De sang et d'amour

1416

My name is Giselle Lyons, and this is my story.

It was raining softly when she found me, hiding in a semi-collapsed hovel on a bolster of hay, near a woodside road in the French countryside. Annabelle, Marquess of Lyons said she could smell me from the road, like a doe in rut. I had heard the hoof beats of a horse outside, saw a noble woman framed in the sagging doorway, dressed in silks and brocade, she helped me to my feet, looked at me as if assessing a servant.

Taking me in her arms I felt her mouth on my neck, the pinch of her teeth, and the scent of my blood as she fed until I was so lightheaded, I could no longer stand.

I had been foraging in the area. At barely 18 I had been married to a pimple-faced farmer who had repeatedly neglected to pay his taxes and was promptly conscripted into the king's army only to die ignominiously in battle on the field at Agincourt. Thrown off the farm, I found what sustenance I could in the wilds of the countryside and by begging scraps from strangers.

The Marquess was a true beauty. Self-assured, well dressed, she comported herself with a natural nobility that at the same time was accessible to all. Appearing to be only a few years my senior, she was in fact in her late fifties when we first met.

We rested in the ruined hovel until I'd regained some of my strength, after which she helped me onto her horse. She rode like a man, which was a rarity for that period, and I hung onto her for dear life as we negotiated the forest road. That evening we arrived at a good-sized town and she rented a room at the local tavern. We were to stay there for several days before moving on.

Insisting that we sleep in the same bed, she also insisted that we sleep naked. At night, she would explore my body. One of the only things I could be proud of in my short life, I was small in stature, brown hair and eyes, but a nice figure. That first night she touched me everywhere finding spots that evoked such pleasure as I had never known from my scant experiences with the few of the village boys who I'd entertained, and eventually my husband.

The second evening after dinner, we again retired to our bedchamber and she again explored me with her hands, only this time her mouth found mine and we kissed like lovers. Her kisses fell on every inch of my body, it seemed. Her mouth found the cleft between my legs and she introduced me to such things as I had never imagined women could do with other women. Having shown me, she directed me to do the same to her. Her musky scent, setting me atingle. Her musk in my mouth, a delicacy beyond description.

The third evening she fed on me again. My body was afire as if she were between my legs. My sight blurred as she feasted on my essence, the smell of my blood in her mouth making me swoon, as I had the previous night in her bedstead. Le petit mort, the little death, orgasm. The moment when things cease to exist in a linear fashion.

The following morning, after we had broken fast, we were again on the move. To another nearby village where she maintained a small estate.

"A few days hence, I shall feed on you a third time. We will say the ancient spells, and burn the incense and you will become as I am. We will be bound to each other as lovers." She told me.

"Anything to be in your arms again, Mistress." I replied. She smiled sweetly, secure in the knowledge that we were bound as lovers already.

The estate was simple but well maintained. A small villa surrounded by a few cottages inhabited by the estate caretakers. The furnishings were comparatively elegant compared to anything I'd ever experienced in my simple life.

We ate, drank, and made love for several days. Eventually she led me to a locked room. It was nearly midnight. There was a pentacle on the floor with candles at each vertex. We stood naked in the center, our arms wrapped around each other. I felt her breath on my neck. I felt the anticipatory wetness between my thighs. She hovered there, her lips against my skin, kissing me, until the clock began to toll midnight and I felt her teeth pierce my skin, and smelled the unmistakable scent of my blood gift to her.

I felt my consciousness ebb, the room growing dark, and finally the feeling that I was being eased down onto the floor. I was simultaneously passing out and orgasming.

I awoke in our bed the next morning. I felt... different, augmented. My senses all seemed sharper. I could smell her in bed next to me before I even opened my eyes.

"You've made me." I said.

"Yes. You are mine in every way now, Giselle." She answered. And with that said, we made love to each other with a primal intensity as only two vampires can.

1870

The streets of Paris in the mid 1800's were a veritable playground of debauchery. Life with Annabelle Lyons as she now referred to herself, was a dreamy erotic adventure. Love with her never got old or became dull. The city was ours, in every imaginable way, made for vampires. The street whores could be had in cheap and willing abundance, only too happy to be fed from for a few centimes compensation. We had a townhouse in a posh neighborhood just a short walk from the Champs Elysees.

