tagHumor & SatireNot Lucy Westenra's Kind Of Problem

Not Lucy Westenra's Kind Of Problem


Author's Note: This story was written for Databastard's November 2006 Unconventional Story contest, and is also posted at the EMCSA. This story is unusual for me for a couple reasons. First of all, the sex style is different from any I've written before (you'll see). Second, I've never done a cut-away before; my denouement has always been immediately following the action. Finally, the biggest difference is a new story type; I've never done a Vampire story before. This story is fiction in every way and also mine in every way; author's permission required for reproduction of this material. I hope you enjoy, and please e-mail me with any comments, questions, complains, or suggestions.

Lucy Westenra Never Had These Kinds of Problems

*Mmmm...I slide off my chair and over to my bed, where he's waiting. We're still talking, but it won't be long now. I toss my glasses lightly aside. I can see in the tilt of his neck, the set of his jaw, that he has intentions for tonight. So do I.

I perch down next to him delicately, massively aware of my own weight and his heat. It radiates off of his knee, his thigh, his hip, his side, and ripples through me; an invasion of waves.

His hand, yes, his hand slides backward. It's behind me, it's coming closer. His five perfect fingers make five perfect indents in the blue bedspread. Behind me, oh! His voice, it cuts through my straining and I have to answer, I have to say something. I didn't hear the question, but I have to answer, right?

I don't have to answer. I look at him. I tilt my head, just a little. Just the right way. I look out from under my eyelashes in just the right way, with just the right spark in my irises, burning blue across our distance. Our distance, which is rapidly closing. Soft silence, this kind of glaring silence, is anything but awkward. It means a kiss. It means soft lips meeting for the first time.

His lips have some give, but the intention behind them is firm; they press. They want me. A sigh slows through my body, from my chest to my mouth. We press as tight as we can, up to inside one another but of course I'm not going to go too far because this is our first time and I don't want to seem like a whore.

My arms find their way around his neck and his find their way around my back. One of them cradles my head and neck, tenderly. We haven't talked about this yet, but the talk can wait. Every kiss breaks a boundary, leaves less between us to explain. The force of his passion signifies that he really likes me...or at least thinks I'm incredibly hot. I can live with either scenario.

My head sneaks down, below his ear. I lick the skin, tender licks, finding the sensitive spots. He moans; I stop. What if someone heard?

"You're gorgeous, Melinda. Let's date."

I smile and nod. I press in, I run my hands through his hair. I grab his shoulders and pull, just a little. It drives men wild, and he's no exception. It makes them want more. I want more, I want to give more. I want to take more. I change.

He doesn't notice, at first, that my hair has turned to silky obsidian under his hands. With all four closed, how could he see, at first, that my eyes had turned to carmine? No. The only thing he knew, at first, was my teeth; he felt those. He felt two grow, he felt them sharpen.

Our kiss entered a hard pulse and we pressed together; he cut himself on me. I tasted blood. He pulled back. I pressed forward, hand ready to cover up his gasp. How else could he react to a visage so changed?

I'm the stronger one, now. One fingernail scrapes the lightly drying splotch on his neck. I hiss, I leap, I sink my teeth into it. The heavy, heady blood flows into—*

Fuck. Why does this always happen when I'm trying to work? I can't get anything done because I'm thinking about getting action, and I can't get action because I have to do work.

Fuck. Why do I keep deluding myself? The reason I don't get action is because nobody likes me. I'm alone and it's not a huge campus but I don't know anyone who hosts parties. I'm afraid to go out alone and there's no one to go with because nobody likes me. Thus, I get no action. Thus, no blood. Thus, less concentration. Thus, less work. Thus, no going out. Plus, I look all pale and that probably leads into a, "thus, no one likes me" right there.

Let's face it; I'm a smallish, mousy girl with no prospects and no life. And, uh, that last one is literal. I'm un-fucking-dead and proud of it. Of course, it means that I *need* human contact. For, you know, blood.

"Vampires have a Night Life," my barely-existent ass. It's 2 am on a Saturday night and I'm doing homework. Three, two, one.

"Heyyyy, duuuude! Fwaa-"

"F-what? It's, it's, the greatest album ever!"

