Part 2: Shadows
Introduction: Luna Crescente
Did you like how Arianthe told her story on the night of the dinner party? I admit that I picked up a copy, and while her initial descriptions of me were a bit catty (I'm way older than that Claudia character was), I can't really fault her for detesting me at first. I was a bitch, and I still
am
a bitch. Just not to her. Never again.
I live a life of secrets, and I know that's not really shocking news given that I'm a vampire. All of us have a few skeletons in our closets, even fledgling like me. Honestly, I've only been living the unlife for ten years now, which may seem like a lot to the living. To the dead? It's nothing. I'm a flash in the pan, and might as well still be going through my reawakening pangs. Generally speaking I have no plans to get involved with the ancients, nor even the entrenched vampire aristocracy of the night courts in Europe, which is where I happen to live. Specifically, I live in a castle high up in the Italian Alps, and I live there with my sire Julien and the rest of his little harem.
I mention Arianthe only because she was sired after me, and until that point I was the youngest in our master's flock. I was spoiled and fussed over; I was his favorite toy. Of course, up until Arianthe came along, and I hated her for it. For the first time I'd found someone to protect me and accept me as I am, and that bitch, unknowingly, had ruined it all. Or so I'd thought. I'll admit right now that I was paranoid and filled with anger that anyone but Julien would know that I wasn't born a woman, yet lived like one anyway. If you want to be pedantic I'm a transgendered woman, or transgirl for short. Back when I was alive, the best I could do was take hormones when I could, and surgery was just never an option.
Luckily my frame is slight and short, and my features are cute and feminine. They've always been, even before I transitioned, and then transitioned again as a vampire. Now I can pass anywhere I go, save a bedroom, and at this point only a precious few people even
have
the right to bed me now. Being part of an influential undead aristocrat's house has its perks, after all.
But back to Arianthe. After that night of the dinner party, when everything seemed to happen at once, her care was transferred over to Julien's wife, Siran. Siran's a gorgeous, terrifying woman because she doesn't flaunt it. She doesn't need to. She is Julien's moon and stars, and he's the world to her. Even so, they live apart, and Arianthe was gifted to her as a present. Both Mistress and fledgling were very pleased with the arrangement, as was I. It meant that I got to be spoiled again.
And I'm being spoiled rotten.
Chapter 1: Primo Quarto
Vampire's don't sweat after a certain point in our maturation. It takes the body a few years to really and truly cross over into undeath, so for a while things like sweating or drooling or runny noses happen every once in a while. I've recently gotten over that stage, which is probably good given how I'd likely be slippery as hell right now beneath Julien.
We're currently in Venice, and it's a hot, sticky summer night. He's here on business, and I'm here because his business is stressful. Sometimes he delights in showing me around the canals and picking up some gorgeous thing to feed on, and sometimes he doesn't want to leave the hotel. Tonight it's the latter, and my fingers tensely grip the sheets as he moves over me, his hips concussing my ass as he fucks me hard. My breasts, small but natural at least, press into the sheets, my sensitive, hard nipples scraping on the soft cotton.
My master doesn't feel like talking through sex tonight, so the only background music is the ambient noise coming from the canal out the window, the street sounds further off, and the squeak of the mattress. He'd brought some of our living servants with us, just in case the hunting wasn't good in the city. Because of this both of us had fed just before, leaving our cocks rigid and almost painfully hard. Not that I can do anything about mine, given that he has my wrists gripped tightly and pressed to the bed by my shoulders. My knees and thighs burn a little with the effort of propping up my hips against his passionate thrusting, and every movement slides his fat cock in and out of my tight ring. He's getting close now, I can feel it, and every scrape and rub of the underside of his cock against my prostate makes my crown drool just a little more.
"Please!" I beg in a hoarse whisper, wriggling my shoulders a little.
"No." It's firm and dismissive, and I close my eyes, curling my toes.
"Master, please!" I really shouldn't have said that.
His left hand releases my wrist and grabs a fistful of my long blond hair instead. I gasp shrilly as he wrenches my head back, twisting my locks until the pressure on my scalp makes me whine pathetically like a dog. Or a bitch, if you want to get technical. The punishment only makes my slender dick twitch and jump, and the pain makes my body shudder and clench, especially around the thick meat stuffing my ass.
