My Little Ventrue Pt. 03 Ch. 07

She scooped it up immediately. Jack blinked at her, and she winked at him. One of the many treats she might share tonight.

"The issue with many of these," she said as they walked past the bikinis, "is finding a size that fits the bust. Breasts come in such different shapes and sizes, with different angles and curves, upon different sizes of chest. And many women have one breast larger than the other. You would need hundreds of tops to cover all the possible combinations of human variation."

"I do thank god I was born a man," Jack said, grinning. "Shopping for bras alone sounds like hell."

"It is." Her little love earned another chuckle from her, and she guided him down the isles with renewed enthusiasm. "But do not let that affect your judgment with me, my Jack." Jack was perhaps a bit of a feminist; she had heard him comment on plights unique to women before. Most of such concerns were a thing of the past for her, for Kindred, but his concern pleased her nonetheless.

She stopped before the smaller bikinis, and gestured toward a black one with a triangle top and a micro rise, cheeky bottom. Truly a classic, simple and elegant, powerful and commanding, sexual and beautiful. She grabbed two of different sizes, and set them upon Jack's shoulder, her new shopping assistant.

"Two?" he said.

"And we will be lucky if one of them fits." She pat her silly little man on the head, and moved on. "Please, feel free to suggest. Perhaps a certain color is to your liking? Or type?" A gesture to the others, many far more conservative, many far less.

Jack, regressed to a child in a sweets bakery, looked the various swimsuits up and down. Nearby women glanced between him and Antoinette, and she offered them a wink. Yes, he was her lover, and she enjoyed pampering him with sexual delights.

Jack stopped in front of some one pieces, open back with various patterns of straps. Some were tight, formfitting, some were loose and meant to display cleavage, and some had open lace-up sides from hip to rib. Her lover's eyes were stuck on a particular piece, a one piece athlete swimsuit with skinny straps, fully exposed legs to the hip, and a single cross along the back. Color was a spattering of white paint along black canvas. Very cute. She set several of those upon her love's shoulder as well.

Perhaps she would have to nudge Jack in the intended direction? He may have thought she intended to swim with the clothes; she did own a pool after all, deep in her tower. So, she smirked at her love, took his shoulder, and turned him toward the more salacious selection.

"Which," she whispered to his ear once she had leaned down over his shoulder, "would you enjoy seeing me in?"

"I... um..."

"Or, which would you prefer I wear, while you rest your cock inside me?"

That got him shivering. She had said it louder as well, loud enough for the nearby women to hear, to glance, for some to stare openly. They blushed, squirmed a little, and tried to speed up their shopping.

"Um... how about... these?" He stopped in front of the extreme micro bikinis, and gestured to one of white. To call it a swimsuit was silly, as it was nothing more than string with a tiny triangle to cover the sex, and two tiny triangles to cover the nipples. Barely.

She grabbed several sizes, and set them upon Jack.

The two of them wandered the store, grabbing various garments, and she taunted observers with the occasional wink, or yet another explicit description of what she was going to do to her man. They were kine, young things compared to her, concerned only with social etiquette and niceties. She was behaving like a child, taunting them so, but Jack made her feel like a young woman once again. And she deserved to indulge such a forgotten feeling.

Once she had sufficiently buried the boy in dozens of swimsuits, she walked to one of the fitting rooms. De Rourie's Palace had private fitting rooms, full rooms with walls and a proper door, perfect to test clothes for your partner.

"Um, ma'am? Changing rooms are not to be shared."

One of the women who had been watching her and Jack had finally worked up the courage to speak. An employee, and an unhappy one.

Antoinette raised a brow, looked at the fitting room, and then at the nearby women who were standing within earshot. Jack looked a little uncomfortable, half for the women comparing him to his love, and half for carrying around a mountain of clothes stacked on his arms and shoulders.

She was tempted to argue, to make a point about how the fitting rooms of De Rourie's Palace are full rooms with thick walls, not tiny stalls. But it would be a pointless argument, and not worth angering herself over. Instead, she opted for the simpler option.

"But, do you not wish to make me happy?" she said.

"I... uh... excuse me?"

"Do you not wish, to make me happy?"

