The hunger was consuming Susan. She was getting dizzy; the fever was clouding her mind and she had broken out into a sweat. She teetered on her heels, and looked at her hands. The skin on her hands and arms was flushed bright red. She was burning up. Had this really seemed like a good idea?
Her mind drifted back to the hamburger she had tried to ingest a half hour ago. Her stomach reeled with nausea at the thought. She thought this would be so easy. Six days ago, Danuta had given her what she thought would be the greatest gift; unimaginable power and freedom. But instead, she was helpless, scared. And so desperately hungry. She needed to feed.
She had always been socially awkward. Sort of pretty, she had jet-black hair and a pale complexion. Her boobs were fairly large -- D cups, and nicely shaped. Her hips and tummy were wider than she would have liked, but she was by no means fat. A couple of her teeth were crooked though, and her smile was lop-sided. This made her very self-conscious of smiling, and reinforced her shyness.
She could never figure out exactly why she was so hopeless with men. Twenty years old now, she had only had sex twice. They were both one-night stands. And she had struck out with every guy she had ever had interest in. She was a bit geeky she supposed; she liked books, and video games, and was a member of a historical reenactment society. She was definitely on the goth side of things, and was heavily into the image in high school. She couldn't understand why she couldn't seem to say or do the right things to be sexy, to make men want her. And now she thought she had it; the ultimate power to seduce and consume men, strictly for her pleasure and sustenance. But instead, she found that she was the same old inept loser, striking out with men whenever she made any bumbling advance, and somehow unable to tempt them to make a move.
Except that now she was starving, the hunger taking her whole being and threatening to end her existence. She needed sperm. And now.
Two hours ago, she had been in a nightclub. She had already been getting panicky -- six full days had passed since Danuta had turned her. She still hadn't fed, and she was getting terribly weak. She had spent almost all of the last of her money on an outfit to try to attract a man. It was a red PVC mini-dress, with buckles and a collar with lapels. Her feet were adorned with a pair of shiny red pumps with five-inch stiletto heels, and a pair of red silk stockings with seams clad her smooth legs. Her medium length hair was swept back and sprayed in place. She had on a pushup bra to accentuate her ample cleavage, and applied her makeup heavily. She wore lipstick and lip liner, whore-red and glossy. She had thought for sure her appearance would scream "Get your blowjobs here!", and she had spent plenty of time on the dance floor, shaking herself around, striking provocative poses, trying her best to seem available. She tried to down a shot of whiskey to calm herself, but she couldn't swallow it. It literally tasted and felt like poison.
She had felt herself getting weaker and more feverish as she tried to display herself, but to no avail. She tried to strike up a conversation with a burly, handsome guy who looked a bit like a trucker, but he blew her off. She fled the club dejected. Did she seem too desperate? What was the problem? This wasn't fair!! Was she going to die?
Now, alone downtown, unable to seduce a man, unable to eat a hamburger, she began to cry with the bleakness of her situation crushing her. How was it possible to have such difficulty just getting a guy to allow her to fellate him? She was scared of the danger of getting carried away; Danuta had warned her of that. She didn't want to kill. For so many different reasons. But she just wanted men to want her, to be irresistible, sexy, mysterious, compelling. And the whole immortality thing had seemed like an added bonus.
It was real. Her thoughts drifted back to how she had discovered the carefully ensconced coven. She had always dreamed, fantasized, prayed for this to be real. And it was. She had met Danuta at the medieval fair just over a year ago now. Danuta was a beautiful woman with small features, shoulder-length light brown hair, a slight figure, and stood about 5'4". She had some kind of European accent, and appearing to be about 32 years old or so. Their meeting had seemed innocent enough. She thought she had found a kindred spirit. It was true in far deeper and direr ways than she knew. That meeting had changed her life. And six days ago, her life had changed irrevocably. How could she have dreamed it would be such a terrible curse, an open mockery of her womanhood, simply reinforcing all of her shortcomings, and threatening to end her life because of them...
She stumbled and steadied herself against the glass of the hotel lobby window. The cool night air of downtown gently rustled past her. She felt a shiver and flash of cold, but the burning heat was still there. She thought she was about to pass out...
"Miss?" called out the voice of an older man. "Miss, are you all right? You don't look well at all, do you need me to call an ambulance?"
She turned to face the source of the voice. An elderly man, perhaps in his early seventies, dressed in the smart uniform of a bellhop had entered the street and was regarding her with concern. It was a Tuesday night, and at just past midnight, they were the only two on the street. She was ready to burst out crying again, her face already streaked with tears and sweat. An ambulance couldn't help her!
She tried to say something, but knew nothing she said would make any difference. She lurched and began to collapse to the sidewalk.
The bellhop reacted with concern and alarm, and tried to reach out to catch her fall. His legs and reflexes weren't as effective as when he was a younger man, and he only partially succeeded. Susan fell forward and knocked him off his feet as well. She ended up sprawled across his thighs as he landed on his rump, giving up his efforts to catch her in an instinctive flailing to try to prevent injury to his own person.
He gasped out in pain as they met the concrete.
Susan sobbed in her plight. It was hopeless. It was useless. She was such a fool.
The elderly bellhop grimaced in pain. He tentatively moved, testing his limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken. His less-than-graceful attempt at gallantry had certainly bruised his buttocks and hands though. He winced and inhaled sharply. He regarded the afflicted young mess that had just landed in his lap.
"Miss? Miss? Are you still with me? I'm going to call an ambulance, ok? You just stay here..."
He began to shuffle in an attempt to gently extricate himself from beneath her and rise.
She was slipping away. Blackness was going to take her. She was forced into action. She had no choice. What could she do? There was no choice!! She needed sperm. She wouldn't last another minute without it.
She looked up into his eyes, the fire of hunger giving her clarity. She held his hips and tried to restrain him from rising. He returned her gaze, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.
She began fumbling with his trousers, her fingers seeking to undo the button and unzip his fly.
"Miss? Miss, what are you doing? You're not well, I need to... What? Stop! Miss! What..."
He fought to thwart her actions, but her last, desperate chance for life had given her a surge of strength. She rose to her knees and crouched over him. She loosed the button of his trousers and tugged the fly down.
