire’s face is positively miserable. He says nothing, but stares at Darla with an intense look of grief.
“You know now what might have happened to the boy if that spark had landed on his clothes… you sitting across the room… the boy, still thinking he’s human and batting at the living coal with his bare hands.”
“Stop. Sire. I beg of you.”
He’s whispered, his lips are quivering and his hand is shaking, as he brings it to his brow. I want to run to him, and tell him I’m fine, and that he needn’t worry, and that I shall heed all of his warnings. Anything… as I don’t wish to see him this way… ever.
“Fine, I believe you understand what might occur if the boy is left uneducated. The ignorance could kill him.”
“Nah. nah. I’ll have none of that.”
His voice is small and shaking. He looks over at me.
“Could not bear to grieve yer loss, Childe. Come to me, William.”
And I do. I move with speed I’ve never known. Move to his side. Kneel at his feet, his hands cup my head, and he places it on Drusilla’s stomach. I close my eyes, and feel his fingers winding through my hair.
“I’ll do anything you bid, Sire. I’m sorry, I’ll not be careless around flames again.”
“Tis my fault, William. Tis my fault.”
“No.”
“Shh, lad. Yer but a pup, and you need me to educate ye. Tis precisely what I’ll be doin’ from here on.”
I haven’t any idea what to say. The room is silent, but for the crackle of the fire, and Drusilla’s humming. It’s quite curious, as I am somehow able to sense emotions from my new family. With my eyes closed, I can concentrate on the scents. Drusilla smells like a field of wild flowers, confusion and lavender. Pins and feathers and all manner of bewilderment. The lace from her gown scratches my face when she shifts. Her hands join Sire’s in twisting through my hair. A sharp nail scrapes at the back of my neck, and the arousal it brings. Dear God. The arousal it brings is spicy and rich, and it’s my scent. My scent.
“I see you,” she sings. “You and your baby fishes, and your glowing wonderful mess!”
She lifts my head and sits up on Sire’s lap.
“Are you a Maharaja? From Sri Lanka?”
“I’m William, the newest.”
“I know, silly! William, the newest Maharaja from Sri Lanka!”
“You smell like a meadow.”
I tell her. And she does. Like the scent of sun scorched wild flowers on a summer afternoon. She regards me with a tilt of her head.
“Are there dollies in my meadow?”
“Yes.”
“Will you wear heavy robes lined in gold for me?”
“Whatever you desire.”
I haven’t any idea what she sees, and why she would think me a Maharaja, but it seems to pacify her. She leans back against Sire’s chest and stretches her arms out to her sides.
“Good girl, yerself. Mustn’t suppress yer delight for him. Bare yerself to his eyes, lass.”
And with finely tapered fingers, she clutches tightly at her gown and begins to lift the skirts. I am crouched, and staring into Sire’s face with what must be an expression of panic. It must be, as he’s reaching around her and stroking my face to calm me.
“I’ve. I’ve never.”
“Of that, I have no doubt, lad.”
I twine my fingers with his, in hopes that he’ll guide me through this gently. He nods. It strikes me now at the peculiarity of our situation. He seems to know what’s in my head at any given moment, and he responds to it, as if I’d voiced it aloud. But the brush of her skirt against my arm catches my attention, and now I’m staring in awe at her bared knees. Higher, the fabric slides higher. I’m graced with a view of majestic thighs. and higher. higher, and a patch of soft black curls. and I’m feeling an ember burn brightly in my stomach. I feel like clutching myself and curling onto the ground, but I remain. Sire’s fingers tighten against mine, and she drapes her legs on either side of his. I pant, I breathe, and though Sire says it’s not necessary, I beg to differ. I do believe it is. Very much, it is.
“William. The newest Maharaja from Sri Lanka.”
She giggles in a voice so like a child that I’m forced to look into her face to be certain it’s still her. It is. In grand form, it is. A wet pink tongue glides over parted lips, and her head falls forward, her chin against her chest, and now back again.
“Is there a tiger in your garden, Maharaja?”
“Yes.”
I pant out, and it seems to thrill her, as she begins the most lascivious undulating on Sire’s knee.
“Is he golden with black spots?”
“He has stripes.”
Her face scrunches into a look of dissatisfaction.
“I prefer spots!”
“Spots, it is.”
“Will you have your groomsmen paint them for me?”
“I will.”
“Will you taste me, Maharaja?”
Sire’s hand pulls me towards them, and I have no idea what I’m to do. Taste her. where? There? But she’s moving. And I’m aching in my groin. I look up again, to see her face. Lashes. Sharp as polished blades, rest against her porcelain cheeks. And her endowments, placed before me in a manner for me to savor, and I do. Place my lips against the softest flesh I’ve felt, allow my tongue to venture out and taste the sleek saltiness I find there. Her moans are quiet and hesitant as I move to her inner thigh, Sire’s hand still squeezing my own. Higher. Higher. The moans are louder now, and a hand is resting against my neck, scraping fingernails that send shivers down my spine. Without hesitation, I bury my mouth against the hungering mound of sweet wetness, pressing forward, and my tongue laps at the small swelling hidden beneath these lush curls. And Oh, I ache. I ache for her. As her hips twist and grind against me. My eyes close, and I try to breathe her in. Wildflowers. I’ll never forget this scent. My tongue moves rapidly now, pressing and flicking against her. The nails no longer scratch against my neck, they dig deeply into the flesh, and I’m moaning into her wetness. Moaning and licking and drinking her in.
“That’s it, dear lad. Would ye like to be takin’ her, then?”
I pull my head away, and this hunger within me is burning so bright. I wish to feast upon her. The most delicious dish my palate has ever known. She’s sobbing now, and clawing at my neck, pulling me forward again.
“Drusilla! Mind yerself! He might be a Maharaja, but he’s still our newest, an’ ye’ll bring no harm, girl.”
“Daddy, daddy,” she moans, “I’m twisting inside.”
“Aye, ye are, lovely. Give our William a moment, an’ he’ll be tendin’ to yer hunger.”
“What am I to do, Sire?”
“Precisely what I’ve done to you, lad. Can ye manage this?”
“On my own?”
“Aye, trust yer instincts, boy. Ye’ll be fine.”
“I want you there.”
“As ye wish, my pup.”
I rise, and pull Drusilla to stand before me. The skirts fall around her legs once again, concealing them. I want nothing more than to bare her. To bend myself between her thighs, and greedily kiss her wetness for a second time. I cannot turn to see Darla, as I would be overcome by the hunger for her, so I move us into the next room without looking at the stunning blonde perched behind the desk.
“William, ye’ll be satisfyin’ yer lust for Darla soon enough, lad. Tend to our Princess, aye?”
He’s telling me to savor the one I’m in the company of. How I’m able to decipher his message is but a puzzle to me. Instinctively, I know. Instincts. Trust my instincts. And my instincts tell me to shed myself of these clothes that scratch at my skin. They tell me to unlace the bodice of this beauty who provokes such enticements from deep within my being. They tell me to kneel before Sire, and unbutton his trousers, to slide them down these noble legs, to lift and pull at the shirt that conceals his broad chest. Until we are bare, we three.
“Come dance in the meadow with me, Maharaja.”
As I watch her slink along the bedclothes, one finger hooked and calling to me. This beauty with the eternal treasures of youth so victoriously displayed for me. For me.
“Lie with her, William.”
My Master commands, his hand on the small of my back, gently urging me forward. Forward to this flesh that seamlessly moves like animated snow. Her dark ringlets spilling across the linens, her eyes glittering in anticipation. And when my hands finally caress against her thighs, she mewls like a feline being petted, and parts them for me.
“Take yer pleasure in her, lad.”
The soft whisper against my neck causes me to tremble. I feel his large hand covering my sex, and guiding me towards her. Forward, and forward. Closer, until the distance is closed and I am flush against her wetness. The hand moves to my backside and presses down hard. And, Oh. Oh. This wetness is closing around me, and I could complete myself with only a fraction of movement. I pause, and I shake, and the hand presses harder. The thighs beneath me move further apart. Impossibly far, and I’m sinking into this sheath, so soft and damp. My eyes close and I’m plummeting into her with a triumphant thrust. I cannot move. I cannot. For if I were to move, this would all be over. And I don’t want this to be over. This should last eternally.
