Blood Rose
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, Mind Control, Vampires, Group Sex, Orgy, Harem, First, Oral Sex, Slow,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Before becoming the seductress who brought Vincent into the vampire world, Elizabeth was a curious teenage vampire learning the discipline of Blood Rose and exploring the boundaries of what she could be. Vampire Tales: Past

Six years ago...

As of this particular moment, the single general thought flowing throughout the house was relief. The interrogation would surely come later, but right now everybody was just happy Anthony was home. Everyone had been beside themselves with worry; he was supposed to have returned from his camping trip five days ago. But the worry was over now. Anthony was back.

Or was he?

Elizabeth knew there was something ... different ... about her brother. What it was, she couldn't even begin to guess; but then, she was still so much younger than him. She was still only a child at twelve years old, and there was a lot she didn't know. But she couldn't deny there was something about Anthony that seemed very not right.

Mom and Dad had been both overjoyed and on the verge of tears at the same time when he'd finally come parading in through the front door with a big smile pasted on his face as if he was expecting a party. The smile on his face had been the first thing that struck her as wrong. Because ... well really, wrong was the only word that really described it. That smile was just plain wrong. They kept asking him questions about what had happened and where he'd been, but he just kept telling them to relax and not worry about it. He said that a miracle had happened to him; that he'd been changed for the better. That was all. That was the second thing that seemed amiss; Anthony had never been cryptic and mysterious before. It was just an anti-Anthony thing. But more than anything else, she could feel it around him, that something was different.

And she was still dwelling on it, sitting alone on her bed amongst her stuffed animals, when Anthony asked her to come with him into his room. "Elizabeth, come with me. There's something very important I want to show you."

Elizabeth hesitantly rose from her bed, thinking he was just continuing to grow more and more suspicious. When did Anthony ever have anything he wanted to show her? Since when did he view her as anything more than his obnoxious kid sister? Suspicious as she was, she found her curiosity taking precedence, and she proceeded into Anthony's room.

The room was lit only by the bedside lamp. He stood looking out the window into the night, his back to her. "Shut the door behind you," he said, not bothering to turn around. She hesitantly obeyed. "Sit down," he said then, gesturing with a hand to his bed. He still hadn't turned around.

A moment of silence passed; Elizabeth was starting to get a bit nervous. Finally, still keeping his back to her, Anthony said, "You've never been afraid of the dark, have you?"

What kind of stupid question was that? "No," she said curiously. Technically, that was a lie; she had been when she was three. But that was a long time ago.

"Good," he said, finally turning to look at her. "Because that's what I wanted to show you. The Darkness."

"What do you mean, you want to show me the darkness? You want me to see the lights off?"

He chuckled. Something in his laugh made the nervousness that had started clutching at her heart grip tighter. "No," he laughed. "There's more to the Darkness than just lack of light. There's so much more." She just stared at him, not understanding. He added, "It especially becomes more when you become one with the Darkness. I have, and I want to share it with you."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, steadily moving across the border from being nervous to being actually scared. But his wordless answer was what really frightened her. All he did was look at her. And there, in his eyes, she saw the source of her fear. What it was, she still couldn't name. But it was there. Whatever it was. And somehow, on some level, she was beginning to understand.

"There's nothing I can say that will explain it for you; you have to experience it for yourself, and I want you to have that chance. But I'll only show it to you if you let me. And you should know right now that if you decide to accept this, you can never go back." Elizabeth fearfully shrank back from him. She still didn't really know what was going on, but whatever it was, it was drawing her in and scaring her off at the same time. "It's okay to be scared right now," he added. "I was too. But when I accepted it, I learned to love it. Do you want it?"

Such a simple question. "Do you want it?" And those four words were what made her realize something at that moment: she wasn't just scared, she was excited. She wasn't feeling drawn to the darkness around her brother in spite of her fear; she was feeling drawn because of it. And she knew then that whatever the darkness coming off of her brother was, she wanted it. She wanted to taste it.


Slowly, Anthony bent down to her. With his hands, he gently tilted her head to the side and brushed her hair off of her neck. As he leaned in towards her neck, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck, and then the sting of his teeth...

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open, and she sat bolt upright in her seat. Harrison stood looking down on her, arms folded and an eyebrow raised. "Checking our eyelids for leaks, are we?" he jibed.

She gave him an awkward smile, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. "Um, yes sir," she said hesitantly. "They're ... they're clear, no leaks."

"Well that's a disappointment," Harrison said. "I was hoping maybe you'd have still seen everything I just showed the class." Hushed laughter arose from around the small classroom. Elizabeth started to blush a bit as she looked around at the six others gathered there. Not for the first time, she found herself envying humans going to public schools. It was one thing to be embarrassed in front of a room full of twenty or thirty people you barely knew. But in a room occupied by six other students who all knew you personally ... Ugh!

For obvious reasons, schools for vampires had to be private schools. They also had to be well concealed; it simply wouldn't do to have a human drive by and read a sign that said "(fill in the blank) School for Young Vampires." About seven or so students for each class was the general norm, particularly considering vampires in a particular area were generally few enough in number that that number was appropriate. They'd found ways to blend in well with human society, but one way or another, they would always be a separate, detached minority.

Her mind drifted back to the dream again ... no, the memory. Dreams were things that didn't actually happen. But she'd been asleep, and the actual memory of the night her brother had made her what she was had played through her mind. Every detail about it was still as vivid as if it had happened last night, even after six years. And every time she found herself envying humans, her thoughts drifted back to that night, and she reminded herself of one thing: You chose this. He gave you a choice, and you said yes. Every so often she would hear another voice in her head respond, But you were a stupid kid then, you didn't know what you were doing! Now was not such a time.

