As I’ve said several times before, I keep my page free because I can’t contribute enough to justify a monthly fee. I struggle with ADHD and it makes it hard to make regular contributions but if you like my story please, please leave a tip by following the link at the end of the story. It will take you to a secure website where you can leave your information. As I am currently unemployed any little contribution will be greatly appreciated. Hope you like my contribution to the horror genre.
In Sanguine Veritas Est.
His marriage had been over for quite some time but he was desperately trying to hold on. She wanted to live the high life but he couldn’t afford it. Their most vicious fights were always about money. She caught him off guard one morning with this statement. “I think I found a way to stop our money problems.” She paused.
“Well, what is it”
“I used to be a professional dominatrix. If I can start my business up again, I can make a lot of money.” The idea that she had been a dominatrix didn’t surprise him. He knew she had been a prostitute before they met. She was grateful that he never made that an issue in their marriage.
“What does that mean?” He didn’t know anything about what a dominatrix does.
“There’s no sex involved.” He immediately doubted that. Honesty was not her strong point. Physical monogamy was never that important to him. What was important to him was honesty and loyalty. “It’s just various forms of punishment and bondage. Some guys like to dress up as women, some like to be spanked, other things, but no sex.” She kept emphasizing no sex. “My girlfriend said I could use her dungeon space until I get on my feet. Then I could rent a space of my own and buy my own equipment.”
“Is it safe?”
“The type of guys who are into that are submissive, so there’s really no danger.”
“Okay, do it.”
“Really?” She had been expecting an argument and his quick acquiescence caught her off guard.
“Yeah, really. You can earn more money and won’t worry about money so much.” Maybe you will stop being a bitch to me was the thought he left unsaid.
She hugged him, “Thanks. I’ll be careful.” That hug was more affection than she had shown him in months. It felt hollow. He had to risk his Air Force career to get this miniscule bit of affection. Letting his wife
She took the professional name Electra. Then she put the word out to her friends that she was back in the business and began to advertise in the trade magazines. As her business expanded her confidence grew. She let him into her new world on the condition that he be submissive to her in public if they were at a bdsm function. He was intrigued by the idea. It was in his nature to be an experience junkie so he played along. He was surprised to find out that he really enjoyed playing that role. Little by little other more overt sex acts were allowed. She always asked him for permission and at that point he didn’t care. She was off his back for the most part.
As time went by, she even let him play the dominant occasionally. Not with her of course but with some of her playmates. Sometimes he liked to dominate, sometimes he liked to be dominated. He learned that was called being a switch. There was one problem though. Electra began to take over her personality. She was no longer the woman he married. She started to resent him because she wanted a true slave and he still thought of himself as her husband and her equal. This did not sit well with her as she really began to believe that women were superior to men. Their arguments stopped being about money and started to be about his unwillingness to be truly submissive to her.
The big day on the calendar for their new community was the annual convention known as The Black Rose. Put on by a social group in the DC area it was filled with kinky people not afraid to show their kinky side in public. It was a weekend of demonstrations, lectures and every night there was a big play party in the main ballroom. That was where they met.
He was on his best submissive behavior sitting on the floor next to Electra. A young woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties approached, “Hi Electra.”
“Hi Jasmine.” He tried to look at her without being obvious. She was attractive.
“What are you doing?” She asked Electra.
“Waiting for the single tail demonstration. I hear he’s really good. There’s also a Shibari demonstration later.”
“I should go to that one. One of my female subs really likes to be tied up. Maybe I can get some pointers.”
“Meet me here at three and we can go together.”
“Okay. Who is your pet?”
“That’s my husband. His name is Tom. He’s still pretty new to this so I haven’t given him a subby name yet. You can play with him if you want to.”
“Look at me.” He had been averting his eyes in a true submissive manner. Electra had taught him well. She reached under his chin and lifted his face to look her in the eyes. Mistress Jasmine looked to be in her early twenties and was dressed like goth schoolgirl. She had a red plaid skirt, black fishnet stockings, and very expensive leather platform shoes with a half dozen buckles. She was very well endowed in the chest with her breasts made more prominent by the black and red corset she wore and had ample hips. If he was fifteen years younger she would be just his type. She reached under his chin and lifted his face to look her in the eyes. “Electra told me you were in the military.” She seemed to want eye contact which was unusual for a dominatrix. He looked at her face. Under the makeup he could see the remnants of juvenile acne. Her eyes were green and her shoulder length, raven curls had streaks of blood red died into them. Even with the acne scars she made quite the impression on him.
“Yes Mistress.” He knew to answer the question and no more.
“I want to drink your blood.” She must have seen the questioning look in his eye. “I’m a vampire.” She expected his unbelieving expression and slapped him lightly on the cheek. Normally this would be unacceptable but Electra had given her permission. “I’m not a supernatural being and I’m not crazy. Don’t be so impertinent.” He had learned that was a word dominants liked to use, impertinent. He thought they believed that it gave them an air of sophistication. “I’m a mortal human that likes to drink blood. Being in the military you must be tested for disease?”
“Yes, Mistress Jasmine. I have no disease.” Contrary to her assertion, he still thought she was mentally unbalanced.
“That’s great. With your permission, Lady Electra, I’d like to get together with your husband. No sex involved, I just want a partner to satisfy my vampiric urges.”
“That’s fine with me. Even if you want to fuck him, I don’t care. We have an open relationship.” His ears perked up, she just offered him as a sex toy to this beautiful young woman and there was a chance she might except. The two dominatrixes chatted for a while about their business, their clients, and other topics and then she was gone. She faded into the crowd and he didn’t see her again for the rest of the weekend. As a matter of fact he didn’t see her again for years
He gave up trying to win his wife back. She had convinced their mutual friends that he was an abusive husband and they began to shun him. In that lifestyle single men who had no submissives were an anathema. So, he stopped trying. He stopped going to events and stopped talking to anyone in that scene
Here he was in his mid-forties, twice divorced. He spent most of his time going to twelve step meetings but even there he felt no real connection. He barely managed to get through his last year in the Air Force. His last bit of trouble resulted in his commanding officer giving him the option to retire or face punishment. He, of course, chose retirement and the whole situation just added to his sense of failure.
Coming home from work, he could hear the phone ringing. He rushed towards the phone excited because he rarely got phone calls. He picked up the phone and heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “Ed, It’s me Jasmine. Electra gave me this number. Do you remember me?” How could he not. Their brief encounter at the Black Rose had fueled many of his masturbatory fantasies.
“I remember you.”
“I wanted to know if I could see you.”
“I’m sorry. I left that lifestyle several years ago. I’m not interested in being anyone’s real life slave. That’s why Electra left me.”
There was silence on the line for a moment, “You don’t have to be my slave.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“I want to spend time with you.
The vagueness of her answer angered him. “What is that supposed to mean?” He asked sharply.
“Why don’t you go out with me and find out?”
“I really don’t go in much for the club scene and I don’t drink. What would we do?” Her vagueness was annoying him.
“We could go out to a nice restaurant. My treat. What kind of food do you like?”
This sounded like an offer to good to be true. What was her game? “When do you want to meet?”
“Friday, is Italian good for you?”
