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From: Yotna El'toub <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Repost [edited 2007]   Vampyre Nights 2/12 {Yotna El'toub}
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Date: Mon, 03 Sep 2007 00:10:03 -0400
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Story attached :)
_________________________________________________________________
Feel like a local wherever you go.
http://www.backofmyhand.com
<1st attachment, "Vampy Nights 2 of 12 .txt" begin>

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{ASSM) Repost [edited 2007]   Vampyre Nights 2/12 {Yotna El'toub} 
(Slow F/F F/f MC WS Tg)
********************************************************************

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.
(R) Yotna El'toub 2007
______________________________________________________________________

Vampyre nights

By Yotna El'toub


Written in 2005, revised and edited August 2007.

(c) Yotna El'toub 2007.

Part 2 of 12.


Chapter four: Free days and holidays

Sitting at home Joyce felt more than a little foolish. Claudia would
be rushed off her feet and taking the brunt of the crews reaction to
suddenly finding that they only digging they would do this week was in
their own gardens. All because of what! She couldn't really think
about it logically, all because of a passing infatuation with
Claudia's nether regions. It was laughable, they had shared tents over
the years on various digs, showered together in the jungle. All this
with never a second glance, but today, today was different. Shaking
her head she tried to forget the incident, bur she could not ignore
the chill that ran down her spine.

"Perhaps I'm coming down with something" she thought, but now she
was home she felt fine;  it was just the odd shiver.

She walked to the cabinet in the bathroom and pulled the obligatory
poses, checking eyes, tongue, throat and glands in front of its tiny
mirror. Just to be on the safe side Joyce popped the silver glinting
thermometer under her tongue and waited thirty seconds, 98.4F no
problem. Shutting the door she wondered about the menopause, could you
get cold flushes as well as hot? Then she laughed at her own
pessimistic thinking; that was a bit unlikely at 27.

Still musing she left the bathroom and passing her coat in the hall
brushed against it, something heavy in the pocket banged against her
arm. She was surprised, as her normal pocket contents only ran to
tissues and the odd bag of candies. Joyce slipped in an enquiring
hand. 

To her utter amazement it emerged clutching the artefact she had
recovered that day! To hell with the menopause; this was looking more
like Alzheimer's by the minute. First she had bought an auction lot
she had no interest in. Now she found the most valuable relic from the
dig was some how lingering in her pocket like a discarded candy
wrapper.

Joyce turned on her toes and instead of heading back to the lounge as
intended she walked to her study and logged on to her PC. After half
an hours surfing she felt much more reassured on the dementia score,
it was very unlikely at her age. She had decided to book her self into
this week's well-woman clinic on Thursday; a check up seemed a
reasonable precaution. Tomorrow the plumbing would be fixed; well it
would if cyber-plumbers were any more reliable than their 'real'
cousins.

She then turned her attention to the handful of mirror sitting by her
mouse pad. After scouring several sites she was no real closer to its
origins, but there was a surprise - the markings were not on the
mirror to ward off evil, they were intended to attract it! Now the
information bug truly bit. Why would a mirror designed to act as some
sort of conduit for evil be found so close to a churches nave?

She had to retrieve the rest of the mirror, it may just tell the full
story. In any case this looked to be an increasingly important find.
Joyce rang Claudia's mobile, after the predictable

"Hi, Claudie?"
 
She asked her colleague to join her for a coffee and meal at Luigi's.

"About six, great! No much better now thanks, bye" Joyce felt more
cheerful, even happy as she flipped the phone down and pocketed it.

Humming to herself she went to the bedroom and dressed warmly. Soon
she was slinging some old tools into the back of her '78 T-Bird, life
didn't seems so bad after all. At a half past five she left for the
short drive and in no time was pulling into the lot behind Luigi's.
Claudia was chatty at dinner and had clearly risen to the new
responsibility well. As one long bout of laughter faded; Joyce looked
more serious.

"I have something well, unorthodox to ask of you?"

"Sounds serious? Fire away" Claudia replied lightly.

"It could be serious, career-wise if we're caught" Joyce indicated.

"Caught, doing what?" asked a confused Claudie.

"Getting the rest of the mirror," Joyce's voice lowered to a
conspiratorial whisper, "that's what!"

Claudie looked even more confused.

"But the digs closed, how are you going..."