No, she was not going to frown on her choice to become a vampire right now. Not with the way Sylvia was looking at her. Sylvia was her friend, and although she had been laughing with everyone else just a moment ago, her look was friendly and affectionate now, and all Elizabeth's embarrassment instantly smoothed over.

As Harrison went back to his lecture, Elizabeth panned her eyes around the room. Most of the students in the room were pureborn; they were born vampires. Most vampires young enough to be in high school were pureborn anyway. A youngblood who was turned as young as Elizabeth was wasn't especially common. In fact, the only other youngblood in the room was...

Nathaniel. Ah, Nathaniel! All she had to do was think of him once, and she would be swept away into her own little dreamworld. The corners of her mouth turned wistfully up as her gaze fixed upon him.

Nathaniel had a fairly decent build; not exactly Pumping Iron, but just a musculature that looked generally good. On any guy, that was a good start, but Nathaniel's appeal hardly ended there. There was also the face to think about, and he had that. He had superbly angular features, with a pair of sparkling brown eyes and a head of wavy dark hair. But above all was his seemingly limitless confidence and utter fearlessness. He'd been a star athlete at his previous high school before he became a vampire. She could just imagine him standing over her, yanking his shirt off of that athlete's body, and unzipping his pants, preparing to unveil his concealed weapon for her...

"So I'll see you all tomorrow," Harrison finished, "and hopefully you'll know what I'm talking about by then; I won't mention any names, Elizabeth." The class laughed again. That's the other problem with having a class so small, she thought, it's a lot easier for the teacher to tell when you're not paying attention.

It was a little after midnight when the class let out. For also obvious reasons, classes had to be at night. Now the task of walking home presented itself. Most humans their age would probably be terrified of walking home from school at this hour, but Elizabeth had been doing it for years. Most of the kids either drove or at least got rides, but Elizabeth liked walking. As always, of course, she wouldn't be walking alone; at least not for a while.

She and Sylvia proceeded off the school side-by-side. Sylvia had blonde hair that was usually tied up in a tail or a fountain or something along those lines, and her eyes were green and narrow and always seemed to be studying something, be it a book or someone's face. Right now they were studying Elizabeth. "So come on, spill, what were you dreaming about?"

"Oh, nothing." She paused, deciding to feed Sylvia a line that would satisfy her. "Just some sweaty romantic fantasy."

"Concerning someone we know?" Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "Someone like ... Nathaniel?"

Elizabeth grinned sheepishly. "How'd you guess?"

Sylvia glared at her, yet continued smiling. "Okay, first of all, I wasn't guessing at all, I was just playing along with you, because you know as well as I do that you just fed me a load of horse shit."

Elizabeth gave her a look that essentially asked "How'd you know?" She didn't actually say that aloud, but the meaning was there.

"My first big clue was your pointed use of the word 'sweaty, ' when I could see just how peaceful you were right there. But more importantly, it's written all over your face. So why don't you try again?"

Elizabeth's head hung. "I was remembering being turned."

"Oh, yeah ... your brother, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Really big moment that comes back to me in my dreams sometimes."

Sylvia sighed. "I kinda envy you sometimes, Elizabeth."


"I always hear youngbloods like you talking about how incredible turning into a vampire is, and when you've been one since you were born, you're just kinda stuck never knowing what they're talking about."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well maybe you should consider yourself lucky, 'cause being turned isn't all fun. I still remember feeling completely drained, and lying sick in bed all day."

"But then when you wake up isn't it supposed to be like you're suddenly more awake than you've ever been or some Zen thing like that?"

Elizabeth looked at her friend with a raised eyebrow. "You get used to it."

Sylvia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're such a party poop!"

Elizabeth grinned. "I know. Isn't that why you love me?" The two girls glared at each other a moment, then burst into laughter.

They reached Sylvia's house first. As she usually did, Sylvia invited Elizabeth to stay a while, but Elizabeth decided she just needed to get home right now. So she went off walking, on her own. She never would have admitted it, but this was what she considered to be one of the simple joys in her life: walking alone at night. Yes, it was a bit frightening—certainly less so than it would have been if she was human, but frightening nonetheless—but she still reveled in it despite that. No, it was because it was frightening that she reveled in it. She felt alive walking alone, vulnerable, on the dark and at this moment foggy streets.

As chance would have it, she didn't stay alone long. A rumbling motorcycle pulled up by the curb next to her, and the rider stepped off, running his lecherous eyes up and down her body. "Hey there, pretty thing," he smirked, removing his helmet. "You lost, baby?"

"No, just on my way home," she said simply, barely sparing him a look.

"Well hey, don't go yet, maybe you could use some company, huh?"

"No thank you."

The scruffy-looking man in the leather jacket moved around in front her, attempting to block her path. "Hey, don't be like that, sweet cakes!" She moved around him, eager to be gone from his presence. But he wouldn't have that. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled. "I said don't be like that!"

"Let go of me," Elizabeth commanded, her simple coldness steadily giving way to anger. She felt no form of intimidation at all.

"I just don't want someone as cute as you to be alone," he said, reaching to grab her with his other hand. He didn't get that far.

"I said let go!" Elizabeth snapped, lashing out with her claws at his face.

The man reeled back, still holding onto her arm with one hand, while putting the other to the four bloody streaks that had appeared on his face. Rage flashed across his face as he reached into his jacket pocket. "Oh, now you're dead, bitch!" he roared, flipping out his switchblade.

