There are Vampires

Authors note -

This is a story about vampires, and about incest. I debated which category this would best fit in, but i think the TABOO category will be best. But this is primarily a vampire story...with incest. (Rather than an incest story...with vampires.)

I am English. Spelling and grammar are UK appropriate.

I have imagined the story taking place in the USA, but as usual, have never stated specifically where the story takes place. I am sorry if I have made geographical or cultural mistakes.

Every time I write a story, I try to challenge myself. My challenge this time was to write in present tense, rather than past tense (my preferred tense). Please forgive any small grammar errors you spot or awkwardness from the tenses.

As always, all characters are over 18 at the time of any sexual interaction.

I look forward to your comments and feedback after.

The Other Teacher.

- - -

There are vampires.

They exist.

I know. I'm one.

By 2035, over 25% of the people on the planet are vampires.

Most of the public openly accepts, and even admires those individuals.

The world has changed forever.

I am, in many ways, the one responsible for this.

I was born in 1966. My name is Stacy.

This is my story.

- - -

Chapter 1 - prelude

Chapter 2 - reborn

Chapter 3 - alone

Chapter 4 - family reunion

Chapter 5 - unusual company

Chapter 6 - mainstream

- - -

Chapter 1 - prelude

It begins in 1988.

But the prelude is 1986.

I am twenty.

I hate my home life. I live with my alcoholic father and my cowering, submissive mother. I have a part time job as a secretary, but spend my whole day there, an excuse to avoid being at home.

My older sister Elaine moved out recently to live with her boyfriend. She just had a baby. She names him Malachi. The baby doesn't look like her boyfriend. It looks like our father. We pretend it doesn't.

Mother is no help. I fight off my fathers advances almost every evening. He always asks. I always say no. I fear one day he won't take 'no' for an answer.

I remember my aunt. Mum's sister. They used to be close. I still remember her a little when I was five or six. Aunt Marie, with her curly blonde hair and strongly smelling perfume.

Then something happened. I don't know what. But they stopped speaking. We lost contact.

In the dark one evening, when the house was sleeping, I hunt through old documents. I find her last address. It's a town far away.

I don't know if she still lives there. But I write her a letter anyway. I post it from my work, so my parents don't find out. I list my job as the return address.

Two weeks later, I get a reply.

"If things are that bad, you can come here. I'll put the key under a green flowerpot."

There is no love in the message. It is not friendly. But it is the only chance I have.

I don't tell my parents I'm leaving. I tell nobody from work. The last thing I do is collect my weekly pay and slide a letter to my sister into the 'outgoing' mail tray, explaining everything.

I catch a cheap bus, and take the long road trip. I have one bag of clothes that I smuggled out the house.

Two days later I arrive in the town.

It's the type of town that is always overcast, even in summer. But never too cold, or too windy. The type of town that is always in shades of grey.

Strangely, it's known for its music scene. A large number of discos, live music cafes and rock band concerts. Perhaps mediocrity drives people to be creative in such a bland place.

I find the house. It looks almost abandoned. But the key is under the green flowerpot, just like Aunt Marie said.

The inside of the house is empty. There's no life there. But it's clean.

I sit in the house, unsure what to do.

There is a knock at the door. I answer it tepidly, wondering if it was Aunt Marie, and if and why she would knock on the door of her own house.

There's a woman my age at the door. She has striking red hair. It curls over her shoulders in an untamed mess. Her face has got a large birthmark on the left cheek. Her chest is flat and lifeless. She's got bags with her.

"Are you Stacy?" she asks. "Marie sent me."

She comes in and starts unloading her bags. Food and fresh bed sheets.

She doesn't explain anything. She says as she leaves "that's for Marie to explain." But she adds cryptically "I hope you'll join us."

It's the late evening when Aunt Marie arrives in her home.

I don't recognise her at first.

I knew her in 1971. She was probably in her late twenties then. She's two years older than mum.

It's been fifteen years. She hasn't aged a day.

More than that. She looks younger. She looks twenty one.

And she's gorgeous. More gorgeous than before somehow. She looks like a supermodel, or something from a swimwear catalogue. She was never ugly. But she was never this.

She hugs me. I feel the warmth in her hug, and know she does love me. But I don't understand.

