Hunters Ch. 02

"Mere social interaction will do it, but that's poor fare. Sex is fifty times better, but blood itself is ten times better than sex. It's like..."

Here rote repetition failed her, and experience took over. She faltered, as she sought for the right words to describe something new.

"It's like drinking pure caffeine," she said, finding an analogy I would appreciate.

"It's not like being drunk," she continued. "And you don't even notice the food value of the blood. You just feel so POWERFUL. Maybe that's what heroin feels like, I don't know. It's... not the blood itself, but the blood is a conduit for life. It's like the difference between GSM data and optical fibre."

At this point, I was happy to let my journalist's instincts take over and just keep asking questions.

"If blood is a conduit, what about cum?"

"Half as good as blood," she said with a trace of a twisted grin flitting across her lips.

"What about sunlight?"

"We take damage from UV faster, and heal slower, but it's not something we can't manage."

"Garlic?"

That laugh was still from memory, but it was happy and sounded more genuine.

"Garlic's healthy," she said, "and an antibiotic. It's good for us!"

"Do you need to breathe?"

She nodded. "The body is still biology."

"Poison, then?"

She shivered in sudden revulsion, and it seemed starkly real.

"The body is poisoned," she said, "but the vampire still lives. We can become properly undead, and even an animated corpse. Given time, anything can be healed if the vampire continues. Which is why, before you ask, the only sure way to kill a vampire is to kill the body by destruction - fire, beheading or destroying or removing the heart - or starvation. And if that happens, the body decomposes normally."

"Religious iconography?"

"As genuine as the religion. If you find one that works, let me know."

"Wooden stakes?"

"Wood is what was once alive and is now dead. It causes a spreading decomposition while it's in touch with our raw flesh - even our skin may not be enough defence. For the same reason, we have to drink blood directly from the living vein. Once it's begun to cool, it's poison to the vampire."

I suddenly realised that although I was talking as a journalist, I had let my emotions blunt my skills, and I belatedly noticed that she was facing me directly, and staring at me very steadily. With a shock, I realised that she had to be wondering if I was intending to kill her.

I stared at her, lost for words and beginning to realise the full significance of what had happened.

For a moment, we were at an impasse.

"You came back," I finally said. "Did you have to?"

She seemed to decide to trust me, then. She came back to sit beside me on the bed, and held my hand in hers, a gesture that may have been calculated but which I appreciated.

"I need to maintain my old life," she said, "but they offered to make you my human servant. They were against me being honest with you."

I nearly asked about that "human servant" bit, but decided that if their powers of short term mind control were that good, I could guess as much as I needed to for the time being.

"Thank you," I said, for many different reasons. "What do we do now?"

She took a deep breath. "Can you live with me?"

I looked her straight in the eye and said "Yes," without even having to think about it.

"Then we keep on going," she said. "I still eat, can still go out in the sun, don't get repelled by crosses any more than I used to. I don't even need blood, if I'm having to deal with people all day."

"Really?" I asked. "I was hoping we could try something new. I was getting bored with just nipple clamps."

She laughed again, a bark that mingled appreciation of the joke with a growing realisation that her intellectual response would not be accompanied by an emotional response.

"You," she said, "are a pervert."

"Yes," I replied, "and that's why you love me." I kissed her, full and lovingly.

"I can't argue with that," she said, breaking away for just long enough to say that, then returning the kiss with interest.

I pulled back, this time, although the sexual contact was affecting me as much as it ever had, if not, with the added emotional turmoil of the day, more so. "If you don't feel sexual pleasure, but you feed on energy, what do you feel?"

She didn't entirely let go of me as she answered.

"I already said satisfaction, but that's only part of it. I feel hunger satiated, and the more I eat the more I feel."

"The better you are, the better you like it," I ventured, deliberately finding the dirtiest angle I could.

She bared her teeth at me, a gesture that had been sexy even before the threat of biting me gained a new dimension.

"You could say that," she said. "And since I intend to maintain our current arrangement vis-a-vis more or less monogamy, I'm just going to have to get all my gourmet meals out of you, aren't I?"

She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed backwards, rolling on top of me as I landed on my back on the bed, but the movement had dislodged one final piece of unanswered question from the back of my mind, and I grabbed her hands, holding them still.

"Hold on," I said as she raised a questioning eyebrow, "exactly why the fuck does a vampire need to cut their victims?"

"Well," she drawled out as she drew her legs up beside me and rested her pelvis on mine, causing a deliciously sweet ache in my swelling groin, "I'd like to be able to say that it's to keep a low profile, or to be neater, but the truth is," she drew her lips back to her gums, revealing a perfect set of human teeth, "no fangs."

"Well, that's a bit of a let down," I said in my most disinterested voice.

In answer, she lunged forwards and expertly caught my nipple between her teeth through my shirt, making me cry out in surprise yet still arch up towards her.