"Man, it's...I don't know what but--"

Yup, there they are; the Saturday night drunks. Two-twenty-three, right on schedule. God, I'm so hungry...you know, they might not even notice. Not just a pint or two...I just want to sink my teeth into those juicy necks, into those smooth necks, that little spot right underneath the hair, and that other spot where the bare skin disappears under the shirt and you know there's this whole expanse leading down, down, to...And then, just to suck! To drink, and suck, and slurp and glurp and laugh through the blood, blow blood bubbles like little kids blow in their milk with a straw. Oh, the push and pull of the heart against my teeth, against the back of my throat when I get an artery. The pushing, the pulsing, chugging and slurping, drinking and sucking and...

OK, I admit, I've got a bit of an oral fixation. It kind of comes with the territory, if you know what I mean. But shit, who's ever heard of a virgin vampire? We're supposed to be the temptresses, the guest stars, the ladies of the night! I'm not *supposed* to be this dinky little virgin who's never had anything stronger than blood to drink and jonesing for it. I should at *least* have big tits or something, *some* redeeming feature that makes me the hot heroine in the end.

"But duuuude, vin-vin-vinyl is *much* better than CD, s'like because-"

OK, that's it. I am *outta* here. I'm horny and I'm hungry and this night and those drunks are mine for the taking. I *will* have them.

I change; hair to black, eyes to red, teeth to long, nails to sharp. I peel back the bug screen on my window like a third grader pulls dried glue off the back of her hand.

I leaped from the third floor like a maniac. Well, anyone else who tried it would be a maniac. I can glide a little.

"Hello, boys."

I landed a few feet in front of them on the path with a thunk and planted my arms on my hips. Damn, now I look like Peter Pan. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Woah, where did you, like, come from?"

"The dorm." I motioned sideways and up with my head.

One or two of the guys looked up.

"Holy fuckin' shit, man! Did you do that?"


"Uh." *Now* people like me? Damn it! I don't think I could harvest from a friend in good conscience. But maybe there was still a way. Hunger made me wily. "Uh, boys! For this awesome act that I have preformed, I demand payment. From you."

"Payment? Huh?"

"How much?"

"No way, we're not paying her, she probably ran around, what the fuck are we-"

"No, what?"

I shouted above the confusion. "A pint of blood!"

"B-blood?" One guy in a school-spirit hoodie and hiking boots almost keeled over laughing.

"Yes. A pint from each of you."

"Uh. Huh. Huh huh," he chortled, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes and missing, "how're you gonna collect?"

"Like...*this*," I shouted, springing at him. My teeth hit neck, soft, succulent neck and felt the warm skin, brushed his cheek with mine...I broke the skin and tasted AB negative. *Damn* was that stuff *gooood*. Oh god, I'd been so *hungry* and here was a boy-banquet, a—I shouldn't kill him, right? Not gonna kill, uh, him. Right?

Yeah. On to his goggle-eyed friends. Oh, oh, there's one wearing a G-, G- what's the word? Green! Green shirt. Matches his eyes, mmmm...O positive! Hrm, not quite as specialized. Bland, but goooood still. Hunger makes the best sauce or varnish or whatever. Whoopsie, maybe a little more than a pint there, but what's a drop or two among friends?

Hey, there's another guy! He's kinda cuuuuute, too, all blonde and shit. I lunged for him. I missed! How did I miss? Hee, caught him this time! Hee hee hee, he's no match for meeee! I've got speeeed! Whoosh! Yummy yummy waarrrrrm blood. We're spinning around while I've got my teeth sunk in his neck, he was having trouble standing to begin with and "*Hic*" I think, I think I am too. A lil bit.

"Dude, the vamp-girl is *drunk*"

"D-drunk? *Hic* How? I haven't had *any*, ever!"

Hoodie guy slapped green-shirt guy across the back. "Blood alcohol!" he shouted.

"Shhh!" said blondie guy putting his hand over his mouth. "Do you wan' sec-security to hear?"

"I-I feel kinda dizzy," I said. The world went suddenly dark; I must have changed back. I don't have crazy night-vision when I'm not in Vampire form.

"Well, you're kinda drunk," said green-shirt guy. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

"I've never, never drunk before," I told him.

"I can kinda tell," he said. "Hey, I'm Jasper, by the way."

"Melinda," I said. "A regular M name."

"That's Ryan," said Jasper, pointing to hoodie guy. "And that drunk-ass punk over there, is Boyd." Blondie-Boyd took this opportunity to throw up. It was white, it was gross.


Jasper guided me around the puddle of upchuck. "So you're a real vampire, is that right?"

