Vampire Love Stories Ch. 02

The story of Tilly, born to Margaret and Henri. She matures into a young adult and adjusts to being different.

...

"You're pregnant?" Henri gasped.

Margaret responded. "Yes, and before you ask, it was after you converted. I'm sure. I had started my menstrual cycle two weeks before you left on your trip. I missed a cycle while you were gone, and my breasts are tender. I was examined by the midwife a few days ago and she confirmed it."

"We're going to have a baby," he mumbled.

And they did. Talin (meaning unclear) was born in 1752 AD. They nicknamed her Tilly. Because she was the offspring of a human mother and a vampire father, Tilly was a Dhampirs. Tilly aged normally at first. During that time, Margaret decided she wanted to join her husband in immortal life. They found a wet nurse for Tilly. Henri incorporated bites into their love making and Margaret was quickly converted. They decided living in a close-knit community would be problematic since neither would be aging. Paris would be an easier place to live their lifestyle unnoticed.

Henri had a cousin, Louis, who was an officer in the French Royal Army. He had saved the monarch's life at notable risk to himself, while others fled. The King expressed his gratitude by executing those that left him to die and awarding Louis a great deal of money. Henri offered to renounce his title and estate, which would then pass to his cousin, for a large amount of money. Louis accepted and the deal was privately consummated.

Henri and family quietly moved to Paris. They bought a comfortable home outside the city and established an art gallery. Henri renewed his arrangement with the orderly at the hospital. The blood was stored in a zeer pot to keep it cool.

As all Dhampirs do, Tilly aged normally until she was eighteen-years-old, at which point she stopped growing older. She also became immune to all conventional illness, disease, and infection.

As a Dhampir. Tilly could eat normal food like humans can, but to attain her powers she would require blood. Her parents chose to keep her vampire lineage from her, until she was more mature. Public schools were not available in Paris at that time, but Margaret saw to her education. She also began working at the gallery, helping in the back. In time she also started working with walk-in customers, although it was a minor part of the business.

They settled into a routine. Henri worked acquisitions, using his noble birth to connect with other families in need of some cash. He got up before sunset at 4:00 pm to go into the shop. Margaret managed the gallery and used her family name to sell art to the French aristocracy. Margaret stayed up past sunrise and was in the gallery until noon. In addition to helping window shoppers and minor clients, Tilly kept the financial books. She was alone in the shop from noon until around 5:00 pm.

For twelve years this was their life. The gallery was making more money every year and life was good. Late one afternoon a well-dressed gentleman entered the store. Tilly greeted him and he asked about a François Boucher painting entitled "The Love Letter." It was about twenty years old. She walked towards the back wall to show it to him. He grabbed her from behind and held a knife to her throat.

"Where's the money?" He demanded.

"We normally keep it in the back, but..." she replied.

He placed the knife at her back.

"Shut up! Lock the front door and put the 'Closed' sign out!"

She did as she was told and then led the way to the back room.

He tied her up to a chair with heavy twine and broke open the cash box. It was empty and it enraged him. He walked to Tilly and sliced her arm with the knife.

"I'm gonna kill you if you don't tell me where the money is."

"We have no sales today. I tried to tell you before, there is no money."

"I'll cut your throat you little bitch. Tell me where the money is!" He screamed.

"Cut my throat or not, I can't produce money where there is none."

"You're a sassy wench. Maybe I'll use that mouth for myself," he threatened.

Tilly remained calm and strangely was not feeling afraid. What she felt was anger. Anger that this big oaf felt entitled to take their money. Her father would be here soon and dispense with him quickly.

The would-be robber dropped his pants, exposing himself to her.

Tilly was intrigued. She had seen small boys and infants' penises. She had even seen her dad's long fat penis a few times. But she hadn't ever seen an erection before. She knew the mechanics of intercourse and had looked at drawings, but here was the real thing... fascinating.

"What you lookin' at you bitch? You scared?"

"No, not really." She replied.

That comment caught him off-guard. He was accustomed to frightening people. 'Maybe this little twat ain't right in the head.' He thought, as he stroked himself.

"I'm gonna fuck your face... ram my big cock down your little throat until you choke."

With all the distain and sarcasm, a teenager can muster, she replied, "Whatever."

