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Message-ID: <33256asstr$1004947805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "caring empath:)" <empath69@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Same Clan, Different Vintage" [Dancer] (MF caution)
Date: Mon,  5 Nov 2001 03:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Editor's Note: And now the threads come together; "Man Next Door"
meets "Reservations" & "Razor's Edge".  If you don't know what
I'm talking about, go read those stories first - it'll be worth
it.  Oh, and I gave "caution" for surprise effect as much as
warning - there's some potential 'squicks', but a full list
appears at the start of the attachment if you're worried.

I tried to get this whole series out in time for Halloween, but
life happens; it's close enough...

Anyway: 18 or younger; scram. People easily upset; read at your
own risk & we disclaim any responsiblity for any that happens if
you do.:) Everyone else; enjoy privately (Bern Convention on
copyrights applies)

Email opinions/kudos/criticism to <Empath69@hotmail.com>


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<1st attachment, "SameClan.txt" begin>


Same Clan, Different Vintage (FF, MF, Fdom, oral, reluc, magic,
anal, voy, viol, span, humor, rom)

Dancer 2001 (c)


The sun had set entirely an hour ago, making the darkness
prevalent as my new husband, Nathaniel, helped me out of the
taxi. I waited for him on the sidewalk while he paid the driver,
then stepped onto the brief slice of lawn between me and the
curb. "Why are we here?" I asked as he took my hand in his.

"To visit an old friend of mine," he answered with a quick grin.

I frowned. "How old is old?"

He led me up a short, bricked walkway toward the front door of a
Victorian-style house. "To be honest, I don't rightly know his
age. I can say that Slade is at least two centuries older than
me."

"Well then, I guess my next question is: is Slade a man or a
woman?"

"Oh, Slade is all man, trust me," Nathaniel replied as we went
onto the one step stoop. He reached out and beat his knuckles on
the wooden door several times. I wiggled a finger in each ear, my
newly acquired vampire hearing increasing the volume of every
sound to a deafening pitch. Something came to me and I cocked my
head to the right, listening. It came again, a low groan of
sexual satisfaction and I looked over at Nathaniel. He rolled his
eyes at my raised brows and clucked his tongue, saying, "Stop
eavesdropping, Olivia. It isn't polite."

"I'm trying," I muttered and covered my hand over my ears. "But
it isn't working." To me, it sounded as if the groans were
getting progressively louder and higher-pitched. I could almost
picture the scene in my mind's eye of a beautifully naked woman
being fucked from behind by this absolutely gorgeous, slender
man. The man whispered something I couldn't hear to the woman,
but I felt her powerful orgasm rock through my own body as she
climaxed. I gasped at the sensations, of feeling what she was
feeling, and the man looked over to one side of the room they
were in. His eyes were bright with an unknown fever and I yelped
when I felt his lust-ridden mind touch with mine. An image
flashed between us. I mentally saw Nathaniel fucking this strange
woman, his cock buried deep inside her ass, while I was chained
to an unkempt bed and forced to watch. "Nate!" I cried and threw
myself hard against his side.

He wrapped his arms around me in a protective hug. "What did I
tell you about listening in to other people's conversations? Be
happy Slade didn't strip you of all coherent thought while he was
inside your head." I glanced up into his face to ask how but he
cut me off. "Slade's very powerful, one of the oldest of our kind
and he doesn't take kindly to nosy Nellies invading his privacy."
His eyes hooded as he trailed his palms down my back to fondle my
rear, pressing his arousal into my belly. "The idea has merit, I
must say, having you watch me fuck someone else," he murmured.

Before I could give him the what-for, the door opened behind me
and a mesmerizing, masculine voice entoned, "Hmm, to whom do I
owe this pleasure?" I turned my head to peer over one shoulder.
The man looked like he'd stepped off the cover of a romance
novel. His tawny hair was finger-tousled, his kissable mouth
swollen from love bites and the pants he wore were barely
clinging to his narrow hips. He walked up directly behind me,
placing his hands on my shoulders and smelling the scent of my
hair. "Is she for me, Nathaniel?"

"No, Slade, Olivia's my wife," Nate replied.

"Pity," Slade said, sounding miffed. "Sadly, I would have refused
this...extremely, lovely offer now that I have my Grace to amuse
me. Come, my friend, and your tempting Olivia, meet my captive
storyteller." Slade backed away from me, allowing Nate and I to
follow him inside the house. He led us to the main salon, just
off to the right of the main entrance, and to a closed door at
the rear of the room. I stayed as close to my husband as
physically possible, holding his right hand in a death grip while
Slade opened the door and bid us to supersede him.

