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From: "Yotna El'toub" <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Vampyre Daze Chapter 10 of 50 [Yotna El'toub] (FF,WS,MC)
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Date: Mon, 28 Mar 2005 11:10:02 -0500
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             {ASSM} Vampyre Daze Chapter 10 of 50
             [Yotna El'toub] (FF,WS,MC)
********************************************************************
WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language of an 
adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal age to do so. If 
you are a minor or object to stories of an adult nature, LEAVE HERE 
IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is 18+ please abide to your own 
local laws.

Please note and understand the content codes for this story. The characters 
portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any 
similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The 
characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to 
state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world.

Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.
____________________________________________________________________


Chapter 10: The False Heart.

Jeff reclined in his cell, his face, an unconcerned mask. Behind the 
stillness of his vulpine features his mind tumbled. Just how did he find 
himself in this situation? He had always tried to be a good father and 
husband; true, the affair with Janet was an exception to that rule. Lalo had 
replaced him in Maldea's heart. Then, as Lalo grew, Maldea had started to 
worry about the possibility of the vampyre coven hunting her down; there 
were to be no more little Contadino's, no sons to continue his proud Italian 
lineage. Jeff had pleaded with Maldea to change her mind, but it was to no 
avail. 'Why would I bring another child into the world -- just to be vampyre 
fodder?' her cold words rang around Jeff's tired brain.

From then on, the physical side of their love had retreated further; the 
love, the trust and the history that bound them was still there, but the 
passion? No, it was spent. Wearily, Jeff raised a hand to wipe the dampness 
from his cheeks. He wept for Maldea, for his love and loss, he wept for 
himself. Here he lay, a marked man -- and all because he chose to run, 
rather than stand and fight. That had been  a mistake he would never repeat, 
if he ever had the opportunity.

A rap on the door stirred him from his self-pity.

"Contadino, you have a visitor!"

The door swung inwards and a young policeman stared down at him, his face 
was unexpectedly sympathetic.

"You had better spruce yourself up a bit; she's worried enough about you 
already."

A couple of minutes later Jeff stumbled up the corridor behind the young 
Bobby. He was taken back to the same interview room, but in place of the 
stern-faced inspector a much more welcome visitor awaited him.

"Janet! Are you a sight for sore eyes."

Seconds later Jeff's breath whooped out of him as Janet flew into his arms.

"I have been trying to tell them they have this all wrong, that you were 
with me when they all vanished, but will they listen? They think we are in 
it together!" The words tumbled from Janet's lips.

"You shouldn't have told them. What if Maldea finds out?" asked Jeff.

"Jeff, love, I don't think we are going to be able to keep this secret any 
longer," Janet replied.

Jeff sat down heavily, his dark haired head sinking into his hands.

"Jesus, what a mess," he groaned.

Over the next half an hour the lovers talked, Janet tried her best to lift 
Jeff's spirits, but he was inconsolable. Janet had never seen him like this; 
he was a broken man.

"That's it, back to the cell for you, Contadino."

Jeff looked up in confusion; the fresh-faced copper had been replaced by the 
pallid Sergeant. Grumbling, Jeff stood; ungraciously he shuffled off, 
without as much as a backwards glance to Janet.

"Bye, Jeff! Don't worry. I will find a way to get you out," Janet called.

Jeff merely shrugged and walked on.

Janet sat in shock, she was afraid for Jeff; in this state he could do 
anything. Finally she left the interview room and made her way back to her 
car, as she passed the reception desk someone spoke softly.

"Here, take this..."

Janet reached out and grasped the clean white handkerchief; she hadn't even 
realised that she was crying. She smiled wanly at the youthful officer and 
slipped out into the car park.

Back at her car she was all fingers and thumbs. Janet rummaged through her 
handbag searching for her keys. At last she held them in her shaking hand 
and pressed the small protuberance, the car alarm peeped as the doors 
unlocked. Janet opened her door, but stopped in the middle of swinging 
herself into the bucket seat. The reason for her hesitation pressed, sharp 
edged, into her spine. The woman holding the other end of the knife spoke 
slowly and clearly.