The average human girl would have been screaming in terror at this point. Elizabeth hardly batted an eyelash when that blade appeared. His hand began thrusting the blade at her; it would reach her in less than a second. That was far more time than she needed. Her free hand sprang up and grabbed the attacking hand by the wrist, and she swung him over her shoulder onto the ground.

Her attacker lay at her feet now. No ... not her attacker. Her prey. He was at her mercy now. Her vampire instincts knew exactly what to do, and she needed no further incentive to obey them. She dropped to her knees, pulled her lips back from her teeth, and proceeded to indulge in the pumping fluid under the flesh of his neck. She ignored the way he grunted and squirmed beneath her; she remained oblivious to everything except the sweetness of the thick, coppery liquid running down her throat. She didn't even notice when he stopped struggling.

When she had fed to her heart's content, Elizabeth let her victim drop, and raised herself up and leaned her head back with a passionate sigh. It was always the same when she killed someone; the thrill of the moment as she fed, the blissful calm that followed, and then her conscience started talking. There had been times when her conscience had screamed at her; heck, the first few times she'd actually flown into a panic, especially since it was her friends she'd been killing. But right now, she could barely hear her conscience at all. She tried very hard to feel some smattering of pity for the dead man at her feet, but ultimately all she felt was triumph. This man had tried to assault her, and then kill her for God's sake! He got exactly what he deserved, and she got a meal out of it! All was right with the world now.

"You look like you enjoyed that."

Elizabeth whirled around at the sound of the voice. "Who's there?" she said, finally starting to feel a bit of fear. She saw no one; but there was enough fog about tonight that that wasn't particularly surprising. It wasn't all that thick, though, and when the speaker stepped out of it, Elizabeth could see her clearly. A young woman stood before her, roughly mid twenties she looked like, with neck-length black hair and a pair of the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. She had her hands in the pockets of her open trench coat, under which she had on some simple street clothes. But it was her eyes that truly caught Elizabeth's attention, shining like a pair of emeralds.

"Who are you? What did you see?" Elizabeth asked in a just-this-side-of-panicky voice.

"My name is Annabelle," the young woman said. "And I saw everything."

Elizabeth was about ready to cross into the realm of blind panic, at a complete loss as to what to do next. "Um, let me explain ... this guy..."

"Relax, you don't need to explain anything to me, and you don't need to worry about anything." When Elizabeth gave her a curious look, Annabelle added, "Haven't you learned by now how to recognize one of your own?"

Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, starting to breathe easier. "You mean you're a—"

"A vampire? Just like you? Of course I am. And what's your name?"

"Uh ... E-Elizabeth."

"Well tell me, Elizabeth, do you usually take your meals off the street like this?"

"Uh, no..." Elizabeth was a bit unsure of what to say, not knowing what kind of answer Annabelle wanted to hear. "I mean ... he attacked me, and I defended myself, and one thing led to another, you know, and I just couldn't help myself..." She was suddenly painfully aware of how meek and insecure she must have looked in front of this stranger. Of course if she did look that way, it wouldn't exactly be far from the truth.

Annabelle laughed. "I understand. I understand completely." She slowly started moving closer. "You don't need to explain the urge to kill to me; I know it just as well as you do. Possibly even better than you do. But I know we all have other needs, too. Other desires. Other urges." The closer Annabelle grew, the brighter her eyes seemed to glow. Elizabeth's breathing grew heavier, and she felt her heart starting to accelerate. Something in those eyes ... What was it about those eyes? Why were those eyes exciting her so much?

For an agonizing moment, Elizabeth was too nervous to speak. When she was finally able to summon up her voice, she managed to get out, "Wh ... what ... do you want?"

Annabelle smiled. "I want to help you, Elizabeth. I can tell you need it."

"Help me? W-with what?"

"What do you think?" Annabelle smiled. "Look at yourself. Any fool can see you're not happy. How do you intend to deal with eternity the way you are now? I can show you ways to truly make the most of your immortality. I can show you sensations you've never even dreamed of. I can show you ways to make you feel truly alive."

Those glimmering emerald eyes never stopped boring into her all the while Annabelle was talking. Elizabeth wasn't really sure what to make of her offer, but something about Annabelle herself was just too captivating to turn away from.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now," Annabelle said after a moment passed with Elizabeth saying absolutely nothing. With that, Annabelle produced a small slip of paper and placed it in Elizabeth's hand. "When you're ready to give me one, you can meet me at this address."

And so the mysterious woman turned and began disappearing back into the fog. "I'll see you again," Elizabeth heard her say before she vanished from sight. Elizabeth hesitated a moment, pondering over the slip of paper in her hand. After a minute or two, she finally turned to continue the trip home.

The fog had disappeared.

If one thing was constant about Dorian Steel, it was that his mind was always in turmoil. Anyone who knew him would call him a brooding and unhappy man. He seemed to think of little more than finding and destroying anything that walked like a human but bore a pair of fangs. But right now was one of those rare times when he could stop his brooding and just enjoy the moment. And at this moment, his mind was on nothing but the feel of Jade's lips on his cock.

Jade epitomized the look of the stereotypical bad girl. She had spiky green hair, and piercings and tattoos everywhere. She had five earrings on each ear, she had two rings on the left side of her nose, one on her right eyebrow, one on the left side of her lower lip, one on her tongue, one on each nipple and one in her navel. A spider web tattoo decorated her right shoulder all the way from the neck to the upper arm, with the spider itself sitting in the center; on her left shoulder blade was a vicious dragon, on her lower belly was a flaming skull, and some wicked-looking ornamental designs covered some other parts of her body, such as the underside of her left arm, the out-facing side of her left shin, and just above her ass. Even without her clothes, she really looked more like a punk rocker than a hunter.