Deep in her core, down in the depths of her Kindred body, she summoned her majesty. A drop of vitae, just a small one would be sufficient to enchant these women, to paint herself a goddess in their eyes for a few hours.The awe flowed from her, invisible but thick in the air, and she guided it to each woman with a glance and smile.

"... I... yes, yeah! Yeah, anything. What do you need?" The employee, a tall and thin woman with short blond hair, smiled her brightest smile and stepped in a bit closer.

"Anything from us?"

"How about us?"

"We could model for you!"

"Yeah!"

Within a minute, half a dozen women — the whole of the customers in the store — were upon Jack and Antoinette, smiling, beaming, grinning. Attractive women of varying ages, several of them Jack's age. Enthralled to her by her spell, their desires replaced with an overwhelming urge to please her, to earn her attention. In awe of her. Fake admiration, created by a vampire's power, to break their minds and turn them into adoring fans. Temporary, but useful.

"Jack, my love, would you enjoy having these women model swimsuits for you?"

"Wha?" He blinked up at her, then looked at the six women who had suddenly become adamant to please him, and by proxy, her. "No! No, I want to hang out with you, without an audience."

The collective unhappy sigh from the women was too cute.

"Please," Antoinette said to the small crowd, "it will make me happy if you continue your shopping. It would make me especially happy if you leave my love and I in peace while I try on some clothes for him."

The women nodded, sighed a few more times, and stared with longing at the Prince as she opened the door to the fitting room, and ushered her love inside. Once within, she guided Jack to sit upon one of the armless chairs, and she took the clothes from him to set them upon a bench.

"You had all those women ready to jump into bed with us, just like that," he said as he snapped his fingers. "That is... that is really impressive."

"Daeva can turn many into adoring fans. With practice and time, we learn to turn kine into confidants with but a glance. Come my age, a single word can turn a host of kine into loyal bodyguards, willing to sacrifice themselves to spare me harm."

"Damn impressive." He raised his hands and stretched out a bit before he wriggled in his chair. Excited, her little Ventrue. "Now that I think about it, you're absolutely rich, but for things like shopping, you don't need to spend a dime to you?"

"No. But it would attract attention if a store's inventory of clothes were to disappear." Chuckling again, she set her purse down, slid off her jacket, and set both upon the bench. "A Ventrue as powerful as yourself, my young Jack, would have no trouble amassing his own small fortune through the use of dominate."

"I guess, yeah. I just... dunno, never really craved being rich."

"You crave music with complexity and emotion. You crave dialogue with depth. You crave a connection, intimacy." She started to unbutton her shirt, and watched herself in the mirror. "It is no small part of why I enjoy our time together."

"I... yeah. You really do have a way with words."

She did at that.

Piece by piece, she stripped in front of Jack. The shirt, the skirt, the shoes, all joined her suit jacket on the bench. Left in nothing but her underwear and bra. She had originally meant to wear her current lingerie to bed with Jack tonight, so it was a rather sexual set, black lace with see-through curves along its face.

Jack stared, jaw dropping. "... damn."

"Blush for me, my love," she said. The two of them began the blush of life, and each of them took a breath of air to taste the sensations. "And please, take off your clothes, all of them." Her turn to watch.

Jack stood up with a bounce, and threw off his clothes. He tripped on a sock, groaned and fumbled, but soon the boy was naked and seated once more. More excited than usual, staring at her with wide eyes, and his shaft already hard. Not worried at all about the future, not worried about how they would soon come into a strange opposition, how he would have to stand before her and the Primogen, and be placed at the center of an old wound between Kindred and Uratha.

All he cared about was her. Such was the way of men she supposed, to focus on the moment more than a woman could. A blessing and a curse. But, it was also because Jack was hers, and no matter what would happen, they were in love. She had felt similar with Tony before though; if only she had Jack's confidence.

She shook her head of such illogical thoughts. Jack was not Tony, in any measurable sense, and all the better for it. So, taking another breath, she walked over to her little Ventrue, leaned forward, reached behind her, and undid the clasp of her bra. Instead of catching it, she shook her shoulders a few times, and let it fall from her breasts, down her arms, and onto Jack's rigid member. Her breasts dangled in front of his face, heavy, became teardrops with their weight, and they trembled with the act of shaking off her bra. All a dance for her love. She did love to spoil him.