“Yeah, that will be fine.” He wrote down the address she gave him. It was in the Italian Market neighborhood.
“Pick me up at seven. Bye” He put the phone back on its cradle and turned back to the living room. His mind was racing as he sat in his favorite chair. What the fuck just happened? Why did she want to see him? What was going on? The work week dragged by as he eagerly anticipated and dreaded Friday at the same time.
Her apartment was in the small triangle created where Passyunk Avenue and Eighth Street crossed at an angle and Washington Ave made the third side of the triangle. The old Italian market was just a block away. He had circled the block three times before he saw her waiting on the sidewalk. She still had jet black hair but minus the blood red streaks. She had ditched the goth schoolgirl look and now looked like any other woman you can pass on the street. She was wearing sensible shoes, a modest skirt, and blouse in various shades of green. She couldn’t possibly know green was his favorite color. He double parked and walked around to open her door. “You look great.”
“Well thank you.”
He got back in the driver’s seat. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I know. I’ve given up the goth look. I hope you like it.”
“I do. You really look great. I wasn’t lying.”
”The restaurant is called the Victor Café. It’s on 13th and Dickinson. They have great Italian food.”
“Sounds great. I love Italian food.” They talked about the small things people talk about when they are getting to know each other. She had moved to Philadelphia with her family from California when she was sixteen and went through a big case of culture shock. “What part of California did you live in?”
“I lived in a beach town called Encinitas, half-way between Carlsbad and San Diego.”
“Yes, I know it well.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Yes I used to go there frequently. I used to surf there at Swami’s.” Swami’s beach was named after Swami Yogananda who had built a temple nearby.
“You were a surfer?’
“Well to be honest. I used to drown myself there. I was trying to learn to surf but I never got the hang of it. I used to go to the temple there also.”
“I lived there until I was sixteen but I never visited the temple. My very Christian parents would not have approved. I heard they had a beautiful meditation garden that I wanted to see but we moved here before I got the guts to defy them”
He smiled, “I don’t think your parents would have approved of your former lifestyle.”
“I learned not to care what my parents think. I have very little to do with them. We see each other a couple of times a year and I don’t discuss my private life with them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore spot.”
“It’s okay. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I don’t have very strong family ties.” He wished that he could be so nonchalant about his lack of family ties. His estranged family was always a sore spot with him. They pulled up to the restaurant and she waited as he walked around to open the door. He handed the keys to the valet and he opened the front door “We have a reservation for two under the name Clara Dunn.” He was glad she had said her name. They had arrived a little early so the hostess asked them to wait in the upstairs lounge.
One corner of the room was decorated with pictures of Sylvester Stallone as his character Rocky. The sign said one of the Rocky movies filmed here at this restaurant.”
“That is so cool. Did you know that?”
“I come here often so yes I did know that. I thought you might like dining on a movie set.”
“I do. Would you like a drink?” He asked.
“This is my treat remember. I’ll get you a drink. What do you want?”
“Just a Diet Coke, please.” She walked over to the bar and got a glass of wine and a Coke. He sat on a couch near the bar and she handed him his drink. “May I call you Clara?”
“Of course you can. That’s my name.”
“I know but, in the scene, no one uses their real name. To me you were Jasmine.”
“I’m not in the bdsm scene any more. I really want to make that clear. I would really like you to call me Clara. I stopped being Jasmine several years ago.”
“What do you do for a living now?”
“I’m a registered nurse. I left the scene to go to nursing school. Now I can legally make a decent living.”
“How do you like being a nurse?”
“It’s great. I love it. I get to really help people and I get to help myself.”
“You really like to help people?”
“Of course.”
“It just seems strange to me, given your previous profession.”
“Why is it weird? As a dominatrix I always helped my clients. Some men really need to let go, to give up total control to someone. That’s how I helped my clients.”
“Where does the beating part come in?”
“I never understood it myself but my submissives seem to derive pleasure from the pain so I did it for them. I never judged anyone’s kink even if it was something I didn’t like. I actually had a female submissive that would orgasm when I twisted her nipples.” He looked around hoping no one heard her. “I guess they are wired that way.” He mulled this over for a few seconds until she asked him, “May I ask you a personal question?”
“I think you know all my dirty secrets but go ahead and ask.”
“What have you been doing since you and Electra broke up?”
“Just working, not much of anything else.”
“No, I meant do you have a girlfriend?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“I’m curious to know about you.” This made him suspicious. He was a good-looking guy but she was still out of his league and much younger on top of that. There seemed to be a game going on and he didn’t know the rules. Why would she want to know about him?
“No I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Have you had much sex?”
“Don’t you think you’re going to far?”
“I think I deserve to know your sexual history if we’re going to have sex.” He almost choked on his Diet Coke when she said that.
“Excuse me. When did we say we were having sex?” Before Clara could answer the hostess approached and told them their table was ready. They descended the stairs into the main dining room and followed the hostess to their table.
When they were seated Clara said, “Feel free to order anything on the menu. I want you to enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you.” When they he took a long look at her face. The acne had cleared up and that made her more beautiful. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of green. She seemed to welcome his appraisal of her face and the resultant smile showed some of the whitest, straightest teeth he had ever seen.
He looked at the menu to see what he might order. He wanted Linguine ai Frutti di Mare, linguine with the fruit of the sea and Clara ordered, “I’ll have the mushroom ravioli, please and bring me a bottle of your Barbera de’Alba Furet. I’m feeling decadent.”
“Will that be all, ma’am?”
“Yes that will be all.” She handed the menu back to the waitress and he followed suit.
“This is a nice place.”
“Yes, that’s why I come here often.” To his surprise one of the wait staff announced that the music would be starting soon.
“Music?”
“Yes music, wait and see.”
Another member of the waitstaff stepped onto the three steps between the two halves of the dining room. “Good evening ladies and gentleman. I will now perform for you the canzone from Rigoletto, La Donna e Mobile, which translated to English means the woman is fickle.” Tom smiled ruefully at the title of the song. That was definitely his experience of women.
Rigoletto was probably his favorite opera. When he was a child he saw a production on television with Pavarotti singing the lead role. “Are you an opera fan?”
“I used to have an older boyfriend who really loved opera. I gained an appreciation of the art from him.” His ears perked up when she said older. Did she have a thing for older men? She couldn’t possibly be romantically interested in him. They had only met briefly one time years ago.
“I like some opera but I don’t really know too much about it.”
“I wanted to bring you here because you seemed the type that might be interested in opera.”
“I like it but I just never learned much about it. When the three tenors did their concert in Rome I watched it on PBS ”
“I remember that, at the Baths of Caracalla. It was fabulous.” They laughed together at their shared experience.
“Have you ever been to Rome?” he asked.
“No I haven’t but its on my bucket list.”
“Oh, you have a bucket list. What else is on it?”
“Mostly places to travel, Tibet, Ireland, India, Tokyo.”
“I love to travel.”
“Do you have a bucket list?”
“I did, but now I’m trying to get a new one.”
“Why?”
“Because I did most of the things on my old list.”
“What was on your bucket list?”
“Things like skydiving, whitewater rafting, places like China, Ireland, India.”
“You’ve done all that?”
“Yes, I have.”
