It is now the mid eighteenth century, America is still known as ‘The Colonies’ to it’s British masters. But there is unrest in the air. There is quiet talk of rebellion, spoken in hushed tones, in the taverns as well as in the houses of the rich and influential.
We had been forced to move many times over the years. When you do not age while all those around you do, it tends to arouse suspicion.
We had returned to Georgia five years earlier, it was still our home, but it was not the same.
And there were British troops, ‘Redcoats’, everywhere.
Death Of An Innocent
I walked along the streets as dusk overtook the daylight and shadows grew longer. My thoughts go back to where it all began. The island and the woman I so deeply loved, Flower Of The Moon.
Had it really been almost a two score and ten years?
Had so much, and yet so little changed?
There were troops in town this evening, their bright red coats muted by the dying light.
I tried to ignore them as I made my way toward the inn, but it was not to be, a group of soldiers was approaching. They had had too much ale and were in the process of bullying their way along.
I wrapped my cloak about me and bowed my head as they passed, when the largest shouldered me aside, I scurried to the side, never taking my eyes from them.
I watched these bullies as they made their way to the local brothel and went inside.
I waited for these stalwarts for a half hour before they came out, the madam behind them screaming in anger and fear, her eyes streaming tears.
I approached the brothel and took the madams eyes into mine,
”What has happened in here?
” I interrogated her mentally and mentally she responded…
“The bastards! They killed her!! A child, a virgin. and they killed her!”
“Show me!” I ordered and the trembling madam led me to the room.
She was a young girl, a child really, no more than 12, perhaps 13 years old. She lay there, a small, fragile object, broken like a china doll.
They had beaten her, savagely beaten her. There were bruises and welts, scratches and cuts all over her body. Her arms and legs spread at obscene angles, impossible lest her bones had been broken.
I dipped the tip of my finger in a spot of her blood and tasted it. She had died a virgin.
“The soldiers tried to take her all at once, she refused, this is the result.” The madam said, trying, it seemed, to shift the blame to this poor child. But it was she herself that bore the blame.
“And who brought the soldiers to her room?” I asked, my eyes holding hers, my mind squeezing hers.
“I did,” she sobbed.
I seized the woman and buried my fangs in her throat. This was prey that was of no value to the world and would not be missed. The warm blood filled me, quieting the burning in my veins as I drank deeply of her life fluid as well as her life force, which was weak and thin.
When she had given all to me, and her heart ceased to beat, I tore out her throat and cast her on the bed next to the child, the death of whom, she had just paid for.
There would be some dead soldiers as well by the rising of the sun.
I started out of the room when I was confronted by two of the girls that worked there.
“The soldiers killed her didn’t they, Sir?” the younger of the two asked.
“Shh, it doesn’t matter child,” the older admonished her. “She’s free of this place now, that’s what matters.”
Then the older one looked at me again, “And who might you be?” she asked.
I could not let them tell anyone they had seen me here, yet I didn’t want to kill them…
“
You will do exactly as I bid you
,” I locked their eyes with mine, assuming control over their minds..
“Take us to your room
,” I ordered the older of the two.
She lead us to a small room that held a battered dresser, a large rumpled bed with soiled linen, a chair and a tarnished mirror.
The women wore nothing more than the flimsiest of wrappers, so undressing took no time.
“I want to watch you pleasure each other.” I said evenly, as I took a seat.
The women smiled at one another, they had been down this road before.
As they undressed I had the chance to inspect their bodies. They were quite pretty, especially for prostitutes.
The younger was the more voluptuous of the two. Her breasts were large and heavy, firm but by no means high. Her waist was in proportion to her breasts and hips and her legs were straight and strong. Like her older companion, she was dark of hair and eyes, and unlike her friend, darker of skin. Not a black, but more a Creole. Her pretty face was young, but not innocent. This girl had been here some time and had seen and done much for one of her few years.
The older of the two was slim, her breasts, also large, were firm and the long nipples pointed up. Her belly was flat and hard, flaring into smoothly rounded hips then continuing down to become long, well turned legs. When I looked at her face I saw a vision of courage. This woman, like so many of her profession, had been sold into this life in order to pay off family debts. But she had survived. She had never lost her will to escape. For this reason I found myself drawn to her, but I put that aside, for the time being.
“Get on the bed, both of you,” I instructed them. “I want to see you pleasure each other, then yourselves.”
The women began kissing at once, their mouths joined as their hands explored each other; touching, feeling and caressing one another’s breasts, thighs, pussies.