"God... damn..."

"We still have many clothes to try on," she said as she stood up straight.

"Then, um, you should probably stop teasing me so much. I'm only human."

She laughed. "Are you? Then I have brought the wrong man into my fitting room." She slid her fingers into the waistband of her panties, and slowly slid them off, making a grand show of it, emphasizing the curve of her spine, her ass, her legs as she edged them off. Once at her ankles, she stepped out of them, and reached down to pluck her bra off of Jack's lap before tossing them onto her discarded suit.

What to try first, what to try first. Perhaps trying them in order of sexual allure? But then, there was a special allure to clothes that created the image of nudity while covering much of the skin, such as the one piece Jack had selected. Yes, that would do well for the first, to build the moment.

She kept her back to Jack as she slid the swimsuit up legs, hooked it over her ass and hips, up over her breasts, and slipped the straps over her shoulders. Ah, tight, as she expected. To find formfitting swimwear that fit her bust comfortably would be a trial, but showing off each piece for her love was a fun she had not experienced in centuries. To dress with her ghouls was a delight, but it was not the same as seeing the look of raw desire in her love's eyes as she turned to face him, and combed her hair back over her shoulders with her fingers.

"Fffuu... um... looks a bit tight... around the chest."

"It is." She sighed and slid it off, still facing Jack. He groaned, loudly, as her breasts came free of the restricting black and white fabric, and his shaft twitched upward before settling.

She tried on the other size, but where her bust was less crushed, the waist fell out and did not hug her stomach. Jack didn't seem to mind, and his eyes drooled, looking up her and down as she again slipped out of the swimsuit. She tried on other swimsuits, all the one pieces. Many had plunging cleavage, many had open sides with lace, and many exposed the back all the way to the base of the tail bone. Each, she took her time displaying for her love, including some silly poses that earned a chuckle from them both.

One swimsuit in particular, she was eager to find the boy's reaction. She grabbed the pile of string, unfurled it, and laughed. A micro monokini, it was called, which was nothing more than a bikini whose top piece connected to the waistband of the bottom piece, rather than behind the back with itself. But due to the angle of the strings, it emphasized both the length of the legs and the curve of the spine. So, she turned her profile to Jack, and smiled at him as she slid the few strings up her legs, and then once again hooked them over her shoulders. She faced him directly as she slid the straps over her breasts, and then again, posed for her love.

"Not sure... I'm going to survive this, Antoinette," he said. His hands were gripping the sides of the chair underneath his legs, and squeezing. An attempt to keep them there and not touch himself, no doubt.

"Whatever do you mean, my love?"

"You... you look... really, really, really really, really good in all of these. Going to explode."

"Then perhaps you should masturbate? There are several more to try, and many I will have to try other sizes." She winked, and blew him a small kiss. "And if you become drained, there is a host of women outside waiting to be Kissed." She walked toward her man, leaned forward, and set her hands upon his shoulders. In such a position, the weight of her breasts filled out the front straps of her monokini, but her breasts were too large for it, and they distended out over the sides of the straps. She knew they would, just as she knew Jack would be helpless to look away.

The look in his eyes. Melting, wax dripping down the candle. Steam on his skin. Fire in his green, open eyes that spread its warmth to her soul. He was her spark. It struck a chord inside her, regressed her to a young woman eager to bathe in the mesmerized gaze of her lover. Eager to please him, to be pleased by him, eager to feel his touch, and just as eager to hold him in her embrace as the sun rose.

She reached down, took one of his hands, and set it upon his shaft.

"Masturbate," she said, "to your heart's content. Do not worry, you will be satisfying me later." A kiss for his nose, another for his lips, and she stood up once more. "Tell me when you are about to cum."

"O... ok."

With a firm nod, she turned around, but managed only a foot before she stopped, and looked over her shoulder. Jack was staring at her as always, but the monokini forced his eyes to settle on her ass. She had always known her little Ventrue was a breast lover, but perhaps that was too simple a classification; his eyes lingered on her derriere as much as any part of her. And to know he was staring at how the tiny strings of the swimsuit highlighted the length of her legs and height of her thighs made her old, dead heart race. Already she felt the warmth between her legs grow, eager to be filled.