“Part yer legs, William.”
In suspended arousal, my legs part, and the hand that pushed me forward is now caressing my own access. Small touches, feather light. My head falls to the soft mounds of her breasts, and I’m holding her tightly and lapping at her bosom.
“Dance with me. Look into my eyes, deary; dance with me.”
I lift my head and suddenly I see her, and we are in that meadow. The meadow with the sun scorched flowers, and she’s lying in the tall grass beneath me. My body rocks forward and the tall blades of weeds lash at my skin. We’re moving together, dancing with the rhythm of our bodies. I watch her writhe and glide along my sex. Each stroke within her brings more scratches from the wild flowers and grass. I’m flexing and pumping with every ounce of power within me, and she’s calling out to me. begging for more. More. I give her more, and pummel my hips against her yielding flesh. I’m gasping and moaning, and Sire’s here. and my backside is stretched and readied for his entrance. There is slickness against me, in my front, in my rear. and I twist in it. I twist and I turn, and I whimper, and I plead, and I beg. The thrusting continues as I feel the familiar heavy weight of my Sire mounting me. I pause in the meadow to allow the heightening of this sensation, when the full and thick shaft of my Master enters me. The killing sweetness threads through my body and I’m flooding her… flooding her… filling her with the agony of my bliss. Filling her and she’s laughing and clamping her legs around me, and tightness. Oh Lord… tightness around my length, in pulses and spasms. and I’m breathing again.
“Ah, William… ah, love. Move, lad. Like this again, lad. For me, don’t be stopping now, boy.”
And I move and feel him thudding against my rear in shuddering jerks. The coolness of his release coating me, bathing me, drowning me.
“My boy. My boy.”
“He’s our Maharaja.”
We are no longer in the meadow. We are on Drusilla’s bed, and our limbs tangled in a mess of flesh and sweat. My body sings in calmness and satisfaction. I don’t want to leave this place.
“But this is only the beginning, lad. I’ve much to show ye.”
He pulls me from Drusilla and curls his body around mine.
“You’ve given me so much, Sire.”
“And I’ll be givin to ye eternally, William.”
I can find no words of thanks. Nothing that could possibly bring justice to how I feel. I pull his hand to my mouth and kiss the fingertips.
“Ye have no need for words, William. and ye have no need for thanks. Ye belong here, with me.”
“I belong to you.”
An affirmation.
“Aye, and we to you.”
Part 3
The tailor has scarcely gone with his measurements. I stand, straightening my garments, and ponder what this Naming holds. From what Sire tells I assume it’s to be some sort of gathering where I’m introduced to others of my kind. William the newest Vampire in the Order of Aurelius. Calls to some nature of aristocracy. Though it sounds rather preposterous listening to Drusilla singing it throughout our home.
Last night I slept between Sire and Darla. She curled behind me, held me tight to her chest, and drifted off to sleep. She was exhausted from the Naming preparations and a problematic hunt. I wanted to touch her, the way I touched Drusilla. I ached in my groin, an unmercifully painful erection pressed against my stomach. Instead, I remained paralyzed in her arms. When Sire finally lay beside us, he took one long breath and shook his head. ‘Ye have much to learn, William,’ he whispered, and began stroking me until I completed in his hand. It was only then that I could find rest.
I feel, rather than hear, Sire enter the room. His strong hands find their way to my waist, and he leans against me.
“Good boy, yerself.”
I shift back against him, and tilt my head to the side, hoping his lips will play along my neck.
“What is it you’d be wantin’, lad?”
“Anything you’d give, Sire.”
“Yer a giving boy, my pup. Always giving.”
“Is this not what you desire?”
The arms around me tighten, and I feel his firmness pressed against me.
“Yer very aware of what I desire, my boy. But what does my William desire, then?”
“You.”
It’s true. For all the hunger that burns for Darla, the passion that smolders for Drusilla, the thirst I hold for Penn… it’s Sire’s touch that thrills me, that comforts me. His touch that brings me this delirium of pleasure.
“Ye’d be speakin’ the truth, wouldn’t ye then?”
“To be sure.”
“Tis the very idea that yer bein’ used as comfort that entices ye?”
Well, I hadn’t considered why. That answer sounds sufficient enough. But shouldn’t I feel shame for such wanton thoughts? A longing to be treated as some common whore?
“I don’t know.”
“You’d be in a position to tell me, now wouldn’t ye, Childe.”
“I would… if I knew, myself.”
“But you do, William.”
“Honestly, Sire…”
“Do you trust me, lad?”
“I do.”
“Then do not fear shamin’ yerself before me.”
“I’m not… I merely wish…”
“To be regarded as my concubine? My courtesan… my whore?”
The sound of these words whispered out against my ear… The arousal… I place my hand over his and move it to my clothed member.
“Is that what, William? Wish to be offerin’ yerself up to me? To be exploited?”
“Yes.”
“From all of us?”
“Only you.”
“Aye. Always?”
He turns me to face him. I lower my head in disgrace. My confession looming over me. His hand lifts my chin, and I meet his eye.
“Always, William?”
His eyes aren’t condemning me. They’re gentle and inviting. As though he’s merely attempting to be clear on what it is that I long for.
“Not always… just…”
“But you could never truly be my whore, William. Surely, yer aware, you have my heart beguiled.”
“And what we do?”
“Tis but a sport, lad.”
“Where will I stand with you in the morrow?”
“Ye’ll put those fears to rest straight away. I’ll always love you, William. Of that, you can be sure.”
“I understand. And my love for you will be eternal, as well.”
His eyes close, and his hands caress my face. The expression he holds is almost sadness.
“What is it, Sire? I’m sorry. What have I done?”
“Ah, boy. Tis the first time ye’ve voiced this.”
“But you’ve known! You must have known! All along, you’ve known!”
“Shh, lad. I’ve known. Only delightin’ in the words now, if it pleases yer. Tis a powerful moment, you see.”
“I do, Sire. I do love you. With all my heart, I do.”
“Say it again, William. I fear my ears are playin’ tricks on me.”
He smiles and leans into me, his nose brushing my cheek.
“I love you, Angelus.”
“Once more.”
“I love you, for all time.”
“Ah, against what I’d be wishin’ at this very moment, I’ll take you the way ye’d be wantin’.”
“Tell me…”
“Time enough for that later, boy. Display yerself for me.”
His arms drop from around me, thumbs hooking into the front of his trousers, and he takes a step back. Regarding me. Viewing me, as I slide the fabric down my legs, and begin to unbutton my shirt.
“You wouldn’t be after wastin’ my time, now would ye?”
“No, I…”
“Expose yerself… offer yerself to me.”
Closing my eyes, I shiver with the excitement that pulses into my sex at his words. The shirt I wear is split down the front, and cast to the floor, and I stand before him bared. With a tilt of his head, and a finger placed thoughtfully on his lips, he observes my nakedness.
“Show me what I paid for, lad.”
Turning away, I climb onto the bed, position myself on my knees and press my face to the coverlet. Random sensations echo through me, and Sire closes in. His hand against my rear, pulling me open, fingers tweak around my entrance, settle with a hard pinch… and I yelp, with the bliss of it.
“This belongs to me. You’ll be worthy of yer earnings this eve, won’t ye?”
“I will…”
My lips brush the bedclothes when I speak. My voice is frayed, and breathy… Sire provoking enticements from deep within me. I tremble beneath the heat of his stare. I cannot see his eyes, but I sense them on me.
“I’m not able to set eyes on enough of you, boy. Expose the only place I’d care to be seein’, now.”
Reaching my hands behind me, I grip my backside, and part myself to his eyes. A strangled moan, and I can feel him composing himself.
“Oh, a perfect little whore, ye are.”
My member twitches, and throbs, I ache in my access, and pull myself further apart.