"Now you are coming for a little ride with me, and we are going to talk very 
honestly about Mr and Mrs Contadino, right?"

"Right," said Janet.

                     ------------------------

Helen swung her police car through the gates of the Imperial Hotel; sitting 
beside her Lorna let out a low whistle.

"What the hell is going on here?" Lorna asked.

"Looks like more than an assault on a cleaner, that's for sure," Helen 
added.

In front of the hotel stood two fire engines, and an ambulance. A crowd of 
women was gathered around the rear of the ambulance. They were furiously 
arguing with a couple of harassed paramedics. Further back, on the steps of 
the hotel a large red-faced man stood with his arms cradled around two 
weeping maids.

Lorna decamped and walked calmly towards the gathered guests and staff.

"Who's in control here?" Lorna asked loudly.

"Christ knows!" piped up one of the struggling paramedics.

"Me I expect," said the rotund hotel manager.

"So what's the story?"

"Members of my staff were attacked by a guest; it would appear one of the 
band members raced to her aid, and fell -- to her death! Now her friends 
don't want the paramedics to take her away," The manager puffed.

Lorna swung to face the scrum of bodies behind the ambulance.

"What's the issue here?" Lorna shouted.

A small, dark Hispanic woman walked confidently through the crowd and up to 
the policewoman.

"The problem is that your fine emergency services wish to take our sister 
from us. It is not our way. I have tried to explain," said Maldea.

"They are only doing their duty, Madam; there are procedures to be 
followed."

"But can't you make an exception for me?" Maldea asked.

"I'm afraid not, you see in an unexplained death..." Lorna's voice faded.

Dumbly she gazed down at her hand, cradled as it was between Maldea's tanned 
palms. Gently the older woman squeezed Lorna's fingers.

"Please," Maldea asked.

Lorna's eyes moved up to stare into Maldea's.

"It is our way," said Maldea.

"Paramedics, listen -- leave the body -- I am taking it into police 
custody," Lorna interjected.

"Fine by me, I have had enough of these weirdo's. Come on Frank, let's leave 
'em to it!" said the senior Paramedic.

"And the best of British to you; these women are insane!" said Frank, as he 
lowered his end of the stretcher, "we will need this back you know; hospital 
property."

"I'll make certain it gets back to you. Look, you go -- I'm sure there are 
people that do want your help out there," Lorna smiled.

"Yeah, true; thank god the worlds not full of nutters, bye love, take care," 
shouted the senior paramedic as he started the ambulance, "Josh Newey's the 
name if you need a reference."

"Thanks Josh, bye" Lorna smiled, her eyes struggling to leave Maldea's for 
long enough to reassure the driver.

"Good, let's get Margit back inside," Maldea ordered.

The trance was broken, and Lorna turned back to the manager.

"Is there a room I can use to interview everyone?" she asked.

"Well there is the conference suite, it's not occupied at the moment," the 
manager answered hesitantly.

"I'm commandeering it, sir, not offering to hire it," Lorna grinned.

"Of course, my pleasure," the manager sighed.

"Oh, and some coffee please, gratis?" Lorna asked.

"Naturally, on the house, my compliments," the manager replied, sourly, 
"Erm, you aren't going to take that body in there with you, are you?"

"Would you rather I left it in reception?" Lorna asked.

"No, indeed not!" he replied as Lorna walked past him.

The manager stood on the steps shaking his head in sorrow.

"Really!" he muttered.

                    ------------------------

Janet sat on the aged settee; her eyes never left the swinging point of the 
knife that weaved to and fro in front of her.

"Do you still need that," Janet asked.

"I don't trust you, any of you, you have taken my girl. You and the police, 
you are all out to get us!" Leanne growled, "It's always been the same, 
people after us."

Janet wasn't qualified medically but the paranoid tirade shocked her: this 
woman had lost it. Janet swallowed hard.

"Now I have one of you, and you are going to pay. Pay for it all!"

"Perhaps I can help you find your daughter?" Janet asked.

"How? Cath's dead."