We went down a flight of twelve stairs to what I decided was the
basement and emerged in a well-lit, spacious chamber. A roaring
fire blazed in the fireplace and a rumpled, large bed stood to
the left of that. The woman I saw earlier lay prone on top of the
sheets and wore nothing but her hair to hide her nudity. Her
eyelids fluttered open as we drew nearer to the bed, then shot
wide open when she mistakenly recognized Nate. "Oh my God! Keanu
Reeves is a vampire!" she shouted loudly and quickly grabbed a
corner of a sheet to cover herself.

Nathaniel looked at the floor in embarrassment and I chuckled.
"He's not Keanu," I informed her. "Believe me. I know." My vagina
tensed suddenly, my teeth lengthened into fangs and I understood.
"You're human," I stuttered and curled my face into my husband's
embrace. The amplification of my sex drive drove me over the
brink and I tore away from Nate, rushing toward the naked woman
on the bed. Neither man stopped me in time. I ripped the sheet
from her tenuous grasp, forced her knees apart and dove my hungry
mouth to her pussy. Jamming my tongue deep inside her slick heat,
I used the muscle to fuck while I sucked thirstily on her
lubricating fluids. I expected her to put up a fight but instead,
she choked back a scream and threaded her fingers into my hair.
She held my head tightly to her crotch, bucking her pelvis
against my jaw in ecstatic abandonment.

Her pounding heartbeat echoed in my brain. My hands fell away
from her knees when she widened them and I took the opportune
moment to thrust most of one hand up her sopping slit. My fingers
took over the job my tongue had been doing, wriggling inside her
vagina and fucking her to near orgasm. The smell of her cunny
juices made me insane! I wanted her to come for me...and come and
come and come until she was a mass of quivering flesh. My eyes
were shut as I ate this stranger out but Nathaniel sent me a
mental picture of what was happening around me.

Through his eyes, I could see the blush across her cheeks and how
her mouth was locked in mid-shriek. A hand left my hair and
reached out to Nathaniel as she whispered,  "Please, oh Jesus!"
He approached the bed, lay beside us and bent his dark head to
the woman's right breast. Just as he flicked his tongue along the
creamy slope, I reared up, grabbed his jacket and flung him off
the bed. I glared angrily at him with teeth bared and my cheeks
dripping with cum. He crouched facing me, growling with menace at
my violent behavior.

"Children," Slade commanded. He stepped between Nathaniel and me,
swirling a fluted glass of wine in his left hand. Quick as a
wink, he snagged me by the scruff of my neck and hauled me from
the woman's crotch, letting me kick my dangling feet in
frustration at his manhandling. "I did not invite you here to
abuse my hospitality," he purred, his tone threatening.
"Nathaniel, can you not control this bitch you wedded?"

My husband sighed and got to his feet, reining in his vampiric
nature. "Olivia is new to her powers," he explained to Slade. A
look passed between them.

"Ah, a recent convert," Slade responded and released his hold on
me. I attempted to escape but he touched my chin lightly and
willed me to stay put. He sipped his wine, then spoke to me in a
calm voice. "To find a virgin of a reasonable age in this century
is unusual. Perhaps had I been in Vancouver a year sooner, I,
too, would have taken a bride. But, that is neither here nor
there, is it, Olivia?"

"No," I squeaked out in a breathless whisper.

"Swear by your life to protect my privacy and I will grant you
the ability to keep at bay the ravenous impulse which festers
within your soul," he offered. I swallowed and agreed. He gazed
into my eyes and a vivid portrait exploded deep into my
conscience. It showed a younger Slade being tortured by red-robed
priests, unspeakable horrors performed by inhuman men on an
innocent vampire. They demanded he confess to blasphemous crimes
against the church and burned his flesh with white-hot irons when
he refused to speak. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the
inflicted pain, then a soothing voice called to me. It was a line
I remembered vaguely from Catholic Mass: What you do unto all of
my brothers, so you shall do unto me.

"God?" I hesitantly inquired, waiting for the bright, white light
to envelop my body.

The image disappeared and there was Slade, looking into my eyes.
"I said that, Olivia, not God. That phrase was all I would say to
the Inquisitionors. It didn't help, by the way. They still
tortured me to death. Or, what humans consider death anyway."

I pushed my hair behind my ears and inhaled a few deep breaths.
"I think it helped," I told him, peeking beneath my lashes at the
woman. I could still smell the heavy aroma of sex in the air but
my body remained silent and unchanging. "I don't feel what I felt
before."

"Thank you," Nathaniel said and squeezed his friend's left
shoulder. "It's been a trial teaching Olivia how to curb herself
over the past months. I owe you for doing this."

Slade cocked his head toward Nate and replied, "Really? I have an
idea..." He raised a dark eyebrow at the woman, his mouth curved
in the hint of a smile.

She planted her hands on her hips. "Slade!"

"Grace!" He strolled over to the bed and seated himself next to
her, dragging her onto his lap. She laughed as she wrapped her
arms around his neck and let him kiss her leisurely. He lifted
his lips from hers, asking, "Will you tell my friends and I a
tale to amuse and excite?"