He grabbed her hair and pushed her head back.

"You relax. If you bite me, I'll slit your throat."

Tilly remained undaunted by the man's attempts to intimidate her. She was still furious at his behavior, but also curious about what it would feel and taste like. He shoved it in and pulled her head towards him. His dick wasn't big, but her mouth was quite small. She gagged once, but then simply relaxed. He tasted of urine and body odor. She found it mildly unpleasant. He thrust into her a half dozen times and then ejaculated.

"Swallow it all or I'll slit your throat!"

'Do this, do that or I'll slit your throat!' she mockingly thought. 'This asshole has no imagination.'

She swallowed, not because of his threat, but because she wanted to know what it tasted like. He pulled his pants up and began rummaging through boxes and drawers. She found herself enjoying the taste, which surprised her. He hoped he could find something of value. He came across a box of wine and opened one. After a couple of swigs from the bottle, he resumed his search.

After about ten minutes, Tilly felt a surge of energy. Her forearm tingled and she watched the knife cut heal in a matter of seconds. She decided to stand up and the thick twine easily fell away. Standing and watching this ruffian tossing her family's possessions around, brought a rush of anger.

"Stop it!" She said, sounding like a half dozen men shouting.

Startled, he turned towards her

When he saw they were still alone, he smiled.

Walking towards her, he said, "Now, I'm gonna..."

She interrupted, "... I know, I know... slice my throat. Yeah, right."

She jumped over ten feet in the air and landed on his shoulders. He fell, dropping the knife and she rode him down and ended sitting on his chest. She pushed one hand down on his throat and scratched his eye with the other. Blood spurted out, along with the eyeball. Her hand, relatively small compared to his neck, was cutting off his air. He thrashed around with his arms trying to knock her off. Becoming tired of his struggling, she took his head with both hands and turned it around backwards. He stopped moving.

"Tilly! What's going on? What have you done?"

"Hello papa. I'm not sure how, but I've killed a robber and rapist."

"He raped you?"

"Well, not vaginally. He pushed his penis in my mouth and ejaculated."

"Mon ange (My Angel), Are you injured?"

"He cut my arm. But after the rape it healed... completely, in an instant. I was so angry... I felt so strong... I didn't mean to kill him."

"Tais-toi mon enfant (Be quiet, my child). You have done nothing wrong. Did you bite him?"

"Eww, no!"

"I'm sorry, but I just need to clarify a detail. The only part of him you consumed was his semen."

"Yes. I wanted to know what it tastes like. Was that wrong?"

"All the wrong is on him, mon ange. You were attacked and defended yourself. You are not to blame for any part of this. Let's close the gallery and go home and wake up your maman. She will want to hear from you."

"May I wash my mouth out first?"

"Certainement, mon enfant. Certainement."

Upon hearing the news, Margaret jumped from the bed and picked Tilly up like a baby. She hugged her and shared the same ideas about blame that Henri had. When things settled down, Margaret looked at Henri, who nodded his head. She told Tilly the history of the family. With some trepidation, she revealed they were both vampires.

"I knew that." Tilly responded. "But I don't need blood, so I figured I wasn't."

They were both startled she knew the family 'secret.' Henri took over and told Tilly about her Dhampir inherited powers.

"You are already immortal and will not age any more than you are now. You have immunity from disease and infection as well. With the consumption of 'human essence,' usually blood, you could have superhuman strength, speed, agility, reflexes, enhanced senses, endurance, mind control over others, and rapid healing. While human sweat, tears, saliva, and sperm can provide some access to power, these human essences are not as potent as blood."

Margaret added, "So, your dad and I believe what happened tonight was you experienced your potential powers by swallowing the robber's, uh, 'essence.' Dhampirs may only need to feed on blood once a week. But, the powers from the semen will probably only last a few days."

Tilly thanked her parents for the information. She asked for some time at home to 'think' about this experience and what it meant to her. Her parents understood and encouraged her to ask any questions any time. Tilly left them to go to her room. Henri had a body to dispose of and left for the gallery. Margaret tried to sleep, but concern about her daughter kept her awake most of the day.