Realisation hit the Claudie's face. It seemed the unconventional
clothes weren't just an odd grunge phase of evening wear; Joyce meant
to dig tonight!

"I really, for the life of me don't know why I let you talk me into
this" Claudie said with the slightest of slurs.

"I didn't, you know... I think it was the forth bottle of Chianti"

"Heh, now you may have a point there, Joycie!"

Two figures stood just outside the locked site entrance. Joyce slipped
her soon to be redundant security pass out. Flashed it through the
reader and they were heading for the shadowy far side of the site in
seconds.

"Jesus, I'm cold, I wished you'd given me some idea about this
before I dressed for dinner" chattered Claudia.

"If I had, would you have come?"

Claudie shrugged off the question.

"OK, keep the flash light there, no a little higher, and left -
perfect!"  Joyce uttered from her crouched position in the pit.

For twenty minutes nothing: then in frustration she had switched her
attention to the other edge of the pit, and bingo! Three more pieces
mirror collected in the sacking on the floor of the trench over the
next five minutes.

"Look Claudie you can keep this one first thing Wednesday. Do some
research on it yourself; for now let's split".

As Joyce drove away from the site she felt exhilarated. Maybe it was
the booze, maybe not. Claudia sat crouched forward trying vainly to
get what benefit she could from the cars ancient heater. As she
dropped Claudie by the Metro Joyce gave the surprised girl a peck on
her cheek. To her delight there were no buzzers or bells, no orgasmic
upswell. Great, things were back to normal!

"Look I owe you one for tonight Claudie, there's a lot of people
wouldn't have risked that" Joyce said, entirely accurately.

"Well at least we got something out of the months of digging. What are
you going to use it for?" asked the girl.

"My hope is that if I get enough information on this, quickly enough I
maybe able to halt the construction work while we finish our
excavation. This find could be that significant!"
 
"Can you at least give me a week off," Claudia laughed, "I've made
plans to decorate the bathroom."
 
"See you Wednesday Claudie... Thanks again, bye"


Chapter Five: On reflection

The newspaper spread on the table had the four pieces of mirror placed
carefully on it. Joyce first cleaned and then started to re-assemble
as much of the original frame as possible. After 2 hours of
painstaking repositioning, a little manual manipulation the frame, and
other than a three-inch gap it looked good. the mirror albeit dull was
back into what probably was fairly close to its original
configuration. 

Joyce smiled in satisfaction, stood up and walked to the kitchen to
clean the mud from her hands. She glanced up at the clock, noting it
was ten past midnight, late. She wouldn't research any more this
evening, just tidy up and call it a day.

As Joyce carefully washed her hands she noticed a faint red mark on
her right palm. It stretched down from between her forefinger and
thumb in a shallow slope towards her palms middle. It looked like mild
cooking burn, but she couldn't remember picking a hot utensil. It
resembled a pan handle or something of the sort. As she dabbed her
palms dry she pressed a little harder than usual to test the severity
of the wound, no pain or unusual sensation. Just another of life's
little mysteries.

Back in her bedroom Joyce slipped the oversize Simpson tee shirt on
over her head. Yawning she went to set the alarm for the morning, and
then realised there was no need. Nothing to wake for, it had been back
University when she had last been in this situation. Nearly six years
ago now. Although she didn't really feel that tired Joyce fell asleep
very easily into a deep and dreamless slumber.

On the hall table the blade of opener wobbled lightly then a little
more violently, just as if a heavy truck was passing. But the roads
were quiet, no trucks, in fact, no traffic of any kind. The blade gave
another wobble this time even more violent. Very slowly the dark blade
started to shine a dull red colour. The colour soon was mirrored in
the living room as the first of the uncovered fragment took on an
unearthly glow.

Back in the bedroom Joyce had begun to dream, and she moved a little
in her sleep. She had the oddest feeling that someone was sitting on
her chest, making hard for her to breathe. In her dream she opened her
eyes, before her was the image of Claudia's crotch, just as she had
seen it in the mirror. Her eyes drank in the lovingly remembered
sight.

She saw some movement a pale object moved towards the top of the
shorts waistband. It was a hand; on the little finger it wore a ring
just like the one on Joyce's right hand. The hand that currently lay
twitching on top of the thick comforter. The dream hand pushed itself
confidently past the waistband and ruffled the zip of the shorts up
into a small undulating hump.