And in another world, that's precisely what she'd be, Dorian thought as her lips came up off the head of his rod with a loud pop. He relaxed deeper into the couch as she began beating his cock against her tongue, and looked up at him and laughed as she did this before taking it back into her mouth. He imagined how things would have been different for her had she not had her encounter with a bunch of vampires that night last year.

Dorian had met Jade at a Rob Zombie concert; Dorian and the team he had at that time were, of course, hunting vampires. Jade was just there for the music, along with her leather-and-metal clad buddies. A group of bloodsuckers had happened upon them, invited them to sneak backstage for some fun, and mayhem ensued. Dorian and his team showed up and killed a few of the vamps while chasing the others away, but not before they'd succeeded in killing all of Jade's friends and leaving her with a bite herself. The team had given her an antidote before the change could take hold, and she'd been hunting with them ever since.

If he'd learned anything about her since then, it was that she liked it rough, and when she wanted it she wanted it now. And now, when she was done bobbing her green-topped head up and down on his shaft, she wanted it now. She stood up, turned around, and seated herself down on his lap. When Dorian's upright staff pierced her, he heard a low bestial growl come from her. And almost right away, her demonstration of the fact that she liked it rough began. She went into a heavy bouncing frenzy, with f-bombs repeatedly exploding from her mouth. Dorian grabbed hold of her sumptuous ass, giving it a good slap as it repeatedly slammed down on him. The response was an instant, feral squeal.

After she had been continuously bouncing for a few minutes, he took hold of her hips and stood up from the couch, not once pulling out of her. She lowered herself down on her hands on knees on the couch, while he stood on his knees behind her. Now it was his turn to be in control. "Oh, fuck yeah, fuck my fuckin' pussy, you fucker!" He pounded her hard, giving her ass another good slap.

She continued bombarding him with f-bombs, ultimately shouting, "Stick that fuckin' cock in my ass!" Dorian knew better than to argue with Jade about things like that, so he pulled out of her pussy, wiped some of the juices that were gushing from her around her puckered little hole, and slid himself into her back entrance. She growled like an angry dog and screamed "Fuck yeah!" Dorian moved as best he could in and out of that tight, hot vice, pounding her hard, eliciting all the profanity Jade was capable of, until he could hold back no more, pulled out, and decorated her ass with white ooze.

Thus spent, Dorian collapsed onto the couch. Jade picked up a tissue to clean the goop off her ass, then proceeded to take a cigarette. She offered him one before lighting hers, and he accepted, taking the lighter when she was done with it. It wasn't for the typical reason of relaxing after sex. He took it because it helped to calm his thoughts. The moment of pleasure was over; now it was time to brood again.

There was nothing to be particularly happy about tonight anyway; tonight's hunt had been a bust. They'd found no vampires, and hence killed no vampires. Spotting a vampire who wasn't doing anything particularly vampiric was a difficult task, and it took years of experience to tell one apart from an ordinary human at first glance. Somebody like Jade couldn't spot a vampire until she saw a pair of fangs, but Dorian and a few others on the team, like Ethan and Kaeli, who had been doing this for at least the last ten years, knew how to spot one out of a crowd. Tonight had been one of those nights when they'd spotted nothing. Oh well, tomorrow's another day...

Except there were still more of them crawling around out there, and he had missed a chance to rip their fucking heads off! He was all pent up, which was probably why he'd done what he'd just done with Jade. As he pulled his pants on he looked over at Jade, who'd already gotten back into her studded leather clothes and was just hanging idly around with a burning cigarette in her fingers. They weren't trying to find comfort in each other's arms or anything; he felt absolutely nothing for Jade, any more than she felt anything for him. They did it because they wanted to, and that was that.

There was no room for love in a hunter's life. In their line of work, sex was something you had because you never knew when, or if, you would get another chance. When you spent every night looking for monsters that were so much stronger, and more adept at killing than you, you had to face the reality that any night could be your last. Caring about people just set you up for heartbreak.

And wasn't that how you got yourself into this business in first place? An image of Melissa flashed across his mind. He shoved it away. If he had learned anything over the past twelve years, he had learned that it did not do to dwell on memories. Staying in the now was the only way he could expect to survive.

Jade finished her cigarette quickly, and shoved the butt into the ashtray and headed for the door. "You going home?" Dorian said.

"Got a right to sleep in my own bed don't I?"

"Just thought I'd ask," said Dorian, taking another drag. "Just remember to keep your windows—"

"My windows up and my doors locked and blah blah blah, I know the drill. Don't worry, I'm still keeping a nine-millimeter and a dagger in my glove box and a box-full of weapons at home, I'm prepared. Getting bit once was fuckin' enough for me, I don't plan on repeating it."

"Fair enough. Good night." With that Jade left without another word.

On the subject of sleep, it was late now, and he should probably be thinking about getting some himself. He should; it didn't mean he was going to, whether he went to bed now or not. Hunts that produced no results always seemed to make an insomniac out of him. It was harder to sleep knowing that there were vampires out there he could have killed tonight, that were probably draining some poor soul dry right now because he didn't.

He took a breath—or a drag, rather—and calmly reminded himself that he was only human; he was just a hunter, not a superhero. There were always some people out there he couldn't save.

Funny how I always try to tell myself that as if it's going to make me feel better. Dorian got up, put out what was left of his cigarette, and headed off to his bedroom. He'd find out in the morning who was out there that he didn't save.

