The Braidwood Affair

byeidetic©

"Find out if we can eat him," Marianne asked, then amended it. "No, wait! Find out if we can fuck him, then eat him."

Victoria waved a slightly dismissive hand towards her friend, the she-Were.

"Stewart Morgan Chamblee, I think that Marianne is right," she addressed him softly. "You stink. Take off your pants." Stewart moved to comply with no idea what he was doing. Just that it was somehow very important he do exactly what this gorgeous woman was telling him to do.

"Fine," Marianne grumbled and got up from the table. "I'll go get some washcloths." As she walked into the hall towards the kitchen, Stewart was marginally aware of an almost 6-foot, fully furry bipedal wolf with human hands, six big tits, glowing yellow eyes and a tail that swished behind her as she walked.

His immediate focus, though, was this sexy-as-hell woman before him. He kicked off his sneakers and dropped his pants, stepping out of them.

"Now your briefs," Victoria directed softly. They came off in short order.

"In fact, how about the rest of your clothes?" Victoria asked and Stewart didn't hesitate. Off came the down vest, the flannel shirt and the socks. He stood there naked while Victoria ran her eyes over his body. Then she reached out and took his throbbing erection in her hand.

"This is rather nice for a... um... Stewart? How old are you?" she asked.

"Eighteen, ma'am," he answered evenly, apparently undisturbed by her handling of him.

"For an eighteen-year-old," Victoria went on. She began long, languorous stroking of his cock. "Are you a virgin?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, still dreamlike. "Technically."

"What do you mean 'technically', Stewart?" she asked as she continued to stroke him.

"Well, a couple of dryads had their way with me when I was fourteen, but I don't think that counts," he told her. "Everyone told me it was all just in my imagination anyway."

Victoria nodded. Those oversexed wood nymphs didn't care whose lives they messed up, even children. Especially children, not yet jaded and cynical, not yet living in the "real world."

Marianne returned with the warm, wet washcloths. "You know," she observed as she watched Victoria controlling Stewart's emotions, "when he comes out of that trance, we're going to have to clean the parlor all over again. Regardless of whether or not you get him off."

Victoria sighed. "I'm aware of that," she told her friend. "I just wish Julianna had made it. This young man is overflowing with libido and he's a virgin, for all practical purposes. He'd make a fine feast for the three of us. Unfortunately, we would drain him and he'd never see the light of day."

"He's a virgin?" Marianne's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I thought I smelled something funny."

"Wash him up, please?" Victoria asked and got out of the way as Marianne went about bathing Stewart, first where he had soiled himself and then the rest, on general principles. He simply stood there and let her. When she had finished, she stepped back and Victoria moved back in front of him.

"I'm going to leave him tranced for a bit," she told the she-Were. "We... all three of us... need to talk."

Marianne nodded and returned to the card table while Victoria suggested that Stewart sit on the settee, relax and get comfortable for awhile. Then she and Margeaux joined Marianne at the table.

* * * * *

"So our choices are," Victoria was summing up their discussion, "we can consume him and each of us get what we need... his libido, his energy, his flesh and blood... then dispose of the body and let him become a missing person. Or we can wipe his mind and dump him over in the cemetery for the local constabulary to find..."

"Or we wipe his mind, dump him in the cemetery and leave him with that portrait of Charles he was going to nick," Marianne interrupted. "I never did like that one, anyway." Victoria held up her finger.

"Or, if we can get hold of Julianna, we see if we can convince him to become a donor, until we have to dispose of him due to old age. I really wish..."

"HEY! HELLO!!! ANYBODY STILL HERE?" a very loud feminine voice called from the front hallway.

"In here!" Victoria called back, visibly brightening. "Finally!..." she smiled to her friends.

Moments later, a biker chick in black leather and looking like Rhiannon-From-Hell blew into the room, her mane of bright red hair flowing out behind her, framing her alabaster skin and emerald eyes.

"Sorry I'm late!" she breezed, moving towards the women. "I got caught behind a... what the fuck???"

She'd caught sight of Stewart, sitting docilely on the settee.

"A trespasser," Victoria told her. "Possibly dinner. Possibly more. Come join us, please!"

"Sure..." the newcomer drawled as she moved slowly to the table, studying the naked guy on the couch as she went. "Kinda young," was her observation as she sat down.

