My Little Ventrue Pt. 05 Ch. 13

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~~Natasha~~

They followed her to the shower, again. She was worried they'd want more sex, and kind of excited they might too, but three orgasms for each boy was enough to keep them satisfied for at least a couple hours. Werewolves were unendingly horny, she realized far too late into this relationship. Art grabbed the soap, Matt grabbed the shampoo, and they got to work pampering her; also, cleaning up their mess, because both wolves had taken it upon themselves to coat her in their cum. Something about being covered in their seed was so dirty, and naughty, and primal, that it tickled something inside her, made her squeal and squirm and give her best doe eyes. And if she gave them those doe eyes right now, as they washed the cum from her skin, they'd probably fuck her again.

But, enough was enough. For now.

"You know Tash," Art said, on a knee in front of her, and one of her legs in his hands as he soaped it, "we don't know much about you."

"You d-don't?"

"Nope." Matt stood behind her, and started working his fingers in her hair with the shampoo. Oh, oh, heavenly. The shower was becoming a frequent place for conversation, considering how often they had to use it, post sex.

"Yeah." Arts hands worked the soap up and down her leg, massaging as much as washing. "Who were your parents? What sort of life did you live before becoming a vampire? That sort of stuff."

"Oh... um, well, Kindred don't usually talk about that kind of stuff, you know? It's like, um... that p-p-part of us died when we were embraced. We're on our second lives n-now, and we... we try and focus on that." Not always successfully.

They nodded, and hmmm'd a few times, in sync with each other.

"All Kindred do that?" Matt said.

"W-We do, as we age. It's important, b-because if we don't, those old memories can really... tie us down. We're n-not like you, alive. Kindred are undead things, and that means we can b-be a b-b-bit static. Old memories can be an anchor, in a b-bad way." Trying to explain it was difficult. How to get across that Kindred were literally dead things, pretending to be living things, and that it was easy for a dead thing to get trapped by the unchanging state of their minds, was more or less impossible. Torpor changed a Kindred's mind, not aging; they didn't age anymore.

"Still hard to believe that you're older than me. I mean, just look at this thing." Art set both hands around her vulva, and pulled her apart, earning a squeak from her. "This thing is so damn tiny! And you shave it smooth."

She pounded both her small fists on his huge shoulders, until the brute stopped opening her entrance like she was a bag of chips!

"You! You... you two should trim some of that hair off. It's n-normal, in a city like Dolareido, t-to trim off or shave off p-pubic hair."

The two wolves looked down at their naked bodies, and shrugged. "Sure," they said.

Well, that was easy.

"You don't... d-don't have to wax it, or anything."

"Good fucking god!" Matt jumped back, and hit his back against the wall of the shower. Big tub, big shower, but not enough for the man. "I didn't even consider that!"

Giggling, she turned around, and pat the big guy on his stomach. "Relax! I s-said you d-d-don't have to. Just shave, or trim." Matt was a typical mountain man, big and gruff, lots of body hair. It looked good on him, but she spent her first and second life in Dolareido. In such cities, fashion was always on the mind, and quick to adopt the newest fads. Maybe some day, it'd be with plenty of hair again, but for a good twenty years now, it was to go hairless.

Easy for her to do. She shaved her body down once, and simply didn't regrow it unless she wanted to. Laughing, she thought of Art and Matt shaving themselves down, only to regrow all their hair in a puff of comedic smoke.

With her back turned to Art, she should have predicted the man would take advantage. She squeaked, and tried to turn around, but he didn't let her, one hand gripping her hip while the other soaped up her butt. Ah well, it needed to be cleaned anyway.

"Prince tell you about the new Uratha in town?" Art said.

"Um, only a little. Eric, r-right?" Jessy and Tash had both seen him, talked to him, but before they knew he was a werewolf.

"Yeah." Matt set his hands on her head, and continued shampooing her hair, from the front this time. "We haven't see him yet. Avery's description is he's a black dude, average height, shaved head, clean shaven." His smile was so warm, and she returned it as she took a loofa, and started lathering his body too. Like washing steel.

Right. Nodding, she reached up, and washed the man's shoulders as best she could from so far below. "W-Works at Bloodlust."

"We should pay him a visit," Art said. "But, Clara said he's not too interested in us."

"He doesn't want to learn ab-bout... who he is?"

Matt shook his head, and turned her around to begin washing her back. "When you first change, you get some memories bestowed on you, from Luna."

A cough drew both their eyes down to Art. "Just because the transformation gives us memories, doesn't mean it came from the moon." Apparently, he didn't agree.