If there was one overarching advantage to having a vampire's lifespan it was the opportunity one had to invest. Annabelle and I had become rather shrewd, and as a result rather wealthy. Flower plantations for the perfume industry, vineyards in the south of France and Italy, cattle farms in Argentina and the United States. A shipyard in Hamburg. As well as extensive real estate holdings worldwide. We wanted for nothing.

Waking up horny every morning knowing she felt exactly the same, seldom did a day go by that we didn't make love at least once. Wandering the streets together at night, looking for a cute little whore to drain. Every once in a while, hitting one who'd been drinking absinthe.

It was truly a magical time to be alive.

1937

New York was abustle with life. The world was in turmoil, and it looked like war was once again looming on the horizon in Europe. We had mostly divested our German holdings before the prior conflict, but there was one small watchmaking factory that we were about to close on the sale of. Annabelle and I usually travelled together, but this had come up at a rather awkward time and Annabelle had gone alone to Hamburg to sign the paperwork.

I had had a strong sense of foreboding, but Annabelle pointed out that it had to be handled, and that putting it off was a bad move.

She had taken a ship over and signed the paperwork the day of her vessel's arrival. The next evening, she boarded LZ-129 at the Hamburg airfield, The Hindenburg. Annabelle was to call me upon arrival. I had sent a car down to pick her up in Lakehurst. The airship had burst into flames while attempting to dock, and there were dozens of fatalities. Annabelle was among them, her remains never found, naturally. My heart was broken. The love of my life was gone forever.

Last year

I spotted her on Roosevelt Ave. She was working a streetcorner. She was young but looked tired beyond her years. I knew how she felt. I'm not exactly sure what drew me to her. Perhaps it was similar to what had made Annabelle investigate a ruined hovel some centuries back. She had a hot figure but was a bit emaciated from drug use. She was a junkie, I could tell the look. I could smell it on her. I didn't care. I wanted her. Bad.

Dark red hair, tired green eyes. Busty, but with a slender waist, and a really cute ass, she was wearing fuck-me pumps, a crop top that didn't quite cover the bottoms of her boobs, and dirty spandex capris that must have been sexy at one time. I offered her a C note and had her in a nearby alley in under a minute my mouth at her neck. I could tell she was high as fuck, it hit me a little when I started feeding on her blood. She moaned a sexy moan, that so reminded me of Annabelle in orgasm, that I came a little bit myself. I felt her knees start to buckle and figured enough was enough.

"What's your name?" I asked as I eased her down to sit against the wall.

"Sapphire, why?" she asked, a little puzzled.

"I'm Giselle. Giselle Lyons. Come home with me." I said, kneeling beside her there.

"It ain't gonna be cheap, lady." She warned.

"Don't worry. I'm good for it." I replied.

I dredged out my cell and called my driver, and Sapphire's eyes shot wide when the Bentley pulled up. I opened the back door and fairly pulled the girl in behind me. By the time we'd gotten to my place in Manhattan, she'd gotten a bit of her composure back. But I steadied her waist as we made our way to the elevator to the penthouse. Maybe I'd just wanted to have my hands on her like that. I had the top floor, spacious even by New York standards, Sapphire looked around in wonder at the luxurious décor.

"This is all yours Lady, what the hell were you doing slummin' down on Roosevelt?" She wondered.

"Let's just say, I have my reasons. Like what what we did in that alleyway." I responded. "Hungry?"

"Starved. Most of my money...well you know..." she blushed slightly looking down.

"I know. Let's get you some food." I said, cupping her chin in my hand.

French bread with goat cheese spread, lobster bisque, a cobb salad, and mineral water disappeared in a heartbreakingly short period of time, slowing only after the third bowl of bisque and all the bread was gone.

She was looking less street weary as I led her to the bath. I turned on the water in the standup shower and got it nice and hot coming from all the showerheads. Indicating that she should strip, I started taking my own clothes off.

I took her in, before we entered the shower. "You were an athlete." I observed.

"Was, yes, before..." she left the rest of the sentence unfinished.