"Very," Victoria nodded. "Eighteen. And gifted. Not trained. Wants to get into that writers' group."

"They sent someone to rip us off again?!?!" Flaming red hair chick was not happy.

"Easy, Julianna," Victoria told her. "This one has potential. But only if you're on board."

"Because you want me to keep fixing him," she stated as she looked at the card table. "Where's the food?"

"Get what you want from the kitchen, then come on back and help us decide what we're going to do with Stewart Morgan Chamblee."

"That's his name?" she asked as she headed for the kitchen, getting confirming nods from the others.

* * * * *

"Okay, so he's loaded with libido... I can read that." Julianna was kneeling in front of Stewart in her bikini, or what might as well have been. She'd peeled off her leathers, leaving her in a skimpy halter top and tight leather boy shorts that zipped up both sides. "And he's sensitive to the alternate worlds... they've left their mark on him. Especially a couple of nymphs. He's got brains and not bad in the body department. Actually, pretty cute. Probably a poster child for the Boy Scouts."

"So," she went on, turning to face her friends, "what do you want me to do?"

"Come back here every full moon," Victoria told her. "Feast with us. At the end, put him back like he was before we started. If you do that, I can make a deal with him he'll never want to refuse."

"Every full moon, huh?" Julianna ran her fingers through her mane as she thought about it. "He does seem rather tasty..."

"That's my girl!" Victoria exclaimed. "Take a good read on him now, and after I release him from the trance. We're going to want him functional after tonight. Let us know when you're done."

Julianna nodded and concentrated on Stewart's life essence, memorizing the patterns and energy levels, gathering that information she would need to restore his timeline and heal the damage.

* * * * *

Stewart became painfully aware that his penis was stretched to epic proportions and that he was sitting on a couch instead of lying on the floor. He also became aware that he had no clothes on. Lastly, he became aware that four very scary women were standing over him, leering.

He remembered three of them: the ones he'd classified as a ghost and a werewolf and probably a vampire. The awesome chick in the flaming red hair and black leather nothing was new. Probably the witch. And he was still breathing.

The panic gradually rose as he realized he was looking at four knife-and-fork expressions. As in, he was the roast and they were getting ready to...

That was the point where abject fear took over and he began shaking violently while pissing himself. And the couch. And the floor.

"I told you..." Marianne muttered.

"Not a problem," Julianna told her, then gestured and muttered something and suddenly, Stewart was dry. Still shaking, but dry.

"You're going to need to calm down, Stewart," Victoria told him softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We want to talk to you, not harm you."

Something in her physical contact did calm him down, or at least reduced the shaking quite a bit. She waited until his eyes weren't quite so buggy and his pulse and respiration were within normal -- for an excited young man.

"You want to be a writer, correct?" she asked. He managed to nod.

"And you have a ton of stories you'd like to write, about creatures like us?" He nodded again.

"Then maybe we can make a deal," she smiled, and unfortunately her canines were a bit overextended and had a counterproductive effect on Stewart.

"Aieee!" he squealed and curled up into a ball on the couch, throwing his hands to his neck.

"Nuts!" Victoria muttered and turned her face away.

"Hey! Dude! Chill..." Julianna reached out and grabbed his cock in one hand and his balls in the other.

Stewart squealed again, threw his hands from his neck to his groin to try and protect himself, and got stopped by Julianna's hands already there. He tried to scramble backwards, but he wasn't going far while she had hold of his favorite body parts.

Like the old saying says, "when you've got 'em by the short hairs, their hearts and minds will follow."

"Guess you don't understand the word 'chill'," she told him, then leaned forward and put his straining hard-on in her mouth. That changed a number of things.

For one, he held absolutely still. This flaming-haired vixen had teeth.

For another, he suddenly felt his fear and panic give way to his hormones. He had never had a girl put her mouth on him. And he liked it. A lot.

And for a third, he felt an acute rush of embarrassment as he realized that despite being scared out of his gourd, he had no control. He was going to cum. In her mouth. Now.

With a loud moan, he threw his head back and tried to pray that he'd survive, intact, as he went over the edge, pulsing so hard he was almost cramping. He had never cum this hard in his entire life, and it simply took him over, close to passing out.