Elizabeth crashed onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling as if it weren't there. To put it mildly, her trip home had been interesting. Hell, her head was still spinning about it. Mom and Dad had evidently noticed that something was on her mind, but they'd been her parents long enough to chalk it up to school or boy trouble. Of course human parents would have asked if she was on marijuana or something; as it was, hers just let it slide for now. And she certainly preferred it that way. She certainly wasn't leaping with excitement to tell them that she'd killed someone on the way home.

And she was definitely in no hurry to tell them about Annabelle. That was the big one.

Strange, she thought, that she was more concerned about Annabelle than about the fact that she had taken a life. Of course, being a vampire meant that an occasional human death was something you had to face sometimes, but that didn't mean it should be taken lightly. Shouldn't she feel a little worse about what she did?

Then again, why should I feel anything at all? The world's probably better off without that scum anyway! Hell, I did the world a favor by sucking him dry! Surely her parents would agree with that, wouldn't they? Anthony had done the same thing to them that he'd done to her; they understood the thirst for blood as much as she did, and they certainly had some blood on their own hands. Wouldn't they be hypocrites if they scolded her for it? Still, she decided it would be best to keep it from them.

On that note, her thoughts turned again to Annabelle, and again she thought of how peculiar it was that her encounter with her felt like more of a taboo than the dead human. What was it about Annabelle she was so afraid of? Why was she afraid of letting her parents know she'd met someone? And what about Annabelle's weird offer? That part just didn't make any sense at all...

No, that wasn't right. She still didn't know what it meant, but it would be a lie to say that the offer didn't make some kind of sense. She just hadn't figured out what that kind of sense was.

So many questions, none of which would have easy answers. Maybe it would be best not to think about them right now, and just relax. She found she was feeling another kind of need right now, and one she certainly knew how to respond to. Chances were, it might help to calm her nerves a little bit. She slid her hand down into her denim skirt and allowed herself to slip away into the familiar pleasures of her clit. For a moment she laughed inwardly at herself, remembering when she'd first discovered the pleasures that came from that little spot between her legs. She'd been barely thirteen, only having been changed into a vampire very recently, and for a while she'd thought these pleasures had been something that came with the transformation. A comical notion now that she was older and wiser, but still worth a laugh remembering now and then.

Her eyes slowly closed as her fingers moved back and forth over the little pea-shaped nub. She let her mind drift, conjuring up another image of Nathaniel standing over her. His beautifully built body was uncovered for her viewing pleasure, and his ten inches of dick was standing and ready to pierce her. To deflower her. She was ready for him. Impulsively, her legs spread apart, and her free hand cupped itself around her breast through the fabric of her shirt and bra, and began to squeeze. She could just imagine his huge weapon sliding into her, opening the folds of her pussy ... her tongue ran itself over her lips, savoring the delicious moment.

Then suddenly she saw a feminine pair of hands appear on Nathaniel's shoulders from behind, and a face that belonged to Annabelle peeked around from behind his head. "Do you like it?"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. The mysterious woman she'd met tonight had invaded her sexual fantasies. How the hell did that happen?

Elizabeth shuddered, and decided she needed a shower. So she got up and walked into the bathroom, stripped off her clothes and hit the hot water.

She stood there a while, her eyes shut, savoring the warm, soothing patter of water on her. She picked up the soap and began running it over her body like she always did. She hadn't realized until now just how desperately she did need this. But there was something else she needed too, and she had cut herself short of satisfying it. Almost without her consent, her hand again drifted down between her legs.

"I can show you sensations you've never even dreamed of." Her eyes remaining closed, an image of Annabelle's face flashed before them. Her wise and lovely smile. And those eyes. Those incredible emerald eyes that you just couldn't look away from. And suddenly the fingers that were massaging her clit began to work harder, faster.

" ... ways to make you feel truly alive..." Elizabeth started breathing harder. Her heart began accelerating the same way it had when Annabelle stood before her. As she ran the soap over her breasts, she felt how hard her heart was pounding against her chest. Her nipples were standing on end. A soft moan escaped her lips.

" ... pleasures..." She wasn't sure at what point the soap slipped out of her grip, because for the moment she'd forgotten the soap even existed. She was now fervently squeezing her tit with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. Her head rolled back, her eyes still shut. What had started as a low moan was steadily escalating into sharp cries.

Annabelle's face appeared again.

"Do you know what you want?"

"Yes!" That was equally in response to Annabelle's question as in response to her own approaching orgasm. In a matter of seconds later, it came. Her eyes finally opened when it did, accompanying her loud squeal. She stood there a moment, gasping and convulsing, attempting to get a hold of her senses.

She was alone, wasn't she? There was nobody else in this bathroom with her. Annabelle was certainly not here. And yet, she had been talking to her. Or had she? True, she hadn't actually heard those words just now. Not with her ears anyway. They had been in her head. But they didn't feel at all like they were coming from her. It was like Annabelle's words were completely skipping her ears and going straight to her head.

"Do you know what you want?" In a moment of ecstasy, Elizabeth had said yes. Now she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure at all. But maybe there was a way to find out. Maybe Annabelle could help her find some answers. She decided she would go check out the address Annabelle had given her on the way home from school tomorrow night. Just to get a sense of what Annabelle was really about. What could it hurt?

Ten or twelve years ago, when this sort of thing happened, Dorian's general reaction would have been to grab something heavy and throw it across the room. But having repeatedly dealt with this situation in the twelve years since he became a hunter had mellowed him to it somewhat; now he would just frown and take another drag on his cigarette. It still made his blood burn, though.

He'd been out looking for them, and still they managed to get someone.

