Vampires on a Train

Marissa was another story. He found the silver stake, the one he had smelted and poured in his own kitchen years ago but never had occasion to use. It wasn't very big, but it was anointed with holy water and consecrated to St. Giles and was the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. This would be the one to use. His prey was rare now; there was no need to save it. He took that one out and, just to be sure, he selected another stake made of hazel-wood as back up, thicker and more substantial.

The question now was where to hide them. The compartment had two bench seats that folded down into beds. He was sure that they'd sit against the forward wall so that when they looked out the window, they would see where they'd been and not where they were going. Vampires had an instinctive aversion to the future. It was one of the ways in which they differed from humans.

He stuffed the linden-wood stake down between the seat and the backrest, then pushed the other two down at end of the seat, between the cushion and the car wall. the silver one on top. On impulse, he selected a gold crucifix and put it around his neck. Religious symbols didn't have much effect anymore, especially on the younger vampires, but the cold weight of the metal against his chest was some reassurance.

He checked that he could reach the stakes without much trouble, then stood up again. He was taking a terrible chance. His victims had always been the aged, coffin-bound and defenseless, and Marissa, though weak, was still young and potentially dangerous. He'd heard the legends of the vampires' sexual prowess, but he knew it only existed in the young, before they grew dry and desiccated and all feeling left their bodies. It was terribly rash to put himself in harm's way like this,. but still, something drew him on. His hands shook with excitement.

The train roared past some night-darkened town, the crossing gate bell clanging with urgency as he checked to see that nothing was visible. The time to get them would be after the sex, or perhaps during. That's when they'd be the weakest. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

He locked the valise and returned it to the luggage rack, smoothed his hair back and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look nervous.

Or so he thought, for when he heard the soft knock and opened the door, he wasn't quite prepared for the two women who walked in. Marissa still wore her blue glasses and a black wool cape, but beneath it was something very tight and black and made of sturdy leather that covered her from toes to fingertips, adorned with laces and buckles and shiny silver fasteners, a kind of leather armor that no doubt protected her from the bites and scratches of struggling victims. The thought filled him with salacious excitement. Sarah on the other hand looked totally unprotected. She wore a long cloth coat and a black leather collar around her neck fastened with a tiny silver padlock. There was a leash attached, and Marissa held the other end casually in one hand, a leather riding crop in the other as she led the girl into the compartment.

"Happy Halloween," she joked.

"And to you too, I'm sure." He closed the door behind them and locked it.

Marissa waited till she had his attention, then turned around and gave a little tug on Sarah's leash. "Show," she said.

Sarah shrugged off the coat let it fall to the floor. She stood revealed in a gauzy white night dress, the traditional garb of the female vampire. Her magnificent breasts were plainly visible through the thin fabric, as was her slim waist and the luxurious swell of her hips. It was obvious that she wore nothing beneath the gown. She was freshly made up to devastating effect, looking both beautiful and dangerous, and very unlike the silly girl he'd just had dinner with.

The train roared through another crossing with a loud clattering as Marissa sat down on the bench seat by the window, facing backwards. She glanced at Ted. "Acceptable?"

His mouth was dry. "Yes. Quite," he said nervously.

"Good." She handed him leash.

He held it uncertainly as Sarah stood there, looking at him from beneath her lowered lashes. Marissa lounged on the seat, eyeing them both.

Ted laughed nervously. "I hardly know how to begin."

"Get the lights," Marissa said. "The dark is much more soothing."

He hit the switch and the compartment filled with darkness, save for the red exit signs. Marissa sighed and at last took off her glasses, shook her long blonde curls out and folded them and put them on the windowsill. As he'd expected, she had no sort of conjunctivitis. As far as he could see, her eyes were lovely—hypnotic in the dark.

"Sarah?" Marissa spoke as to a child. "Don't be rude. You know what to do."

The girl stepped up to Ted and put her arms around his neck. Her warm, firm breasts pillowed against his chest as she pulled his head down for a lingering kiss, filled with sexual urgency. Her mouth was sweet, and her body as warm as a long summer day. She was a wonderful kisser, her tongue teasing him shyly until he pursued, and then retreating in feminine modesty, her lips melting beseechingly against his as his masculine desire asserted itself. She knew just how to provoke, and then retreat so as to draw him in. There was nothing supernatural about the surge of desire he felt—hot, urgent, and full of blood.