Julianna, for her part, just kept sucking and swallowing until he had no more seed to give. And then some. He actually tasted pretty damned good and there was lots of it...

"You greedy cunt," Marianne growled in a low voice. "You could have shared..."

"Mmm, fuck he's thick..." Julianna came off his cock smacking her lips. "There's a lot more where that came from," she smiled over her shoulder. "You'll get your turn."

"When he gets back from La-la-land, you mean," Marianne groused.

"Relax, Marianne. It will work out," Victoria told her. "Julianna seems to have gotten one of our points across already. And rather well."

On the couch, Stewart was struggling to focus.

What the fuck just happened? he thought through his daze. I mean, I know what happened... but what the hell happened? He tried to sit up and Julianna let him.

"Feeling better, Stud?" she asked and he nodded.

"Willing to listen to us and not freak out?" He nodded again.

"Good. Take it away, Vicky." Julianna stood and move away, and the movement of her long ginger hair as it dragged across his skin sent shivers and aftershocks through Stewart's entire body.

"We want to make you a deal," Victoria told him, making sure she had his attention. "We're willing to give you information about us, about our world, and help you write your stories in exchange for letting us feed on you once a month or so."

"Ah, ah, ah! Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" she had to exclaim as his eyes went buggy again and he started to pull his legs up. "Don't freak out! 'Feed' isn't exactly what you think it means. You need to learn a bunch of things so you don't have a panic attack every time the subject comes up."

"Maybe, Victoria," Margeaux spoke up, "we should tell him about us. How we got where we are?"

"Maybe," Victoria agreed. "Maybe, Stewart, when you know our history, you won't be as frightened. Would you like to know how we became who we are?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely yes!" It was the first intelligent sentence that had come out of his mouth. On its own, that is.

Victoria smiled, making sure to keep her fangs hidden. "Then relax and listen. Nobody's going to harm you."

* * * * *

"Charles Braidwood built this house, for Marianne," Victoria started as she settled into one of the overstuffed chairs facing the settee. "He built the mausoleum for me. You see, he was my husband before I changed. Actually, I suppose afterwards as well. Regardless, he was a business magnate, a railroad tycoon back east. Part of the Second Industrial Revolution in this country. He could be magnanimous when he wanted and ruthless when needed. He was one of the men that became known as the Robber Barons of the 19th Century."

"He and I lived in Boston, originally. In fact, he built us a home in Dorchester. It was there I had my fateful encounter with Tynian, an old Roman vampire who had emigrated to the New World to escape persecution at home. Tynian was quite the Gallant and turned many heads, mine included. No one knew his true nature. Until it was too late, that is. He seduced me with some of the most amazing sex I have ever experienced. It was he who turned me."

"Charles discovered my 'condition' as I was changing and was beside himself with grief and anger. He managed to lock me away while he expended a significant part of his fortune to have Tynian hunted down and destroyed. Oddly enough, with Tynian gone, I did not succumb, but rather, grew stronger. I also retained a very strong sense of self. In fact, I realized I still loved Charles. He, however, had grown cold towards me."

"Perhaps tending to my feeding is what put him off. Tricking unimportant and useless human chattel into becoming my victims. He arranged to have a 'funeral' for me, and to have me 'buried'. In fact, he was having a new home built, complete with mausoleum, outside of Erie. Stevedores and sailors became my food supply... men who would not be missed. It took a long time to build up a level of trust between us, but eventually we did. He would allow me to roam at night on the promise that I would not hunt humans. Deer and other game were fine. Just not humans. Only those that were provided."

"Understand, you are getting the short version here, Stewart."

"In my travels through the forests southeast of the city, I happened to pick up a pet -- a male Werewolf named Bruno. He had been living alone in the woods and hills, trying to evade capture. Apparently, some of his more uncontrolled moments had resulted in several people and quite a bit of livestock getting mauled. There was a large bounty out on him, although they thought they were hunting a large black wolf."

"I decided to bring him home and thereby won his undying loyalty. My husband was less than pleased with my decision. He was not, however, about to argue with me."

"About this time, Charles grew tired of sneaking around and having illicit affairs, which were about the only way he was going to get laid. Safely. Although my coffin, with good Boston dirt, was firmly entrenched in the mausoleum, he decided to take another wife. Personally, I didn't care. Having sex with him without being able to feed was becoming tiresome."