"Uh huh." I nodded.

"Well, we were heading to a party. Wanna come?"

"OK!" Awesome! Who knew guys asked you out when you attacked them? If I had known, I would have gone on the prowl *much* sooner. Eh, maybe Jasper is just a masochist. Or I'm prolly reading the signs wrong. I'm show and tell, prolly. Oh well, I'll go to a dance at a dorm. I'll drink more! Maybe even some beer, too. And I swear, I swear by my ratted jeans, they *will* come off tonight. Tonight, the vampire loses her virginity! Wheee!

The guys crowded around me as we walked down the path, asking questions about the night life, how it all started, stuff like that. The standard stuff. I didn't have the heart to tell them it wasn't all capes and capers, so I might have embellished a wee bit. We made a turn-off, but I was talking about my first blood so I couldn't say anything. We made another, but Boyd was talking about *Buffy The Vampire Slayer* so I couldn't say anything.

My first opportunity was when we arrived. It was just a little house with a big screened-in porch. It wasn't a dorm at all! This was a, a party of people who already knew each other!

They were pushing me up the steps and onto the porch and I had to get out, fast! Who knew what awaited me in that dungeon of people that already knew each other? I run faster changed, so I changed my colors, my spots, my stripes, my species, whatever.

Ten horrified gasps met my transformation. Shit! They, they were smokers. Smokers out on the porch, not in the house.

"Hey guys, we found a vampire!" said Boyd.

Someone choked. There was a brief pause.

"So. Uh. Anyone have some blood they're not using?"

Wait, these are the kids that the Red Cross rejected because they smoke, right? So should I really be--

"Mmph!" Someone shoved their neck into my mouth. OK. I'll take what's offered. Sluuuuurp, suck, a little lick to close the wound...

Heep. I feel dizzier...

For the next half hour, I absolutely *gorged* myself. The half hour after that was spent throwing up in the bathroom. I should have taken it soooo much easier the first time. Speaking of first times...my goal for the evening.

Brandon was pretty cute, as was Boyd. Vampires are supposed to ravage blonde's, right?

I don't know...maybe I shouldn't "zero to sixty" it; I've never even *kissed* a boy, should I really be having, you know, *sex* with one?

I don't want to be thinking about this right now. I sunk my teeth deep into Darla, the closest drunk within reach.

There! Now, now I'm ummmm, whoo! Dizzy, spinning room! Spinning, like little spirals...hey, hypnosis!

"What's up, Vamp girl?" asked Jasper.

"I'm gonna hypnotize someone wi'h my eyes!"

"I think it's time to take you home, Vamp girl. You've had a bit too much." He patted me on the shoulder. I nearly fell. OK, I tipped over.

Ryan caught me. "I'll help you get there."

Ryan and Jasper both caught me by an elbow and guided me through the door. We started walking the dark, forested paths back to my dorm. It was so late it was early; there was not another soul stirring.

"Time, time to hypnotize you guys!"

They traded significant looks over my head. Now that I thought about it, Jasper's hand had been on my ass for the past quarter mile. This wouldn't be so hard. I grabbed Ryan's chin and turned his head so his eyes looked deeply into mine.

"You're in no state to hypnotize *anybody*" said Ryan, taking his head back.

"Waaa! It's not fair!" I screeched, sat down, and started sobbing.

"Oh, now, what's not fair?" asked Jasper. He knelt down beside me.

"Mina Harker and *especially* Lu-Lu-Lucy Wes-Westenra never had these kinds of problems! One little bite, one little *touch* with vampires and four men, *four* are lining up to give her transfusions. Little blond girl in a white dress, oh, I understand! All the men gather around *her*, want to give from themselves to *her*." I buried my face in my hands. One fang nicked my palm; shit.

"That's what you want, is it?" asked Jasper.

"A transfusion?" chimed in Ryan.

I nodded.

"Well, you know," said Jasper, suddenly sounding dead sober, "when *Dracula* was written, blood and semen were considered to be basically the same thing."

"Oh, we'll give you a *transfusion* all right." I heard the sound of two zippers being pulled down.

"Wha-?" I sniffed.

Four hands, rough hand, pulled me up...to all fours.

"What are you do-ugh!" I tried to look around, but my bangs got in my eyes, which started to water.

I felt a mass of flesh pushed past my lips. How dare he, that little ass, I'd show *him* who was boss! I-

"And no biting, Vampy. The only kind of sucking you're gonna do is the regular kind."