“That must have been incredible.”
“It was.”
“What have you added to your bucket list?”
“Angkor Wat, in Cambodia, bungee jumping the Royal Gorge Bridge.”
“Bungee jumping is too crazy for me..”
“I’m a thrill seeker. That’s the reason I went along with Electra’s lifestyle for a while.” The conversation petered out when the waitress brought their food. He watched her eating and tried to be discrete. She seemed to have a healthy appetite and was not shy about digging into her plate. He liked that about her.
When they were done eating she asked, “Do you want dessert?”
“Sure but I’m sure it won’t be anything as sweet as you.” Her laugh at this sappy line seemed genuine and he was surprised. A woman of her caliber must have heard all the pickup lines. They ordered dessert and waited for the waitress to return.
“Are you coming back to my place?”
“I don’t think I have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I don’t accept your offer, I would never forgive myself and even if it’s just a one night stand it will be well worth it to be with such an incredibly beautiful woman.” The waitress placed their desserts on the table.
“Oh stop.” She said.
“No you stop. You are beautiful and you know it.” She laughed briefly at that. “I never have tried Tira Misu.”
“Oh, really? Here try some.” She offered a forkful of the coffee flavored cake and fed it into his open mouth. The intimate act of eating off her fork was not lost on him.
“That’s very good. I should have ordered that.” She spoon-fed him the rest of her dessert. “Now I’m too full to eat my dessert.” He paused for a moment. “Thank you for bringing me here. The opera, the food and you. If this is a one night stand it will stay with me forever.”
“I have enjoyed your company. It might not be just a one-night stand. That will be your choice. Let’s wait and see.” When he saw her give the waitress her credit card his conscience twinged a little. He wasn’t comfortable being taken care of but he kept quiet. Then valet brought the car around and he opened the door to let her in. The drive back to her apartment was quiet but his mind was racing. He still didn’t quite believe her. There must be some kind of catch. Were they really going back to her place to screw around? Why did she pick him? She was beautiful enough to get someone her own age and he wasn’t wealthy enough to be her sugar daddy. His mind went into overdrive with all these questions.
When they arrived she unlocked the door and led him into a little vestibule facing a narrow set of stairs. She checked the mailbox on the wall. “The other side of the building is a business property. That’s why there’s no doors on the first floor on this side of the building. This used to be my business address but I liked it so much I stayed after I stopped seeing clients.” She opened the door to her apartment and turned on the lights. The room they entered was surprisingly spacious and was decorated with modern minimalist furniture. This room was a combination living room, dining room and kitchen and one side of the room was a floor to ceiling window. Clara reached over and picked up a remote and the curtains slowly parted to reveal a stunning view of the Center City skyline with One Liberty Place standing the tallest.
“That is gorgeous.”
“That’s why I couldn’t leave. I didn’t grow up here but I love Philadelphia. That view, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Please sit down.” She pointed to the sofa facing one wall and the largest television he had ever seen. The end tables looked like copper cable reels and the coffee table had a copper lattice covered in glass. The wood was a deep reddish brown that he couldn’t identify. He sat on the couch and the television turned itself on. The Phillies were playing but the television switched to playing smooth jazz. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Do you have any diet soda?”
“Yes, I have some Diet Coke. Would that do?”
“That would be great.” She brought him a glass filled with ice and soda and laid it on a sandstone coaster on the coffee table.
“Please keep it on the coaster. I hate water rings on the glass.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” She sat down next to him and looked at his face.
“You are handsome.”
“I am what I am and you’re still out of my league. So, please tell me why I’m here.”
“You’re here because I want you here.”
“For what? Sex? You could get that anytime from someone quite a bit younger than me.”
“I’ve always had a thing for older men. Why is that so hard to believe?” He wanted to believe here but he couldn’t before he could say anything else she put her hand behind his neck and pulled him to her in a kiss. The act was forceful but gentle at the same time. For half a second he resisted and then he gave in. Her tongue’s dexterity and the sweet taste of her lip gloss took his breath away. After what seemed like forever she broke the kiss and said, “Let me slip into something more comfortable.” They both laughed at this hackneyed expression. She went into the other room which he could only assume was her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
A few minutes later he heard the door open and when he turned around she was standing in the doorway completely naked. He could see that for her that was more comfortable. She was displaying herself to him without any hesitancy or shyness. She had one arm stretched out overhead and she was leaning against the door frame. Her breasts were plentiful and looked like they were on the verge of sagging but still held onto their youthful appearance. He hips were full and the lips of her sex peaked out from behind a tuft of deep black hair that matched the color on her head.
He stood up and turned around so he was facing her. She didn’t say a word but just waited patiently in the doorway. He snapped to and realized she was waiting for him. Without a word he went to her. When he entered the room she pulled the door closed. She kissed him fiercely and grabbed him by the waist of his pants. He pulled his shirt over his head as she undid his pants. She helped him disrobe and pushed him onto her bed. She kissed him again and made him lay back as she swiftly mounted him.
The colors of the room took on a vibrant hue, so bright it almost hurt his eyes. Clara’s features began to distort and took on aspects of a wild panther. Her features darkened and the mane of jet-black hair shortened and took over her entire body. “What the fuck?” his mind screamed but no sound came out. The panther’s claws rake his chest and the pain was intense. Clara growled like a feral animal and let out a howl as her orgasm hit. She did not stop rocking her hips until Tom had the most powerful orgasm of his life. In the aftermath of his mind-blowing orgasm his mind barely registered the sharp pain in his neck.
The sun streaming into the room woke him to an incredible headache. It felt like the worse hangover he ever had, multiplied by ten. How could that be? He hadn’t touched a drop in over twenty years. He sat up on the edge of the bed, naked and rubbed his temples, trying to ease the throbbing headache but it did no good. Where the fuck were his clothes? He rummaged around in the bedding and found his boxers and put them on. That bitch must have drugged me, He looked over his shoulder to see her side of the bed empty and then he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He reached out to feel it with his hand and was surprised to feel a bandage taped there.
He heard the doorknob rattle and saw her enter the room. She was wearing a robe but he could see she was naked under the robe. He quickly looked away . He didn’t want her to think he was still interested in her. Rage welled up in him and he wanted to choke her, but when he tried to get up a wave of dizziness hit and he fell back onto the bed. “That would be the aftereffects of the drug I gave you.”
“You bitch, what the fuck did you do to me?”
‘Relax. I just gave you the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life didn’t I? You should be thanking me.”
“Thank you for drugging me? And what the fuck happened to my neck?”
“The drug I gave you enhances all your senses, sort of like LSD but less dangerous. It also makes your orgasm more intense and last longer. Even for men. You got a little cut. I cleaned and bandaged it so it wouldn’t’ get infected.”
He was so angry that he didn’t even notice that she didn’t really answer the question. She got closer to the bed and he tried to grab her. He couldn’t keep his balance and fell on the floor. “C’mon tiger. You should really stay in bed until the effects wear off completely. I can bring you breakfast. There’s a diner right across the street. They know me and will bring over anything you want. The bathroom mis through the door there.” As she helped him back into the bed she lightly patted his penis and he was mad at himself for beginning to get aroused. “What would you like for breakfast, my sweet?” It irked him that she called him her sweet but he suddenly felt ravenous and he didn’t want to miss breakfast. “You just lay down and relax. I’ll bring the food in here.” She left the room and closed the door behind her.