Marissa smiled and tapped the end of her crop against her lower lip. "She warms up quickly, don't you find?"

"My God," he breathed, stepping away. His heart was pounding.

Sarah was breathing faster too, and her breasts rose and fell as she reached up and pulled down the bodice of her gown, letting them surge over the hem, round and ripe, the nipples already erect and reaching for him with urgency. He could sense Marissa smiling, but he couldn't resist as Sarah reached up and tenderly pulled his head down to her breast. He smelled her perfume, her girlish freshness and the milky warm scent of her skin, closed his eyes and felt the stiff yet velvety skin of her nipple against his lips. He sucked it inside and felt her shudder and heard her sudden sharp intake of breath. Instinctively, he sucked it deeper, an infant again with an infant's pleasures. Sarah rose up on her toes to give him access and whimpered, proud to be the source of his pleasure. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, comforting him, clinging to the back of his neck for support.

Marissa tapped him on the leg with the crop. "Do you know how to use this?"

He looked at her in confusion, reluctant to let Sarah's breast out of his mouth, but Marissa held it out to him insistently.

"Go ahead. She loves it, the little whore. Watch."

Marissa used the crop to separate them, then, without even bothering to stand, she brought the end down smartly against the very nipple he'd just been sucking. Sarah gasped and brought her shoulders up protectively, but quickly recovered and forced her elbows back, presenting herself for another blow. She looked at Ted with fire in her eyes, inviting him to try his hand.

"I couldn't," he said helplessly.

"Not to your taste, [I[Ted[/I]?" Marissa mocked. "No matter. Here, sit down next to me. Sarah, on your knees."

Sarah pushed him gently, and despite her small size, he let himself be guided back onto the bench. The wheels clicked steadily over the track and the coach rocked as he sat down and Sarah came and leaned over him, her hands on his knees. He could see her big jugs hanging pendulously beneath her, swaying with the train's gentle motion.

Sarah got down on her knees and leaned forward, her hands on his thighs, put her mouth over the bulge in his trousers, and for a moment he got a glimpse of the animal she might be, predatory and hungry. She opened her mouth and closed her even white teeth gently on his stiff shaft, and he felt the hot steam of her breath through the fabric of his trousers.

He stared down at her, eyes bulging as her skilled fingers found the tab on his zipper and lowered it. She delicately opened the fly of his shorts and extracted his thick cock, gently, as if she were performing surgery, then let it spring up, hard and rampant and gleaming in the blood red light of the swaying coach. The tension in the car was as thick as the darkness, the occasional trackside light sweeping over them like the beam of a lighthouse.

"Do it," Marissa whispered. "Suck his prick."

Sarah ducked her head and touched her tongue to his balls, and Ted looked down to see that beautiful, girlish face half hidden by the shadow of his thick, menacing shaft. The contrast of her childlike beauty with the fleshy brutality of his meat made the blood pound in his veins, and he was filled with sudden thoughts of violence, rape and carnage. Sarah looked up at Marissa with slavish eagerness, and the blonde nodded her head. Sarah closed her eyes and opened her mouth and dropped her face into his lap. his cock sliding into the open gorge of her mouth..

"Oh Christ!" he wailed. She took it all, an impossible length. His stomach jerked with a sudden paroxysm of pleasure.

Her mouth was hot and deep and sweet, and she had the passively aggressive nature of the natural-born cock-sucker, deriving sensual pleasure from the feel of a man's heavy prick lying on her tongue, controlling him through her own urge to be penetrated. She pressed her face into his pubic hair, sucking him in, and he felt the head of his tool slide against the ridged roof of her mouth as her wet, velvety tongue caressing him from beneath. Deeper, deeper, and his glans bumped against the sticky tissue of her soft pallet. He felt her throat spasm and then open up around him, and a surge of pure sensory overload made him jerk in her mouth as his cock passed her epiglottis. His head snapped back against the seat as if he'd received an electric shock

Marissa smiled and pressed herself against his shoulder, her hand reaching out to squeeze the inside of his thigh. "Good, isn't she?"

