The Lesbian Vampire Wars Ch 09 11

Chapter 9: The Feeders

In the back room of a country and western bar named Harley's, far out on the edge of town, two beefy fists were clenched together, straining with their every ounce of strength. Their palms were pressed together, pushing mightily in opposite directions. Two sets of bulging biceps were tensed to near the breaking point, and two elbows were planted firmly on the rough wooden surface of the beer-stained table.

The fist with the pale green fingernails was moving forward, almost imperceptibly. The other fist, with the white-painted fingernails, was slowly yielding, a fraction of an inch at a time. Slowly, the green-nailed fist was gaining ground, inching ever forward and closer to the surface of the table below it. Both arms were sweating, and veins and tendons popped out to near the breaking point.

Slowly, excruciatingly, but inexorably, the green-nailed fist pushed forward, until at last, with a final grunt, it slammed the white-nailed fist to the table with a loud thud. The crowd in the room roared its approval.

Elphaba flexed her fingers and her arm. She grinned triumphantly at her opponent. She ran her fingers through her buzz-cut green-dyed hair and laughed lustily.

Jadis shook her white-nailed hand in the air, trying to regain feeling. She looked ruefully at Elphaba. "Okay," she said. "You win, again."

Elphaba looked around the table at the faces of her closest advisors. "Any other challengers?" she roared. Nobody spoke.

She leaned back in her chair, belched, and looked around the room at the rest of the assembled Feeders. "Anyone at all? Any challengers in the room?" Silence.

"Good. Then let there be an end to this foolishness. I remain in charge of this hive." She rolled the plaid flannel sleeves of her shirt back down over her muscular arms, and twisted the cap off a bottle of beer. She drained half of the bottle down her throat before slamming it down on the table, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Okay," she said. "Back to business." The rest of the Feeders in the room took their seats, at the main table and along the walls. "As you know, we killed five of the Vampire sluts in their lairs during the day, in retaliation for their murder of Eve. This has had the desired effect: the rest of them are holed up in their little manor."

"But doesn't that just make them harder to get at?" asked Ethel, a relatively young member of the hive.

"Not at all," said Elphaba. "Now they are all bunched up and we know where they are. They have to come out to feed eventually. And when they do, we'll get them."

"But what if they don't come out?" asked Mildred, a sadistic Feeder with a broken nose.

Elphaba laughed and drained the rest of her beer. She casually tossed the empty bottle toward a refuse can in the corner, and missed. "All the better," she said, and belched loudly. "Then they'll just starve, and we'll be rid of them!" The assembled crowd roared with laughter.

"One more question, Elphaba," came a voice. It was from Blair, a skeptical but fair-minded Feeder. "Those five vampires that you killed? How did you know where their lairs were? They keep them well hidden. And Eve wasn't killed until a couple nights ago. Certainly you didn't find them all in that short time. Have you been planning this all along?"

Elphaba looked pained. "Why, Blair, your question is almost an accusation! Don't you think that I have the best interest of this hive at heart? Your lack of faith disturbs me." She grabbed another bottle of beer from the bucket on the table and twisted off the cap. "No more questions! At midnight, five of you will converge on Ruthven Manor. Stay hidden in the bushes, in the trees. When they come out to feed, take them out one by one." She looked around, from face to face. Finding no dissent, she laughed lustily and stood up.

"I'm going to my room to rest up. Which of you wenches wants to service me tonight?" She glanced around the room. Nobody volunteered. Elphaba was notoriously difficult to please in the sexual department. "Enid!" she cried, crooking her finger. "Come with me."

Enid, a burly young Feeder with short-cropped red hair, rose slowly to her feet to spend a sleep cycle with her leader. She dutifully followed Elphaba down the hall to her room.

Once inside, Elphaba locked the door. She took off her boots and jeans and tossed them into a corner. She sat in a large stuffed chair against the wall and spread her legs. She pointed to the carpet in front of the chair. "Kneel," she commanded.

Enid knew what was expected of her. She took her place in front of Elphaba's chair, her face even with her leader's gaping sex. Her outer face opened up, revealing her inner face and her long, cylindrical proboscis. The proboscis slowly extended toward Elphaba's sex.