I started from the top. Shampoo, conditioner, then soaping her body along with my own. Angry needle tracks on one arm, but indicating she hadn't yet been injecting for years. I took a soapy hand and played with her pussy until she came for me, shivering, even though the water was steamy hot.

It hit me that she was just about the same size as Annabelle. Maybe that was part of what drew me to her. A certain familiarity. For some reason I'd kept all Annabelle's things just the way she left them. As if she might come back. A little gruesome, perhaps, and most of the clothes were hopelessly out of style, but we'd find something clean for Sapphire for now.

It was a burgundy silk Teddy with tiny pearls sewn into the lace neckline. The second Sapphire spotted it, her eyes lit up. Slipping it over her head, it was a little tight on her, being far more busty that Annabelle had been, but it looked as sexy as hell the way it hugged her curves.

"That's more like it." I said satisfied.

"Why you doing all this for me?" Sapphire asked.

"Let's just say I know what it's like to be out on the streets, just trying to survive." I answered.

"You're just about my age. How could you have gotten from the streets to here so fast?" She said skeptically. "You find some kind of super sugar daddy?"

"Hang around for a few days and you'll find out." I invited.

"You gonna pay?" she looked at me woefully.

"Don't worry about that." I responded and we left it at that. "Let's go to bed."

I shut the shower down and grabbed some fluffy towels from the towel warmer. She fairly purred as I dried her off. Her eyes glued to me as I then dried myself.

It felt good to have someone in bed with me again. I touched her and we made out lazily. I woke in the middle of the night to find that she'd gotten up. The little clutch bag she'd had wasn't with the rest of her clothes. I heard her in the bathroom. She was back in a little while, high. I just listened to her shallow breathing as she drifted back off to sleep.

"How'd you get hooked?" I asked over breakfast the next day.

"Boyfriend. Freshman year of college. Wanted to try it once. Got some and smoked it. Got more a couple days later. Before you knew it, it was an everyday thing. Boyfriend's family found out about it and sent him to rehab. I was screwed. I needed money so my dealer told me about this guy. Told me he'd take care of things as long as I worked the streets. So, I got turned out and here I am. A real piece of shit." Sapphire related.

"Ever try to get clean?" I asked.

"Three or four times. Yeah. Working the streets makes that pretty impossible." She admitted.

"Do you remember what I did to you in that alleyway?" I asked.

"I don't know. I was pretty high. I saw the green in your hand, remember you kissing my neck and shit. Even bit me, I guess. It's not real clear. I felt kinda out of it." She concluded. "I just know I gotta go back sooner or later, and Jack's gonna want his money, or I don't get taken care of."

We spent most of the day just getting to know each other. She was from a good middle class family. She'd been a state champion in hurdles in high school and was planning on continuing in college. I was a little more circumspect with her about my own past. One of the oddities about being over 500 years old and talking to a 20-year-old is that you have to be very conscious about being relatable.

As a result, some of the information gets massaged. I told her I'd been married very young, but he'd been a soldier called up, in the service and was killed in action. I told her I met a wonderful woman and had fallen in love, but that she'd died in an airline crash. I didn't mention that there was about five hundred years between the two losses.

"Wow, so I guess you've had your share of tragedy too." She commented.

"I guess. I mean I have a lot of stuff, but nobody to share it with." I admitted.

"So you want to share it with a 20 dollar whore junkie from the ass crack of New York?" she chuckled.

"Something like that." I admitted. "Something like that."

I took her hands in mine and looked her in the eyes. "Could you try something for me?" I asked.

"What?" she replied.

"Don't shoot up again until you're starting to feel dopesick. "I asked.

"Um...okay." She reluctantly agreed.

We had sex that night. Making out at first but then things heated up. Her body was reacting more normally than it had that first night, plus I was learning what turned her on the most. For a whore she was charmingly pedestrian when it came to sex. I hadn't realized that I was a bit more... jaded from being with Annabelle for so long. I'd have to work on that with her. Introduce things that she'd enjoy. Her tits were gorgeous, and cleaned up, her body was still remarkably jacked, now that she wasn't practically starving.

Two days later she commented that she didn't feel like she needed nearly as much. That night in bed I fed on her again. She moaned and came as I finished and withdrew my fangs. This time I could see in her eyes that she understood what was going on. And I smiled down lovingly at her as she brought her fingertips gently to the bite-mark on her neck and then to her clit. A minute later, her hand fluttering between her legs she spasmed again. My love.