"It surprises me you do not ask me to dance for you, little Ventrue, with how much you enjoy looking at me." She grinned at him, and stuck her hip out to accent the curve of where her shapely ass met her hamstrings.

"C-Could... you dance for me?"

Oh my. In the past, he would have squirmed, and tried to explain how he could not, or would not be so bold. But now with only a little nudge, he asked. Such boldness was to be rewarded.

She brought her hip in, and slowly turned herself around as the rotation of her hip went in an exaggerated angle. A sway of the hip, and a sway of the shoulder, to make her body flow like a dangling ribbon. Subtle, but sensual.

Poor Jack leaned back in his chair, and melted all the more. He openly masturbated, squeezing and stroking himself as he stared at her. Little groans escaped him, each more adorable and intoxicating than the last. They grew as she raised her arms over her head, and combed back her hair while jutting out her chest. And then, as she slowly turned full circles, she brought her hands down to her shoulders, down the straps of the swimsuit that covered her breasts, and down to where the straps hooked into the hips of the swimsuit bottom.

She sneaked her fingers under the tiny strings that were the waistband of the swimsuit bottom, and slid them back and forth, highlighting how they hugged her wide hips, and disappeared into the crevice of her ass as she turned. Each rotation, she noticed where her love stared, where his eyes fell, and she guided them up and down her body.

She was going to tease her man until he burst.

"I... didn't know... you could move like that."

"Oh? I have done this dance for you during sex."

"Never that... um... while standing."

"You mean never while I get to move about." She stepped closer to him, and turned around several times with the slow sway of her body never stopping. Like a snake from head to toe, she caused her spine, her hips, her stomach, and her legs to all flow in waves. "There was a time, little Ventrue, when I would dance for a dozen kine. Incense filled the room, the floor was covered in exotic, soft rugs, and men and women as naked as you stared upon me as I moved by body." Her hands found her shoulders again, and she slid them down her body with the rolling sway of her dance. Her fingers took the front straps that covered her nipples, and pulled them aside, so they rested outside her breasts.

"It's... hard to imagine. Like watching a queen dance for her subjects." The boy was sinking into his chair with every stroke of his cock.

"You are not my subject, little Ventrue. You are my love." She leaned forward over him, set her hands on his shoulders, and dipped her ass left and right as she lightly caressed the boy's arms. When she looked down, she smiled and licked her lips as drops of precum coated the boy's glans. "But, I admit, I do enjoy that you will sit and listen, while I guide many of our bouts." A hand slid down his arm to his chiseled little stomach, down his pubic area — still smooth as per her preference — and onto his cock. When he tried to move his hand away to give her room, she guided his fingers back around his shaft. She only wanted to touch him for a moment, to feel the wet warmth of his precum on the tip of her finger, before she stood back up and walked over to the pile of clothes. She was such a tease, and no doubt Jack was getting close to orgasm, while doing his best to not cum, edging himself as he watched her.

The sight of him near orgasm had her wet.

She grabbed the black bikini this time, and tried on the bottom piece first. It fit well, hugging her ass and emphasizing the shape of her thighs and hips, without constricting the skin in odd angles.

As she reached down for the top, her love's groan grabbed her. Jack was staring at her as if she had exploded. His eyes were wide, his jaw dropped to excessiveness, and his hand increased in speed, masturbating fast enough to make quiet noises of flesh on flesh.

"Oh? Is this a particular interest of yours? A kink, or fetish?" She turned around again, and tilted out one hip while placing a hand on it; a fashion runaway pose. Wearing only a bikini bottom meant her breasts were free to hang and flatten slightly against her ribs, but Jack's arousal skyrocketed every second she stood there for him. "Being topless, with such a simple bottom?"

"It's... uh... I don't know, just... it just..."

Well, what a delightful little discovery. She came closer to him, and closer, drawing out every step in a slow, exaggerated sway. When only a foot separated them, she resumed her dance, but in a slower form. Hands over her head, she swayed to the unheard music, like a silk sheet in a gentle breeze, and brought herself to stand between Jack's spread knees.