“That’s a greedy little hole ye have there, William. Already clenchin’ for me.”
“Ah, Angelus…”
I moan as he slides a finger across me. Crane my head to the side, and get a view of him.
“Don’t be gawkin’ at me, boy.”
Bury my head in the bedclothes again, and breathe in deep. I can smell him here. That fragrance of delicious, musky spice fills me with desire. His scent… the most potent aphrodisiac.
“Tell me, William… does this bring you the excitement? The pleasure, in being the one with easy virtue…”
“Yes…”
I’m groaning and thrusting against empty air. I feel oil being spilled over my rear, and powerful fingers working into me.
“Are you aware of what a man does when in the company of a whore, lad?”
“No…”
“He uses that fallen soul… takes his pleasure, with no regard for satisfying the one he’s with.”
Breathing, and my mouth waters… I wet my lips with my tongue and stifle a moan.
“Would that be your wish, then?”
“Yes…”
And it sounds strangled and fractured. The thrill of this position courses through me. The sparks I felt prickling my skin on my first night have returned. The oil on my backside makes it impossible for me to keep myself open for him. A steady hand falls on my rear with a loud smack, and I wince and groan around the pain.
“Mind yerself.”
I dig my fingers into the flesh, and hold as tight as I can. I feel the fabric from his trousers against the back of my thighs, and the bluntness of his member pressed against my opening.
“Be still.”
His sex pierces me with one victorious pump. My body is trembling, and I’m openly sobbing. With hard vicious thrusts, his hips pummel against my rear. The hands on my own hips grip tightly and I’m crying out in pleasure. Moaning his name, calling out for more. I struggle to keep myself still for him. But this lust for him is burning like an ember embedded in my chest… and I can’t help but wish to press back against him… to glide along his sex… to feel his heavy sac swinging against my own.
“That’s it, boy… still… keep still for me.”
“Sire… more… please…”
“Ah, lad. Shh, wouldn’t do to be hearin’ yer voice now.”
A hand covers my mouth, and the other reaches around my hip to toy with my sac. I kiss the fingers against my lips. Kiss them. Wet them with my tongue. Moan against them in appreciation.
“Yer aware I’m holdin’ yer sac because it pleases me. This isn’t for you, lad. It brings me comfort. Pleases my fingers, so it does.”
And so many words escape my lips, only to be muffled by the large hand on my face. The freedom to lose myself here is unparalleled. Everything I keep inside, and tucked away is liberated against these fingers. The words, the kisses… the words… use me… use me… use me.
“Ah, no. That little muscle inside is provokin’ me, boy.”
I’m losing myself in the sensations. Sensations of an ocean quenching a parched and cracked earth. The arc of his sex thumping within me. The wetness from my kisses on his hand, as fingertips caress my cheeks. The rough coverlet scratching my forehead, as each of his thrusts drive me further into the bed.
“Needin’ my release, William. Pull that pretty cock o’ yours, milk me with yer pleasure.”
Instantly my hand is on my erection, gripping and fisting along the curve. Begging and pleading against these fingers. Oh God. My sac drawing up against my knuckles… and I feel us plunge together in a transport of taste and sight and sound. The wetness spreading across my fingers, and soaking me inside. Twisting and squirming, we writhe together in suspended completion until the rigorous thrusting shifts into long languorous pumps. The hand releasing my mouth, and the body of my Master slumps atop my own.
“Are you all right, my pup?”
Soft lips press against the back of my neck, and his sex slips from within me.
“I am.”
“Would you like to be joinin’ the ladies now?”
“Where has Penn gone?”
“Off to collect yer shoes for the Naming. Our Darla, a very particular lass, herself. T’wouldn’t do havin’ her boys clothed in anything less than the finest, if yer don’t mind.”
He laughs and runs a hand through his hair.
“Will you take me out on the hunt tonight?”
“Not until after the Naming, lad. Till then, you’ll carry on takin’ yer nourishment from us four.”
“What transpires after the Naming?”
“Yer recognized in our Order. A Vampire that hunts without a name is surely doomed to a brutal end.”
“But I have a name… William.”
“Aye, lad, but ye do. William of Aurelius. Tis but a formality, you see.”
I grin at him, and pull myself onto his chest.
“Certainly has a superior ring than ‘William the Bloody Awful Poet’.”
Suddenly, his expression is dark. Eyebrows push together and his jaw clenches.
“Exactly who would it be that called you that, boy?”
I raise my thumb to his brow, and smooth out the furrow.
“It’s of no importance now.”
His large hands rest on either side of my face, and he regards me seriously.
“Tis of great importance to me.”
“It was only meant to provoke me. I didn’t pay it much mind.”
“Aye, provoke you. I see. Perhaps we need to pay them a visit.”
Bury my head in his neck, and breathe him in. I don’t wish to remember what I was. What I am is all that matters now.
“Is yer belly empty, my boy?”
“Yes.”
“Take yer nourishment, then. Let the feed come upon ye.”
Carefully I pierce his flesh, and draw him in. I feel his hands slide down my flanks and settle on my backside.
“Ah, that’s a good lad.”
He whispers, as his fingers slowly enter me, and begin stroking softly. I moan quietly, and continue drinking him in.
“William… ah boy, what you do to me. Could die, starving from the hunger for you, so I could.”
My teeth retract, and I’m licking and lapping at the swiftly closing holes in his flesh. The sounds of contentment reverberate in my chest.
“Come now, lets get ye washed. Wouldn’t do to have you runnin’ about in yer pelt.”
“I would have thought you preferred me in this state.”
He’s answering my grin with a hearty laugh, and pulling me to lie beside him.
“You’re insatiable, my little devil.”
“I am?”
“Don’t be playin’ coy with me, William…”
“I am.”
And we’re laughing together now. Laughing and rolling about the bed. Blankets bunching under our fingers, as we play at trying to catch one another. There is a knocking at the doorframe, both of us peeking from under the covers to catch sight of Darla standing at the entrance.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Ah, lass. I merely came in to see to the lad’s state of dressing.”
“I dare say you’ve seen to his undressing quite well, Angelus. It certainly is a testament to your restraint where he’s concerned.”
“Join us?”
She smiles so sweetly, I do believe I’m in danger of my skin turning to puddles at her feet.
“I would, but I’m a bit troubled at the moment.”
“What is it, Darla?”
“Penn…”
Sire bolts upright and stares at her.
“Spit it out, lass. What’s happened?”
“Drusilla is balled on the floor, crying for him. Sobbing his name over and over again.”
“Lets move, boy.”
With blinding speed I’m dressed and trailing behind Sire and Darla through the narrow hallway.
“PennPennPennPennPenn”
Drusilla is in a convulsive fit on the ground, clutching her head and rocking. Sire crouches beside her, and strokes her shoulder.
“Pretty, pretty lass. Sh, now. What is it that has you so saddened?”
“PennPennPennPenn”
I feel Darla’s hand on my elbow, her eyes look uneasy, the other hand fluttering to her brow.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, William.”
She’s offering comfort, but I can smell her apprehension. Sire looks up at Darla, his eyes dark, his mouth in a tight line. For the first time, I’m frightened. Chilled to the bone. Something’s happened. Something horrific.
There is a scratching at the door, and Darla races to open it. Penn comes tumbling in, the front of his coat drenched in blood, and he’s gripping his chest. In an instant, we are all beside him. Darla holding him tightly against her, as tears flood her face.
“What happened, my boy. My Penn. What’s happened to you? Darla, woman, move yer hands now! Now! I can’t see! Open his coat… What’s happened, boy? Ah, God!”
Sire’s hand is on Penn’s chest, and the misery etched on his face is clear.
“Who did this to you?”
“He’s too weak to answer, Angelus! Look! He’s barely made it home!”
Her hand raises to his mouth, and he’s drinking from her wrist. She’s still sobbing, and I’m shifting from foot to foot, and reaching out to touch his hair. Sire is pacing and he punches the wall. The windows rattle under the force of the blow.
“This isn’t helping, Angelus!”