The change begins slowly, indeed, will stall out if certain conditions are not conformed to at pretty specific times. But part of it presented as an increased vitality, and an increased resistance to things like pathogens, poisons and the like. Intoxicants while I would be aware of them, my body would not process them as a normal human's would. Sapphire was feeling this effect more strongly after the second feeding, and her need for her drug was decreasing with each passing day. Annabelle and I, as full-fledged vampires, we cruised through the Black Death with never a fear, as people died all around us.

"You're a vampire." She said to me the following morning as we made out in bed.

"I am." I responded.

"You drank my blood." She remarked.

"Yes, I did. You blood is delicious." I admitted.

"Are you making me into a vampire like you?" she asked, a bit shaky.

"I will, if and only if, you wish me to." I explained.

"If I don't?" She asked.

"In two more days you will be totally clean from your addiction if you aren't already. If we stop there, you'll continue to be clean, and your system will gradually return to normal. I get to feel like I did a nice thing for someone, and you get to live your life with a fresh start." I told her.

"But if I do? She asked.

"If you do, then three days from now I shall feed on you a third time. We will say the ancient spells, and burn the incense and you will become as I am. From then on, we will be bound to each other as lovers." Words that echoed in my ears from five centuries ago. When Annabelle had said them to me.

"Who was she?" Sapphire asked sensing the solemnity in my voice and bearing.

"The one that made me? Annabelle, Marquess of Lyons. My mistress, my partner, my love." I said softly.

"When?" she asked.

"1416. Annabelle died just as I told you in 1937." I replied.

"You're over 500 years old and you look 18!" She gasped.

"Yes." I said.

We made love every chance we got over the next few days. Sapphire had thrown her kit away with what little drugs she'd had left. She had come alive and was horny as hell, and I could tell the vitality of the change was evident, in the way that she fucked with an enthusiastic energy that sometime left me gasping for breath.

After dinner, that evening she came to me.

"I'm ready... If you still want me." She said.

"I love you, Sapphire." I replied, taking her hands and pulling her in to kiss me.

"I love you too, Giselle." She moaned into my mouth.

The pentacle was set in its own special room. The candles alight and burning at each vertex, the tick tock of the clock on the mantle marking the steady passage of time. The censer on the low table against the wall. Incense burning pungently as I guided her, naked into the center. Holding her in my arms my mouth at the ready, waiting for the chiming of the first stroke of midnight.

I felt her go limp in my arms as I lovingly drank her blood. Her body quivered in orgasm, her eyes fluttering as her consciousness waned. I eased her gently to the ground in the center of the pentacle, and began to invoke the spells in most ancient words completing the change.

I carried her to bed. Tomorrow would mark a new beginning.

"You've made me. I feel it." Sapphire said. "I feel so strong!"

"You and I are bound as lovers now." I agreed.

"We already were. You saved me." She gushed passionately as she grabbed me.

She kissed me with a surprising passion. Her pussy rubbing sloppy against my thigh as she got herself off. I played with her breasts as if for the first time. Until, kissing her way down my body her mouth, now a familiar talent between my legs, gave me the most wonderful orgasms I could recall since Annabelle's passing. Lonely no more, we embarked on a future together that just short weeks ago neither of us would have imagined possible.

It was a bleak winter back in New York City.

The plane set down on the runway in the Dominican Republic. Giselle recalled the last time she'd been to the estate, Annabelle and She, had come by square rigger. It was in the early 1800's. The house was a plantation classic with large airy rooms, ceiling fans moving a nearly constant breeze through the house. Sapphire nearly pranced with joy, bouncing around on the large, well-manicured lawns. Working out the kinks from the plane ride, and the drive in. It had produced good rents.

"How you feeling, baby?" Giselle said, grabbing Sapphire's waist and kissing her.

"Honestly, I'm a little peckish." Sapphire replied in between kisses.

"There's a town on the North coast. Puerta Plata. It has a rather renown red light district. We could drive out there tonight and drain a couple of hookers, and then make love to each other on the beach." Giselle suggested.