Several days later, after Tilly's temporary powers diminished. She accepted the situation and returned to work a couple of weeks later. For several years things remained the same. The business grew slowly but each year showed a higher profit.

One afternoon there was a rough-looking man waiting around outside the shop. Nothing came of it, but it troubled Tilly. That evening she told her parents she wanted to try blood. She liked the power she had experienced temporarily and wanted to be able to protect herself. They gave her a cup from the zeer pot. It was cool and not unpleasant to drink. Fifteen minutes later, she vomited it back up. Over several days multiple combinations were attempted... hot, cold, with sugar, mixed with les céréales müslix... beer... water... wine. All permutations were expelled violently after fifteen minutes.

"Oh, great! I'm an 'almost' vampire that's allergic to blood!"

"I'm sorry dear," her mother soothed.

The following week Margaret suggested Henri 'hire a boy' to supply semen. He suggested she talk to Tilly. Henri liked the idea and knew he would have no trouble locating a willing boy. Tilly agreed but wanted the boy to do it without any 'mind control.'

"Don't worry, mon ange, I could find boys all night long who would accept pay for something they enjoy doing freely."

He did, as promised, find an attractive young man, a merchant's son. Tilly wanted the boy to come to the house to masturbate. She wanted to be sure he was the source and not someone else.

The following evening a shy, quiet, young man knocked on the door after sunset. He was allowed to use the card room and do the deed in private. He ejaculated on a plate, collected what amounted to an entire day's wages at the family shop, paid by his father, and hurriedly left. Tilly went in after he was gone and licked the plate. She enjoyed the salty taste and consistency. It was much better than the robber's spent. Fifteen minutes later she had her powers.

Business was continuing to grow. The young man, Emile, showed up on time once a week to leave his 'deposit'. After several months Tilly decided she wanted to watch Emile. Her parents had ceded responsibility for letting him in the house, then paying him upon delivery, and seeing him out. So, one evening instead of completely sliding the door to the card room closed, she left a small gap.

The dish was placed on a side table. Emile walked up and dropped his pants to the floor. Unfortunately for Tilly he was facing away from her. She admired his firm muscular butt and how he quivered all over when he came. But it wasn't what she had hoped to see. The next week she moved the sofa so she would have her view. He arrived on schedule, and she let him in. This time her viewpoint was from the side. He dropped his pants and began running a hand up and down his shaft. It began limp, but quickly grew stiff. He spit in his hand, and it slid more easily. She was fascinated by the way his balls bounced forwards and backwards, as his hand moved more quickly. He bent over and picked the dish up, aiming his ejaculate carefully, to avoid any overshot. When he finished, he wiped the end of his cock on the edge of the plate, and quickly pulled his pants back up.

It had happened so quickly; Tilly barely had time to back away from the door. Emile pushed it aside and stepped in the hallway. She led him to the front door.

"Merci beaucoup," she smiled, as she paid him.

Emile nodded his head and left.

For a couple of months this was the weekly routine. Tilly watched through the gap in the door. Emile began having an erection when he arrived. His cock popped out and swayed around when he pulled his pants down. Sometimes he would grab it quickly and begin. Other times he would allow it to wobble freely and not take it in hand before it stopped. Occasionally, he would reach inside his shirt and pinch his nipples. As he became more comfortable with this odd arrangement, he began to make sounds of pleasure.

Tilly obsessed about these few moments, watching Emile engaging in this very private behavior. In her bedroom she began visualizing Emile, while touching herself. She had been masturbating for several years. But the visualizations gave her much more intense orgasms. She realized she wanted him to know she was watching.

For the next visit, instead of closing the door from the hall, she closed it from inside the card room. Emile turned towards her.

"I want to watch you," she stated matter-of-factly.

"But you have been watching me for a while."

This surprised Tilly, but she pushed ahead with her plan.

"I'm going to sit down and be closer."

"Comme vous voulez mademoiselle." (As you wish, Madame)

"Merci beaucoup."

Tilly sat on the sofa and Emile dropped his pants. His cock sprang free, but he rested his hands by his sides. She looked up, but his eyes were downturned. When his cock settled, he spat in his hand and began slowly moving up and down the shaft. Tilly found it hypnotic.