But her voice is so filled with emotion that it’s barely audible. Dru has wrapped herself around Penn’s ankles and she’s humming his name.
Part 4
“Angelus…”
She’s whispered through shaking lips. Sire turns to face her.
“I’ll see to this, Sire. Tis my vow.”
She nods, and lifts her wrist from Penn’s mouth.
“Penn, can you speak?”
His mouth is covered in blood, and I’m not able to tell whether it’s his or Darla’s… it smells like both. I feel my face shift, and this beast within… this spirit… this God… it’s rioting in my system. The compulsion to rend, to obliterate is coursing through me. I feel wild, and untamed. A primitive fury inside screams out to me.
“Lusceans.”
He manages. And this only serves to infuriate me further. I hear the liquid bubbling through his words, and the sounds of him struggling to swallow. His mouth opens and closes, as though he’s gasping for air.
“How many, boy?”
“Four.”
The world is fading to shades of red for me. I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s as though some viper has taken over my very being.
“Annihilate three, send one home with a message, and his brothers’ entrails as trimming.”
“Drusilla girl. Stand.”
“I want to come, too!”
I growl, and I can’t believe it’s my voice!
“William. Ah, boy. You need to be with Darla, now. No arguments. Help her tend to Penn, aye?”
“Sire… I must.”
“Your Penn needs you here, lad. See to his wants. I’ll return shortly.”
I watch as the pair disappear into the night, and turn from the door when I can no longer see them. Darla is seated on the floor, with Penn’s body across her lap, she’s feeding him. Feeding him and sobbing quietly. In his hand, he’s gripping a pair of bloodied shoes, and now I’m sobbing. I crouch next to them and replace the shoes with my hand. He gives me a weak squeeze.
“Be well, brother.”
Is all I can think to say. I want to strip him of these soaked clothes, and clean the crimson from around his face and neck. I want that bloody hole in the middle of his chest to close! I can’t bear to look at his crumpled form any longer, I raise my eyes to Darla’s face. The draining is wearing on her. Her mouth is quivering and her eyes are closed tight. He’s pushing her hand away, and she’s struggling to return it to his lips.
“I’m fine, Sire. That’s all I need.”
“It’s not fine, Childe. I’ll not have you protesting this.”
“All is well.”
He turns his face in her lap, and she’s stroking his drenched hair. He won’t take more than she can give, I understand this. I will give him what I have. I offer him my wrist, and behind the redness, he smiles and places a gentle kiss on my exposed flesh. There is a choked sob coming from Darla.
“You’ll take his blood, Childe. It’s as precious as the offering itself.”
He kisses my wrist again, and softly nicks the flesh. The tender sucking I feel is serving to calm me. He doesn’t take much. He releases me, and quietly licks the wound closed.
“Undress him, William.”
Gently she lifts his head from her lap, and places it on the rug. I watch as she leaves the room, now returning my attention to my brother. I lean over him, and press my lips to his.
“Please be well.”
I whisper against his mouth.
“All is well, little brother.”
And I begin to undress him. Carefully, I remove the bloodied clothes from his form. The hole in his chest is almost closed, and for that I’m thankful. Darla has returned with his nightshirt, some cloths, and a bowl of warm water. Together we wring the water over him, cleansing him, and I watch as the water stains pink and red in the white bowl each time we dunk our cloths. We’ve finished with his cleansing, and we’re gently dressing him in his nightclothes. His large grey eyes look tired and heavy, sunken into his face.
“William, will you bring his bed into my room, sweet love?”
“Yes, Darla.”
I run, rather than walk, into his room, and pull the bed from the frame. I’m halfway down the narrow hall before I realize how easy this is for me. This heavy bed feels weightless in my fingers. Light and manageable. I spare but a moment to ponder this, as I look up to see Darla cradling Penn’s body in her arms and walking down the hall towards me. Cradling him. Carrying him. He’s a full-grown man!
“Place it beside my bed, darling.”
I realize I’m gawking. But she’s so very small! I shake my head, and attempt to compose myself. Drag the bed along the floor and place it next to hers.
“Thank you, William.”
We settle him in with pillows and covers, soft words and tender kisses over his face.
“Are you comfortable brother?”
“I am.”
“Would you like me to bring you anything?”
His eyes begin to close, and he drifts off to sleep. I move to the edge of Darla’s bed, and watch him sleep. The overwhelming protectiveness I feel over him has me a bit stunned. But I refuse to allow anything to touch him. So I sit here, guarding him.
“William, your nightshirt.”
I nod, never taking my eyes from him. I dress in the shirt and return to my position on the bed.
“Get some rest.”
She whispers against my neck. I lie next to her, still facing Penn.
“Everything will be alright. Sire and Drusilla will return soon, William. Close your eyes.”
“What is a Luscean?”
“An Order we were allied with… until this very eve.”
“Why would they bring harm to brother?”
“I haven’t an answer for that.”
“Do you… Will… Are Angelus and Drusilla going to be alright?”
“Sh, they’re fine, my love. Sleep now.”
“But… Angelus…”
“Bears the title ‘The Scourge of Europe’ for a reason, dearest.”
“I see.”
I don’t, but I tell her I do, because I want her to find rest, and I want to watch over Penn. I leave my eyes open a crack so that I can see him. When he twitches, I twitch. When he moves, I do. Darla is heavy behind me, her weight rested against my back, her hand loosely hanging over my waist. I hear the heavy front door creak open, and the sounds of Sire’s footsteps moving through the hall. I sniff the air in the room, willing to bring him nearer. He enters and Darla sits up.
“Is it done, Childe?”
“Aye, Sire.”
“Did you send the warning?”
“I did.”
“Where is Drusilla?”
“She’s gone to her room.”
“Call her in. Tonight we rest as one.”
“Aye.”
Darla pulls me into the middle of the bed. I’m still pretending to be asleep. I want everyone to settle in, and I will continue my watch over us all.
“You called for me, Grand-Mummy?”
“You’ll sleep in here, lovely.”
“May I sleep in the chair with my dollies?”
“Of course.”
There is a flurry of activity, but I do not open my eyes. I hear Sire return, and feel the bed sink with his weight as he comes to rest beside me. His naked legs brush against my own, and I’m struggling to keep still. He’s lying on his side and turning me onto mine, my back against his chest, and in this position, I cannot see to Penn!
“My boy, how did he fare?”
“He’s weakened… and so pale, Angelus… so pale.”
“Sh, lass.”
He reaches around me now, and I can hear her gown being caressed.
“You’ll wake him, Angelus.”
“Aye.”
His hands hook under my arms, and he lifts me to Darla’s embrace. I open my eyes to see hers, filled with tears.
“Sh, sleep. Sleep, beautiful boy.”
“Don’t cry.”
I tell her. I’ll protect you, I want to say…
“You’re too young, William. Too young to be exposed to this.”
“He’ll have his year, Darla.”
Sire promises her. My year? I dare not ask, for all I wish is to offer her comfort. To dry her eyes, and feel her laughter fill my ears again.
“Sleep.”
She’s hugging me close to her chest, and raining kisses into my hair. I still myself, and resume feigning sleep. Sire chuckles behind me, and cups my rear.
“Sleeping Vampires shouldn’t waggle their little backsides so.”
“Angelus, leave him be. This has been a traumatic evening for all of us, especially him.”
“Ah, lass. As you wish.”
Between the pair of them, I wait. Wait until I feel Sire roll heavy towards me, and Darla lie flat on her back. I listen to the room. Drusilla is curled on the chair next to the door. I hear her clothes brush the fabric as she turns to reposition herself. There is stirring where Penn lies, and I listen very hard now. The stirring has stopped, and I’m lifting my head over Sire’s shoulder to peek down on Penn. He’s lying there, on his back, I can see the shadow of his hair on the pillows, and his face looking serene and peaceful. Satisfied, I lie again between Darla and Sire.
Again, a gentle rustling in Penn’s area, and once more, I poke my head over Sire’s shoulder to get a view of him. He’s still there, shifted to his side now. Yet again, I position myself on the bed.