"No, I don't think she is. Jeff was with me when Cath vanished. He couldn't 
have taken her."

"With you? Then who took Cath? Where is she?"

"I don't have all the answers, but some - erm -- cult could have taken Cath. 
Jeff and Maldea upset them when they were in the States."

"A cult, yes that makes sense..." Leanne's eyes hardened, "how do I knows 
you're not one of 'em?"

"Because I'm here, I have had Jeff taken from me. Just like Cath was taken 
from you," Janet thought quickly, "maybe the police and the cult are in it 
together?"

"Yeah, the police and them, bastards! They took Cath."

"That's right, and if we can get Jeff out he can help us find Cath," Janet 
added.

Leanne jumped to her feet, and rushed at Janet. Suddenly the blade was at 
Janet's breast.

"Youse is tryin' to trick me, think I'm a country bumpkin do you, city 
girl?"

Janet watched as the blade rose, Leanne's arm reached its apex. Suddenly the 
arm swung down, Janet tried to close her eyes but she was unable. Terrified 
and heart beating hard Janet waited to die, she waited for the fatal blow.

It never came, the knife stopped dead; after a second Janet unlocked her 
eyes from its tip and glance at Leanne's face. It was frozen in time, a 
cameo of savage hatred glared at her. Leanne stood perfectly still, looking 
like a waxwork representation of a female ripper. Janet squirmed against the 
warmth between her legs, she realised she had wet herself. But she had done 
more than that; she had somehow completely halted her murderous attacker. 
What was this power she wielded?

Still shaking, Janet stood and walked around her statue-like attacker. The 
woman was posed in mid-strike; her arms stretched forwards, her legs 
splayed. Janet became aware of a scent, a delicious warm fragrance. She 
tracked its source to Leanne, she was emitting the smell of sex -- the 
lunatic woman was turned on! Janet felt her groin glow with warmth once 
more; this time it was not urine; it was something more intimate, more 
passionate.

Janet walked around in front of the frozen female, and knelt crouching 
before her. Her hands slid up the outsides of Leanne's legs, under the 
cotton skirt. Janet's nimble fingers hooked under the sides of Leanne's 
pants; she gripped and pulled the pants free from Leanne's thighs. Delicious 
aromas wafted from under Leanne's skirt to tease Janet's sensitive nose. 
Janet found her mouth watering; she desired nothing more than to fill her 
mouth with soft female folds. For the second time in a day she fought the 
perverted desire, and once again, she failed. Acquiescence was faster this 
time.

Janet tore the pants from Leanne. She stuffed her questing head under 
Leanne's skirt, splitting it asunder. Her hungry lips fastened onto the 
bulging slick skin. Noisily Janet sucked Leanne's folds into her mouth; her 
tongue slavered across pliant flesh hunting out the precious nodule. Once 
found, the bud was pummelled and twisted by the thrusts of Janet's writhing 
tongue. Leanne gasped, gulping in lungfuls of air lustily. The knife hung 
limp in her hand, before dropping point down to skewer the settee's stained 
cushion.

Groaning, Leanne pressed her most intimate flesh against the accommodating 
mouth. She screamed as a pre-orgasmic shudder tore through her. Janet 
revelled in the taste of Leanne's ejaculated fluids. Seconds later her 
diligent mouth was rewarded with a flood of luscious discharge.

Leanne gripped Janet's head and ground herself against her willing lover. 
She opened her mouth and gasped her ecstasy as she climbed towards a second 
climax.

The women forgot their differences, and celebrated their newfound 
relationship. Soon they would search for their lost ones. For now they 
satisfied themselves with more explorations of the erogenous.


                    ------------------------


Lorna and Helen observed the assembly of women and girls in front of them; 
they were a striking bunch, if somewhat off-putting. Margit lay on the 
stretcher in front of the group, her bloodied body covered by a hotel towel. 
Lorna pulled herself up to her full height and addressed her unusual 
audience.

"Right.  We have a very serious situation here. I know one of your 
colleagues has accidentally died, and this is a very sad time for you all, 
but I have to establish the facts," Lorna took a deep breath, "did anyone in 
this room assault two of the housemaids?"