She explains she doesn't really live in this house anymore. That she lives with friends. But I was free to use the house for a while, if I needed it. And that she would come and visit me some evenings when possible.

She asks me about my skills. I tell her about my job as a secretary. That I'm good at typing. She says she might know someone who can give me a job.

I don't want to upset my aunt, but I don't understand. How can she be younger than before? How can she have become more beautiful?

She goes quiet. And after a moment, she says "I'm in a cult".

I know she's lying. People in cults don't know they are in cults. And they don't admit it, even if they do. But if that's a better lie than the truth, I'm worried about the truth.

"OK" I say, and I leave the topic at that.

----

Two days later, another young woman, this time with dark skin and white vitiligo patches, comes to the house door, bringing more groceries, and a note saying when and where to go for a job interview. A local law firm. Three days later and I start my first day. Aunt Marie comes over in the evening to celebrate with me.

For the next month, it's the same thing. Aunt Marie comes to visit every two or three days. She always arrives in the evening.

Each time she comes, I try to learn more about her situation. About the cult. Or the truth behind the cult.

Finally, she relents.

"What do you know about vampires?" she asks.

She doesn't ask if I believe in them. Only what I know. I've seen movies about them. I've heard of Dracula, but never read the book. I tell her all the cliches I know. She listens carefully.

"It's not like the films" she tells me when I'm finished. "It's not magic. It's more like a caterpillar becoming a moth. Something inside our DNA."

And at this point, I know everything she's telling me is true. And that she's talking from her own experiences. That my aunt is a vampire. I'm not afraid.

"Most of that movie stuff is bullshit. I don't turn into a bat, or a wolf. Crosses and religious symbols mean nothing. I can be seen in mirrors and photographs. But some of those things are true. Sunlight burns our skin quicker than before. We don't feel the cold. We drink blood. I drink blood."

She smiles wide at me, and for the first time, I see her teeth sticking out. Her vampiric fangs. She laughs at my surprise and hides her fangs again.

"But not a lot of blood. About the same as a can of coke a day maybe. We would never drink all of someone's blood. We also eat normal food, just like you. The blood...is a supplement."

"Do you have..." I ask, pointing at her neck. I use two fingers to indicate bite marks.

She moves her blonde curls away to reveal a perfect, spotless neck.

"It doesn't work like that," she says. But she doesn't explain more.

"Do you have any more questions?" She asks.

"Are you happy?" I ask. "Happier than before?"

She thinks in silence. For longer than I expected.

"There are pros, and there are cons. I've looked twenty-one for the past thirteen years. I never get sick. I've never felt so alive. The others like me make me feel like I belong. Like I'm in a family...

...But I must drink other people's blood. I can never get pregnant. Never have children. I can feel the sunshine for only a few minutes a day at most....but on balance, yes. I'm happier than before."

Then she asks me the question I've been waiting for.

"Would you like to meet them? My other family?"

"Would I..." a tremble in my voice "need to become...like you?"

She laughs a hearty laugh. "It's an exclusive club, being a vampire. We only invite one or two girls a year to become like us. You can visit as my guest. Nothing will happen to you."

I notice she doesn't talk about men. But I hold my tongue.

"When can we go?"

"Tomorrow evening? If you want?"

----

She has a motorbike. A little Italian vespa thing that we ride carefully together. I wear the only helmet.

It's only a ten minute ride to the place. It's an old abandoned middle school. "We tell the police we are a hippy cult. We give them head sometimes and they leave us alone."

It's the first time she's mentioned sex to me.

We are greeted by some girls. I recognise them from when I first arrived. The girl with the facial birthmark and the girl with vitiligo who brought the job interview note. They seem welcoming and friendly.

As we walk in the cafeteria, both Aunt Marie and I are given plates of ratatouille without even asking. We sit at a communal bench. It's delicious.

"These girls are applicants," she explains. "That's what we call them. They want to be vampires. 'A lady', like me. So they live with us, and do the day tasks we can't easily do. And of course, the master..." but her voice trails off and she changes the subject..

I see old classrooms have been converted into bedrooms, with black-out blinds on the windows. The rooms have comfortable double beds. They don't have coffins. They don't sleep hanging from the ceiling like bats.