She glanced at Nate and me over a shoulder with a glint in her
eyes, saying, "Gather around, kids. Let me see what I
can...cum...up with this time."

=======

The House of the Rising Sun catered to an exclusive, elite
clientele of high-powered attorneys, wealthy entrepentuers and
European aristocracy. The owner of this brothel owed a certain
Prince of Kriegstan an exorbinate amount of monies for a loan to
start this House. Time on Madame Joanne's loan contract was up
today and Prince Deitre's royal collector arrived to receive the
payment due to his employer. Madame Joanne welcomed the man with
a heavy heart. "Armand, I do not have the funds to repay the
Prince at this time," she informed her guest. "My newest lady
demands a high price for her living expenses and I have not yet
recouped this money."

"The contract you signed states you must pay today or forfit all
you have acquired and return home to Kriegstan," Armand
reiterated the terms.

Madame Joanne sighed unhappily. "If I must return, I ask only for
my brother, the Prince, to escort me home." Armand simply nodded
to the prodigal princess and left the House, ordering the
limosine's chauffuer to drive back to the Prince's lodgings. Once
arrived, Armand spoke with Prince Dietre of his sister's wish of
his escort and the future King agreed to this.

Two hours later, Dietre entered the Rising Sun with an air of
authority. He was greeted not by Joanne, but by an underling who
led him to a tiny room on the second floor. This employee opened
a closed door and told his highness to wait inside for the
mistress. Mistress; to the people at the House it means a
dominatrix, to the Prince it means another title of address to
the woman of the house. Dietre shut the door behind him and
prowled around the room, picking up an item here and there to
examine it. A sturdy table stood beside the single person bed
with a velvet-lined box on its varnished top and within that box
was a silver ring.

The ring was too large to be worn on a finger and too small to be
a bracelet. He held it up toward the ceiling light between thumb
and finger, studying for how it might open. A scraping noise
caused the Prince to turn. The door opened and a young woman of
medium height entered. He looked over her choice of dress:
dangerously high-heeled, blue shoes, fishnet stockings attached
to a blue garter belt, a matching half-brassiere which bared her
nipples and elbow-length, blue satin gloves with pearl buttons.
She wore a mask to conceal the area around her emerald green eyes
and tapped a riding crop against an open palm as she said, "I see
you found your wardrobe."

"Wardrobe?" Dietre parroted in reply.

The woman approached him and rubbed the tip of the crop along the
front of his trousers. "Yes," she purred softly. "Now remove
those hideous clothes. I will forgive this mistake -once- and
never again. Whenever you are in my sight and my rooms, you will
be naked save for the ring around your cock. Understand?" He
began to smile at her strangeness, then she jabbed the hard
leathery end of the crop under his chin. "I asked, do you
understand."

"Perfectly," he answered calmly.

"Then do it," she ordered harshly, frowning and forcing his chin
high with her weapon. "And quickly, or taste the sting of a good
flogging." Dietre replaced the cock ring in its box and started
lazily to undress, unafraid that this woman would strike him. He
removed his suit jacket gracefully and laid it upon the mattress
neatly. With his eyes locked onto the woman's face, he unhooked
his cuff links, placed the gold jewelery on the table and slowly
freed his crisp white shirt from the waistband of his trousers.
The squared flap of her crop stroked down his throat to his
knotted necktie and she flipped the loose tails over his right
shoulder, then trailed her crop along the buttoned placket of his
shirt. He unknotted his tie and allowed it to dangle across his
pectorals as he worked his fingers on the buttons. "My, my, my,"
she said to Dietre in a quiet voice. "You are an uppity slave,
aren't you? I suppose you make your lover come twice before
letting her see your cock."

He tilted his head slightly and replied, "Perhaps."

She ran her flogger just underneath the hem of his shirt, teasing
the bared skin of his muscled abdomen with the tip. She leaned in
close to his body and whispered, "Men are like dogs. Both species
must be punished at the exact moment they misbehave or never
comprehend the reason why." On that end, she ripped open his
shirt and shoved the garment roughly down his arms, pinning the
limbs with the material. As Dietre made to protest, the woman
grabbed the top of his pants and dragged them down his
sparsely-haired thighs to stop at his knees. Suddenly, she
whipped him around and pushed him face down onto the small bed.
The breath was knocked out of his lungs on impact. Then she sat
down straddling the small of his back and raised her riding crop
high, striking his newly exposed bottom. A bright, crimson welt
appeared across each cheek and she bounced away from him,
settling back down with her almost naked bosom pressing firmly
into his back. Her hot breath warmed his left ear as she snagged
the short nape hairs along his neck. "That was just a warm-up,
honey."