Their breathing became more rapid as their passions built. This was not a mere mechanical performance, these women had been doing this together for some time. They shared feelings for one another.
The older one began sucking the breasts of her young lover, kissing and licking her large nipples until they grew firm and stood away from her aureole, proud and erect.
The younger one began to moan softly as she felt the older woman’s mouth moving down her rounded belly to find her lush patch of dark curls.
She gasped as her pussy felt the contact. I could hear the wet sucking sounds that the older woman’s mouth made as she drew her lovers pouting lips into her mouth.
There was a rustle of bedclothes as the women changed position. Now they were laying together, their heads between the others legs. Two mouths loving two pussies, wetly, passionately.
Moans of pleasure emanated from the creaking bed as the women continued to lick and suck each other. A gasp, a groan, a word of affection, interspersed with the wet sounds of their mouths upon each other.
I could feel myself becoming hard as I sat there watching this erotic performance, but I knew it would serve me no purpose to join them. I merely watched as each woman brought the other to orgasm.
Theirs were demonstrative orgasms, filled with moaning and tossing about in the grip of their passion. After some moments of orgasmic bliss, they rolled away from one another and lay there, catching their breath and regaining their composure.
The older one sat up and looked at me, “Would you like me to take care of you Sir?” She asked, her eyes fixed upon the bulge in my breeches.
“Perhaps another time. I would like to watch your pleasure yourselves now while I pleasure myself.” I unfastened my breeches and freed my erect cock.
Both women eyed it with professional interest as I began to slowly stroke it up and down.
“Now, I want to see how you pleasure yourselves.”
The younger one sat on the edge of the bed, legs apart, and ran her hands over her large breasts, cupping them, kneading the warm flesh, then lifting first one, then the other, to her lips to suck and lick her own nipples.
The older one knelt on the bed, facing me, and caressed her breasts. Too small for her to bring them to her lips, she contented herself with manually stimulating them, her thumbs teasing her nipples to erection before one hand ran down her flat belly and her fingers buried themselves in her now soaking pussy.
The younger one had changed positions and was now on her side, one leg raised. She had taken a candle and had inserted it in her pussy - while her finger probed her ass - moving slowly in and out as she guided the candlestick with her other hand. Her mouth was open and she was breathing rapidly again, her body beginning to sweat. In and out she moved, the candle and her hand in alternating rhythm, as one went in, the other was drawn out. She would soon be ready to climax.
The older woman was content to use her fingers, two in her soaking, hot, pussy, her thumb in her clutching asshole.
As I watched, I continued to stroke my hard cock, slowly, up and down the hard shaft as my balls churned but refused to fill.
I looked to the bed once again, the younger one had her eyes closed as she imagined herself in the arms of some dream lover. The older woman’s eyes were fixed upon my cock. As my hand moved up and down, her fingers moved in and out. I could see she was imagining that it was I that was fucking her and not herself.
I moved to the bed and knelt behind the women, I picked up the stroking of my cock again as I bid them not to stop. The wet sounds that came from their sopping pussies told me that they had no intention of stopping.
I placed my lips on the younger ones throat, I could feel how close she was. I reached over and caressed her full, heavy, breasts urging her to cum.
She responded as I had expected, her orgasm was powerful as her blood began to course through her veins, hot, rich, blood. Blood being borne along by a tide of passion.
My fangs went painlessly into her throat, piercing her jugular vein.
The blood that flowed was hot, clean, rich. Full of the life that this woman lived with such gusto. The sensation of my lips on her neck drove her to a higher level of passion as she came in torrents, her heart pumping her blood faster and faster through her into my mouth. Just before the point of no return, I withdrew my fangs and let her lay back on the bed.
I moved to the older woman and knelt behind her. She reached back and took my rigid cock in her hand and began stroking it as her fingers moved in and out of her own body. My lips grazed her throat. She too was at the point of orgasm. I reached around her and cupped her breasts, pulling her back toward me I felt her warm skin on me. Her breasts heaving as the nipples grew harder and her hands moved faster, stroking my hard cock as she pumped her fingers in and out of her own pussy and asshole.
As she came, her grip upon my cock grew tighter. When my fangs slid into her vein, the grip became tighter still. Her blood was as rich as the younger ones, perhaps richer, it flowed quickly and was sweet and hot, pushed along by her, considerable, passion and sweetened by her apparent attraction to me. As I felt her life force approaching I withdrew, letting her lay back on he bed.
I looked down at the two women and made a quick decision. I entered their minds and found that the younger was called Antoinette, the older Samantha.