Elphaba leaned her head back and closed her eyes, ready to be pleasured by her underling.

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Chapter 10: Sally and Martin

By midnight, Sally and Drusilla were thoroughly tired of each other, and were greatly relieved when the second watch arrived, in the form of Sybil and Lilly.

"The night is half over, ladies," said Lilly. "We've got the second watch."

"Run along; you've got time to feed and catch a few hours rest," added Sybil.

"Thank Providence!" said Drusilla, casting a withering glance at Sally, who completely ignored it.

"Thank you, ladies!" said Sally merrily. "Can you sign us out? Come, Drosophila, let's go get a snack."

Drusilla looked even more sour than before, but she joined Sally in slipping out as the door was bolted behind them.

"Where do you usually like to feed?" asked Sally. "I don't really have a favorite spot, but I'd like to share yours. We're supposed to travel in pairs, you know."

"If you don't mind, I'd rather feed alone," said Drusilla, and before Sally could object, she was gone into the night.

"Well, how rude!" said Sally to herself. Then she thought about Martin. She hadn't seen him in awhile, and with the war coming, this might be her last chance for an even longer while. Which meant, she thought sadly, that it might be her final chance ever. She raised her arms, closed her eyes, and transformed. Soon she was flying, bat-form, toward the far side of town.

Martin sat alone in his wheelchair in his room, reading a book of poetry by Poe. His hands, old and spotted, shook as he turned the pages. His eyes, watery and clouded, could barely make out the text. His nurse had already retired for the night, and he was nearly asleep himself. He slept a lot these days.

He barely heard the tapping at the window; in fact, he at first thought he had imagined it. How could there be tapping at a fifth floor window? he wondered. But he rolled over to investigate. To his surprise, his fiancé, Sally, was standing on the window ledge!

"Sally!" he said, cranking open the window. "Get in here! What are you doing out there?"

"Martin, it's so wonderful to see you," Sally said, kissing him on his old bald head. "You look wonderful!" she lied.

"And you look beautiful, as always," Martin said, his eyes moist. "Tell me again, I keep forgetting: when is our wedding scheduled?"

Sally had moist eyes herself. "Darling, don't you remember? There isn't going to be a wedding. I'm a vampire now, remember?"

Martin had good days and bad. Mostly bad. "Oh, yes; I remember," he said sadly, the years coming back to him. "How long has it been?"

"About sixty years, darling," Sally told him, gently stroking his wrinkled cheek. She sat on the edge of his bed, and put her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed softly to herself.

Martin put his hand on her head and stroked her blonde hair. "It's alright, darling. It's alright. If we can't get married, we'll just live in sin. Heh, heh!" But his laughter soon turned to a coughing fit.

Sally looked into his eyes. She still loved him very much, and always had. She had been turned just two weeks before their wedding. Poor Martin had never recovered from the loss of her, and she had never been able to let go of her old life. He had never married, and she had never taken a vampire name.

She studied his wrinkled face. She looked closely at his frail old neck, with skin like yellowed paper. "I could turn you, you know. It isn't too late. Then we could be together, forever."

"Now, now, we've had this discussion before," Martin said, momentarily as lucid as a judge. "I'm already old, and even if you turn me, I'll still be old. You deserve a life with someone closer to your own age."

"We are the same age!"

"You know what I mean," he said gently. "No, Sally. You've got to let me go. You've got to let it all go, and move on. I've loved you for many, many years. I know it wasn't the kind of love that we'd planned, but I don't regret a minute of it." Sally was sobbing in earnest by now. "I've always had you to love, to think about, to be proud of. And you've never lost a hint of your beauty. It's been a good life. Unusual, but good. Soon I'll be leaving it, and you can start over."

Sally was again buried in his shoulder, sobbing like a baby. He let her cry, patting her head.

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Chapter 11: The Coed

Quinn and Vanessa left the Natural History Building and headed toward the silent streets of the campus town. The streets were mostly deserted by now, the bars having closed hours ago.

"Should we sneak back into the manor? And snack on some B-rations?" asked Vanessa.