Emile had many questions about this arrangement but feared asking them. It was incredibly embarrassing at first. But until tonight, it felt almost comfortable. He kept the money he had earned from his parents. At some point he would have enough to leave the city. He dreamed of traveling to Belgium. He knew she was staring, but he couldn't bring himself to make eye contact. He blushed vividly and came quickly. After he pulled his pants up, he waited to be led out.

"I appreciate you letting me watch. It was interesting. If you knew I was watching, why didn't you say something?"

"Your house... your rules." He replied softly.

"I'd like to watch every week. Is that OK with you?"

He paused for several seconds debating with himself about whether to tell the truth or deflect the question. The truth won.

"I'd like that. It's very, uh, very erotic to be watched. Having you in the room is exciting."

"Merci," she purred.

She paid him a little extra and let him out. Then she went to her room and touched herself while visualizing his image saying, '... very erotic to be watched.' It was the best orgasm of her life.

The next week she asked Emile to take all his clothes off. He blushed deeply but was quickly naked. She noted he had bathed. His muscular young body was taut with clearly defined muscle groups. His rigid cock was so engorged, it stood almost vertical. The dark, almost black, hair on his head was duplicated in a kinky, curly way around it. His balls hung several inches below the base of his member. She ached to touch him but restrained herself. Emile's masturbation that day was almost angry in intensity. He pumped furiously, sending the nuts flapping in all directions. When he came, the dish was covered more thickly than ever before.

Emile returned the next week with great anticipation. What had started as an extremely bizarre way to earn some of his own money had morphed into an exceptionally sexy adventure. He was a virgin and had never been naked in front of a young woman... or any women for that matter. He trembled with excitement, as he knocked on the door.

Tilly let him in, and they went immediately to the card room. When she had closed the door, he untied his shirt and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oui s'il vous plait," she replied to his physical question.

He undressed and again was fully erect as he stepped out of his pants. He waited for some indication from her what to do next. She stood and walked over in front of him. His cock moved slightly with his heartbeat. Emile's face and chest were flushed red with awkwardness and some humiliation. He struggled to understand why being naked for her was so thrilling.

"May I touch you?" She whispered.

Emile swallowed and stuttered, "Uh, y... y... yes."

Tilly dragged a fingernail down from his neck to below his bellybutton. Goosebumps covered his arms and chest. Walking around behind him, she rubbed her hands over his butt cheeks. She thought his body was breathtakingly marvelous and perfect in every way. She yearned to wrap her arms around him and feel his skin on hers. The thought made her shiver. Continuing her circuit, she dragged a finger around his waist. When she was standing in front of him again, she cupped his balls. They lifted, contracting from her touch.

Emile had never been more turned-on. His body buzzed with sexual energy. It overwhelmed him. He groaned and unloaded. Cum shot up in an arc between them and landed on Tilly's dress and arms. His head was back, and his eyes were closed. He didn't grab himself and had no idea where the ejaculate was going.

Tilly remained quiet and still. It was a moment she would literally never forget. Five hundred years from now, she would recall everything about it. When Emile became aware of what had happened, he was mortified. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him.

"Oh... I, uh... I didn't mean... My god! I've got to go..."

He bent down to pick up his pants. Tilly put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back on the sofa. He landed sitting upright and pulled his clothes over his lap. Emile felt like he had destroyed something. He bent his head in disgrace, unable to look at Tilly in the eyes.

"Look at me," she said slowly.

When he raised his eyes to hers, she felt his anguish. She had gotten some feelings and a few thoughts from gallery customers. But the impact of his emotions felt like a physical blow. He was frightened, worried... almost distraught. She felt the urge to ease his pain... make him forget by manipulating his thoughts.

Instead, she spoke tenderly to him. "It's not your fault. I should have asked your permission to touch you there. I am not upset, angry, or disappointed. In a way I'm glad it happened. Please don't leave. Will you stay?"

It was almost impossible to speak, but Emile managed to reply.

"If you want me to."

"Thank you."

Tilly walked over to the billiard table and picked up a hand towel. She used a scrubbing motion to wipe off the cum spots on her dress and arms. Offering her hand, she pulled him onto his feet. She took his balled-up clothes and tossed them further down the sofa and sat down, where he had been.