Moments have passed, and I’m beginning to feel the draw of sleep calling to me. One last glimpse, before I succumb. I look over to Penn, who’s still on his side.
“I can see you, you know, William.”
“It wasn’t my intent to wake you. I’m sorry.”
“You did not wake me, brother. And why haven’t you found rest?”
“I… I’m…”
“Are you keeping vigil over us?”
“Yes.”
“Then come down, William. We’ll watch together.”
Carefully I crawl from beneath the covers. Darla’s hand slips from my stomach, and onto the bed. I watch Sire move closer to her as I vacate my space between them. The boards creak under my feet as I walk to Penn. He’s lifting the covers, and gesturing for me to lie beside him.
“Are you quite sure?”
“I am.”
I lie on my side, facing him. He offers me a smile, and I inspect his face for traces of what took place. I see nothing out of place, nothing at all that would indicate he’d suffered an attack. Nothing but the familiar wide grey eyes, the gentle slope of his bottom lip, the defined curve of his jaw.
“What has you so troubled, brother?”
“Why did they harm you?”
“There was no explanation given.”
“Will they return?”
“Angelus has sent the message. All is well, now.”
“But… they might come here. Looking for us. For revenge.”
He laughs confidently, and runs a hand through my hair.
“William, they’d be fools to enter this lair.”
“What would stop them?”
“We’re descendants of a very powerful and respected Order, brother. Darla, the purest, direct successor of the Master himself. Angelus, recognized as the most brutal and savage killer, often identified as ‘The Scourge of Europe’. Drusilla, even at her young age, she’s one of the most vicious creatures I’ve ever seen.”
“And you, brother?”
“The Engraver.”
He whispers as his thumb gently draws a cross against my cheek. My sex pulses at the light caress, and I’m batting these thoughts away. He needs time to heal. I feel guilt over these desires when he’s in this state.
“Ease your mind. Closed, you see?”
He’s opened his nightshirt, and I see the small indentation in the center of his chest. The skin has covered over the opening. I lean into him, and softly kiss the disappearing wound.
“Will you rest now?”
“I will.”
I turn away from Penn, and feel his body wrap around mine. I find his hand against my stomach, and hold it. I stroke at the tips with my fingers, drawing the pad over his nail, and down to the knuckle.
“William…”
“I’m sorry… I’m keeping you from sleep.”
“Do you need something before rest, brother?”
“Please.”
He pulls his hand from mine, and reaches under my nightshirt for my member. I groan quietly as he closes his fist around my length. Slowly, his hand glides along me, his lips against my shoulder and I feel the puff of breath as he moans out. I crave to feel full from him, the way I feel with Angelus. I lift my leg over his, offering my access to him. The fist tightens around me, and I’m pressing back towards him with great urgency. The hand on my member moves to my thigh, and delicately pushes my leg from his. The fingers move to my entrance, and softly caress the ache there. I’m breathing now, and arching back against those talented fingers, begging him to insert them.
“Oh God, William… not now, dear boy. Not now.”
I bite my lip hard to suppress my desire. He needs to heal. Needs to mend himself. His hand returns to my groin, and he strokes me with hard, efficient little tugs. I feel the passion mounting, and I thrust forward into his closed fist. My eyes shut and I’m imagining him driving himself into me. Imagining myself laid out before him and spread wide for his sex. Imagining… and the muscles in my belly tighten, and my sac draws up, and I’m lurching forward now… lurching and spilling and gasping out my pleasure in pulses and throbs. His hand draws down me slower now, collecting my spent wetness and bringing it to his lips.
“Like the taste of life, you are.”
He moans, tasting me from his fingers. I turn my head to kiss him, I can taste myself on his mouth. The softest lips against my own. He pulls away and breathes me in deep.
“Find sleep now, brother. Rest well.”
Settling my head on the pillow, his arm returns to fall around my waist, his body pressed against my back and legs. I close my eyes, and feel the nagging draw of sleep pulling me in. I will keep them safe, I tell myself. All of them.
Part 5
Darla woke me in the early afternoon. She had fluttered about, combing my hair, arranging my garments. She’d smiled, much like she’s smiling right now. Her lips curved upwards, just at the corners. She was grand, in her gown with the billowy skirts. And I was anxious, as she’d kissed my fingers, kissed my brow. Told me the Naming would be a splendid celebration of my arrival, and that I shouldn’t fret so. I’d looked to Angelus, and he’d given me a knowing grin.
When the sun lay down, we’d set off through the streets on foot, Angelus to my right, and Darla to my left, with her arm hooked through mine. Penn and Drusilla followed closely behind.
Suffering over the lovely smells, I breathed in deep as young lovers passed us. I turned my head in ecstasy, savoring their scent. An old woman carrying a sack, and I opened my mouth to taste her on the air. A telegram boy on a bicycle, the sweetest smell of sweat lingering around him. I lost pace at the headiness of his aroma. Darla tugged on my arm, smiled sweetly, and asked if I’d fancy a telegram boy. I nodded in response, and she’d promised my first hunt would be a boy on a bicycle, finishing up his evening rounds.
We arrived at an impressive ballroom where I was ushered to my seat. And here I sit, in a stately chair, flanked by my new family. I watch as the guests filter into the room. Everyone in their finest, milling about, making idle chatter, and assembling themselves just out of earshot from me.
“Luke.”
Darla’s voice breaks my family’s shared silence.
“Is it possible? You are more beautiful every time I set eyes on you.”
His scent is strong, and on his approach I quietly sniff at the air around him. He is pure, like our Darla. He is family, he shares her station. Hand selected, and it shows. His broad jaw, and a wide mouth fixed in a steady smirk. Massive shoulders and menacing height. He scoops her into his embrace, and kisses her forehead. They’ve parted, and he’s turning his attention to Sire.
“Master Angelus.”
He nods his head, and offers his hand.
“Master Luke.”
Sire replies, with a firm shake.
“Do I find you well on this hallowed night?”
“Ah, but you do. And yourself? How would you be?”
“Very well, Childe. Serving the Master below.”
“Still lurking in the sewers, hm? Come above every now and again, enjoy the view, will you?”
Luke and Sire share laughter, and Darla stands by, looking uneasy.
“Don’t fret my lamb. I’ll be on my best this eve.”
She gives him a warning look, and clasps Luke’s hand.
“Brother. When is Master to arrive?”
“I’m already here, Childe.”
And here stands a man, unlike any other I’ve seen. Pure white skin, with long talons for hands, and a misshapen face. A hush falls over the room, and he turns to nod at the crowd.
“My Savior.”
Darla bows her head before him, and his hand falls to her neck.
“Rise, beloved.”
She stands and he places a kiss to her cheek.
“Let the Naming begin.”
The crowd is pushing forward, and a group of men begin pouring clarets of crimson liquid from crystal decanters. I turn my attention to Sire, and he’s beaming over the gathering, chest puffed out, and his hand toying with the golden ball from his stylish cane.
“Gather near, Children.”
The Master instructs. There is the tinkle of crystal tapping together as decanters pour out their contents. And one by one, they move before us.
“On this eve, we pay tribute to the Order of Aurelius. With our most recent addition, we grow our ranks. We are stronger for it, and bring honor to the Old Ones.”
Darla’s brother has accepted an empty goblet, and the Master opens a leathered case containing a dagger with a bejeweled hilt and a gleaming blade. Together they turn to face Sire. The Master places a hand on Angelus’ shoulder.
“Name your newest.”
“He is William. Blood of my blood. He bears my name.”
The dagger is drawn across Angelus’ palm, and his blood drips slowly into the claret.
“Name your newest.”
The Master requests of Darla.
“He is William. Blood of my blood. He bears my name.”
Her palm is cut, and her blood mixes with Angelus’ in the glass. I watch as the liquid is carried to Penn, the light from the chandelier causing the cuts in the stem to sparkle and shine.
“Name your newest.”
“He is William. Blood of my blood. He bears my name.”