"Bitch," he growled low in his throat. "I am royalty! I am-"

"Shut the fuck up," she bellowed. "I don't give a shit about who
you are in the real world. In this House, in my rooms, -I- am in
charge and you WILL obey my every command without question." He
felt her weight disappear off his back and sucked in much needed
air, then gave a strangled cry as she brought the riding tool
once more across his naked buttocks. "It's just like the saying
goes, 'your Highness'," she purred in contempt. "The beatings
will continue until morale improves." Another hard blow struck
his rear and Dietre had had enough. He rolled over to take the
flogger from his sexy abuser and made to grab it when she touched
it to his cock. The tip was warm from hitting him as she ran the
end along the length of his throbbing, engorged shaft. "Mmmm,
much better," she informed him and stepped closer, cupping the
erect flesh with her left palm.

The Prince stared in shock at his member, longer than he'd ever
seen and so filled with blood it looked purple. Not even with his
first woman had his cock felt so painfully aroused and ready to
explode. He bit back a moan of pleasure as the smooth satin of
her gloved hand encircled the base and gradually pumped his
massive prick. He shrugged out of his torn shirt and kicked at
his pants in haste to remove them. Her mouth curled up in a
cat-like smile as Dietre hurriedly stripped away the remains of
his clothing, with her stroking his cock all the while. Lightly
pinching his glistening glans, she urged him to stand and to call
her by the proper address. "Of course...Mistress," he answered,
looking down into her upturned face.

Pulling downward on his spongy tip, she ordered, "Kneel with your
hands behind your back." He complied to her command grudgingly
and mentally wished the tables were turned so she knelt before
him, as was right. She strolled around his bent body to his back
and rubbed the tip of her right boot along the cleft separating
the globes of his derriere. "The welts are already fading to a
healthy blush." A gloved hand cupped his jaw and tipped his head
back to look at her. "Thank your mistress, slave," she told him.

He clenched his teeth together and pressed his lips in a tight
line, fighting with himself and losing the internal battle.
"Thank you, Mistress," he murmured quietly.

She stroked his throat, saying, "Very good. Now get out of my
sight." She thrust him to the floor and watched him maneuver onto
his hands and knees, then she gave him a light kick to roll him
on his back. She stepped one high heel against his sternum and
bent over, teasing her crop along the sensative underside of his
scrotum as she roughly ordered, "I will expect you this time
tomorrow, 'your Highness', and don't masturbate when you get
home. I want your balls so bloated with semen that you'll orgasm
the moment I touch you with my flogger." She quit the room,
leaving him to decide which of them would triumph in the battle
of wills.

=======

"Man, I am -so- horny," I stated baldly and dragged Nathaniel's
hands around my waist to my aching breasts. He scooted closer
against my back, nuzzling my neck while his fingers discovered my
nipples poking out under my shirt. The four of us sat on the bed
while Grace told her story. She and Slade were nude while Nate
and I remained partially clothed. The two of us had taken off our
shoes and socks and Nate had tugged off his T-shirt sometime
during Grace's tale. At first, I thought Grace was completely at
ease with her nudity but when I inspected the room better, I
found nothing feminine. I remember casting a sidelong glance in
her direction and noticed her looking everywhere but at me and my
husband and cloaking her breasts and groin with her arms.

"Grace, why did you stop?" Nathaniel asked softly, slipping his
hands under my shirt.

"This butthead," she began and thumped Slade on the thigh with
her fist. "Keeps licking the nape of my neck and distractingme."

Slade grinned coyly and pushed Grace over onto her back, saying,
"It's nice to know I'm appreciated." He crawled on top of her and
started thrusting his pelvis against her furry mound. I could
plainly see his erection tenting the fly of his pants as he
stroked it along her heated core, getting the bulge thoroughly
soaked with her copious juices. "Maybe my Grace would prefer
Olivia to lick her again."

"I-I'd like to give Ke-Nathaniel a try," Grace stammered, then
peeked over at me. "Unless you would mind, Olivia?" Before I
could reply, Slade had freed his prick from his trousers and
drove the turgid penis fully into her pussy. Her upper body bowed
upward toward her lover and she managed to groan, "Nevermind,
Livvy."

"That's right, my pet. Forget about Nathaniel. You only need my
cock inside your sweet, clinging pussy," Slade muttered, his
voice echoing the tiniest fraction. I recognize the tone he used,
the same one Nate had tried on me when we first met. It was a
trilling of the vocal cords vampires used to lull our victims
into doing what we want them to do.

I whispered to Nate, "He's jealous of you."

"I know," he whispered back and pulled the hem of my shirt up my
belly. I raised my arms willingly as he removed the article and
tossed it onto the floor beside the bed. "Don't be shy or
Slade'll tease you about it."

"Well then, let's show him what we've got," I said, lowering the
straps of my bra down my upper arms while he unhooked the back
clasps. Nate took the flimsy garment from my hands and draped it
negligently across his friend's shoulders, both of us watching as
Grace found my bra and caressed Slade's back with it. We climbed
off the bed to take off our jeans. Slade noticed our departure
and smoothly rolled over, letting Grace have the superior
position. He dug his fingers into the rounded mounds and
controlled their fucking to a slow pace. I stared with
fascination as her tensing hole gripped his reddened shaft when
he lifted her up. "It's like watching a porn film," I said under
my breath, unable to look away from the action.