The police had identified the victim as Eric Torrence, 28, found on the side of 7th Avenue at approximately 2 am. Police reported double neck wounds and severe loss of blood, while very little blood was found at the crime scene. Definitely a vampire's work. A motorcycle registered in his name was parked a short distance away. A switchblade was found in the victim's hand, but no blood was on the blade at all.

Dorian could already see the whole scenario playing out: The guy stops his motorcycle to inspect it, the vampire comes along and attacks him, the guy takes out his blade to try to defend himself, but the vampire's too fast, and the guy gets sucked dry. The kind of thing that happened way more often than most people would care to know about. All he could do now was scowl about it, and blow out another breath of smoke.

"Sorry Dorian," said Keith. It was the same thing he always said when this happened; it was all anybody could say. It never made things better.

Smoke from the two men's cigarettes was steadily clouding the ceiling of Keith's office. Keith, as chance would have it, just happened to be a detective, working secretly as a hunter by night. This provided them with some useful insights as to where vampires had been and where they were likely to be found. Keith was African-American, with a beard that was just starting to turn a little gray. At 42, Keith was the only hunter on Dorian's team who was actually older than Dorian himself.

That didn't necessarily mean he was the teammate for whom Dorian had the most respect; he was a useful ally, and possibly even a friend, but the life of a hunter didn't really mean as much to him as it did to some of the others, Dorian included. This probably had to do with the fact that he hadn't lost anyone important to him to vampire attacks the way most hunters had. He'd gotten into hunting after stumbling upon a scene of a victim being killed by a vampire, and decided he wanted to do something about it. Certainly a good enough reason, but when the battle wasn't personal, his heart wasn't in it quite as deeply as it could be.

"Yeah, everybody's sorry," Dorian muttered.

"Well, we'll be out again tonight, we just might bag the suckhead that did this," Keith shrugged.

Dorian scowled. "I'm tired of 'we just might.' Honestly, Keith, how many more people have to die like this?"

"What do you want to do about it? You know we're just doing our part to fight a battle we can never really win. Is the world gonna run out of vampires? There's still just too many out there for us to deal with them all."

Dorian's scowl deepened. Some little part of him had always known that what Keith was saying was true. He just never wanted to believe it. He couldn't accept the idea that humanity would never win this war. People had hunted plenty of other species to the brink of extinction; why were vampires so different?

"That's not true!" he declared. "There's got to be a limit to how many of those monsters there can be, and sooner or later we will get them all!"

"Well what do you expect us to do?"

Dorian paused on a moment, chewing on Keith's simple, yet infinitely profound question. At last, he gave an answer that was even simpler, yet twice as profound: "More." Off Keith's look, he continued, "It's as simple as that: we do more. I think the reason we didn't catch any vamps last night was because we gave up too soon. We stay out longer, we expand our search parameters, and we don't go home until we kill something!"

Keith looked unsettled. Probably to be expected from someone who didn't have any personal reasons to fight. Ultimately, Keith stood up and said, "Dorian, I know how serious you are about this, but you've got to remember I have a life and a family to think about—"

"So think about them!" Dorian cut him off. "Think about what would happen if a vampire found one of them! Every bloodsucker that slips by us only increases the risk of that happening! I'd think for their sakes you'd be as devoted to this as I am!"

Dorian could see him chewing on this; Keith, the only hunter he knew who had a family at all, which gave him an ideal source of incentive to see things Dorian's way. "All right, Dorian, I'll stay out two hours longer, but that's my limit."

Dorian struggled to smile at Keith's half-hearted compliance. As much as he liked to think of himself as a fair and righteous man, Dorian just didn't like compromise.

Elizabeth stood transfixed, not quite sure how to grasp what she was seeing. Based on what Annabelle had been wearing last night, she expected her home to be a simple suburban house, or any kind of home the common vampire would dwell in. She certainly hadn't been expecting a massive, elegant mansion.

A decorative iron fence surrounded the front of the house, with a gate positioned in the middle which Elizabeth was now looking through. The central section of the house stood three stories tall, with two-story wings branching off from the sides. The trip from the gate to the front door was, put simply, a long one, which involved passing through a gorgeous courtyard dominated by a huge fountain with a pair of prancing horse statues.

As she gazed upon the beautiful, yet somehow intimidating, estate, Elizabeth realized she had actually heard of this place before. This was one of the local urban legends; the unnamed haunted house just outside of town, supposedly inhabited by some sort of ghosts or monsters. Or vampires, Elizabeth thought whimsically.

Of course, she was having trouble picturing a haunted house having a voice intercom box posted on the front gate, which implied to her that nobody had gotten this close to inspect it in a while. She stepped up to it and pushed the button, receiving a mild buzz as a response. Moments later, a feminine voice with a thick southern accent that clearly did not belong to Annabelle spoke through it: "Hello? Who's knockin'?"

"Uh ... my name's Elizabeth, I'm here for Annabelle?"

The girl on the other end chuckled. "Honey, ain't that who we all here for. C'mon in, Ah'll give her a holler."

There was a heavy metallic click and the gate slowly opened, and Elizabeth cautiously stepped through. She made her way along the path to the front door, curving around the massive horse statues in the fountain that made her feel very small. She reached the large double doors at the front of the house and banged the shiny brass knocker. She could just hear the sound echoing inside, moments before one of the double doors opened, and she hesitantly stepped inside.

In a single word, the room she had entered was magnificent. It was also huge, bigger than many entire houses she had seen. The room was dominated by a wide carpeted staircase leading up to a second-floor balcony that was supported by elegant marble pillars that stretched up from the marble tiled floor. An elegant chandelier hung down over the cavernous room, throwing its amber glow over the smooth white walls.