Sarah lived up to her cat-like image now as she pounced on his prick and began bobbing her head over him, as if he were prey she would swallow. He was dimly aware that she'd gathered her dress up around her hips and was playing between her thighs, and the realization that she was masturbating only added fuel to his raging fire. These women would stop at nothing. They simply had no shame. There was no telling what they'd do for him.

"Oh fuck!" he moaned, the sound of the forbidden obscenity on his lips only heightening his excitement. His fingers dug into the soft cushion of the seat and he arched his back, pressing his head against the backrest, thrusting his hips into the sucking warmth of Sarah's young mouth. He felt Marissa shift beside him, and then seemingly overwhelmed by the salacious scene in front of her, her lips came down on his, and for the first time he felt the forbidden heat of the vampire's kiss.

Her lips were hard, all-consuming and as enveloping as the grave. Her kiss was hunger, and yet sweeter and more feminine than anything he'd ever felt, promising comfort and darkness. She held her hair out of the way and her tongue licked insidiously at his teeth, promising pleasures more obscene than he could possibly imagine if he just let her inside, and he couldn't refuse. The lips that had tasted blood now tasted his, and with the same greed and carnivorous hunger. Her long tongue was in his mouth and she breathed her breath into his throat, breath that was hot with female sexuality and a predatory neediness that enveloped his soul like a tight, wet, cunt.

"Oh!" he moaned into her mouth, "Oh God!" He hadn't expected this. He knew the legends, but he hadn't expected it from a kiss, and now, with his cock in Sarah's mouth and his throat being fucked by Marissa's tongue, he feared he might already be lost, drowning in a sweet sea of need.

The stakes! The stakes! He didn't dare reach over Marissa, so he pushed his hand down behind him, groveling between the cushions and searching for the smooth, hard wood of the stake, but all he found was Marissa's leather-clad hand already there, already holding the sharpened pole.

His blood ran cold.

Another train roared past, going the opposite way, the faces and windows a long meaningless smear of light, temporarily blinding and deafening. When the train passed, Marissa was holding the stake before his eyes.

"Really, Todor," she said. "I expected better from you. Ted Gregory? Do you really think we're so stupid?"

He searched frantically for a way out. Sarah had lifted her mouth from his prick and was looking at him curiously, obviously baffled.

"Sarah? Continue what you were doing," Marissa said. "I'd like to introduce you to Professor Doctor Todor Gyarmathy, vampire hunter, late of Krakow University and the University of Prague. I believe we were next on his list, weren't we, Doctor? A rather short list too, due to his efforts. He thinks he followed us onto this train to do away with us, Sarah. He doesn't know that he was lured here, that the hunter has become the prey. Well, I expect he knows now."

His pants were around his ankles and his cock in the maddening suction of the girl's mouth, but Ted tried to scramble up from the seat, only to be thrown back easily by Marissa's hand on his chest—that weirdly thrilling sensation of the vampire's inhuman strength, as if her muscles in her thin arms were made of steel cables. She might be sick, she might even be dying, but she was still dangerous. She threw the stake across the car, then reached down beside her and pulled out the other two.

"Real silver," she said approvingly. "I'm flattered."

She tossed them with the other and pressed him back into his seat with her one hand.

"I must say I'm surprised at you, Doctor. I had no idea you were so sexually vulnerable."

"You know who I am!"

"Of course I do, Todor. Do you think I'm one of those mindless mummies who sleep in a coffin all day? Do you think I can't read the papers and the penny press, that I don't know who my enemies are and where, and what they're doing?"

She removed her hand from his chest and sat back. " I heard about your fiancée, Professor, and I extend my most sincere condolences. You must have loved her very much. You know we had nothing to do with it, don't you? We don't work that way. Cancer, was it?"

The thought of virginal Magda shamed him—if she could see him now, what would she think? "Leukemia," he said. "But I'll thank you not to pollute her name by speaking it."

"My sympathy is genuine, Professor. I'm not yet without feelings. I remember what it is to lose someone."

Her sincerity shamed him again, and he looked away.

"You're a young and vigorous man, Professor," she said. "You must feel her loss deeply. Perhaps that's why you've become so careless, or foolish. Death doesn't seem to frighten you as much, does it? I daresay it even has some attraction for you. Is that why you invited us back to your car at night? A little roll in the hay with death?"