Grace rested her hands on Slade's broad shoulders, panting, "Feel
free to join in, guys." I looked at my husband and he only raised
one dark brow, leaving the choice up to me.

"Last one on the bed is a rotten egg!" I called to Nathaniel
playfully, beating him there by a split second. I crawled on my
knees to Slade's head and threw a leg over his face, my slit
inches from his mouth. "Hey, Slade, let me see if that silvery
tongue of yours can be put to a better use," I said and pressed
my gaping nether hole against his lips. Immediately, he jammed
his lingual muscle inside my vagina and swirled it around
rapidly. I wrapped my arms around Grace and leaned into her body
as her lover tongue-fucked my wet cunt.

She shuddered against me. I peeked into her flushed face,
wondering what caused her to orgasm so suddenly. Over her left
shoulder, I saw Nathaniel guiding his erection between her
asscheeks. "Oh-oh-oh, Livvy," Grace cried to me. "It hurts bad!"
She found my breasts with her hands and started tweaking the
plump tips between a thumb and finger. I returned the favor,
palming her slightly larger breasts and toying with her distended
nipples. "Yyesss," she hissed harshly and plucked harder at my
own throbbing nubbins to show me how she liked it. I twisted her
pointy nips and increased the pressure with which I held them,
listening to her mews of delight at the physical torment.

Our painful breast play had me grinding my hips firmly into
Slade's face. I whimpered to anyone listening how badly I wanted
to come and how very close I was to doing so. I felt Slade run
his hands over my bare bottom, kneading the taut globes as he ate
me out. He rubbed at the cream dribbling from my cunt with his
thumbs and lubricated the digits enough to slide them beyond my
brownie hole. Jerkily, I rolled Grace's nipples between my
fingers and let out a grumbling groan as my pussy clenched around
the muscle inside it. My tight rosebud tensed also, clinging to
the twin thumbs. My hands fell away from Grace as I collapsed
onto my right side in a heap of exhaustion, hearing at a distance
Slade sucking in fresh oxygen.

Grace dropped forward onto Slade and he massaged her sweaty back
with both hands. She darted her tongue out to his lips and licked
off my thick juices, unperturbed by the foreign odor. I gazed at
Nate as he continued to ream his cock in and out of Grace's
asshole, his quickening speed telling me he was near climax. He
gave an unintelligable shout, plunging deep in her colon and
spilling his seed. After he finished, he withdrew gently and
shakily came to me, embracing me in a loving hug. My body
recovered its strength and I helped Nathaniel off the bed, the
two of us holding onto one another as we shuffled to find the
bathroom.

We found the small room adjacent to the one we left and spent
several minutes cleaning up from the orgy. When we returned to
our host, they were huddled next to each other and I could hear
Grace sniffling as she talked. "So, I can't be turned because I'm
not a virgin?"

Slade traced the path of her tears with his thumbpads. "No," he
answered in a low voice. "Do you truly wish to be one of my
kind?"

She sighed and gave him a quavering smile. "Well, it would've
been nice to stay with you forever and always be young."

"Mmm, but look on the bright side, love. You'll have a virile,
young stud bedding you every day, no matter how old, ugly and
decrepit you turn out to be," he said with a wink that made her
chuckle.

"I can just picture it," she informed him. "I'll get cancer, be
cryogenically frozen and you can thaw me out whenever you want a
good fuck, then throw me back in the freezer when your done."

"Talk about a frigid wife," he punned. They shared a good laugh
at the play-on-words, then a sweet, tender kiss. He tangled his
fingers in her hair, pulling them through the silky mane
leisurely. "But I would lose the quality I enjoy most about you."
She gazed into his eyes with a look of inquiry. "The wonderful
way you tell such deliciously, naughty stories."

"Slade," she giggled and hugged him hard, finally seeing us.
"They're baaack."

Nathaniel said to his friend. "Sorry about listening in, but we
didn't want to interrupt. It's so rare to see you at looseends."

"Speaking of loose ends," I began as I walked toward the two
people reclining on the rumpled bed. "Prince Dietre had met his
match in a dominatrix."

Grace groaned playfully at the reminder. "Oh right. I suppose
none of you will sleep if I don't finish the story."

=======

Prince Dietre did not return to the House of the Rising Sun as
the Mistress commanded. Instead, he sent his faithful servant
Armand to go there, collect the Princess and meet him at his
Learjet. Princess Joanne arrived with Armand in tow, thus
Kriegstan's royal heirs flew back to their palace. Dietre often
thought about the mysterious woman who spanked him with a riding
crop and each time his cock would spring to life. He disliked
this power she held over him and vowed to erase her memory from
his mind by taking a bride.