True to her word she returned in a half hour with a tray heaped with all his breakfast favorites. She put a pitcher of coffee and a container of orange juice on the nightstand. “I never wear clothes at home and the delivery boys fight over who gets to deliver my food. Go ahead. Dig in.” She took off her robe and went into the bathroom. He could hear the water running as she turned on the shower. He thought of the water running down her naked body then the thought immediately followed, what is wrong with me. She was right. He had the most incredible orgasm in his life and it seemed to go on forever in a haze of bright colors and shifting shapes. He hadn’t tripped like that since he was in college. What the serious fuck? She came back to the room, naked except for the small towel wrapped around her head. He was mesmerized by her naked body and could not take his eyes off of her.
“Do you like what you see?”
“That’s a silly question and really beneath you. Of course I like what I see, but you knew that.” She pouted at the slight rebuke and her lips contorted into an exaggerated frown. “Really? You’re not going to get to me with those old tricks. I didn’t hurt your feelings and you’re not the victim. Do I have to remind you that you lured me into your apartment and drugged me so you could have sex with me?”
She smiled, that wasn’t the real reason. “Do you have to say it like that? You make me sound like a sexual predator.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I think the law would think different.”
“So, what are you going to do? Turn me in?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Then let me help you decide.” She slid the blanket off the bed and began another round of lovemaking, more leisurely and less explosive but still among the best he had ever had. Several hour later he laid back exhausted. She gave him the energy of s much younger man. “Do you want to shower before you go?”
“Sure.” He stood up, surprised that his balance and strength had returned.
“Clean towels are on the rack and toiletries in the cabinet.” She gave him a gentle push towards the bathroom. “I’ll lay your clothes out on the bed for you and wait in the living room.” He went to the shower and turned on the shower. The jets of water stung deliciously and he let the hot water massage his body. In all his life he had never had such a dilemma. She was everything he had ever found exciting. She was young, intelligent, cultured but she was also devious and manipulative. And what the fuck did she do to his neck? She had never answered that question. His anger returned full force at that memory. When he couldn’t take the water anymore, he got out and began to dry off. What was he going to do? She had his clothes from the previous night laid out on the bed and he dressed in silence.
She was lying nude on the sofa watching the local news. He felt a stir in his groin. Oh for fuck sake what is wrong with me. He picked up his keys from the table and headed towards the door. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“You’re lucky I don’t kill you.”
“Come on, Tom, you had a great time. I didn’t hear you complain when I fucked you just now. You could have left. You didn’t. You want me as much as I want you.”
“Don’t bet on it. Don’t bother to call me. I won’t be coming back.”
“I have a feeling you will. Call me when you come to your senses.” She smiled slightly. “Here’s my number when you change you mind.” She handed him a business card that had her name and phone number on it. He couldn’t believe her nerve. She actually said when like he was definitely coming back. He was going to stay as far away from this bitch as possible. He turned and hurriedly left the apartment.
2
Several weeks passed by. He tried to keep her out of his mind but that just had the opposite effect. The harder he tried, the more she dominated his thoughts. Every inch of her naked body, the raven hair, the green eyes, that’s all he thought about. The mind blowing orgasm really was greater than any he had ever had. He couldn’t determine whether it was the lust he had for her or the drug she slipped him or a combination of the two. In a quieter moment he decided it was definitely a combination of the two. During the first few weeks he remained resolute but as time lengthened, his resolve faltered. He dialed her number several times but he would hang up before the phone rang.
“Hello.” He had wavered too long and she had answered the phone.
“Hello,” he stammered.
“Oh, Hello Tom. So nice to hear from you. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever hear from you again. I was sad. I thought we had a beautiful time together.”
“We did. I just wasn’t prepared for the other stuff.”
“What other stuff Tom?”
“You know what I mean, the drugs, whatever you did to my neck. Don’t play games.”
“I do many things Tom but playing head games is never one of them. You should know that by now. What other things are you talking about?”
“The drugs and whatever you did to my neck. It hurt for two weeks.”
“I’m sorry Tom.” She said with a mocking tone.” “I’m sure I told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That I was a vampire. I told you that when Electra introduced us.”
“So you cut my neck to suck my blood?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re fucking insane.”
“You will not talk to me that way,” she said loudly using her dominatrix voice. “It is your decision whether we continue to see each other but I will not tolerate any kind of anger or abuse. Do it again and you will never see me again.”
Her angry tone short circuited his anger. “I’m, I’m sorry.” He stammered.
“What did you call for?”
“I was going to ask to see you again.”
“You were, were you?” her tone softened. “You might not believe me but our last date was the nicest I’ve had in quite a while. I was hoping that you would call sooner. I’m glad that you finally did. Did you want to see me again?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, call me when you do know,” and she abruptly hung up the phone.
He sat on the chair next to the phone for quite a while, his mind racing. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever slept with but she was off her rocker. She actually thought she was a fucking vampire. He didn’t think he had to change his sobriety date because he was drugged without his knowledge but she was dangerous. If she was willing to drug him, what else was she willing to do? Again he decide to stay away from her.
His days went by in dreary monotony. He spent most of his time between his house and work. Meetings had become rare. He compounded his loneliness by isolating. When he was alone Clara dominated his thoughts and his masturbatory fantasies. The days turned into weeks. The weeks turned into months. It was almost a year when he finally broke down and called. The sound of her voice almost took his breath away.
“Hello.”
“Hi Clara. It’s me Tom.”
“Tom, It’s been such a long time. I thought we were done.”
“To be honest, I’m afraid of you and I’m afraid of how I am when I’m with you.”
“There’s no need to be afraid. I would never seriously hurt you. The cut on your neck has healed and you can barely see the scar.” A touch of amusement was evident in her voice.
“It’s not funny.”
“C’mon Tom, a big guy like you being afraid of a little woman like me? You have to admit, that’s a little funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Tom, I told you not to call again unless you wanted to see me. Did you just call to waste my time?”
“No, no. I did want to see you. Please.”
“Fine. Be at my place at seven Friday night. One minute late and I don’t answer the door.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
“Goodbye Tom. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t be late.” He hung up the phone with a sense of anticipatory dread. Was this really what he wanted, a relationship with a psycho woman? If you left out the bloodsucking she was everything he wanted, young, beautiful, intelligent but her vampire delusion was not something you could just overlook. She was definitely dangerous. His mind flip-flopped a hundred times waiting for Friday to arrive. He was unsure up to the time he arrived at her apartment and stood at her door. As he reached up to knock, the door opened.
“Hi, Tom, so glad you made it. Come in and sit down. The apartment hasn’t changed since the last time you were here.” She answered the door in the nude. She could see his surprise. ”I told you I never wear clothes at home. I’ll be right back. You can undress if you like or do you want to wait until I undress you?”
“Uh..”
“I thought you wanted to fuck me again?”
“I do. I do but I’m just not used to moving so fast.”