He is cut, the cup is filled. They move to Drusilla now, she curtsies elegantly, and smiles at the Master with the innocence of a child.
“Name your newest.”
“He is William.”
She giggles. Darla glares at her, and she stiffens her composure.
“Blood of my blood. He bears my name.”
The Master and Luke turn towards the guests, and raise the cup together.
“William of Aurelius has arrived.”
A sea of glasses are lifted above heads.
“On that promised day we will arise! Arise and lay waste to the human pestilence, William of Aurelius at our right hand! Tonight, the stars themselves do hide.”
I accept the cup that is handed to me. The Master nods for me to drink. And I do. I close my eyes to savor the taste of my family on my tongue. Rich, and thick, it rolls through my mouth.
There is a whirring in the room now, and I open my eyes. The guests are approaching, they’re clapping Angelus on the back and offering praises. I look to my right, and glimpse the Master in conversation with Penn. And to my left, Darla is retying the bow in Drusilla’s hair.
“William, come.”
Angelus is calling me to stand beside him. He continues speaking with a young ginger haired man.
“William, t’would be my pleasure to introduce Master Jacob of Acheron.”
“How do you do?”
“Quite well, Master William, many thanks. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Finally?”
I question him, and it seems to amuse my Sire.
“The whole community has been anticipating your arrival, my boy.”
“They have?”
Master Jacob laughs, and pats Angelus on the back.
“You’ve kept this one close to home, have you?”
“You’d suspect for a moment that I hadn’t?”
I stand uncomfortably, toying with the hem of my waistcoat.
“And I don’t fault you, Angelus. Not one iota. I’d do the same, were he my own.”
“I do believe you stated those very words at Penn’s own Naming. Perhaps it’s your advancing years that’s making you so forgetful, Jacob.”
I chuckle with the pair of them, some of my apprehension easing.
“Ah, Penn. Magnum Opus. What I wouldn’t give to have found that lad first.”
“Did I hear my name? Master Jacob, it’s been an age. Where have you been hiding yourself?”
“Penn, my boy!”
They’re shaking hands, and grinning at one another.
“Tell me you weren’t traumatizing our young William.”
“Surely you jest! Would I ever do such a thing?”
“No, not you. Never you. It was my mistake. I apologize, unreservedly.”
“Oh, you are a charmer. Listen, I heard of your recent experiences with the Lusceans.”
I feel as though I’ve been struck. My back stiffens, and my hands ball into fists. Penn’s arm falls around my waist.
“They’ve been seen to.”
Master Jacob nods apologetically at Penn, and turns to Angelus.
“I cannot find the words to express my disappointment with them. A caucus has been ordered to deal with their recent endeavors to encroach on territory.”
“Well, territory is at a prime in this region.”
“This is true, but we cannot allow our factions to weaken our ranks.”
I sense Darla approaching.
“They were always a rebel breed.”
“Darla. Exquisite. Always a pleasure.”
Master Jacob bows deeply before her, and kisses her hand.
“Jacob, you clever man. Are my boys keeping you entertained?”
“They most certainly are. We were just discussing politics.”
“Ah, the Lusceans. They really should have known better. We are the Aurelius, after all. The elite. Perhaps they’d have been wiser to select a fledgeling from the Phobus Order. You know the Phobus, with their penchant for quantity over quality.”
Everyone laughing and I’m boiling inside. My body is shaking and my nails are digging into my palms. Politics? How can they just dismiss what happened as politics?
“Brother… come, we’ll have a walk.”
Penn is ushering me through the guests, and out into the street.
“How can they, Penn? That wasn’t politics! You could’ve…”
He caresses my face, and I bite my lip.
“I have yet to give you my gift, little brother.”
He’s close now, so close. And I’m aware that this is an attempt to distract me. But his hand is on my groin, and I cannot help but to lean into him.
“But…”
I protest, weakly, as he fondles me surely through the fabric.
“I mean to encourage you with the art of yielding.”
Greatly encouraged, I am, as his hand works my sex confidently. The stiffness presses against my stomach, leaving a spread of wetness.
“So new…” he whispers into me, “and barely broken.”
With each movement, I break. I whimper against his neck, and plead silently to end this frustration.
“Please, brother…”
“We’ll be departing soon, William.”
“And will you have me this eve?”
“I will.”
His declaration drives the excitement through me, and my thirst for him intensifies the ache in my access. His lips, hovering before mine, parted and wet. I wish to kiss them, suck on them, taste them with my own. Leaning in, and we’re pressing our mouths together. Quietly moaning, and I can’t pull him any closer, though my hands continue to try.
Footsteps to the side of us, and I couldn’t care who sees, for I am delighting in the dampness of his mouth and the soft probes of his tongue. And oh, to be laid bare before him, to feel his sex pulsing within me.
“A stór, it’s plain to see you’d be needing some time with your brother. Will we be leaving for home, then?”
Penn releases me, and I’m struggling to find words.
“Aye, Sire. I believe it’s been a long night for our newest.”
“And promising to be an even longer one, by the look of it.”
I should say something, but I’ve no idea what.
“Angelus… we…”
“You’ve no need to explain, William. Master Jacob has kindly offered us the use of his carriage.”
He’s grinning, and gesturing for us to follow. Looking ahead, I can see Darla and Drusilla standing aside the carriage with Master Jacob. Penn is urging me forward, and I’m acutely aware of the arousal pressed against my belly, and of his hand on the small of my back, and how very much I want to be alone with him at this moment.
“Hurry along, boys.”
Darla’s calling to us, and my feet move swiftly over the cobbled road. The distant sound of horseshoes on rocks moves nearer as I approach the carriage. I can think of nothing more than the pleasure that awaits me.
“William, darling, did you enjoy your evening?”
“I did.”
It’s all I can manage, as I’m climbing in to sit aside Penn. His hand is on my knee, and the cold night air stings my face. I feel us moving now, and everyone’s chatting and laughing. He is so close, and I imagine how very different he’ll feel from Angelus.
I look out into the pure blackness of the night, and concentrate on the sensation of his fingers pressing into my thigh, and his shoulder rubbing against mine with every jostle of the cab. My erection rubbing against the stiff fabric of my trousers, and I want to pull that hand up, to cup me, and stroke me. I’m picturing those fingers wrapped around my sex, as they were the night of the attack. The soft, muted moans in my ear as he pleasured me. The feeling of emptiness in my backside, and that burning desire to be filled with him. To be bathed in him. And oh, I ache for him.
“You’re trembling, brother.”
He’s whispering in my ear. I lick my lips, wet them with my tongue, and reach for his hand. His scent overwhelms me, and I squeeze his fingers, close my eyes, and tilt my head to breathe more of him in.
“Oh, Angelus. What a treasure you’ve found!”
“You wouldn’t hear a word to the contrary from me, Jacob.”
More laughter as we turn, and I hear the train wail into the station. We’re near, so near to home now. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, and lean into Penn.
“Soon, William.”
He says, and I open my eyes to see his face so near to mine. Wide grey eyes that I sink into, and sinfully soft lips that smile, and brush lightly over my own. I could drown in him here, lift myself onto his stiffness and feel him move within me, completing me.
The carriage stops, and the smells of our home wash over me. We’re here. I’m in a desperate way, altogether.
“Master William, it was a pleasure. I hope we’ll be seeing you again soon.”
“Master Jacob, thank you.”
I shake his hand, and with a nod, I exit the carriage. As fast as I can move, I make my way through the house, and into Penn’s room. My hands quickly work to divest myself of my trousers. Climbing onto his bed, I position myself for his entry.
“Brother.”
And it sounds like a moan. I feel him move up the bed, and lay his clothed body against mine.
“There’s no rush in this, William.”
“Penn, I beg of you.”
“Ah, love… Sire has broken your seal, and all you wish is to be sealed shut again.”
His words against my neck send shivers through my spine.
“Then do.”
I’m pleading with him, and his fingers part me. Softly caressing my ache, his lips traveling my neck to my ear, and I’m leaking out against the rough bedclothes.