Joyce sighed, as the observed hand continued its downward journey.
Finally the fingertips wriggled down beyond the humped pubis and into
the warm delta below. A small damp spot formed at the junction of the
shorts legs. Soon the spot diffused seeping out further into the
fabric. Joyce gazed at the scene before her watching carefully
noticing how the damp material clung to the moving fingers and the now
clearly defined folds of underlying vulva. 

The pressure on Joyce's chest increased as the excited hips started to
rock in time to the detached but loving hand. The weight eased and the
image faded, to Joyce it now felt as if she could float, the pressure
had alleviated, and under its own volition her body sat slowly upright
in bed. Seconds later her bare feet touched the wooden floor by her
tussled bed.

Joyce stood for along time by the hall table simply gazing sightless
at the opener. Suddenly her right hand grasped it firmly, whilst her
left hand to curled around the bottom of the handle. She raised it as
if to plunge it in sacrifice, and then she sliced the blade down in an
arc. 

The moving knife lifted the hem of the "Lisa" tee shirt centrally
between Joyce's spread legs legs. The fabric was pulled taught against
the blade. In one continuous motion the blade was brought swiftly up
splicing the fabric from the now tattered hem through to the rapidly
splitting neckline.

Joyce's condensing breath flowed over her skin and pooled between the
peaks of her breasts. As the mist reached her nipples they tightened
forming tight hard nubs. The blade paused, and then descended and
flattened against the cushion of her abundant dark pubic hair. Slowly
her hands swept from side to side, in a pendulum motion. A few
detached hairs fell onto the bare wooden floor eventually followed by
the now forgotten blade itself.

As images of Claudie swam through her fevered dreams, Joyce's fingers
explored the wetness of her own deep furrow. Her minds eye watched her
own surprisingly skilful hands strip the saturated shorts from
Claudie's lower body. Joyce's head lolled back onto its shoulders, her
mouth hung fully open. 

The twitching lips were waiting, trembling, willing the uncovered gash
of Claudie's sex to bear down on them. Standing in the deserted cold
hall, Joyce's tongue extended into the damp air and it rolled lustily
coating the imaginary labia of her dream lover with cool saliva. The
slightly crouched small figure started to buck violently against her
mobile fingers as sticky fluids bathed her thighs. Joyce alone and
sightless masturbated furiously.

In the intense dream the same wetness flowed over her spasming tongue
and slipped liberally down her throat, the excess lubricated her chin.
Joyce's eyelids opened widely as now fully awake and crouched in the
darkened hall her pleasure hit her. To her shock her body steamed to
an incredible orgasm. Her rasping tongue lashed the air in perfect
time to the frenzied pumping of her hips. She screamed her selfish
delight in to the silent hall.

Panting hard Joyce straightened up and caught sight of her image in
the hall mirror. It didn't startle her, it amazed her; she looked
wild, even wanton in her desire. The image in the mirror shook its
head in confusion, then turned and walked away unsteadily to the
bedroom.

Miles away in a darkened room the only dim light came from a glow on
the bedside table. There sat a small fragment of an ancient mirror its
dull surface showing the dim image of a tongue protruding vulgarly
from widely spread lips. 

The girl that slumbered there suddenly woke and shivered slightly. She
wondered why she had woken; she didn't need the bathroom. Just maybe
she had picked up a chill, she really hadn't been dressed for an
adventure. 

Rolling over she felt a familiar dampness between her thighs and
smiled. A wet dream! At her age! Still it had been powerful; she still
remembered the softness of the lips moving against her. 

But there was something else, something tucked away at the back of her
mind that made it particularly exciting! But it was no use it had
gone. Just as dreams do it had already started to fade, just like the
glorious feelings in her still contracting womb. Sighing with
satisfaction, Claudia rolled back over and fell into a peaceful sleep.


Chapter Six: Too much detail!

The alarm sounded at six-thirty, rousing Joyce from a deep sleep, but
rather than feeling drained after her disturbed night she felt great.
What an odd dream! She vaulted from under the covers and stopped dead.
The tattered remains of her tee shirt flapped around her exposed body,
it wasn't a dream! Still not believing it could be real she walked
into the hallway. On the floor the opener stared back at her
disbelieving eyes. Joyce was deeply perplexed even mystified, but she
couldn't be worried. Her mood was too light. She felt just too
excited, although she couldn't pin down why? Oh, to hell with it, life
was too short! She had so much to find out about the mirror in a
short space of time.