I didn't flinch an inch.

"Or," he continued, "I snap your neck." Ryan laid his meaty, sweaty palms on my neck. I retracted, mind and body. How could I stand against him? My hair went back to mousy brown, my eyes dropped their cranberry glaze, my teeth shrunk to mere pearls; helpless. Dammit! Now I really couldn't see; Vampire form has the added bonus of fixing my eyes, but human, I'm a nearsighted mole.

I became aware of my other end; my faded jeans sliding off of someone else's accord; Jasper's accord. He was more tender, as far as I could tell before Ryan's prick started intermittently cutting off my air and I was forced to start sucking and licking before he either choked me or broke my neck.

Jasper slid his dick up and down my slit a few times, and then pushed it in, oh hell! I saw flashes of red and white dots along the side of my vision because something just broke down there and there are little stones from the path and leaves and thorny twigs sticking to my hands and my knees and I can't tell but I must be bleeding because he's sliding a little easier and it's taking inhumane effort to keep from going to teeth.

"Do something, bitch!" Ryan tapped me on the back of the head, hard. Fucker. I caved in my cheeks and sucked, just a little. He moaned. No, no, I couldn't do this. I wouldn't give pleasure to my tormentor, and then, wait, was that heat from my cunt? Yeah, Jasper is definitely sliding easier and it still smarts like heck but I'm getting little twinges, like maybe that thing was supposed to be down there, in there, parting my tender flesh. I gave Ryan a little lick and took him in a little further. He moaned again and stopped jackhammering himself in and out of my mouth so hard. So the boy wanted to be pleased, could I blame him? Oooh, that feels nice, Jasper! I'm feeling some heat, some friction. Maybe, maybe you should keep going, OK?

Jasper seemed to sense the change in my attitude; maybe I changed my angle a bit to give him better access, I take no responsibility, but he started pumping harder, which was pushing me further and further onto Ryan, who was becoming incapacitated with pleasure. At least, that's what I had to assume it was, what with all the moaning and swearing. His hands slipped to my cheeks, and he felt himself slide in and out of my mouth to Jasper's rhythm.

Jasper was grunting and moaning and panting and I felt a white heat growing, but in my pussy this time instead of behind my eyes, it was *good*, it was *happening*, it was--

"Oh, oh man, I'm, I'm--" Ryan shoved himself down my throat, thrust his balls up to my chin as he came. I took it all down; I had no choice, he'd snap my neck if I didn't, I mean, I didn't want to di---Idiot. Dummy. Dim-wit, fucktard! I'm a *Vampire*. He can't *kill* me by snapping my neck. Only a stake can do *that*, shit, how *stupid* was I to forget? Ryan stepped back a short distance and zipped himself up, panting. Oh well, it would have hurt like a motherfucker for a long time, and that's worth being cautious about, right? Oh holy upchuck, I feel sick! Sick, and used, and filthy, and gross.

Tears came to my eyes as I retched up Ryan's filthy cum, first from wretchedness, and then from anger. How fucking *dare* he threaten me, rape me, have his little *way* with me? Me! I changed into my rightful form, my beautiful form: ebony and crimson and ivory and rage. The pebbles impressed into my palms fell off in a crunching rain as I grabbed his ankle and sliced his legs out from underneath him. Jasper could only pull back and watch in horror as I crawled up over the sprawled body of his compatriot and drank him dry, pulling the blood from his jugular long after the heart stopped making it pulse. Dry and dead. My first murder. Ma would be *so* proud.

I rose and wiped the dirt and rocks from my knees. I licked a drop of blood off my right fang. Jasper's eyes were watching intently.

"You're wondering if I'm going to kill you."

Mutely, he nodded.

"You *did* rape me...but you weren't bad. You subjugated me, but you didn't suck. *That*," I said wryly, "is *my* job." I knelt by his side.

*Two Weeks Later...*

"Oh Jaaaasper!" I heard his footsteps approach from the back of the room. "Shoulder massage, will you?"

"Yes Mistress," he effused. He almost sang; he loved saying those words. And *he'd* been the one trying to stop me trying to hypnotize him! The irony made me sigh with pleasure; sometimes it even made my nipples hard.

"Oh, and Slave?" He got hard when I said that; I grinned. That was a nice touch on my part, if I do say so myself. "When you've finished that, do my homework."

He bowed as his fingers started their work.

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