My formal greeting to my father—a greeting any servant would give their master—was rewarded with nothing more than his nod of acknowledgment. But that small, seemingly inconsequential motion, meant more to me that what others would see. I love my father, respect him, and so whenever we were in the public's eye—especially like those of the Elders' class or other Purebreeds—I do all I can to keep his reputation up. I act the humble daughter, in reverence to his power and status. He treats me as he would any other Vampire. He is our monarch and I his loyal servant.
When formalities were over and done with, my father and I sat down in our respective seats.
Headmaster Cromwell spoke. "Now, my Princess. Our Lord has already informed me of your reasons for honoring our school with your enrollment." I slid a glance to my father, unsure as to what his motives were for helping me, or if he was here to hinder. Unaware of my sudden suspicion in everything, the headmaster continued. "As you are aware, this is an all male school. We are not often blessed with the presence of a beautiful young woman such as yourself and our students can be a bit...crude. To say the least. They have yet to be taught the proper ways of respect."
"Just get to the point, Mr. Cromwell. Are you trying to tell me to not take their words or antics to heart?"
As the male verbally fumbled for something to say to that, my father tipped back his head and laughed. The deep sound stopped the babble, bringing Cromwell's eyes to the source. Everything about my father was transfixing, and he had no qualms about using every bit of himself to his advantage.
Ending the laughter, he brought his gaze back to Cromwell's. "I suppose your students are not the only ones in need of a good lesson, James."
Despite the levity of his words, I took them as the reprimand that they were. Sliding out of my seat, I knelt at his feet, hands clutching together in front of me like a nun praying to her savior. But Father was anything but Jesus Christ, and I was anything but nun-ish.
I lowered my head, eyes closed, not even allowing myself to gaze upon his bare feet with their perfect toes. "Forgive me, Father. I spoke out of place."
"That you did." I flinched at his words, even as the sound of his voice had my body clenching in lust. Then I felt his hand on the top of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. "Perhaps you may earn back my graces if you are successful in apologizing to the one you interrupted." His suggestion was an off-hand murmur, but the power he exuded, coupled with his touch, had me eager to do his bidding. Aching to do his bidding.
"Yes, Father."
With the wave of his hand the heavy ornate desk slid to the side without so much as a touch. Knowing that I wasn't allowed off my knees until my request for forgiveness was accepted, I turned and crawled to Cromwell. Without raising my eyes, my hands slid up his legs, his thighs, feeling the toned muscles beneath the black slacks. Born Vampires aged as normally as humans until puberty. That was when their growth hit a bump. There are a lot of eighteen-year-old vampires who still look like they're twelve. Cromwell wasn't eighteen, though. He was on his third century, and looked around twenty-eight. His hair was the color somewhere between dark blond and light brown. His eyes were a pretty shade of brown-gold. As stated before, all Born Vampires are unearthly beautiful. Cromwell was no exception.
My hands found his zipper, releasing the binding with practiced ease. He was already semi-hard. I could feel his lust radiating, but it was a nerve-wracking experience for him to get an apology from his Lord's daughter, while his Lord was there to watch—enjoy. But I've done enough apologizing in my father's presence, most at his command. It was nothing new for me to take another Vampire's dick in my mouth, being careful of my fangs, with my father's eyes on me.
My apology was thorough and well enjoyed, if the hardening of his cock was anything to go by. Within seconds the flesh was solid as steel, covered in silken velvety skin. The pre-cum that beaded at the tip of his cock was like a taste of ambrosia; yet another alluring tactic that Vampires had. Being sexual creatures, everything that had to do with the subject was a weapon in and of itself for us.
Sucking harder, I tried my damnedest to bring him to orgasm. My body hot with need, thighs quivering with both holding myself up and wanting to open for penetration. My pussy was soaked, juices running down my thighs to pool at my knees. But an apology meant that the one in the wrong gave the pleasure and allowed themselves none of their own.
Though I have to admit that I loved sucking dick. I loved having something in my mouth. And the added taste of a Vampire's cum was yet another pleasure of mine.
Cromwell's hands tightened at his sides, and I knew he was close.
"You may place your hands upon her, if you wish, James." My father's voice was soft and amused, and the power of his deep tones was a stroke within my womb. It nearly had me cumming. But that was the point. It was against the rules of a sincere apology to allow yourself any form of release unless permitted by the one you're apologizing to. Father loved toying with the ones on their knees, and despite me being his daughter, I was no exception. He would play his power along my body and silently laugh at me when I forced myself not to orgasm. It was cruel on his part and that was the whole point. He was a spawn of Hell, after all.