The betrothal process was arduous as it should be with marriages
amongst royalty. He chose the daughter of the man who ruled a
neighboring duchy, a lady one decade younger than himself. The
Prince refused to meet with his new fiancee and therefore knew
nothing of the lady's pretty looks and gentle behavior. He wished
to marry immediately and the date was set; ten days after his
return home.

A ball and wedding feast were announced by the King and Queen and
all who received an invitation accepted enthusiastically. Gifts
poured into the palace by the hundreds. The loyal, Kriegstani
subjects laid thousands of fresh flowers at the iron front gates
of Dietre's personal estate to show their approval at his
decision to wed.

The eve of the grand ball and feast was upon them. Catering to
his betrothed's wish, the Prince ordered the guests to arrive at
the palace in costume and mask. It seemed everyone showed up at
one time and created havoc in the household, the servants rushing
about to fetch this or see to that. It was a madhouse with
well-wishers under foot no matter where Dietre went. So, he found
a nook nestled behind several rows of imported rubber plants and
settled himself comfortably inside. To his front was the
aforementioned foliage, to either side were fortified stone walls
and to his rear was a black velvet tapestry which hid a secret
entrance to the outer gardens. He untied the knot which held his
half-mask onto his face and slipped out of the woolen cloak,
tossing both objects to his booted feet. Clad in a pair of
skin-tight, fawn breeches, a billowy, snow white shirt and
expensive, kidskin gloves, he propped his left shoulder against
one wall and closed his eyes to the noise surrounding him.

He had no warning of the stranger's approach until a pair of
gloved arms encircled his waist. "Keep your eyes shut, 'your
Highness'," a feminine voice whispered, one he quickly
identified.

"Mistress," he greeted her.

"You didn't keep your appointment like I ordered," she gruffly
stated, groping her fingers downward to the crotch of his
breeches. "You left me with no choice but to track you down and
punish you properly." She fondled his penis to an aching arousal,
then squeezed the rigid rod in an almost painful grip.

"I am to be married shortly!" he hissed, angry at his cock for
rising under her sadistic touch.

"I know," she replied and he could visualize the sick grin on her
face as she talked. "I have a wedding gift for you to share with
your demure little bride on the honeymoon."

"And you could not have sent it by express post, could you?"

"Of course not. It's something I needed to deliver...personally."
Her fingers released his member and undid the clasps of his
breeches, tugging the snug garment passed his narrow hips. He
wore no underwear as he was accustomed to doing and his turgid
prick jutted long and heavy away from his loins. She cradled his
testicles in one hand, seeming to test their weight. They hung
far from his groin and she whispered along his neck, "For a man
who left the country to escape me, I can tell you obeyed my
command against masturbating. Stand up straight and put your
hands along the walls."

Dietre tried to disobey her, to no avail. The touch of her satin
fingers on his throbbing cock made him weak to her will and he
placed his hands palms open against the cool stone. She teased
and titilated his erection until he stroked it willingly along
her gloved hand. With her other hand, she caressed his balls and
murmured for him to let himself go and come for her. His
breathing became desperate moans of excitement. She tightened her
fingers around his shaft and pumped the fist over his length as
he heaved himself into her closed palm. His testes drew up in
their protective sack as they readied to drive their life-giving
cargo out of his body. "Nnnngghhh, nnggghh, oohhh Mistress..." he
grunted, his muscles seizing with endorphins of orgasmicrelease.

Clotted, ropy strands of semen erupted from his cock, some arcing
far from his body and landing on the floor while the rest poured
over her fisted hand. She continued to pleasure him as he
climaxed and eventually ceased coming, praising him for being an
obediant slave. When his cock was deflated of blood, she let go
and stripped off her dirtied glove. She threw it onto the pile of
his shed cloak and mask and reached into the bodice of her
costume. Dietre saw a familiar silver ring held between two
dainty fingers. She eased the metal circle down the length of his
flaccid penis and pushed it firmly against the root. She then
used her clean hand to arouse him once more, adjusting the cock
ring at the base of his shaft. "All ready to deflower your
bride-to-be," his mistress stated saucily, disappearing behind
the curtained wall.

Dietre attempted to remove the ring and found out it could only
be taken off if his member was limp. He peeled back the cuff of
his left glove to note the time. There wasn't enough to jack-off
a second time. He jerked a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped
away the vestigages of his seed, then stuffed the soiled material
back in his breeches. As he buttoned his fly, he carefully
manuvered his current erection down the right side of his pantleg
and prayed no one would notice his condition. In his brain, he
cursed his sister and the bitch mistress who created his plight.