"I'll still bite you if you want me to," she hissed against my ear as her fingernails drew down my chest to the hem of my shirt and reversed, peeling it off my skin.

I almost said something witty in response, but the sex in the air, the mingled emotions of shock, confusion, relief and lingering betrayal, and the unreality of how desirable she was, and how her body was affecting me, were all combining to make thinking difficult.

I had held on for as long as I could, but my nervous energy was wearing out.

I tried to process what she had just said on all its levels - flirting, candour, calculated assessment of opportunities - but she sat up and pulled her dress over her head, releasing her braless breasts, and I reached for them with a mindless and undeniable impulse.

I barely heard her croon in encouragement as I held her in my hands and wrapped my lips around one nipple, suckling with less than my usual, effective, skill and more raw need.

Her skin tasted human - salty with a night's worth of sweat, her own distinctive taste still present but now more compelling, the texture silkier, her smell driving conscious thought from my head with a rush of pure lust from my groin.

"It's a pity I can't lactate at will," she murmured as she gently detached my mouth from her now rigid nipple, and pushed me back on to the bed, moving up my body in one cat-lithe movement to hold her moist and bare pussy above my mouth. "You should be able to drink me. It'd make you such a helpless little slut."

I felt myself drowning in her scent, no longer able to process what she was saying, and I needed no extra encouragement to open my mouth and slide my tongue along her lips, pathetically eager to taste her dew before worming my way inside her as she lowered herself onto my face.

She rocked above me and crooned in encouragement as I felt my head sing from arousal and yet whirl about an insubstantial and black pool inside it.

I felt that I should recognise this feeling, but it was distinctly unimportant as I heard her murmur "Poor thing, so weak still. I was so hoping for a challenge. Don't go under, my dear, I need you to know what I'm doing to you.

"Now drink me."

With a small gasp that, even then, had the quality of a remembered sound about it, she came, and I felt the splash on my lips.

I swallowed her cum as greedily as I had swallowed Mirka's, but I did not spiral in to oblivion this time. I felt something holding me and, looking up along the taut length of her torso, past her tight breasts to her bright but hard eyes, I knew in my bones that I was, helplessly, her slave in every thought and deed.

"Good little puppy," she purred down at me, before placing her hands on either side of my head and, with a startlingly fast flick of her body, throwing her legs back straight and dropping on top of me, her tongue thrusting possessively into my mouth and licking around the inside of my teeth.

She glided down my body and suddenly I was deep inside her throat, crying out even in my fugue state as she sucked me with vampire concentration adding to her intimate knowledge of my reactions.

I felt her will locking my wrists to the bed, no shackles needed to keep me pinned with arms spread as she let my body writhe, helplessly and pathetically desperate to cum as she kept me on the edge, my cock painful between her lips as her hands massaged and squeezed my balls, her mind keeping me from cumming even when my body couldn't.

She drew back, rubbing her saliva over my cock, and said "Up."

I scrambled to my knees, limbs mechanical, as she slid on hands and knees up the bed, and grabbed the head-board.

She didn't need to tell me to move behind her, grab her hips with both hands and push inside her.

Her will was still preventing me from cumming, and the pain in my cock was driving all thoughts from my head as my body slammed into her over, and over, and over again.

It took incredible stimulation to make Rachel cum without clitoral stimulation as well, but she made me fuck her until she did, jerking and gasping with a sound like the most genuine fake orgasm I had ever heard as lactic acid made every muscle in my body scream with pain.

She let me stop when she came and I collapsed sideways, sprawling on the bed with a sob of pain as my over-stimulated cock slapped against my belly.

Rachel, still as lithe and as poised as a gymnast, swung herself astride my hips and suddenly I was inside her again, another sob of pain as I bumped into her cervix.

She sat up, there was a flash of steel in her hand, and she pulled on one nipple, distending it until she drove a long, thick needle straight through from top to bottom, pulling it out immediately and letting blood start welling out onto the swell of her breast.

"This is how I lactate for you," she whispered as she leant forwards and pressed the bloody nipple into my mouth.

I sucked upon it greedily, wantonly, the taste of the blood in my mouth the most potent, the headiest liquor I had ever tasted.

"Blood and intent," she told me with a fond note in her voice, "will pass the vampire to you."

As I sucked her blood from her hard nipple, she finally let me cum and my orgasm struck me brutally. I bit down almost hard enough to tear her flesh, a satisfied moan the only response she gave as I poured myself into her.

I felt as though her blood was burning its way down to my stomach like whiskey, then into my veins and all throughout my body. I felt detached, I felt surreal, and then I felt as though I was feverishly hallucinating as all my old human emotions were burned away and my human body altered.

I lay on the bed and burned for an hour as the vampire infected me, then fell into a sleep of physical exhaustion.

I awoke feeling more than just refreshed. For now I was vampire. Now, I was infinitely better.