It was only when she heard the thunderous echo of the door closing behind her that Elizabeth turned to observe the person who had let her in, a girl who didn't look much older than her—though if she was a vampire she very well could have been—dressed only in a red silk kimono. "Well hi!" the girl beamed, her accent confirming Elizabeth's suspicions that she was in fact the girl she'd spoken to on the intercom. "Ah'm Rosanna!" she said, shaking Elizabeth's hand.

"Um, hi," Elizabeth returned with an awkward smile. The question of why Rosanna was dressed the way she was started forming on her lips, but she decided to let that lie for now and instead asked, "Is Annabelle around?"

"Oh, Ah gave her a holler, like Ah said Ah was gonna, she should be just about—"

"Here," a voice cut her off. Elizabeth turned back and now saw Annabelle gracefully descending the grand carpeted staircase. And there again were those eyes; Elizabeth's gaze was drawn to them immediately. Those shimmering emeralds looked back at her, seemingly expressing a sense of welcome in a way that mere words could never hope to convey. Elizabeth was just faintly aware of how dramatically Annabelle's wardrobe had changed. It was as if her clothes changed specifically to fit in with her surroundings, much in the way a chameleon changes its colors. Her casual street clothes and open trench coat had been replaced with a classy black dress and a decorative pair of open-toed high heels.

"Hello Elizabeth," she smiled warmly. "Welcome."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile back.

"Rosanna," Annabelle said, "why don't you go rejoin the others while I give
Elizabeth the initiation."

"A'right, see ya later," Rosanna beamed as she began prancing off, her shoulder-length brown hair bouncing as she moved. "Don't be a stranger!"

Slowly, elegantly, Annabelle turned and began moving back up the steps, as Elizabeth cautiously followed her. Naturally, she had more questions, which she continued asking as they moved up to the second floor. "So, Rosanna ... she's a vampire too, right?"

"Trust me," Annabelle replied, "you're never going to find anyone in this house who isn't."

"So this place is yours?"

"It's my inheritance, so to speak. My family house. Of course I'm the only surviving member of my family, so yes, the house is mine. But I try to keep it as alive as possible. There are always a few people here at least. Like you."

Elizabeth paused a moment as they continued through a door and into the labyrinthine halls of the second floor. "You said you were giving me the initiation ... into what?"

"Well it's not an official initiation; just a sampler of what you can expect here. After that, it's entirely up to you."

Elizabeth fell silent after that, following Annabelle through another door into a fairly sizeable and rather charming bedroom. The bed appeared large enough for at least two people, but it hardly dominated the room. There was also a sofa, and a fireplace, and a large fern by the floor-to-ceiling windows, of which the curtains were currently open. There were large, decoratively framed mirrors on two walls, and a third on the ceiling. Above the bed, no less.

"Is this your bedroom?" Elizabeth asked.

"It's one of them, yes. I have many. This is one of the ones that don't see a whole lot of sleep." That last part was delivered with sly eye and a smirk. Her meaning was as clear as the glass of the windows. Elizabeth shivered, beginning to wonder what she was getting herself into. Was this some kind of brothel?

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Annabelle said, moving towards another open door, which from what Elizabeth could see led to a bathroom. "I'll be right back."

Annabelle disappeared through the door, and Elizabeth removed her coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. She began slowly moving about, taking in the room in greater detail. As she moved past the fireplace, which one of the mirrors was positioned above, she happened to notice a picture on the mantle that caught her eye. Like everything in the house, it was clean and attractively kept, but the image itself was old and in black and white. She noticed then that it was dated 1872. It appeared to be a family portrait, with a wealthy-looking family of about six, all well dressed for the time period.

And she did recognize Annabelle among them, standing casually amongst her family in a fashionable nineteenth-century dress and hat. The picture was clearly taken while she was still human; the family was standing outside in broad daylight.

"I think I still have that dress."

Elizabeth jumped at the sound of Annabelle's voice. She let out a breath as she looked around into her wistfully smiling face. "You're really good at sneaking up on people," she breathed. Glancing back at the date on the picture, she then added, "Well I guess you've had a long time to practice."

Annabelle gracefully moved towards the center of the room, gesturing for Elizabeth to follow. Elizabeth didn't. "What's supposed to happen now?"

Annabelle put a finger to her lips. "Shh. Your questions can wait for now. Just come here."

Growing nervous, Elizabeth put a hesitant foot forward. Then another.

Those eyes...

And another.

Those eyes!

And another.

As she drew ever nearer, all the while transfixed by Annabelle's emerald eyes, Elizabeth suddenly became very aware of how wet her panties were getting. Her nipples felt like they were going to cut through her blouse. And especially she realized how increasingly nervous she was becoming with every step.

She kept walking. She couldn't stop now.

Don't be afraid. Annabelle's voice in her head. Those eyes were speaking to her.

She continued moving forward until she was close enough for Annabelle to put a hand on her shoulder. That hand moved along her shoulder up to her neck, and pushed her hair away from it and gently tilted her head to the side. "Just relax," Annabelle whispered. And she did. Starting to feel a very strong sense of déjà vu, Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed deeply as Annabelle leaned in towards her neck.

She felt a brief sting from Annabelle's teeth; then there was a little tingle of electricity that made her shiver. She could feel blood being drawn from her neck, and something about it was turning her on. After a few seconds, Annabelle pulled away, her lips considerably redder than they had been before. "Now come here," she said, "taste your blood." Now Annabelle was leaning in for her lips.