He worked his way to the chapel and down to the altar moments
before the ceremony was to begin. The organ sounded and all in
attendance stood, watching the main aisle for the bride to
arrive. Lady Mara was escorted by her father to her waiting
fiance, dressed according the centuries old custom of a white
wedding gown and layers upon layers of lacy veil. Only her hands
were bare to receive the blessed band to tie her to the Prince
until death. The veil obscured her face from his eyes and bad
luck would dog the marriage if it was removed at anytime before
he claimed her sexually.

=======

Slade groaned, "That is the most idiotic notion-"

"Would you shut up!" Grace retorted, jabbing her lover in the
ribs with the point of her elbow. He snarled at her as he rubbed
the sore area and Nathaniel chortled at his friend's attitude.
She asked me, "Where was I?"

"Dietre and Mara were getting married," I supplied and she gave
me a smile of thanks.

=======

The priest droned in a monotone about the sanctity of marriage
and beseeched the Lord to bless this union. The vows were spoken
by both bride and groom, rings exchanged and the Prince brushed a
chaste kiss across his wife's knuckles. With their marriage
complete, Dietre and the new Princess made their way through the
slew of guests toward a bedchamber sequestered in a guarded
turret of the palace set aside as an inpromptu honeymoon suite.
Many companions and good friends of the couple trailed after
them,  cavorting noisily in an old-fashioned charivari.

Dietre hoisted Mara off the floor and into the strong cradle of
his arms, allowing her to open the door of the chamber before he
carried her over the threshhold. Unable to stand anymore of the
incessant pressure on his prick, he tossed Mara gracelessly onto
the bed and nearly tore his breeches off his lower body. He
shoved the too-tight trousers roughly down his thighs and gave a
hearty moan of relief as his rampant arousal bobbed freely in the
air. He fisted his right hand around the pulsating shaft, saying
to himself, "Thank Christ! Aaahhhh..." A loud gasp came from his
wife as she gazed at his thick, crimson-colored manhood.

"Oh my," she breathed softly, touching a hand to her hidden
mouth. "I never realized it could be that big." She pushed
herself from her spot on the bed and approached her husband
warily, never taking her eyes away from his cock. Her fingers
lightly grazed the swollen tip and he jolted, his cock literally
leaping toward her feather-soft fingertips. The digits traced a
massive vein running along the top side to where his member hung
from his groin and she found the silver ring embedded around the
root. "Does it hurt terribly?" she asked.

He worked his mouth like a landed fish gasping for air, finally
saying, "I can explain..."

"Shhhh," she responded, dragging her hands up under his
shirttails and flattening them out over his hirstute chest. "If
I'd known it would cause you such discomfort," Mara whispered
before pressing a soothing kiss along the hollow of his throat.

"YOU!" he shouted, grabbing a handful of her heavy veil intent on
seeing the whole face of the woman he called Mistress.

"No, don't!" she cried out and quickly backed away from him.
"Tradition says-"

"Oh, -fuck- tradition!" He suddenly dug both hands into her upper
arms and yanked her flush against his body. "You little hoyden!
You -knew- who I was when you first saw me, didn't you?" She
opened her mouth to deny the accusation and he shook her until
her teeth rattled. "Don't compound the situation by lying to me,
Mara, if that is your -real- name. I have every intention on
unmasking you and then, demanding a divorce."

Mara sucked in a sharp breath. "On what grounds?!?"

"I think domestic violence will do for a start, -dearest-,"
Dietre growled. "You struck the royal heir to Kriegstan before we
married. A crime that entails a deadly punishment if you're found
guilty...which I will make certain you are."

"Don't go there, Highness. You aren't the only one with powerful
ammunition to use in divorce proceedings. What would the loyal,
traditional, very backward people of this nation THINK when they
find out their rugged Prince Dietre enjoys being flogged by his
petite wife?" Mara spat her retort in his face and jerked the
lacy veil away from her head. Her eyes were glittering chips of
smokey green ice as she glared at him, knocking his hands off her
arms. "I'm 'unmasked', Dietre," she hissed angrily. "Do your
worst."

"Honsetly, I intend on doing my very best," he stated in reply,
the corners of his mouth curving upward in an evil smile. He
thrust his hands beneath the skirt of her gown, lifted her high
off the floor and held her slender thighs open awkwardly as he
brought her down onto his raging erection. At this savage,
penetrating entry, Dietre immediately realized three things: one,
his new wife wore no undergarments; two, she was indeed a virgin;
and three, the heavy load of semen carried in his balls exploded
out from his cock when he sank inside her snug pussy.

=======

"Oh how typical!" Slade grumbled while rolling his eyes in
contempt. "Of course Mara is a virgin! I suppose the Prince will
fall maaaadly in love with her and forget the divorce?" The look
on Grace's face reminded me of a volcano ready to erupt. Her eyes
were narrowed to slits and her cheeks were tinged pink. She
knocked the hand Slade had draped around her waist away and
scrambled off the bed. "Where do you think you're going?" he
demanded arrogantly.