“You want to rush straight to the climax, I want you to experience every single note of the symphony.”
My sex bouncing and dancing at his words, the ache in my access simmering as his fingers drag lazily along my backside.
“You’d have me suffer this way?”
“Oh, dear brother, I’d have you suffer in so many ways.”
He whispers, bringing a painful stiffness to my untouched sex, and I realize I’m rising against each stroke of his fingers. My legs spread apart, and still the fingers elude me, refusing to enter. I whimper in frustration, and continue to follow his fingers in futility.
“Undress me.”
Flooded with need, and I turn myself to him. Removing his shirt, and his trousers, and the sharp curve of his erection victoriously displayed between his thighs making my hands tremble.
“Has Sire taught you to use your mouth yet, William?”
Before I can respond, I’m being pulled down close to his hardened sex. His fingers cup my chin, and the direction is clear. And what would this feel like? I find myself hesitating, not quite certain what’s expected of me. I glance up to take in his expression, his eyes comfort me, as he runs his fingers into my hair. Oh, would he ever end this torture, and fill me. But those fingers guide my head down again.
My lips near his sex, and I’m trembling with apprehension. His hand urges me forward to take that hardness into my mouth, and so I do. Pull back the hood, and close my lips around the thickness. A quiet moan from above me, and his hips gently rock his length in and out of me.
“Move yourself, William, so I can reach you.”
Adjusting my position, and savoring the saltiness on my tongue, my head bobs with each of his small thrusts. On my knees, and licking and sucking and lapping at his swollen sex, his hand on my backside, returning to its earlier sweet torture, and muffled moans escape me. I move down on him, my lips tight, and he groans out in pleasure, engulfing me in the excitement. Yet I struggle to follow his hand, because even now those fingers elude me, refusing to enter.
“Are you so hungry you cannot enjoy this, brother?”
And it’s now that I realize I’m whimpering, deep in my throat. Fingers beneath my chin now, pulling my head to face him.
“Will you not answer me?”
“I wish to pleasure you, Penn. I wish nothing more than that.”
“Ah, is that why you’re here? To offer me pleasure?”
“Yes.”
He’s pushing me flat to the bed now, his lips and tongue trailing my chest and up to my neck.
“It is not why I’m here, William.”
How can he say this, as his hands touch me the way they do? I can feel his want pressed against my thigh.
“You do not wish to have me, Penn?”
“Oh, I wish to have you, brother. I wish to leave your body exhausted from desire. But you’ve not been invited to my bed to service me.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“You’re not a slave, William. Your experiences should be enjoyable. You should find pleasure in them.”
“But I do.”
“You find pleasure at Angelus’ hand, of course. But I am not your Sire. You’ve no duty to me. And I mean to teach you… so many things. So many delights that await you.”
Suddenly our lips are pressed together, and I understand. The hands that caress me are strong, and sure. Decadent. Sinful. I’ve no service to perform, I’ve only to enjoy the sensations, and give them in return.
I feed from the dampness of his mouth, and the power of this moment. The weight of his body pressed into mine, and I delight in this. My hands roam his back, and I can feel each sharp curve of muscle sculpting his shoulders, sliding down his flanks. The sudden rise of silken flesh as I cup his backside, and the groan of pleasure against my lips when I do.
There is power here… And I hold the half of it.
The cold air tingles the wetness on my lips as he pulls away. He’s pointing to the oil, and without hesitation, I reach for it.
“Are you ready, William?”
“I am.”
Dribbling the oil onto his sex, and it’s gleaming now in the soft flickering light. I’m taking a moment to drink him in. He is stunning. Different from Angelus, and very unlike myself. His body is that of some Greek statue. Some God of a lost culture, not breathing, yet very much alive. And when my eyes travel to his face, oh those luminous eyes sparkle in amusement. Soft full lips turned up at the corners, and a pink tongue sneaking out to wet them.
“Enjoying the sights, William?”
“You are magnificent, Penn.”
Leaning forward, and placing a gentle kiss to my mouth.
“You see what treasures you’ll find when you allow yourself? Imagine what it would be to see Angelus with these eyes.”
A long low sigh and I’m pushing him back against the pillows. He’s now sitting against them, smiling and gripping himself. An invitation to the lavish pleasures this night will hold.
“Lift yourself onto me.”
He needn’t ask twice, as I move quickly into position over his sex. Straddling him, I feel his finger trail along my access, and guide his thickness to my entrance.
“Take your pleasure.”
My knees scrape along the bed covers as I descend, and suddenly I can feel the familiar stretch of being filled. His sex opens me, and his hands grip my backside to keep me this way. And oh, that precious ache, that throbbing within. How long I’ve waited to feel him this way, and it’s everything… and more.
Slowly I open myself to accept him. I close my eyes to concentrate on the sensations of his thickness pushing in, fraction by fraction, and it’s so good. And I want more of this. More of this, as I come to rest on his hips, his sex tucked deep within me. I spare a moment to shudder, and he’s moaning quietly in appreciation.
Opening my eyes, and he’s smiling. Hands stroking at my thighs, caressing my hips and pulling me down on his sex. Moans, so loud, as I feel him rub against that knot within me. The one that makes me tremble, and leak from my own sex. Watching his face, I rise up, his hands pull at my hips, dragging me back down. Impaling me over again. So deep, and his mouth quivers, wet and pink, and I’m full with him.
“William… again, again.”
He’s whispering, and sighing, and clutching my waist. Easily, I rise and fall rhythmically against him. Soft groans, and small thrusts from beneath me, the cadence of our lovemaking is effortless.
“Ah brother, so right… so lush between us.”
“Penn… ah, Penn… inside.”
“Your cock is beautiful, William… can you stand if I touch it?”
“I’ll release for certain.”
“Oh”, he moans out, and thrusts even deeper into me. Riding his sex, and he’s coring me with every pump. Open mouthed cries, my head thrown back, and pleasuring myself on his length. Over and again, lancing my backside on this sweet thickness.
The door is moving open, the light from the hall flooding in and illuminating our writhing bodies. Do I turn now? I couldn’t care to. The pleasure inside coursing through my veins, as though my heart were still beating. And I moan louder now, as if my unspoken words convey my desire to be left alone with this intoxicating rush of power and bliss I’ve found. And leave us… leave us to unlock the riches we’ve discovered.
My hips rocking forward, rising up, and sinking down. Again, and again, and I can’t stop this. It’s so right, so satisfying, so full.
The creak of a wooden chair as a heavy body settles into it. Leave us. Leave us.
“Turn him.”
Sire’s voice cutting through the shared moans. The fingers massaging deeply into my hips now grip and lift me.
“Please don’t let this end.”
My voice clatters out in a choked sob. His hand cupping my face, his expression of desire and empathy paralyzes me.
“This doesn’t end, William. This goes on and on.”
Allowing those hands to guide me, to turn me around, and pull my back to his chest. Strong arm surrounding my waist, and another pulling my legs apart. This wanton position, exposing my recently filled access to our Sire. I’m aching to be filled again, so lost in the want. Pleading, and spreading my legs further, as though I can offer myself as a sacrifice to the Gods, and be freed from this torturous suspended arousal with their mercy.
“Take him if it pleases you, Penn.”
His hand scooping up my sac, and exposing me further, a finger gently caresses my access.
“Show him, William. Show him where you need to be touched.”
Sliding my hand between my thighs and entering myself with a finger. It’s not nearly thick enough, nor long enough and I cannot suppress a whimper.
Tongue and lips on my neck urge me on. A second finger, and still it’s not enough. Gritting my teeth, and grunting as I struggle to fill myself the way I was only moments ago. Pushing hard now, the agony of my stiffness presses cruelly into my belly as I bend myself to gain better access.
My eyes meeting Sire’s and he’s watching me with intense interest. I’m gazing at him, as he is bathed in the soft golden glow of the lamp at his side. His fingers pushing the trousers down enough to expose his own erection, and I moan low in my throat.
Focusing on his sex that’s now gripped in his fist, a fist that’s moving lazily up and down his length. The excitement pumps through me and my fingers jab desperately at my bared entrance.