"We could do that," began Quinn. "But we're out and about now. It might be our last chance for some real food for awhile."

Vanessa embraced her and gave her a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss.

"What was that for?"

"Because I like the way you think!"

Just then, they heard a commotion down a nearby side street. It sounded like a woman's voice, frightened, and the sound of feet scraping on concrete. They ran to the entrance to the side street.

Two college men, Greek letters on their sweaters, had a woman pressed into a doorway, and were roughly groping her. She was struggling mightily, trying to kick them and cry out. The taller, blonde-haired man had his hand around her throat, trying to keep her quiet.

Quinn and Vanessa looked at each other. Then they turned to the two ruffians.

"Hey!" shouted Vanessa. Both men turned to look at her. The woman froze.

"What do you want with that skinny little bitch?" shouted Quinn. "Afraid to try a real woman, are you?"

The two fraternity brothers looked at each other, then broke into broad grins. They abandoned the poor struggling girl, who took off in the opposite direction as fast as she could run. The ruffians approached Quinn and Vanessa.

"What have we here?" asked the taller one. "Two Goth chicks? Haven't seen you two around campus. I hear you Goths love to fuck. Is it true?" He leered lewdly at them. The shorter one grinned and slobbered with his pimply face.

"Come and find out," said Vanessa, as she and Quinn turned and walked provocatively away from them, down a nearby alley. The two frat brothers followed.

Half way down the alley, the two women stopped. They separated, and leaned up against the walls on opposite sides of the alley. The men approached them. The taller one came up to Vanessa. "How about it, babe? Can you handle what I'm packing?" He thrust his pelvis toward her.

Vanessa raised her skirt. Her naked pussy, hairless and moist, was bare before him. He instantly dropped his pants to his ankles, and fell against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Vanessa reached around and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him in close. She felt the stiffness of his cock press between her thighs, and she helped him guide it into her vagina.

The blonde ruffian buried his cock inside of her, feeling her slick wetness. It was colder than he expected, but still soft and moist and wonderful. He soon fell to mindless, breathless thrusting, lost in the pleasure of fucking this wanton Goth slut up against the coarse brick wall of the alley.

Vanessa glanced over his shoulder. Against the opposite wall, Quinn was likewise being fucked by the short, pimply ruffian. Quinn's eyes were half closed, but Vanessa could see that her pupils were vertical slits, and her fangs were deployed. Her round hips were thrusting back most vigorously, and she was clearly enjoying herself. Then Vanessa forgot about Quinn, and gave herself over to the thorough fucking she was enjoying herself.

Vanessa's ruffian was speeding up, and his breath was becoming uneven. She knew he was close to his orgasm. At the crucial moment, just as he began to come, she opened her mouth and buried her fangs in his neck, ripping out a large chunk of flesh. He uttered a short cry before losing consciousness, and Vanessa began to feed urgently on his spurting, pumping blood as his cock continued to pump spurt after spurt of semen into her vagina.

Quinn's ruffian heard his buddy's cry, and looked around. He shouted in horror at what he saw. Quinn instantly clamped onto his neck with her fangs, sucking and swallowing his life's blood as it flowed like wine into her mouth.

Both women fed, greedily and noisily, until they were satiated, and then lowered the two corpses to the ground. Quinn walked slowly over to Vanessa, still leaning against the wall.

"Mine didn't get to come," she said, blood dripping from her lips.

"Mine did," said Vanessa.

"I know," said Quinn. She lowered herself to a crouch, and placed her mouth on the mound between Vanessa's thighs. She stretched out her tongue, and lapped up the creamy white sauce dripping from Vanessa's sex. She licked and sucked and slurped, the white semen mixing with the blood still in her mouth to form a slimy pink roux.

Quinn stood and placed her arms around Vanessa's neck. Vanessa responded by embracing Quinn about the waist. They kissed, long and deeply, swapping the pink slime back and forth numerous times, before finally each swallowing their share.

"Yummy," whispered Quinn.

Vanessa glanced at the moon. "We'd better get back. It will be light before too long, and we could be missed already."

They raised their arms, transformed, and were gone.