"Luna is more than the moon." Matt's grip on Tash's back got a little harder. Not uncomfortable, but awkward.

"Says you."

"Come on, Art. David spoke to the spirits. They said come here. Avery herself said the visions—"

"You ever had a vision, Matt?"

"No, but—"

"How many times we have to have this discussion? We have no proof, just someone's word."

"You sound like Noah. You don't trust Avery?"

"That's not what I said."

If Natasha could shrink her tiny body more than it already was naturally, she would. Art and Matt were joined-at-the-hip friends, and to hear them start arguing was very strange. Stranger, because they were all naked, and she was standing between them, getting washed.

She looked up over her shoulder at Matt. He wasn't the same as Art. Art was a skeptic, and Matt was not. Tash was a skeptic, but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the power of someone's commitment to someone else.

And then there was Matt's past. He lost his family. Part of her wanted to ask for more details about that, but then she avoided the issue when they asked about her previous life; quite the little hypocrite she was. She could talk about her parents, if she could dig up the memories, if she could find the strength to wade through that shithole.

"Let's... g-go see Eric," she said. Redirecting their energy toward something more productive should hopefully be a good idea. Look at her, being a mom.

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Eric did not want to be seen, not by Matt and Art anyway. One glance their way and the young Uratha scowled. He was a good scowler; maybe he practiced it, for his old fighting job. It was enough to give Tash pause, for sure. Matt and Art nudged her forward, and she gulped as she came in closer to the man. He was up on the second floor by the stairs, one elbow on the railing, and looking down at the small crowd below. So much more intimidating than that time she'd caught Jessy fucking him in a booth; his first change must have changed him in ways she could never fathom.

She managed a small smile at him. He looked great in a suit, but reeked of the sort of man who hated suits. A shame, Antoinette would say.

"Hello Eric," she said. "This is Art-turo, and Matthew."

"I suppose you're with Avery." Venom dripped form his words. Something must have pissed him off, and it had to be related to Avery. Weird, considering Avery should be helping the man. But Art and Matt said he wasn't interested; still, she was hoping that was exaggeration. Apparently not.

Art raised a hand in a small wave. "Ni-zu tag," he said. Tash raised a brow. Whatever he said, it was enough to make Eric snort, and set his gaze back to the crowd underneath them. "Knew you'd be an asshole."

Natasha facepalmed. Ok, if Avery acted like that with Eric on their first meet, she couldn't blame the bouncer for being annoyed.

But Art's words managed to pull a small smile from Eric, before he turned to face them full on, one elbow on the railing.

"Seems to be a common attribute among our kind."

Matt, behind Art, pat his friend on the shoulders, both hands. "I take offense to that. Not all of us are like Noah or Avery, or this asshole right here."

Art elbowed Matt in the gut, hard enough to earn a grunt and backstep from him, before Art stepped around Eric and came to the railing as well. "Avery says she gets the impression you want to be a ghost wolf."

"Ghost wolf?"

"Yeah." Matt came in as well, but he made sure to put Tash between him and Eric, by the railing. Nice of him, to include her; or he was trying to keep some distance from the mean man. "Means you don't bother with the joining a pack and being a part of the great hunt."

"Not actively, at least," Art said.

"Then, yeah, I guess that describes me pretty well." Eric shrugged, and glanced up at both Art and Matt. Much as Tash could tell Eric was a strong, deadly fellow, Art was a tall guy, and Matt was a giant. He looked small, in comparison. "Got no interest in your pack, or whatever."

Smirking, Art looked down at the crowd. "You don't want a piece of the pack, I get that. But Siskur-Dah is in your blood now. It'll come to you, or you'll go to it. Unavoidable."

"Says you."

"It's true," Matt said. "You act like Avery came to you trying to recruit you, military style. Not true... mostly. She's throwing you a life jacket, because like it or not, this shit's going to show up on your doorstep from now on."

"I can swim fine on my own."

This Eric man was obstinate. Tash smiled, and tried to hide it by looking down at the dancing crowd. No wonder Jessy liked him. The girl didn't normally deal with tough assholes on such terms, and Eric must have been a breath of fresh air for her. Or rather, a unique taste of blood. And the blood was most definitely a plus.

She licked her lips, and glanced up at Matt beside her. To sink her teeth into the massive meat of his neck, and let the ambrosia flow into her mouth, was scary addictive. Tasted so damn good. And Jessy seemed to be a bit attached to this man, so, the blood might have had something to do with that. Or it was his asshole behavior. Both, definitely both.