"I am going upstairs to find some clothes to wear, then I'm
calling a cab and getting the hell outta here," she shot back,
stamping her bare feet against the floor as she tromped across
toward the door.

"You are a real jerk, Slade," I said and hurriedly dressed in my
discarded shirt and jeans. When I was fully clothed, I bolted
upstairs to find Grace and see if she felt like venting to me.
Having never been in this house before, it took me awhile to
locate Grace in another bedroom, rummaging through a closet for
fresh clothes. I tapped on the ajar door, asking softly, "Hey,
you want to talk about it?"

She yanked on a pair of jeans way too long in the legs and snug
at the waist. Dropping onto the edge of the made bed, she talked
to me while rolling up the cuffs. "Why does he have to be such an
asshole, Livvy? I'll admit, I wasn't too happy about being
kidnapped and chained to the bed, but aside from that, I thought
Slade was an okay kinda guy. I've been in this house for over a
week, having great sex and telling him really good erotica and
not once did he ever act the prick until now." The jeans were
done being rolled and she looked over at me with red- rimmed
eyes. "Why? What's his problem?"

I walked over and sat next to her, putting an arm around her
shoulders. "Slade is a vampire but he's still a man," I tried to
explain. "Because Nathaniel and I showed up, he's a little scared
that Nate will think he's gone soft. Men don't like their buddies
to see them show any tender emotions. At least, I think that's
bug up his butt."

"I think I have Stockholm syndrome," Grace sighed, leaning
against me. "I've fallen in love with my captor." I hugged her
and rubbed my right hand along her arm. "Will he come after me?"
she asked in a pitiful whine.

A rustling noise sounded behind us and we glanced at the doorway.
There was the cause of Grace's sadness standing with his palms
braced along the top of the doorframe. "Just try to leave and
I'll clap you back in those chains so fast it'll make your head
spin," Slade purred. Nathaniel stood slightly beyond his friend
and waved for me to get out of the room. I squeezed Grace one
last time before I got to my feet and walked quickly toward the
door, slithering myself under Slade's upraised arm. He grinned
down at me and said, "Y'all come back now, ya hear?" I smiled
weakly and darted passed him into my husband's embrace, eager to
leave, like right now.

Instead of taking me to the front door, Nate steered me down a
long, candle-lit hallway. "Aren't we going?" I asked in a hushed
whisper.

"Nope." He led me to a shut door and turned the knob, pushing it
open. "It would be impolite not to accept our host's offer to
stay the night." A squeal escaped from my mouth as Nathaniel
swept me off my feet and into his arms. He carried me across to a
canopied bed and casually dropped me onto the folded down
blankets. I reclined on my arms, taking in the sight of my still
naked lover and his erect cock. He crawled on top of me and
gently pinioned my wrists just above my head, saying seductively,
"You weren't the only one who got hot from Grace's story." He
lowered his mouth to the side of my neck and nipped lightly at
the skin with his sharp teeth.

I closed my eyes at his touch and stroked the leg of denim jeans
against his bare hip. "I don't hear doors slamming or any
screaming," I murmured. "I wonder how Grace is holding up?"

He raised his face and peered at mine. "What did I say about
eavesdropping?"

"I'm not!" I protested. "Grace is human, so I can't link minds
with her and even if I could, your buddy has some pretty powerful
mental walls thrown up. I can't sense anyone in this place except
for you." We kissed for a few moments, then I tore my lips away
and asked, "Do you truly think Grace is all right? He seemed
really pissed about her taking off."

He groaned. "Hon, he won't beat her," he told me and slid from
his position, laying beside me on the bed. "Slade is totally
head-over- heels in love with a mortal, human woman, someone so
different from himself. It's like when two people from opposite
ends of the cultural spectrum fall in love and decide to get
married. Will one have to give up everything he or she believes
in to make the relationship work? Or will there be give-and-take
by both sides?" He paused for a minute, then continued. "Let me
ask you a question. Didn't it scare the shit out of you when you
first saw me in vampire form?"

"Well, yeah."

"Fucking frightening, right?" He poked a finger at my left
temple. "That feeling you had about me at the beginning is what
Slade is feeling about Grace. He can't give her the gift of being
a vampire and knows he'll watch her grow old and greyand...die."

I snuggled up to him, resting my chin on his shoulder and saying,
"God, how sucky for them. I wish Grace could've held on to her
virginity a little longer." As we cuddled together, my mind went
back in time to the night after Nathaniel had raped me and
changed me into a vampire. Part of what he told me echoed
hauntingly in my memory - 'Virginity is very important. A virgin
tears easily when mated with and accepts the change much faster.'
"Holy Fuck!" I shouted and bolted upright. Nate stared at me like
I'd lost it. I mashed my puckered lips hard against his in a
quick kiss, then grabbed either side of his jaw in my hands. "She
doesn't have to be a virgin! Her vagina just needs to be torn
when he fucks her!"


end





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