“Alright, I’ll slow down. Do you want a drink? I have a pretty well stocked bar. Help yourself. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the bedroom. In his nervousness, concern about sobriety went right out the window. He went to the bar and was surprised to see a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, very expensive Scotch whiskey. He poured himself several fingers, downed it quickly and poured another. He went to the mini fridge and grabbed some ice. He planned to sip this one. He sat on the sofa to wait for her to return.
When she returned she had thrown on a floor length caftan in several shades of blue. “Does this make you more comfortable?”
“Yes, actually it does, and this helps.” He lifted his glass in her direction.
“I’m glad you are more comfortable.”
“I just threw away ten years of sobriety.”
“I’m so sorry for you.”
“No need to be sorry. You didn’t force the scotch down my throat. It felt good.”
“So why are you here Tom.”
“I’m here to see you.”
“Well, you’ve seen me, now what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She reached over and ran her hand up his thigh.
“You have to take the drug I give you. It releases your inhibitions and increases your pleasure.”
“Will you feed on me again?”
“Yes, I will but if you don’t want me too. You are free to go. I’m not forcing you to stay but if you stay you will be my meal. If you leave you will not have another opportunity.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I need to feed and you are a healthy source of sustenance. You’re not bad on the eyes and you are fairly intelligent. I don’t want to feed on stupid people.” She was complimenting his intelligence but he was starting to feel really stupid for coming back. He should have listened to his inner warnings.
“Okay, let’s do it. I’m ready.” She handed him a pill and he washed it down with scotch. “How long does it take?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes. Just relax and let it take over your mind.” He tried to relax but was still tense. When the drug hit, it heightened his paranoia but she was reassuring him softly. “You’ll be fine. Just breathe deeply.” She took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. Their lovemaking was a repeat of the first time and it ended with another huge intense orgasm. He seemed to be more lucid though. He saw the silver nail she had put on her index finger. It must have been razor sharp because he barely felt it as it she opened up a small incision on his inner thigh. She lowered her mouth to the incision and he could feel her sucking on his inner thigh. Her hair brushed against him and in spite of their recent love making he began to get hard again. When she raised her head he could see his blood dripping down her chin and when she kissed him he could taste the copper-like taste of his own blood.
He awoke to the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. “I got your favorites.” She called from the living room. “Come in and eat.” He dressed quickly and
He sat at the table as she served him. He noticed she didn’t put out any food for herself. “What about you? Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m usually not hungry after feeding. I’ll eat something later.” She served him. The term feeding made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t think of himself as food but there it was. Her service was also unsettling. He was not used to being waited on by a dominant woman. In the world that Electra introduced him to this would never be allowed. After dishing out his breakfast she went into the bedroom and closed the door. He ate enjoying the morning quiet. The silence was broken by a loud caw. Startled, he turned to the window to see a large crow that appeared to be staring right at him. The crow stood there for what seemed to him a long time then opened its wings and flew away. The peace that he was feeling evaporated with the flaps of the crow’s wings and he hurriedly finished his meal. She reentered the living room dressed in a short summer dress that showed much leg and cleavage. He took a deep breath. She was so beautiful.
“When can I see you again?”
“The amount of blood I’m taking is not harmful but I would wait at least two weeks to give your body enough time to make more red blood cells. You’re a grown man. It’s up to you. Call me whenever you like and we can get together.”
“Do you always have to feed?” He couldn’t believe he was using that word so casually.
“Yes, that’s the deal. You get to have me for the night and I get to feed. That’s a fair trade isn’t it? I give you my body and you give me your body. I didn’t hear any complaints last night.”
“Yes it was fun but I think I’m paying a higher price.”
“Look, I can understand how you might feel that way but I’m not forcing you to do anything. You don’t have to come back if you don’t want to, but if you want to call me.” The conversation was over. She walked him to the door and he left, not knowing whether he would ever see her again. He was scared of her but she was telling the truth. She wasn’t holding him captive.
He tried to be strong and forget about her, but almost every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of her. He lasted three months before he broke down and called.
“Meet me at the apartment, Friday at seven. Don’t be late.”
“Okay, I won’t.” After that meeting he gave up all the pretense of resistance. He was there every other Friday. The sex was always incredible and she served him breakfast every Saturday morning. If their meetings didn’t include her feeding on him he thought he could be very happy. The thought of her began to invade his dreams. As time went on the dreams became more frightening and violent. She looked like Elizabeth Bathory, standing before his lifeless body, upper torso bathed in his blood, blood dripping from fangs that she grew in his dreams. He would wake up from these dreams with the sheets soaked in sweat, barely remembering what had disturbed him so in his sleep.
The company he worked for had a round of downsizing and he was let go. They gave him a small bit of a severance package that he thought might last him a few months. On Saturday morning as she served breakfast her told Clara. “I lost my job.”
“That’s too bad. How will you support yourself?”
“I have my military retirement and I’ll have to get a job until I’m old enough to collect social security. They gave me a little bit of a severance package. If I don’t find a job by then I might be able to get unemployment.”
“You can stay her. The sofa folds out into a bed. We can keep our arrangement. I won’t charge you rent.” He thought about it. It would be nice to be here all the time with Clara but his pride wouldn’t let him.
The job search went on longer that he had expected and he started to run out of money. He didn’t have enough money to pay his rent that month. Reluctantly he went to Clara, “Is your offer still available?”
“My offer to stay here? Of course. I’ll give you the spare key. You can stay here as long as you want. Free of charge. Every other Friday will still be our special night.” He was relieved that he would have a place to stay but her mention of their special Friday nights filled him with dread. When the time came, he sold his furniture and moved his things into Clara’s apartment. He asked her if he could put an antique armoire he had had for many years in the living room for his clothes along with an exercise bike. She gave him permission and in a few days he was moved in.
“My days working at the hospital rotate but I always workday shift. My shift starts at seven, sorry if that disturbs you but I have to work. You can have anything in the fridge. If we run out just let me know and I’ll get more at the grocery store.”
“Oh no, don’t worry. I am an early riser anyway. You won’t disturb me.” As the days went by he began to enjoy being woken by her. Her scrubs were skin tight and showed off her curves, as if he needed any help thinking about her curves. His waking thoughts were dominated by images of Clara as a naughty nurse but his dream world was one still one of terror and dread. In his dreams, the blood soaked image of Clara would whip him with a bull whip until his back and legs dripped blood from the wounds. Gone were the images of sexual pleasure. They were replaced by scenes of torture and pain. His sense of dread while in the waking world intensified.
Three weeks into their housing arrangements, Clara came home with a stunning woman. “This is Heather, my girlfriend.” Clara introduced her companion. He tried not to be obvious but he couldn’t help eying her. She was more even voluptuous than Clara, with fiery red hair and similar green eyes. Clara said nothing else and they quickly disappeared into the bedroom with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. It took him by surprise because she had never mentioned being attracted to women. He never thought to ask and really it was none of his business. He sat down on the sofa and wondered who she was.
Minutes later, he heard the sounds of their lovemaking coming from the bedroom. Heather was loud and didn’t try to hide her pleasure. He was immediately aroused by the sounds of passion and resisted the urge to pleasure himself. He sat there alone wishing he were somewhere else. The lovemaking continued off and on for the rest of the night and he got little sleep. It was about four AM when Heather walked into the room. She was surprised to see him awake. “Oh, I didn’t think you would be awake.”