Julien doesn't last long after that, and I can hear it in the desperation of his grunts above me. His hips cram against mine, my slender ass still soft enough to make it comfortable for both of us as he lodges himself deep. Within me I can feel his shaft pulse as spurts of hot cum make the already tight fit a little tighter, and I whimper at the sensation. So good, so dirty, so perfect.
Neither of us need to breathe, but after hard sex we're both left panting out of habit. Hearing him breathe above me and feeling his weight push me down against the mattress satisfies my tremendous ego. Julien chose me, not any of his other girls. Therefore I must be the best. I must be his favorite - not Domina or Natasha, the latex and leather S&M duo, and not Veronica the brooding goth goddess (who I don't have a crush on, really. Okay, I do). And like I said, Arianthe is out of the picture.
As I revel in my position as the top girl while, currently, being on the bottom, Julien releases his hold on my hair and right wrist and pets along my back. "My darling girl, you know what I like."
With a small smile, I close my eyes and push, my body squeezing his still sensitive, softening cock. The man above me utters a soft moan as I expel him, his load of cum dribbling in his wake down along my tight balls and my shaft. I'm guided to lie on my back on the bed, and a ray of moonlight shines in through the open window to half illuminate my pale, nubile body. I look up at my master with my hazel eyes, and I admire the salt and pepper streaks in his black hair. I admire the handsome, noble lines of his face, and the fullness of his mouth. Right now he's smiling at me, his expression generous and affectionate. It's a mask, and I know it is. All vampires have to wear them when they're old enough, and Julien's no exception. Were he to not put any effort at all into his appearance, he'd have the intense, unfocussed, hungry stare that a few of the ancients have. But he clings to his humanity. It's easier for him that way.
I smile back up at him, sliding my right hand to my small breast and kneading it gently even as his hands, long-fingered and elegant, begin to see to my reward. His pearlescent spunk is more than enough to lubricate my cock, and he uses his right hand to stroke me slowly even as his left slips down to my buttocks. I feel two fingers slide into the emptiness there, left vacuous and wanting by his cock. It makes me squirm and arch my back, especially when he finds my prostate and rubs at it in just the way I like. My dick throbs in his hand and he strokes me harder, and I roll my head back in ecstasy.
I'm not allowed to touch myself below the waist when Julien spends time with me, so I try to keep myself busy at my chest. Those soft little mounds firm just slightly with desire, and I roll, pinch, and pull at the hard buds of my nipples. I can hear the soft rumble of his amusement, and my hazy eyes open to look up at him again.
"You're a slut, Tammie" he purrs, stroking firmly. The man has this technique to simulate the slippery tight reluctance of anal sex with his hand, and I almost choke as it feels like my dick is sinking into his body, even though it isn't.
With my voice half-cracking in extremity I stammer "I kn... know!"
"Say it, my darling."
"I'm a slut." I'm breathing heavier now, feeling just a little shamed and more than a little on fire because of it. My mind's kind of a fucked-up place that he helps to set right, and things arouse me that probably shouldn't.
"Again." His hand sinks down thick and slow again, and I grab a pillow and wail into it.
"I'M A SLUT!" I cry into the pillow, my chest heaving and my hips shaking. He has me on fire, like I might burn to cinders any second. I can't stand it. I have to finish!
My reward then comes as he dips his head, and after another thick, tight pass of his hand I feel my crown and shaft sink into the heat and perfection of his mouth. He knows what's going to happen, and I know he knows. Which is why when I shoot my desperate load into his throat I merely relish it like a little slice of heaven that's entirely mine. Even as my balls empty and I melt against the sheets, exhausted, he suckles my soft, shrinking cock to have every last drop for himself, tasting his own cum on my flushed, hairless genitals. I'm in love with the man in a surreal sort of way. I know that he adores me as his servant and his slut, but it's not going to be a love like he has with his wife. And, oddly, I'm alright with that.
I like what we have, right now like this, and I never thought I would. Not when I was alive, anyway.
Julien spends the next seven nights in Venice, ensuring that our Adriatic connections love him just as much as they did fifty years ago. Unfortunately for the old guard vampires, the world is changing very fast. Back around the fall of the Roman empire, very little changed for centuries at a time, depending on where you'd carved a niche for yourself. One could count on isolation and local leadership and influence to keep things prosperous and safe for one's 'family' indefinitely. Many vampires were sired and raised in the dark ages, a time of prosperity for the unliving. So much of the world was unknown, and it was all ours.