"Which is where I come in," Marianne spoke up. "I was wife number two."

"I had no idea about Victoria, of course. Charles was a handsome -- and very wealthy -- widower who was traveling in similar social circles as my father. We met at a party and I was smitten. After a brief courtship, he proposed and I accepted. I was told, of course, about the death of his previous wife and that he kept her remains in the mausoleum in remembrance of her. I thought that a little weird, but chalked it up to an exaggerated sense of loyalty and put it out of my mind. I was too busy having the time of my life."

"Until the night, several years later, that I caught sight of Victoria and Bruno leaving the mausoleum. I would normally have been in bed, but Charles was out of town and I was bored. So I was wandering the house. I happened to gaze out over the backyard and saw them. I thought perhaps they were trespassers, so I armed myself with one of Charles' pistols and went to investigate. They were well gone by the time I arrived."

"I determined to see if anything had been stolen from the mausoleum. The door was unlocked, which was unusual but I didn't realize it at the time. I entered and looked around, and the only odd thing was the fact that the lid was up on the casket which dominated the center of the room. Being curious, I went to take a closer look."

"What I discovered was an empty coffin about a third full of dirt and a large fur cot, or nest, in one corner. I was very confused. However, something tickled my mind about the dead that walked, and I closed up the mausoleum and went in, to Charles' library, and began digging. I found what I was looking for in the writings of Voltaire, specifically his Philosophical Dictionary. In it, he wrote about blood sucking corpses that went out at night to feed. Vampires, if you will."

"I stayed away from the mausoleum and inside the house until Charles returned a few days later. I told him about the weird things I had seen and asked if he knew what was going on. He seemed shocked that I would have investigated the mausoleum, but assured me that yes, Victoria had been buried with some of her beloved Boston earth, but that the casket was sealed and it was beyond him how I knew such an intimate detail about his first wife's burial."

"He told me he did not want to open her casket to prove it, but that I should simply believe him that she was, in fact, there. And very, very dead. I chose to listen to him, but something in my mind would not let go of what I had seen. I was not mad, I was sure of it. I decided I needed to learn how to destroy a vampire. What I managed to read wasn't very encouraging."

"Exposure to direct sunlight, a wooden stake in the heart and beheading seemed to be about the only sure ways. Or at least, the ways most authors agreed upon. Allegedly, wounding them with silver or fire would slow down their regenerative abilities and weaken them long enough to use one of the other methods. I hadn't read anything about vampire dogs, but I presumed the same would work for them."

"The idea of a vampire living, as it were, in our home really began to eat at me. Eventually I decided to fix the problem, regardless of Charles' reassurances. I fashioned a couple of very sharp wooden stakes out of ash and yew, as some of the authors suggested. I figured that one day, when Charles was off at work, I would simply go out to the mausoleum, stab the dog, open the coffin and stab the vampire."

"I was, as you can imagine, rather ingenuous."

"The day came when Charles gave me a kiss goodbye and headed in to his office. I waited half an hour, to be sure the sun was well up in case I needed to run, and went to the crypt. The door seemed stuck, but I got it open and armed with my anti-vampire stakes, I crept in. I knew nothing about werewolves."

"Or that wooden stakes are useless against them, even if you could hold the brute still long enough to drive it in."

"The moment I cleared the doorway and was in the shadow of the crypt, Bruno erupted from his nest in the corner and I was on my back having my neck gnawed. I did manage to scream and fend him off for a little bit. What I did not know was that my screaming woke Victoria. She saw Bruno attacking me and ordered him to stop. He didn't. I guess he thought he was protecting her."

"In any case, Victoria got mad when he wouldn't listen and came over to us, grabbing Bruno by the head and basically breaking his neck. Then she reached in his chest, pulled out his heart and tossed it in the corner. That is when I passed out."

"I, of course, was in a quandary," Victoria resumed. "I had to kill Bruno because he didn't obey. I certainly regretted that. But more to the point, I was standing over the unconscious form of Charles' current wife and she had been mauled by a Were. We had three, maybe four days before the full moon and it was going to be very unpleasant for her. It was going to be even more unpleasant for Charles when he found out. So I improvised."

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