“How could I not be? You put on quite a show.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I get carried away sometimes.” She seemed to be a little embarrassed and he let her sit with that. She went to the refrigerator and took out a tray of cheese and another bottle of wine. “I’m starving.”
“You must have worked up a good appetite.”
“Yes we did.”
He wanted to ask her about her relationship with Clara but held back. He wanted to know if she fed on Heather too. He had to fight the urge to be possessive. Clara didn’t belong to him.
“We’ve been together off and on for about two years now. She told me about you.”
He was surprised to hear her say that. “What did she tell you about me?”
“That you two were lovers. That you were staying here for a while. I don’t mind of you two fuck when I’m not here. I don’t own Clara.” He smiled at her unknowingly echoing the thought he had just had. “That’s all she told me.”
“There’s nothing more to tell. We met years ago and recently reconnected. Nothing serious.”
“That’s good to know.”
“What’s taking so long. I’m hungry.” Clara’s voice came from the bedroom.
“Okay, Okay, I’m coming. Take it easy.” She reached over and kissed him on the forehead. He laid back down on the sofa thinking he might be able to sleep now but the sounds of their lovemaking soon resumed. He groaned into his pillow and tossed and turned for the rest of the night. He finally fell asleep as the first rays of the dawn sun began to stream through the window.
When he woke Clara had already left for work and Heather was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know how Clara did it. She was up all night and left for work early this morning. He couldn’t do that. He would be dead. After he made breakfast, he puttered around the house trying to decide what to do with himself. He turned on the television and got on the stationary bike but that didn’t last long. He quickly lost interest because he couldn’t concentrate on anything.
He thought of her room and when he tried the door was surprised to see it was unlocked. He felt like such a loser snooping in her room. He looked in the nightstand drawer and found a vibrator and a dildo but what interested him more was a photograph. It was a candid photo of Clara and Heather. They were sitting at a table across from each holding hands. Looking in each other’s eyes, they really looked like they were in love. Who took this picture. He wondered how he fit in. He knew she didn’t love him. He was never that deluded but he was confused. How could she fuck him all the time and be in love with Heather?
When Clara came home he asked, “Can we talk?”
“Of course we can. What did you want to talk about?”
“I want to fuck you.”
“Sweetie, we fuck all the time. What are you talking about?”
“Every other Friday is not enough. I want more.”
“You know the deal. It’s not healthy for you.”
“I don’t care. Fuck me now. I’m healthy. I’ll be alright.”
She hesitated and for a brief moment he thought she would say no. “Okay,” she said finally. “But not tonight. We’ll increase our liaisons to every Friday night, but no more. No matter how healthy you are I won’t risk it.” He was disappointed but she did agree to see him more often. She really seemed to be concerned for his health too.
They fell into a routine. Clara would bring Heather home two or three nights a week. Their lovemaking seemed even louder than it was the first time. Then she would spend every Friday night with him. She made every effort to make their lovemaking more romantic. She would light candles and incense, wear sexy lingerie and perfume. She wore patchouli, his absolute favorite. She seemed to know that her relationship with Heather bothered him
On Saturday mornings she was attentive and always served him a huge breakfast, with fresh squeezed orange juice and gourmet coffee. He would always wake up from his drug induced stupor with a new scar somewhere on his body, evidence that she never gave up the opportunity to feed. The rest of the week his nights were increasingly filled with bloody nightmares filled with every vampire cliché he could imagine. Celluloid visions of every vampire movie he had ever seen bathed in oceans of blood.
He looked into the bedroom to see Clara’s bed had transformed itself into an altar. Four naked women came out and led him into the bedroom. Their only adornment were elaborate headresses of feathers and flowers. They made him lay down on the altar and they quickly tied his four limbs to the four corners of the altar. A man entered the room, dressed in a loin cloth and with a headdress of fur and the horns of a long horn sheep. One of the women led a lamb into the room and another carried a large bowl made of brass. Seemingly from distance a drum kept a slow steady beat.
He strained against the ropes that held him to the altar but he could not break free. The man with the headdress bent over and reached under the altar for something. He couldn’t see what he was doing until he rose up with a long dagger. His heart beat hard in his chest as he thought the dagger was meant for him but the women led the lamb forward and held it neck over the bowl. The sound of its bleating filled the room as the lamb struggled to free itself. The dagger quickly found it’s mark as the man cut the lambs throat and the women directed the gushing blood into the bowl. The lamb’s cloven hooves thrashed around but quickly stilled as its life ran out with the blood entering the bowl.
When the flow of blood stopped two of the women lifted the bowl and placed it next to him on the altar. He began to struggle again but quickly tired himself out. The man, who he now thought of as the priest, dipped his hand into the blood of the lamb and moved toward him. Tom tried to move his head to avoid having the blood smeared so close to his mouth but he couldn’t stop the priest from anointing his lips with blood in the sign of the cross. The drumbeats stopped when the priest began to paint symbols on his chest and stomach. When he finished one of the women handed the dagger to him. Tom looked in terror at the bloodstained dagger, sure that this was the end. The silence was broken by the priest as he recited something in a language that he didn’t understand. The tip of the dagger tracing the symbols written in blood. He could feel the coolness of the blade and desperately held still awaiting the end. He stopped struggling and accepted his fate.
“Tom, I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to ask you to do something.” It was Clara and he could tell it was early morning by the sunlight just barely starting to stream through the curtains. He was still unsure if the dream was real or not.
He leaned groggily on his elbows. “I’m sorry. I’m still half asleep, Clara. What do you want me to do?”
“There’s a repairman coming to replace the lighting fixture over the bed an I need you to let him in and stay until he’s finished. Is that okay?”
“Sure, I can do that.” As soon as the front closed behind her he rushed to the bedroom. The bed was there, neatly made up like always. There were no signs of blood or goat entrails. It must have been a dream but it seemed so real. He wondered if the drug she had given him could produce flashbacks like LSD. After the repairman finished installing the light fixture, he decided to go out for a walk.
He walked through the Market on Ninth Street, by the restaurants and shops with Italian specialties and thinking about the dreams he had been having. Were they a result of the drugs or was he losing his mind? He looked into the window of a butcher shop that specialized in game meat. There were whole rabbit carcasses in the refrigerated case by the window. The sign in window advertised deer and quail, pheasant and other non-traditional meats. He had eaten rabbit when he was in the military but he had never seen it like this, whole, prior to being cooked. He stared, fascinated as the rabbit carcasses began to move. The butcher behind the counter was carving up what looked to be beef but could have been anything. The man had his head down, diligently attending to his work, careful to keep his hands clear of the razor sharp knife. He looked up and Tom fell back from the window. It was the priest from his dream. He smiled a sinister smile at Tom and pointed his knife at him. Tom’s mind raced. This couldn’t be. It was a dream. It was a dream. The light from the midday sun began to dim until he was left in complete darkness. He could no longer see the window right next to him.