Two hours of searching and re-searching the net had pulled up quite a
bit of information. The real bonus had been the Smithsonian Hungarian
weekend seminar; the links from that session in April had revealed
much about the symbols on the mirrors frame. Not only were they there
to attract evil, but to trap it, condense it, even focus it. 

Now the church link made more sense, the belief may have been that the
mirror would absorb evil, and keep it from the world. The church would
have been a place of safety. A sanctuary in a very real sense;
preventing the accumulated evil being returned to the world. This
would make the mirror a unique artefact! What else might be there in
the nave? Joyce was certain she had a good case to delay the building
work if not even prevent it entirely. She started to peruse her
shelves for a particular book on Nave bosses when the doorbell rang
twice.

Wondering just who would be at her door at just after eight thirty she
was a little cautious and left the door chain in place. Joyce opened
the door a crack to ask.
 
"Joyce Griffiths, yes?"

"On-line Plumbers you e-mailed us?"

"Off course, long night totally forgot! Sorry!"

She freed the chain and swung the door back to a boiler-suited
figure, and gestured them towards the kitchen.

"The boilers in here and that's about all I know" Joyce said to the
plumber.

"Is there a chance of a coffee before I begin, I've just come from
an all night job?" A quiet voice asked.

"Sure, I'm just about to brew up myself, take a seat" The slim
figure dropped the tool bag beside the pine table.

"Could I wash away some of the grime in your sink?" Asked the quiet
voice.

"Sure feel free!" replied Joyce as she filled the espresso maker.
She turned back to see half the boiler suit hanging down and an
expanse of naked muscular skin.

"Sorry about this; but sometimes you get confined in such small spaces
that it feels like you are working in a sauna," the plumber said.

Although she was a little put out Joyce decided to keep it friendly.
Any plumber who turns up on time and on the right day is to be
treasured.
 
"No problem, I would have let you use the bathroom if I'd realised"

"Just as long as I'm not embarrassing you ma'am."

Joyce watched the polished muscles move, there was something quite
attractive about that strong back.

"I said as long as I'm not embarrassing you"

The plumber turned, bright blue eyes looked out from under a curly red
mop of hair. The hands still busily wiping soap away from the hidden
mouth and chin.

"No, not at all" Joyce lied to the attractive eyes.
 
"Great, thanks!" with a deft touch the plumber launched the towel
back onto the rack.

Joyce found her gaze directed straight at the plumber's chest, in
place of the expected expanse of blonde frizzy hair, there were two
small boyish breasts, each sporting a pierced nipple!

"Oh, you're a girl, I'm sorry, it was just that from the back..."
Joyce felt her face colouring.

"Yeah, I work out a bit," and so saying, she flexed an impressive
biceps before pulling the boiler suit back over her shoulders.

"So you keep getting cold blast, sounds like air in your system,
I'll just drink this and get right on it"

Joyce went back to her work on the PC, shortly there was a tap at
the door.

"It looks as if you've got a blockage in the circulating pump, I'll
need to power down while I take a look" The girl nodded to the PC.

"Oh, OK, I'll wrap up in a second." Joyce replied logging out of
the site.

"If you've got a key for the radiator in the hall I'll bleed it
first" said the plumber returning to the hall.

"I think it's on the hall table. But then most everything else is as
well, hang on!"

As Joyce arrived the plumber had just moved the table a little for
access, this was just enough of a motion to send the "later" rack
crashing to the floor.

"Shit, that is so you Gina!" The plumber cursed.

"Its O.K., no harm done, look you even found the key," Joyce laughed
"besides which I need to sort this lot out"

She bent and picked up the wedge of mail in her right hand and the
letter opener in the other, a chill ran through the hall.
 
"There did you feel that?" asked Joyce.

"Sure did, I'm not so sure that's the boiler though." frowned the
plumber.

"Oh well, whatever it is, can you please sort it out?"

"I'll sure try ma'am" Gina replied looking a little puzzled.

Joyce carried the mail back to the PC sat and turned to look dumbly at
the blank screen. Realising her mistake she threw the paper work down
on her desk to sort through. At least I don't need power for this,
she thought. 

Then something white caught her eye. One of the auctioneer's pieces of
paper had fallen open; on the corner of the document was a seal, it
had the form of one of the symbols on the mirrors edge embossed into
the once red wax. The document was a decree dated 1583 to one Stephen
Bathory. Her eyes widened, the large seal on the bottom of the page
actually carried three of the symbols, not the one she had originally
glanced!