"Many of the ladies are out on the town" she says. "The vampires like me." But I do meet two other vampire girls there. It was easy to spot them. They are stunningly beautiful, just like Aunt Marie. They both look in their early twenties, like girls starting university. They are both friendly. Nothing like the movies. One spoke with a russian-like accent. Another had a local accent.

"Are there no men here?" I asked after seeing yet another couple of female applicants.

"Only one" Aunt Marie replies. "We only know him as 'master'. He doesn't even speak English. One of the other ladies who speaks...slovakian I think...translates if he needs."

"Why only women?"

"Because master is a man" Another woman (the one with the birthmark) replies, overhearing our conversation. "He doesn't go out to drink, like the ladies. Each night, two of us give ourselves to him. And he prefers women. It's pretty easy. I'm Rita by-the-way."

I shake her hand.

"But why not other male vampires?"

"That" says Rita "Is more complicated. Apparently making a woman a vampire is easy for the master. But making a man a vampire is...well..."

"It's a closely guarded secret" Aunt Marie finishes the sentence for her, giving her a look to say she almost crossed a line. Rita shrinks back apologetically.

Just before we leave, I finally catch a glimpse of the man they all call 'Master'. Standing at the doorway to one of the rooms. Naked. Looking deeply at me. Kneeling in front of him, sucking hard on his cock, one of the applicants with dark black hair past her shoulders.

He looked slavic, like a Russian or Polish man. Muscles like a builder. Looking twenty one or twenty two.

If most normal men were fives or sixes, and movie stars were tens...he was an eleven.

I'd never seen a man so handsome.

I feel a stab of jealously at that woman sucking on his cock.

I only see him for a moment, but that is enough.

I don't care about being a vampire. I just want to be his.

"Come on" Aunt Marie says to me, breaking me out of my trance. "Let's get you home."

---

She seems sluggish on the way home.

When we get to the house, I ask her why she's more pale. Why she's lost her energy.

"Oh...I just haven't drunk in a few days."

I realise what she means.

"Usually I go to a disco, or something, to find a meal."

She hasn't drunk blood, because she has been with me.

"You only drink a little, right?" I ask. "A glass of wine of blood?"

"More like two glasses. But yes. Not a lot"

"It's too late for the disco" I point out. It's almost 3am. "What will you do?"

She shrugged. "Maybe get an applicant to help me out. Part of their job is to...help us..if we can't find another meal elsewhere."

I'm feeling brave. Feeling like I owe her. For helping me escape my old life. For getting me a home and a job. Inviting me to see her world.

"Um....would you...like to drink from me?" I ask timidly. "If it's only a little" I add.

She looks at me with both wanting, and shock.

"I'm happy to!" I add quickly.

I move my hair, showing her my neck. Inviting her.

She shakes her head.

"Please!" I say to her, practically begging, grabbing her nearest hand. "I want to help you!"

Defeated, she shrugs. "OK. If you're sure."

Again, I offer her my neck.

"But that's not where we bite" she replies. "Go into your bedroom and go down to your underwear" she says. "I'll be there in a minute".

Unsure, I do what she says.

In my bedroom, I get undressed. Only my red bra and panties. I feel unsure. But I'm not going to back out of it.

In the bathroom I hear her gargling my mouthwash.

Aunt Marie walks into the room. She's still dressed as she was before.

"Lie on the bed" she says and I have a flash of memory of boys from the past. When I'd spend time with boys in their houses so I didn't have to go home. And boys in their bedrooms want you for only one thing. But it felt good, and it was better than being with my parents, so I'd lie on my back and I'd lie and tell the boys how big their cocks were inside me.

Aunt Marie joins me on the bed, near my feet. Her head moving towards my crotch, like the more courteous boys used to do. I couldn't help but feel aroused. She was my aunt. But she didn't look like it. She looked like a supermodel. Like every man and lesbian's fantasy. And her head getting closer and closer to my pussy.

Her hands go to my legs tenderly, and push them apart. Giving space for her head.

But she didn't take off my panties.

She didn't touch them at all.

Her mouth sank over the skin on my right inner thigh. Her eyes focused only on my leg.

And then she bit down.

I thought it would hurt. That I'd feel pain as her teeth sunk in and she sucked as my blood dripped into her mouth. But I didn't.