He looked up and could only see one small point of light, far in the distance. The pinpoint of light grew larger like he headlamp of a train in an old Warner Brother’s cartoon but it wasn’t a train. It was an aperture opening up on a surrealist landscape of melted objects and horrifying monsters. The opening widened until it took up his whole field of vision. There were mountains in the distance that looked like half melted candles and trees that grew at unnatural angles in colors he had never seen in trees, purple, scarlet, cyan.
On the periphery of his vision, he saw movement. He turned to the right to see what was moving and saw a terrifying figure ten feet tall. It had an equine head with a mane of golden hair and teeth like an enormous crocodile. It was vaguely human and stood on two legs. At the end of its arms were huge claws that looked big enough to tear apart a cow. It was wearing flowing robes of deep read and gold. The figure saw him move and started to advance toward him. In a panic he started to retreat. His slid back against the concrete sidewalk and could feel the abrasions. The creature kept coming until it towered over him. He couldn’t get away. It let loose a sound so terrifying that it almost broke him. He cowered in fear, sure that this would be the end.
“Hey mister, are you ok.” A man with a bloody apron stood over him. “I saw you fall from the window of my shop.” Tom was sitting on the sidewalk outside the butcher shop, looking up at the man who was offering to help him. He no longer bore any resemblance to the priest of his dream. He used the man’s proffered arm to help himself up.
“Thank you. I’m alright.”
“Are you sure Mister? I can get you a glass of water.”
“No seriously, I’m okay. I live just around the corner. I can walk. Thank you anyway. I’ll be alright. I’ll go straight home and lay down.”
“Okay, be careful walking. If you feel weak sit down.”
“I will. Thank you again.” He walked slowly home and laid down on the sofa. He fell asleep watching the afternoon soap operas. He had given them up years ago but now he was oddly comforted by General Hospital. He dozed fitfully and he couldn’t shake the image of the priest’s face.
Clara woke him up bending over the sofa to kiss him on the forehead. She had taken to making little signs of affection like that. “Tom, your forehead is burning hot. Are you okay?” He sat up to talk to her.
“I feel a little achy.”
“That’ s not good. Heather’s busy tonight so I’m free. Why don’t you let me take care of you? I’ll mix you up something that will make you feel incredible.” He didn’t have the energy to keep up his side of the conversation, but she didn’t seem to mind. She kept up the chatter as she went to the kitchen and filled up the teapot with water. “It’s like tea. It’s good for many things.” She reached into cabinet and retrieved a box. She filled a tea diffuser with some of the contents of the box . The whistle on the teapot began to scream so she turned off the stove and filled a cup with the boiling water. “This has to sit for a few minutes. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready. Are you hungry?”
“No, not really.”
“You should eat a little something. How about some toast and jam? I have raspberry and apricot.” It no longer made him wonder how she knew that those were his two favorites. He just accepted the fact that she knew a lot more about him than he thought he had revealed.
“ I’ll have the raspberry. Thank you.” She came into the living room and placed a small plate with two slices of toast and a cup filled with the tea she had made. Hear you go sweetheart. Eat up.” She sat next to him on the sofa.
“Thank you so much.” He ate the toast in silence as she watched him.
After a few minutes she ventured. “Stress can damage your immune system, you know.” She said softly.
“I know but I can’t help it. I need to find a new job. I can’t stay here forever, sponging off of you.”
“You can stay here as long as you want. You don’t eat much and you don’t take up much room.” She playfully nudged him in the ribs.
“I know, but I don’t want to be a burden .”
“You are not a burden. You are a great roomie. I wish I had contacted you much sooner than I did.”
“What the hell do you want with me? You’re in love with Heather.”
“If I was in love with Heather, she would be here and you would be gone. Don’t be so insecure.”
“You certainly don’t love me. You’re just using me.” He sipped the tea that she had
“I’m using you? I thought we had a mutually beneficial relationship?”
“We do, but I can’t help thinking that you are receiving more of the benefits.”
“My feelings for you are complicated but it’s nonsense for you to believe that I don’t have feelings for you.”
“I think you treat me like a pet so you can bleed me every Friday night. What are you?”
“What do you mean by “what am I?”
“What are you? I mean obviously you are a woman, to me a very beautiful woman, but there has to be more than that. What makes an otherwise normal woman think that she has to drink blood and how did you learn about the drugs that you use on me? What are you?”
“If you’re asking me whether I’m a supernatural being, I think you know the answer to that. I’m just an ordinary, human woman. I learned herbal craft from a bruja in the Yucatan. She taught me everything I know. It’s not hard to learn if you have a teacher as knowledgeable as mine was.” He thought that she might be telling the truth but the idea that she was completely insane wouldn’t leave him. She didn’t show any of the signs of vampirism that he grew up with. She walked in the sunlight. She cooked with garlic. She even wore a crucifix.
“Ordinary women don’t drink blood.”
“That’s true.” She hesitated. “But in most other ways I’m ordinary. I can’t explain to you why I need blood. It doesn’t make sense to me either but there it is. I noticed my desire when I had my first period. It’s amazing what guys will let you do for a hand job.” She paused as if to carefully consider her next words. “Look, you’re a nice guy. I do like you but a deal is a deal. If you don’t want me to feed anymore you’re always free to leave. I’m not holding you captive.”
“When I find a job, I’ll get a place of my own.”
“There’s no need to rush. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Just think of me as your sugar momma.” She giggled and punched him playfully on the arm. He knew she was joking but it didn’t feel right. He never had a woman take care of him. He felt uncomfortable being a kept man. He tried to be less of a neandertal when it came to women but he couldn’t let go of the idea that he was supposed to be taking care of her. It was the man’s job. Part of him knew that was nonsense but that was the way he was raised and he couldn’t let it go.
The weeks passed by and what had been bizarre became routine. She never complained about him not having a job and he never brought the topic up. She would ask him how his day went but nothing further. Sometimes, she would ask him to go to the grocery store or the Target. She asked him what he wanted from the grocery store. They would watch movies together when she was home. Heather was still a frequent house guest and he found out she was still purposely loud to disturb his sleep. If it wasn't for the bloodletting their life together would be normal, two roommates who sometimes shared benefits.
He bolted upright out of a deep sleep to the sound of a very large dog barking. He looked towards Clara’s bedroom and could see her lying naked on the bed. She appeared to be asleep but he couldn’t see what was making the barking noise. He approached the open door only to jump back as the creature stepped into the doorway. It was crouched on all fours like a dog but appeared to have the limbs of a very large man and it was almost completely covered in fur.
He froze in terror as the thing started to walk towards him. He turned to run and tripped over the coffee table. When he got up the creature was on him. He tried to get away and only succeeded in sliding into the sofa. The creature continued to advance slowly one booming bark accompanied each step until it was standing over him. It had the protruding snout of a canine but the eyes looked almost human and it had feet and hands instead of paws. Tom felt like he was looking into a mirror, the creature’s face reminded him of his He could feel its hot breath as the creature sniffed at his face and chest. Large ropes of spittle dripped from it mouth and fell onto his cheek. The creature seemed to be making up his mind about something. Tom thought he was screaming but no sound came from his mouth.