"You're not dead," he said. "You're worse than that."

The train roared by a trackside switch house, the white light from outside sweeping across the compartment, lighting up Sarah as she knelt between his legs and began sucking him again, losing interest in what was happening above her.

Easy, bitch," Marissa said to Sarah, slapping her lightly with the crop. "Just keep him idling." Then, turning again to Ted, she said, "I warn you, she can make you feel so good you'll snap your spine in pleasure, or she can bite it off at the root if I tell her to."

Satisfied, she sat back. "Worse than dead, am I?" She reached out and ran her hand over his chest, and he was forced to look into her eyes, deep and predatory. "And yet you came here looking to get fucked, knowing what we were. You wanted to fuck the vampires. That's playing with fire, isn't it, Todor? Rather dangerous? Just what is it you were looking for? Just a quick piece of ass?"

He groaned as Sarah took him deep, moaning in her throat as her head worked slowly over him.

Marissa stared down her nose at the girl. "Look at her. She comes from a good family, but she's so stupid she doesn't even know what she has. She wants to be like me, wants me to make her of my kind. And look how much pleasure she gets from this. How much pleasure you both get from this. The little cunt has no idea how lucky she is, how lucky you both are."

Todor groaned again. "What are you going to do to me?"

Marissa got up on her knees and faced him. She unbuttoned his shirt and threw it open, watching his eyes for his reaction.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not tonight. Maybe never. That's not what I want. I've been watching you for years, Todor, watching you as you hunted down and killed my kind. I've been watching you and wanting you."

Her hand brushed against the gold crucifix and she smiled. "A little hypocritical, aren't we Ted? Or have you suddenly gotten religion?"

She closed her fist on the cross and ripped it easily from around his neck, threw it across the car and went back to rubbing her hand over the thick muscles of his chest as Sarah's warm, wet mouth continued to slide up and down his pole.

Marissa watched her for a while, admiring her slave's skill and the effect it had on him. She seemed to draw strength from the two humans' sexual pleasure, vicariously feeding on it, her excitement tinged with bitter envy

"Admit it," she said. "You must feel the same attraction for me, don't you, Todor? We're predator and prey you and I, locked in this together. But who's whom tonight? Can you tell me that?"

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"What indeed?" she whispered. She breathed into his ear and the heat of her breath gave him chills. Her tongue came out and she licked him like a cat. "I don't want your blood tonight, Todor, though I'm sure it's delicious, rich and full of strength. I'm no longer interested in blood."

Her tongue dipped into his ear and he felt her shuddering breath. The even edges of her white teeth pressed teasingly into his ear lobe then released him. "I want your come. I want to feel your human cock inside me and the gush of your hot seed. I want you to fuck me."

He drew back instinctively, but something leaped inside him. The face that loomed above him was more beautiful than any face he had ever seen, and the fear he felt was overwhelmed by something dark and eager that rose from within.

She caressed his face with her gloved hand, examining him, then used her thumb to gently smooth his eyebrow like a concerned wife. She looked into his eyes—deep, deeper, deeper than anyone had ever gone, down into a place where he himself never went, and whatever it was she saw there seemed to please her.

She pulled back, satisfied. She held his eyes and whispered down to Sarah. "Suck him good now, bitch. Get him nice and hard for me!"

Sarah plunged back down on his cock and Ted groaned, his hips automatically thrusting up, reaching his prick back into her throat. Marissa threw her cape over her shoulders and pushed her hair back from her face, lowered her head and kissed him. She put one arm around his shoulders and slid the other hand inside his shirt to caress his nipples, and stifled his moaning with her lips, sucking him, nipping him, feeding on his hot breath.

"Yes," she murmured into his slack mouth. "Yes, that's what I want. Your passion, your desire. You don't know what it's like for us, do you? You think it's like in your books and the stories you hear, where we go where we will, fucking and sucking the blood of whomever we want. Well it's not like that for us, Todor. It's not like that at all.

"We live like rats, scurrying in the gutters, seeking out the weak, the old, the mentally imbalanced. When we fuck, we fuck a half-dead victim whose cock is limp and flaccid, whose life-force is all but spent. We fuck our food after we've eaten it, after it's garbage. Do you think that excites us? Do you think that gives us pleasure?"