Moxie's was, as per usual, absolutely packed. The only thing louder than the din of its patrons was the harsh, blaring punk-rock which constantly permeated the bar. Camille liked it that way; the aesthetic of the bar gave her the perfect excuse to act distant and aloof, she was just that cool goth bartender who rarely said more than a few words to any of the customers. That was for the best, to be honest, whenever people got to talking with her she had a tendency to slip up and reveal things she wasn't meant to reveal. But, for the most part, Camille had kept her secret nice and safe. There was really only one persistent thorn in her side with regard to ensuring nobody found out she'd been alive since the late seventeenth century. Unfortunately, said thorn just so happened to be walking through the front door with a shy, but eager look on her face. Rolling her eyes, Camille huffed and hung her head as that nuisance of a girl caught a glimpse of the vampiress, blushed, and began to scurry toward the bar. Admittedly, this had all been her own fault, it was her own carelessness which had gotten her into this mess.
* * *
On a warm July evening, Amanda found herself nervously lingering outside one of her city's reputably gay bars. She'd only recently come to realize herself as a lover of other women, and was very much what many would refer to as a "baby gay." Finding herself far too shy to enter the bar of her own volition, Amanda instead made a few awkward sweeps past the front door, only to turn around and hope that this time she'd work up the courage to enter. It was while doing this that she heard a sound in the alleyway behind Moxie's akin to a yelp, hiss, then what may have been a stifled moan. Now, Amanda wasn't one to go looking for trouble, but some drive pushed her to investigate, call it a sense of duty to look out for those in need. That was how she first lay eyes on Camille, hunched over with her fangs buried in the neck of a young woman whose blood she greedily partook of. And there was this look to the girl: her eyelids half lidded, lips oh so slightly parted, knees weak as she leaned all her weight against Camille's taller frame while staring blankly ahead with empty, dreamy eyes and dilated pupils. Her entire body had shook with pure unbridled pleasure, and Amanda had stood frozen in place, just watching.
The rational part of her brain had told her to run, here was what appeared to be a literal vampire, draining someone's blood. If she finished feeding off this woman and turned to see some strange girl standing at the entrance to the alleyway just watching her there was no telling how she might react. But Amanda's feet remained firmly planted right where they were as, despite the fear and shock telling her to run, two other feelings completely overpowered her: arousal, and envy. The woman before her looked so absolutely awash with pure sexual bliss. But beyond that, there was something else. She looked at peace. Without any worries, lacking a single care, perhaps even thoughtless in the face of the all-consuming pleasure she was locked in. And no matter how loudly her fight or flight instincts screamed at her to run, some other primal part of Amanda's brain wished desperately to feel what that woman felt as the vampiress drank from her.
That wistful moment didn't last; it had barely been a few moments when, consumed by her own fantasies, Amanda exhaled, and along with it came a needy little whimper. Without missing a beat the vampiress had gone rigid, straightening out and turning abruptly to follow the noise. For the woman's part, a light moan escaped her lisp as the fangs left her, but she otherwise didn't react. Her face retained its vacant expression as she teetered helplessly without the support she had previously been afforded. It was hard to take her eyes off that woman, off of how completely blissed out she looked, but at the sound of the vampiress clearing her throat, Amanda's eyes snapped back to the tall figure looming in the alleyway. "This isn't what it looks like," her voice cut through the silence, authoritative, sharp, but clearly nervous. Amanda shook under that gaze, but the same part of her brain which kept her from running before still held her firmly in place. It was also then which Amanda was able to catch a glimpse of a Moxy's nametag pinned to the vampiress' tank-top, and learned Camille's name.
"Um, o-okay," Amanda stammered. Given the two very clear bite marks on the 'victim's' neck, the elongated fangs, and the blood still staining Camille's lips, that was very clearly a lie, but Amanda wasn't one to argue with a literal fantasy monster. Instead she just trembled in place, finding it impossible to ignore the warm, melty feeling that rose in her core when that icy gaze was fixed upon her.
When Amanda didn't simply nod and go on her way, Camille wiped her mouth and glanced down at her pale, slender bloodstained hand. Sighing, she slumped her shoulders and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay look, she and I were just engaged in some roleplay, alright? This was all completely consensual. She's my girlfriend, right, babe?" Her eyes fell upon the dazed woman in the alleyway, before rushing to catch her as she nearly toppled over.
"Mmm, yes Mistress." Perhaps for most, the distant monotone of her voice, the complete lack of any sort of change in her body language or response besides her words, the trail of drool trickling from her parted lips, would have sparked fear and doubt. Obviously Camille's story was unconvincing. This was no simple roleplay, and she was no simple woman. Regardless of whether or not they truly were lovers, the woman on the receiving end of Camille's bite was in no state to make any claim to consent on her own, she was clearly just mindlessly parroting what she'd been instructed to say. Surely for most that would be a terrifying thing to say, a person so completely empty, so weak, so totally dominated both in body and mind. But whatever new, strange feelings Camille had awakened in Amanda screamed otherwise.