The creature lifted its head listening for something Tom couldn’t hear then slowly turned back towards the bedroom where Clara still lay asleep. The creature walked slowly to the bed and sank it’s teeth into Clara’s throat. It turned toward Tom and he could see the blood dripping from Clara’s throat. She was still alive. She looked at him and tried to say something but the creature’s hold on her throat made it almost impossible to hear. He could make out one word, “Please…” the rest was unintelligible. He wanted to help her but he was frozen there on the floor. He could only watch in helpless terror as the creature tore Clara apart.
The nightmares continued as the weeks went by. There was a part of him that wished the last dream was real. He hated what Clara was doing to him but he couldn’t make the break. Their lovemaking was more addicting than any drug he had ever taken. Feelings of anger at himself alternated with feelings of love. He was captured by some sort of psychosexual Stockholm Syndrome in his mind.
His physical condition began to deteriorate from the frequent bloodletting. “Are you okay Tom? You look pale.” Clara asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Maybe we should meet less frequently?”
“There’s no need for that. I’m fine. Are you going to take away my only pleasure?”
“I don’t want you to make yourself sick.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m fine.” In reality, he was showing all the signs of anemia although he didn’t know what those signs were. Fatigue, weakness, dizziness, shortness of breath, he wanted desperately to hide that from Clara. Their Friday nights together had become the only thing he had to look forward to.
Tom was out walking, an increasingly rare event. He usually didn’t have the strength for it. “What’s she doing here?” Tom asked Clara as he walked through the front door and saw Heather sitting on the sofa with Clara.
“Don’t talk about me as if I can’t hear you.” Heather said angrily.
Tom ignored Heather and responded angrily. “It’s Friday. It’s our night. We have an agreement.”
Clara looked bemusedly at him. “Are you done?” she asked quietly.
“What?” her response caught him off guard.
“I asked you if you were done. Are you?”
“I guess.”
“Last time I checked I didn’t have to ask permission to have a visitor in my own apartment. Would you like to know why Heather is here?”
All the steam had been taken out of his anger. “Sure.”
“Heather, why don’t you tell him why you are here.”
“I am here because Clara wants me to join you tonight.”
“And you do whatever Clara wants you to?”
“Yes, I do. Am I not good enough for you?”
“It’s not that.”
“I know that Clara is a vampire.” This declaration surprised him.
“Does she feed on you too?”
“No unfortunately I have a blood disorder that prevents me from offering myself to her.” Heather came and sat next to him on the sofa and Clara. “I would do anything to please Clara. She wants to make love to us both. What possibly can be wrong with that?”
“I keep asking myself that very same question. What does an young, attractive, successful woman want with me? And now her equally attractive lover is offering herself to me. What could possibly be wrong with that?”
Heather rubbed his thigh, “Come on. It will be fun. We both know how much fun Clara is and she said so many good things about you.” She leaned over and whispered, “Don’t you want to fuck me, Tom?” She knew she was getting to him as she started to nibble on his earlobe.
“Uhh,” He groaned. “Okay, okay but first I need a relaxer. Clara can you mix me up some of your tonic?” She had just returned from the bedroom.
“I have something good we can smoke.”
“That will work.” He watched Clara as she went to a drawer in the kitchen and came back with a large hand-rolled cigarette.
“If this doesn’t relax you, nothing will.” She lit the cigarette with a lighter and drew on it deeply. She sat down next to Heather, wrapped her arm around Heather’s neck as if to kiss her. Instead she blew a small and steady stream of smoke into her waiting mouth. “Here take a hit on this.” She said and handed it to Tom and he also took a deep draw. The smoke was less harsh than anything he had ever smoked before and had herbal hints, not as strong as cloves but noticeable none the less. They quietly passed the cigarette around until it was gone.
It didn’t take long for whatever drug was in the cigarette to take affect. The beige walls of the room began to show colors that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t nervous because this time he was expecting it, not just expecting it but wanting it desperately. He watched as Clara grabbed Heather and pulled her to the middle of the room.
They began to sway and then dance in unison. Their dance turned into a striptease as if they had practiced this before. Pants and blouses came off like synchronous swimmers using the same hands at the same time. They stood there in their bra and panties swaying their hips to some music that only they could hear. After a minute of this they were naked, They continued to dance naked and his drug addled mind began to see them transform from two beautiful women to two snarling daughters of darkness and then back again.
Clara pulled Heather close and their bodies writhed together, grinding into each other. They turned to him and he could see their faces take on reptilian features. Their long tongues intertwining as they flicked in and out. Their eyes flashed red as blood and any sexual desire he had was immediately turned into terror.
The monsters grabbed him by the arms and pulled him towards the bedroom. Everything in him fought to get out of their grasp but they were too strong. His struggle lessened as they returned back to their female form. “C’mon Tom stop playing around. I want you.” Heather helped him out of his clothes and pulled him onto the bed and gave him a deep kiss. Her tongue was sweet and she smelled faintly of roses. He grabbed her close and felt the warmth of her body pressed against his. He could feel the bed sink a little as Clara joined them on the bed. He felt her cool hand on him as she kissed the back of his neck. Then it happened again. Heather’s features started to transform back into the reptilian snake-like creature that had terrified him so much just moments before. He recoiled under the featherlike touch of her reptilian tongue.
“What’s wrong with you, Tom?” Clara asked. He turned to see the same Clara he had always known. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw Heather had returned to her normal form. His body relaxed momentarily but he couldn’t keep his mind on the pleasure the women were trying to give him. Heather pushed him back and forced him to lay down. She mounted him and pulled Clara to her. She rocked back and forth on him as she kissed Clara deeply.
Tom screamed as the face of the priest appeared over Heather’s shoulder. The face disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Heather and Clara took his scream to be the sound of his orgasm and Heather rolled off him. They embraced and started to make love to each other. Tom was left to watch in terror unknown to the ladies. Waiting for some other terror to grab him. He saw the dog man approaching his side of the bed. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out.
“That was the craziest crime scene I’ve ever seen Sarge. He was just curled up on the floor of that empty apartment, naked.” The third precinct had been abuzz for two weeks about the bizarre nature of the crime. Officer Randall had been the first on scene, responding to the neighbors complaints.
“The ME’s report was wild too.” Said Sergeant Kruscyk. He died of a heart attack but all the blood had been drained from the body, post-mortem. How did you wind up first on scene?”
“The apartment is on my beat. The neighbors were complaining about the smell. I haven’t been a cop forever like you old guys but I know the smell of decomp when I smell it.”
“Watch the old guy bullshit.” The sergeant said smiling. “Yeah, that smell never leaves you. The ME says he had been there for at least a week. The body had little scars all over it and two fresh cuts over the jugular and carotid.”
“There was no blood at the scene when I saw it. You would think that there would be blood all over the place with the carotid and the jugular cut. Have you heard anything from the homicide guys on the case?”
“They said they have no leads. The landlord said he rented it to a young lady who paid for a year in cash in advance with a hefty deposit to cover any damage. The paperwork was a dead end. She used fictitious ID.”
“They can’t ID the vic?”
“Not so far. They haven’t even been able to identify the victim. There was no identifying evidence on the body or anywhere in the apartment and the body doesn’t match any missing person’s reports.”
“That’s just crazy.”
“If you stay in this job as long as us old guys, you’ll see lots of crazy shit.”