This was crazy! This woman was going to kiss her ... and Elizabeth was going to let her do it! She gave no resistance at all when their lips met. The inside of Annabelle's mouth was coated with Elizabeth's blood, serving as a dressing as their tongues danced together in a graceful union.

"Now," Annabelle said once she pulled away, tilting her own head sideways, "taste mine."

Elizabeth again surprised herself by giving no hesitation. She had become a complete slave to impulse. Annabelle was telling her to bite her, and her bare and exposed neck was just too inviting to give a moment's refusal. Elizabeth leaned in and carefully sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of Annabelle's throat. She felt alive; as alive as she only did when she fed off a live human. But this wasn't feeding; this was just tasting. And she was loving it.

And apparently, so was Annabelle. Elizabeth felt a hand placed on the back of her head, and a contented sigh next to her ear. As her hand casually moved across Annabelle's shoulder, she happened to move one of the spaghetti straps of her dress, and suddenly found herself tempted to continue moving to the point of sliding it off her shoulder. She wanted to undress Annabelle.

Go ahead. Do it. The sound of Annabelle's mental encouragement was all she needed. Off went one strap, and as she pulled her lips away from Annabelle's throat, off went the other. The dress slid down and pooled around Annabelle's feet, leaving her body exposed for Elizabeth's viewing pleasure. Once again the two women brought their lips together, Elizabeth now offering Annabelle a taste of her own blood. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands were cupping Annabelle's breasts and giving them a good squeeze.

Something was happening. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but Annabelle was doing something. It wasn't until she disengaged their lips that she saw that Annabelle was unbuttoning her blouse. Under different circumstances she knew she'd be attempting to stop her, but something was encouraging her to allow Annabelle to do what she was doing. She even spread her arms when the last button was undone to allow her blouse to be removed—and again her hands began moving almost without her consent by reaching behind her to unfasten her bra. Seconds later, she had exposed her own breasts for Annabelle to put her hands on.

She sighed and leaned her head back, cupping her hands under her breasts, as Annabelle leaned down and began flicking a tongue over one of her nipples, which by now felt like a pair of pebbles on her chest. What the hell am I doing? she thought. I've never even been with a man, and here I am getting intimate with a woman; one I just met last night, no less! What does this mean? Have I really been a flaming lesbo all this time? No, a lesbian wouldn't have fantasized about Nathaniel the way she did. And nonetheless, she was allowing Annabelle to put her tongue on her nipples. But as Annabelle moved over to put her tongue on the other one, Elizabeth just stopped asking herself questions. Right now she just wanted this to keep happening.

In fact, she was already making an effort to keep this moving by beginning to unfasten her jeans. She took a small step back and bent down to slide her pants down her legs and stepped out of both them and her shoes in a single motion. She was now standing in front of Annabelle in nothing but her especially moist panties.

Annabelle began dabbing her fingers at the little wound on her neck, coating her fingers with her blood, and then proceeded to smear her own blood over her tits. Without an instant's hesitation, Elizabeth leaned in and began lapping away at Annabelle's blood, and once again felt her hand on the back of her head. And then she heard Annabelle's soft moan.

Now she felt Annabelle's other hand: running down her belly and into her panties. And then to ... there. Elizabeth gasped as that spot, which until now she had only allowed herself to touch, was gently caressed by Annabelle's expert hands.

Ahhh ... virgin. That explains it. Elizabeth looked up curiously into Annabelle's hypnotic green eyes. "That explains what?"

Annabelle smiled. Her smile was almost as alluring as her eyes. "Why you're so full of fear. It's natural to be afraid of what you don't know."

But you ... you like to be afraid, don't you? Elizabeth said nothing; she was just trying to chew on what Annabelle had just "said" to her. She thought back to the night she had accepted her brother's gift. She had said yes for one important reason: she was frightened. And still now, when she walked home from school in the dark on the streets, reveling in her own fear, that hadn't changed. And even now at this moment, as she shared this intimate moment with Annabelle, she was still afraid. Being afraid was what turned her on.

She nodded.

Annabelle smiled—and dropped to her knees. Before Elizabeth knew what was happening, her panties were on the floor, and Annabelle's mouth was moving in. Her heavy heart leapt for a moment as she saw what was about to happen.

Her head rolled back and her eyes fluttered shut. Her hands took on a life of their own, playing with her tits, and a soft groan escaped her mouth. Doing this with her hand was one thing. What Annabelle was doing now was, for lack of a better word, incredible. Her lips and tongue were not only warm and wet, but skilled. Annabelle knew what she was doing. This was starting to remind her of the shower she had last night, only this was different. This was so much more intense.

{divi} Are you enjoying this?


Are you still afraid?


Do you want me to make you cum?

"YES!" Elizabeth screamed, unable to hold back. Her fingers dug into Annabelle's scalp and she pulled, wanting to keep her permanently locked to her sex. She was only now beginning to notice the very loud noises that were coming from her own mouth. "YES!" she screamed again. And again. And again, until her orgasm came roaring through her like a volcanic blast.

Annabelle stood up, and once again brought her mouth to hers, this time bringing a whole new flavor with it. Elizabeth didn't even realize until their lips disengaged that they had their arms around each other. The feel of their flesh—and especially their tits—pressed together was an erotic thrill all its own. And at that moment, right their, warm in Annabelle's passionate embrace, she knew this night had changed her forever.



"I'd just like to be the first one to say: welcome to the Blood Rose."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa / Mult / Consensual / Romantic / Mind Control / Vampires / Group Sex / Orgy / Harem / First / Oral Sex / Slow /