“I need more.”
And that must be my voice I hear pleading out in a coarse whisper. But it sounds vulgar and shameless, and makes my Sire squirm in his seat.
“That’s it William, show him.”
“Penn, God… Penn, please have mercy.”
“Can’t you see, brother? Look what it does to him, seeing you this way.”
My attention on Angelus, and oh my arousal at the lurid way he plays with his sex while watching my fingers stab vainly into my backside. He’s rising, and removing his trousers completely, never taking his eyes from my movements. Settling back into the chair now, one hand on his erection, and God… one hand slipping under his sac.
Instantly I feel the knuckles of Penn’s fist sliding up and down my back as he begins working his sex. He must feel what I feel. Wish what I do. The very thought has us moaning and pushing against one another. Oh to see Angelus’ toy at his own access. My mouth is open, and I’m panting as Penn lifts me again onto his lap.
“William, pleasure yourself on me.”
I dare not speak in response, but obediently position my backside over his sex to receive him. And God, the blunt stiffness at my ache as he pierces me. Moaning, as his length reaches my spot, and slides so deliciously across that I fear I’m in danger of completing in this very moment.
“Let him see, brother.”
My legs parting as far as they’ll allow, my hand between my thighs lifting my sac, showing him. Watch, Angelus. With unfaltering rhythm, watch as I ride him. Watch as Penn’s hands grip my hips to still me for his deep thrusts. Watch because you enjoy this. And dear God, so do I!
“Is it good, William? Being watched…”
“So good.”
I manage in a groan, my head rolling back on my shoulders. I can barely register the sound of the chair creaking again before Angelus appears next to the bed. Slowly he bends to capture my lips with his. Our mouths pressed tightly together, bringing my arms around his neck, and pulling him closer to me. Strong arms wrapping around my waist, lifting me slightly to allow the long languid pumps of Penn’s sex. Together we ride the rocking cadence of our bodies… and this is so much… so much.
Pulling away and I’m desperate for his mouth. Gripping his arms, and trying with all my strength to bring him back to me. A smile on his lips, and please Angelus…
“You’ve used his mouth, Penn.”
“Ah, I have…”
From beneath me, my brothers’ whispered answer. Spoken in so much delight, and bliss, I’m lost in the thrill of it.
“And you were pleased, lad?”
Angelus’ mouth trembles as he speaks.
“Was divine, Sire.”
Sire climbing onto the bed and reaching around me to stroke at Penn’s face. Our movement has halted, and my sex throbs in the stillness.
“Would you like me to pleasure you Sire?”
Angelus nods, and moves to his knees. Slowly I’m lifted from Penn’s hardness, and I feel empty… empty and aching. A hand around my arm, pulling me to follow him. Moving behind Angelus, and Penn bending between Sire’s parted thighs. And oh… Oh to see Angelus this way. To see him exposed, and that heavy sac resting between his legs. That strong back, wide expanse of flesh, muscles in his shoulders flexing with his slight movements.
Looking in astonishment to Penn now, and he’s smiling wide and wicked as he nears Sire’s parted backside.
“Sometimes he needs this, brother.”
And without hesitation, sealing his mouth against Angelus’ access. Lapping and licking, and Sire is moaning quietly.
I’m frozen in awe at the sight of it. Angelus lifting one hand to grip his length, he strokes himself while Penn tongues at him. How many times have I found pleasure at Angelus’ hardness? Lost myself in the sensations of his sex, thumping deep within me. Felt the delicious wave of excitement as the threads of my thoughts unwound with my completion. Does he not deserve this in return?
Reaching for Sire’s fist around his sex, turning his head and casting a questioning glance at me. I’m smiling, and crawling under his body. A gasp above me, as I take that thickness into my mouth, clamp around it with my lips and ease it into me. Suddenly I’m sucking hard and frantic at his swollen sex, and listening to the overwhelmed grunts of pleasure escaping my Sire.
“Ah, my boys…”
Pulling on it hard, and teasing it with my tongue, I’m almost uncontrollably excited by the remembrance of all the times this sex has pierced me, driven me into ecstasy and loved me well into the day.
His hand urges my head back and forth at the pace he prefers. And I give this to him, as he has given me so much. Be it instinct, or my current state of want, I feel my legs part, and my buttocks rise and fall with each dipping of my head.
“Oh, the way you do, William… the way you do, boy. Doing my head in, to be sure.”
A strong hand on my back, gripping and releasing, and nothing there for him to hold onto.
“Penn… my love, you must.”
The hand moves back to my head, stilling me as his legs part. Penn’s thighs between Sire’s now, and I hear the familiar sound of wetness, thumping and a smacking as Penn’s belly slaps against Sire’s rear.
“Lie beneath me, William.”
Quickly, I move myself. Legs parted, and waiting for his entry. I can see Penn’s face lit with pure bliss hovering over Sire’s back.
“When he needs this, brother… Oh, it is a gift for certain.”
A worshipful kiss on Sire’s shoulder, and moving to his neck and his ear. I watch Penn’s mouth reverently pay homage to our Sire. Watching still, as Angelus’ body rocks with the gallop of Penn’s thrusts.
“Give me a moment, William.”
Sire whispers, eyes shut in careful concentration. Penn smiling down on me, the sounds of his pumps into Sire’s backside thrill me, and he knows. I reach between my thighs, and push my fingers into my own access in anticipation.
“That’s it, dear brother. Prepare yourself for him.”
Angelus opening his eyes and staring down at my fingers disappearing into my body. A groan of pure lust, and he’s pushing his fingers in with my own. And Oh… it’s almost heaven. Almost… because I can barely hold my completion back.
“Release if you must, A stór.”
My arousal has been suspended too long to be easily contented. I know that if I were to release, it would be a fleeting moment before my sex was engorged and throbbing for fulfillment again. But I wish to feel Angelus before I do.
Spreading my thighs far, and rolling my hips up. Silently begging that he replace our fingers with his sex. A nod, and the fingers pull out. His hand wrapping around the deep red swollen shaft, guiding himself against me. A desperate cry as he slides into me. My backside gripping his length as he pushes in deeper and deeper. Feeling the rhythm of Penn’s hips propelling his pelvis forward, impaling me again… and again… and I grip myself in desperation. The world around me going black, and thick strands of wetness hit my chest in pulses of bliss. More and more… and I’m fading out, fading in. Groans and pants fill my ears as I ride Sire’s cock, and penetrate the sheath of my hand. Lips on my chest, and more… more.
My release waning as I cling helplessly to my sex. Sire’s hand joining mine, and enticing it to awaken again. Pushing back and forth into our fingers until I’m jerking and moaning.
“I’m near, lads… near.”
The pumps into my rear grow sharp. The fingers around me tighten. I lift my knees high to give him a smooth run, and he groans out. Penn sighing in pleasure as he grips at Sire’s waist.
“Angelus, let me soak you. Inside, Sire…”
“Ah Penn, do.”
Watching as Penn trembles in spasms behind Angelus. Feeling the shudders through Angelus, I’m drawn in again… drawn into the pinnacle. His sex feeding my hunger, soothing my ache. And oh… oh… the wetness inside now… drenching this fire within. Teetering on the edge of my own completion, the muscles in my backside clamping down in tremors that bring the loud cries of satisfaction from my Sire. Breathing in gulps of air, and hard punishing swells of pleasure thundering out of me in streams of wetness. Descending into blackness again, as flashes of decadence and flesh fill my mind. Bodies entangled, writhing limbs and moans, sighs of release.
Inertia as our bodies slow to a halt. My entire being tingles with satisfaction. Feeling Angelus’ softened sex slipping out of me, and my legs falling to the bed as they lay on either side of me. Exhausted.
And as sleep closes in, Penn’s voice whispering in my ear.
“Did you enjoy your naming, brother?”
“I believe I should have one every night.”
And the last thing I hear before sleep finds me, and the darkness turns to day, is Angelus softly laughing, pulling me close.
“Well loved, William.”
THE END
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