A giggle burst manically from Rachael's lips. She immediately hung her head, 
but her shoulders still heaved with barely suppressed mirth.

Maldea stood.

"There is time for this later; we must tend to Margit, now!"

"Maldea, Margit is dead, she's not going anywhere. I am more concerned at 
this point with the living," Lorna replied.

"You don't understand, Margit may have somewhere to go..." Maldea paused, 
"it's our way."

"Your way, your way! Is it your way to sexually assault young women as well? 
Or to protect those that do?" Lorna scowled.

Lorna's eyes fixed on Rachael.

"Listen to my voice, Lorna, we must tend to Margit, it is our way,"

Lorna swung her head to glare at Maldea.

"I have told you once..." Lorna's voice faded, "it is our way. Yes, it is 
our way,"

Helen stepped forward.

"Lorna, what are you doing? Procedure states..."

Lorna cut her off mid-sentence.

"I'm the senior officer here! Margit is the priority here -- it is our way."

"Shit, Lorna what's wrong with you?" Helen asked.

"Fuck you, fuck procedure! You aren't even on patch, my word is law here! 
Now sod off."

Helen saw the insane look in Lorna's eyes and backed off.

"Now let's sort out Margit, Maldea," said Lorna.

"Excellent! Sisters, take Margit outside," Maldea ordered.

Seconds later the French windows were opened, and Margit's body was carried 
out.  The sisters tended to the body, as tradition required. Margit's 
clothes were stripped away, and her body laid out straight on the lush lawn.

Lorna stood by Maldea observing the ritual.

"What now?" asked Lorna.

"Wait and watch to see if the Wampyr call her," replied Maldea, "it will be 
quick if I am right."

Lorna watched the women as they returned to the room; their faces gave away 
nothing. Helen wandered across to join Lorna.

"Can we start the interviews now?" she asked quietly.

"Soon," whispered Lorna, "very soon."

Helen's eye was drawn to an odd glow outside, her eyes widened when she saw 
its source. Margit's body glowed with a dull red light, and Helen found her 
eyes drawn to the body. It seemed so much closer, she could make out every 
pore and blemish on the corpse. Before her marvelling eyes the gaping wounds 
closed, and the body took on an intense orange glow. Helen could see every 
nuance of Margit's form; her eyes drifted up the convex slope of her 
breasts. They rested on the plump tips--slowly but relentlessly the dead 
tissue erected. Margit's platform nipples begged to be suckled, Helen's 
tongue ran over her lips, dampening them as if in preparation.

Lorna's eyes were locked onto an even more intimate part of Margit's 
anatomy. To her delight the glowing labial lips moistened, and swelled. A 
small dome appeared through the stretched crinkled skin, Margit's clitoris 
erected savagely. Lorna gasped as her own followed suit. Although the 
intensity of the glare almost blinded Lorna, she could not tear her eyes 
from the lewd display. In an instant the garden was filled with light, when 
Lorna's eyes recovered, Margit's body was gone.

Lorna jumped at the delicate touch of Helen's hand, her sleek fingers 
twisted Lorna's right nipple. Lorna's breath rasped over her lips.

"Stimulating, isn't it?" Maldea laughed.

Lalo stood beside her mother, her hand buried deeply between her own legs. 
Maldea spoke in a reverential tone.

"The Wampyr have taken her, Margit was of true vampyre heart."

Lalo heard the words running through her mind, but this time she kept them 
to herself. Uttering them would be too dangerous in present company. Her 
mind raced, what did it mean?

'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.'
'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.'
'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.'

More importantly, what on earth did it have to do with her mother?

                    ------------------------

____________________________________________________________________

Foot Notes (C) Yotna El'toub March 2005
____________________________________________________________________
I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed
writing it.  As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only
payment for my work.

Please address comments to yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com

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published, posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or server,
other than ASSM and ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION of the
author. Any reader may archive a copy of this story, provided the
warnings and copyright information is attached in full.

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