"They're only trying t... t-to help," she said.

"No one helps for no reason. And Avery already extended the offer to join her pack; though I could tell she meant as a rock under her foot."

She raised a brow. "A rock?"

"Yeah. She didn't actually want me in the pack, just under her thumb."

"Can you blame her?" Shrugging, Art turned to face the man. "We don't know you."

"But," Matt said, "we'd like to. You're Uratha now, and that warrants learning who you are."

"... just a guy who wants to be left alone."

Art laughed again. "Well, ghost wolf, you may want to be left alone, but you're in the shit now. You'll see them everywhere; maybe not like David, but you'll see them. You'll smell them, notice them, and when push comes to shove, you'll feel the drive to hunt them down and fix the shit they fuck up."

Matt nodded. "Father Wolf's duty."

"I have no interest in any ancient being's duty."

In any other circumstance, Tash would have watched and said nothing, let the people talk, argue their own stuff, stuff she had no business getting her nose into. She knew nothing about spirits, or Father Wolf, after all. But, things were different now, now that she was a member of the Ordo Dracul; not a real member, not yet, but serving one nonetheless. This sort of stuff was becoming her business, like it or not.

"What w-will you do then?" she said. "M-Matt and Art are sure that things will... w-will happen, whether you want them to or not. And—"

"And they can all fuck right the hell off." Eric put his hands into his pockets, and headed toward the stairs. A glance up at Matt was enough to make the giant move out of the way, so the man could continue on his way. No look back, no glance, no invitation to follow him, nothing. One moment there, next moment gone.

He was a mean guy.

"... I... guess that was a b-bad idea."

Matt shrugged. "Nah, that was fine. Some new wolves just take time to acclimate, and from what Avery tells me, this dude had a rough first change. Not the roughest, but rough none the less. I imagine it was rough for you, becoming a vamp, right?"

"It... it was."

Art headed over to an open booth, and the three of them sat down, her in the center. It was nice, with them around her, hiding her and protecting her from the annoying world of Bloodlust. Had a safe feeling.

A safe feeling. Been a long time since she had a feeling like that, to feel safe with other people, especially boys. It was strange, and, welcome.

She frowned, leaned forward toward the booth table, and set her hands on it as fists. "I t-told you that... that Kindred don't like t-talk about their past much, from when they were still alive."

"Yeah," Art said, "but I mean, you can leave it like that. You don't have to say anything."

Sighing, she shook her head. "It's ok. I learned ab-b-bout you, Art." The man had had a rough childhood, growing up alone in Tijuana. "And Matt, Jacob... that m-must have been horrible." And the gentle giant lived in perpetual sadness over the death of his family, that he did not get to witness. She knew things about them, and now, maybe she felt safe enough to return the favor.

"D-D... Daniel," she said, "he turned me. Embraced me. It was a... w-weird... moment. I was offered a cursed immortality, and he warned me... w-warned me that it'd be hard, and horrible, and that I'd have to leave m-my parents behind. I was young." And she would forever look young because of it. "B-But, I didn't realize... how bad it would be, leaving them. Or how bad it would be... w-when parents think... their child has died." Her fists melted into flat hands, before she sank back into the booth, and hugged herself. "Mom got sick. It w-wasn't long before she... d-died. And D-Dad, he... he killed himself, not long after."

Both wolves stared at her, then each other, then her again, before they too sank into the booth.

"Heavy shit," Art said.

"Yeah." Nodding, Matt reached out, and slid an arm around her shoulders. She didn't fight him. Normally, she'd very much want to be alone, thinking these sorts of thoughts, but she'd opened this door, this gate, and Art and Matt were looking on through it. They were stepping through it.

Art set his hand on her thigh, and gave it a light pat. "How are your memories? Not sure if that's offensive to ask; I know Kindred and their memories can be shaky."

"I haven't t-taken a long torpor." Not that the nightly torpor of vampire sleep wasn't enough to twist memories with scary dreams, but a proper torpor, to let the blood lust settle, was not something she expected to deal with for many decades yet. Thankfully. "I can... I was there for... my mom's funeral. And then later, my d-dad's..."

Both men winced. Yeah, no more words needed on that. And judging from the reaction, they had gone through similar. Matt must have had to go through a funeral for his family, and judging from what he said before, she wouldn't be surprised if there'd been no body to bury. And Art, she was afraid to ask for details on his situation; troubled childhood and forced to live alone could mean anything.