I later learn vampire mouths have anaesthetic. That a vampire kiss feels like nothing, but leaves your mouth numb. That they can bite you and you'll feel nothing. You might not even know you've been bitten.

There we stayed, in that awkward moment of sexual tension, until she'd finished drinking. As I laid there, seeing her head so close to my crotch, I daydreamed of her doing more. Taking off my panties and touching me, licking me. Guiding her fingers inside me...

"I'm finished," she said. "Thank you Stacy. It really means a lot to me."

She left the bed, and then the house. Not another word said. And it was that moment I realised she was feeling the taboo desire as much as me. But she was a better woman than I.

I check my leg. Two small wounds, already clotted over. You wouldn't see them if you weren't looking.

I touch myself before sleeping, and lie to myself, telling myself I'm masturbating over boys, or the master. That I'm definitely not touching myself to the idea of my aunt's private love.

--------

We never speak of that night again.

But I start spending time with Aunt Marie and her 'friends' at the old school more and more.

I get to see the master more this way, though now clothed. He would join us in the cafeteria for meals. There is even a Commodore 64 in one room and I watch him play for a while. He still couldn't or wouldn't speak with us in English. Svetlana interpetes everything for him. She's basically his shadow. Her straight, raven black hair down her whole back.

I get creepy vibes from her. LIke she's protecting the master. Like they are more connected than others. Like brother and sister. Or mother and son. She's the only one of 'the ladies' I don't trust. The only one I don't interact with.

I'm not 'an applicant' but I start paying some money towards the bills for the 'cult'. They are all keen for me to keep working my normal job. They want me in the local community as much as possible. I tell them about rumours I hear, and attend local community meetings, suggesting people should leave 'the cult' alone as they aren't hurting anyone.

One day I overhear some drunk men talking about visiting the school. Because it's only poor, defenceless young ladies. Nobody older than thirty and usually only women.

I quickly tell a member of the local police. A man who is favourable to the cult.

The drunk men are stopped before arriving at the school. Nothing happens.

The friendly policeman comes to check on us. I watch him go into a bedroom with my aunt, and one of the other ladies. Forty five minutes later he comes out, looking happy but pale.

Aunt Marie is licking her lips.

Master is pleased with me, I'm told.

- - -

It's a warm October evening and I'm invited to join him for the first time.

Every evening, he picks two of the applicants. Some get picked more than others. There are twelve to pick from at the moment. It's always two girls. I fantasise about his stamina.

But tonight, he picks me. He says something to Svetlana, and she tells me to choose the second applicant.

I think about Rita. She's a close friend now. I'm worried about damaging our friendship, but her eyes say 'pick me' so I point to her, and we enter the Master's bedroom together.

The middle of the room is a bed. It looks soft and inviting, though with one or two stains on the sheet, faded by washing but not removed entirely. There are several bedside cabinets, all with condom packets, both full and empty, on the tops.

Svetlana joins us as number four in the room, and closes the door behind us.

Master speaks, and Svetlana translates.

"GET NAKED"

"KISS"

"TOUCH EACH OTHER"

I sensually touch and kiss flat-chested Rita. As she slides a finger into my wet pussy, I remember the only time before today that I'd been close to a woman. Touched a woman. Tasted a woman.

It had been the day after my sister moved out of the family home. Father was drunk and furious. Mother was drinking even more than him. I didn't want to be there that evening.

I looked in a local bar for any of the guys I knew from school. Guys I knew would let me sleep in their bed if I let them thrust inside me for a couple of minutes. But none were there that night.

But Tegan was there. Tegan was an exchange student from Canada. Tegan was a lesbian. Tegan had a double bed.

And that night, I learned how a woman can love another woman.

"TAKE OFF OUR CLOTHES"

The instruction snaps me back to the moment. Rita knows I want the master, so she undresses Svetlana. And I undress The Master.

His body is exactly as I remember it from those seconds before. Muscled. Young and fit. My dream. My pussy quakes at just the sight of his cock. It's bigger than any I've seen before in real life.

I want to put it in my mouth then and there, but the command comes to "STAND BACK" before I can.

Looking at both Svetlana and the Master together, it must have been how mortals saw the gods in the past. They both look in their early twenties. They both could have been a hundred. They could have been a thousand. It didn't matter. In this room, they were divine. They were gods. And gods can do whatever they want to my body.