Holding the paper between her hands, she noticed a smudge of red on
her left palm; she rubbed her fingers against it, no difference. She
suddenly realised it was a mirror image of the one she had seen on her
other hand last night. The shape was familiar; she picked up the
opener and laid it across one palm and then the next, the imprint of
the handle fitted the marks exactly! As she stared down in confusion
at her hands Gina walked to the door, she posed at the door frame
before she spoke.

"Powers back! The pumps OK just gummed up, servicing not a big
thing for you?" Gina quipped, "Hey are you O.K. ma'am"

Gina walked across and glanced down at the hands that the woman
stared at; each hand had a bright red whelp on it .

"That's nasty, did you burn yourself?"

Joyce remained silent.

"Lets get some water on them, now." Gina said, steering the confused
woman to the kitchen.

Gina held Joyce's wrists and let the cold faucet run water over her
palms. Joyce felt distant, it seems she was detached from the world.
But slowly she became aware of a distinct sensation. She could feel
the hard piercings through the boiler suit they seemed boring into her
back. Joyce's hands reversed the grip and pushed Gina's strong wet
hands to her own breasts.

The surprised palms felt the strong pressure of two nipples erecting
under them. Gina spun the woman in her arms


"Now it's your turn to surprise me, what is your name again?"

"Joyce, but I don't know what I'm doing, I've never..."

"Now that I believe; now luckily for you, I have. Often."

Gina had to tip her head a long way down to reach Joyce's trembling
lips, but an active tongue hurriedly seeking hers rewarded the effort.
Joyce groaned as her tongue met the stud in the tongue she explored.
At that same moment Joyce's nipples dragged across the stiff pierced
peaks of Gina's. Excited but confused Joyce pulled away

"I can't!"

Gina's eyes reinforced the action of her hand as it slid down the
front of Joyce's jeans.

"Yes, you can!"

Yes she did.

Joyce awoke in the dim room, the bright sunlight trying to force its
way past the green curtains. She looked at the sleeping woman beside
her, and marvelled at her stamina. Gina slept on as Joyce's slim hands
explored first her shoulders musculature and then slipped to her
tight breasts. Joyce smiled her hands crossed the expanding nipples;
she felt a growing pleasure from both her groin and her palms. She
still wondered about the lust she suddenly felt for her own sex. It
did seem perverse; but it was far more intense that anything she had
felt befor. She quaked softly inside.

Her palms returned to the hardening peaks, and the room pulsed with
a dim red light. Joyce's desire doubled, trebled and then flew off
the scale. 

Beneath her stationary hands the nipples grew searching for suckling
lips. But they found something unexpected. Gina's eyes flashed open,
there was a moment of fear and then pure red heat. The girls
orgasmically writhed to a mutual release, before the room dimmed back
to its previously grey-green state, as if in honour of their post-
climatic exhaustion.

Joyce woke with a start, panicked for no apparent reason. Gina slept
on silently besides her, her presence calmed Joyce's heart. She rose
and made two steaming coffees, carefully balancing the cups she
returned to the severely crumpled bed.

"Gina, coffee!" There was no response.

"Hey, lazy!"

She reached for Gina's exposed shoulder and touched it lightly; at
once her hand recoiled from the cold dead skin. She pulled back the
covers and listened at Gina's chest for something. Please anything!
She stood stiffly upright and gazed down on the uncovered torso, then
she ran to the curtains and drew the curtains widely. 

Her eyes hadn't tricked her in the dim light; from each of Gina's
wrecked buds a thin line of blood ran down the taught skin that
stretched over the gentle mounds to the sleek rib cage bellow.
Instinct made Joyce glance at her hands, the smallest trace of dried
blood was pooled on her palms close to the centre of the strange
markings. Her face a mask of pure terror Joyce fell to her knees.
Tears streamed down her frantic, contorted face.


Part two of twelve

______________________________________________________________________

Foot Notes (R)Yotna El'toub 2007
______________________________________________________________________
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
 
This story is copyrighted by the author and as such may not be
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 are attached in
full.
_____________________________________________________________________

Interested in writing, or commenting on stories?
Then pop along to Writer's Block at http://yotnasden.co.uk/Forum/
_____________________________________________________________________

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