Maybe she'd ask for more, later, but—

"Wow, who died?" Jessy came up over the stairs, and walked over to them, head tilted to the side. The three of them glared at her. She threw up her hands, palms forward. "Whoa, sorry for asking."

Tash shook her head, and let her eyes relax. Not Jessy's fault, and her brutal personality was a nice change of pace from Tash's inner monologue. And while she was a very forward woman, she didn't have any of Eric's bitterness. Maybe it'd be good if she rubbed off on him.

"It's ok," she said. "Um, just..."

"Heavy stuff," Art said.

"Uh huh?" Shrugging, Jessy slid into the booth, and got cozy up beside Matthew. "You really are gigantic, you know that? Tash, you have to let me have a taste."

"W-What? No! You have Eric, g-g-go find him. He was here moments ago."

"Was he? Shit, I missed him. He was supposed to be working, but... but you fuckers drove him off, didn't you?" And, like she'd known Matt for decades, she punched him in the arm.

He returned it, and grinned. Buddy punches were a language he could understand.

"We didn't drive him off," Art said. "I mean... I suppose we did. We're just trying to help him out, make a choice, get him into the fold before he gets buried in shit. He's Uratha now, and he's not going to be able to ignore all instincts, the signs, the everything."

Jessy shrugged. "He's his own man, let him do what he wants."

Art raised a brow. "Let him do what he wants? Don't you have him under your thumb? Paying his salary, putting a roof over his head, and let's not forget, threatening to kill him if he breaks your Masquerade?"

Uh oh.

The Gangrel didn't like that. She leaned forward, one elbow on the table, and sneered at Art. "Our Masquerade, asshole. Don't think just because we do a better job keeping the Masquerade safe, that it doesn't also protect you. And besides, we were going to keep things the way they were with Eric because it's a mutually beneficial relationship."

"As long as he doesn't go into a Death Rage at an inconvenient time." Sighing, Art shook his head some more, and waved his hand through the air. Dismissing. Jessy would not like that, either.

"We can handle it," she said, growling.

Tash gulped, and reached out toward Jessy to tap her hand. "Um, they're... they're v-very... d-d-dangerous when... when they do that." Not that they were beyond recovery. She'd managed to break through to Art and Matt, but it was a close call.

Jessy shrugged, and mirrored Art's dismissing wave. "You telling me your two boys here never go wolfy on you, maybe during a good fuck?"

"J-Jessy! I'm not... n-not into bestiality!"

"Of fucking course not. I don't mean fucking when they're wolves, but when they're in their big transformed mode, you know?" Jessy leaned back in her seat, and let her eyes drift upward as a goofy smile sneaked onto her lips. "I want to see you fuckers in that form. Must be wicked awesome."

Matt and Art raised a brow at each other, looked down at Tash, then Jessy, then around again, before Matt finally spoke up. "The Gauru form is dangerous, Jessy. Very. If we don't struggle to keep control, it can lead into a Death Rage."

"Yeah," Art said. "It's a fine wire to walk."

"But can you fuck in that state?" The stupid Gangrel woman shivered, and winked at Tash. "You guys get like, nine-feet tall, right? Human wolf hybrid monster things? Towering behemoths of muscle and raw power? Sexy as all fuck?"

Matt choked on a cough, while Art continued to raise a brow. There was no talking sense into Jessy. Tash knew that, and now so did her boyfriends.

"That doesn't mean we couldn't use Dalu," Art said at least, and he grinned Tash's way. "Bigger, stronger body, more muscle, but not werewolf mode."

Werewolf mode? Ugh, these boys were regressing down to Jessy's way of talking. Tash would not allow that!

"If y-you want t-t-to experiment, go find Eric, and ask him! I d-don't... do... that." She glanced Matt and Art's way, and shrank into her booth a little. Now the image was in all their heads. Dalu mode, she hadn't seen, but it sounded like a bigger, stronger person. Gauru mode, she'd seen too many times, and the idea of having sex with one of those titans of steel was scary.

Scary, and thrilling. Tash was the one who'd told Jessy she thought their Gauru form was a towering behemoth of muscle and raw power, and maybe she said it with a little more smiling and shivering than she meant to. Jessy interpreted that as her thinking they were sexy, evidently. And, well, they were kind of sexy, in a 'oh god it's going to eat me' sort of way. Was that sexy? Maybe it was, a little. The idea of those enormous beasts pinning her down, tearing her clothes off, and... and... doing things to her? Would they even be able to fit inside her?