Part 5

Chapter 13: A prison without bars

Frankie had been welcomed into the fold with enthusiasm; initially Gina had just been relieved to have the situation back under control, and to be back in Joyce's good books. Then her love fought through the mists of dark control and re-surfaced, the lovemaking with Frankie was relaxed and normal. It wasn't the unnatural passion-fuelled spree she had experienced with Claudie, which had provided everything - except contentment. As the lovers lay comfortably in each other's arms they listened; their heightened hearing picked up the urgently escalating sighs from the study. Frankie moved languidly stretching against her contentment, and she spoke in a soft whisper.

"Are you yourself now?"

"More than I can remember recently" Gina replied, wondering at the words she spoke.

"Good, so how do we get out of this serious shit Gina?" a steady voice enquired.

"We can't, we are bound to Joyce, and bound to the night - this is our future - our home now" Gina's eyes brimmed with certainty.

Frankie said nothing, but her mind was racing; She could feel Joyce's influence inside her, cornering her will and pushing relentlessly to a remote place. At the same time the uninvited guest was pulling up the obscene desire, the need, and the all-consuming darkness...

"Shit, I'm getting us out of here some way, a sub by nature I may be, but you still need permission to be my mistress"

The bitter thought almost fell through her lips, but her mind grabbed it, and held tightly onto it. As much as it pained her, she could not trust Gina; she was just too far under the vampyres influence. Gina stirred and noticed the tears of frustration running down Frankie's cheeks

"What's wrong?" she asked tenderly.

"Ain't nothing, I'm just glad to have found you again"

At least thought Frankie, as she kissed Gina, that's mostly the truth!

Lesley drifted down from the high that Claudie had just given her, it was good but not spectacular; something was missing. She thought about the climatic shortcomings as she lay there panting. In the midst of the threesome she still felt alone. Her left hand unthinkingly drew circles in the moisture of Joyce's sex. She had come well but something was, well - unsatisfactory? What was missing? The experience in the rest room at the club was more intense; the sex was perverted, even worse (better) on the very edge of danger. She missed that edge, the adrenaline rush, and the fear!

That was what she needed; if Lesley wasn't to be one of the roost mates, a Wampyr she need the high from elsewhere. The answer was at once obvious, one name, one need one desire - Frankie. If Joyce wouldn't let her into the pack (for whatever unknown reason) she would find her highs in dominating the delicious redhead. Then she wouldn't be alone, it wouldn't matter that she was ostracized from the roost. But this could be dangerous, how would Gina and the leader react?

"Joyce I want to join you and the others!"

Lesley suggested quietly her fingers pausing their slippery circuit of the open slit.

"You shall, when I decree it, now carry on with the finger massage, my hunger rises again" Joyce commanded.

Lesley chose to ignore the command and instead stood.

"I'm going to talk with Frankie, I'll be back soon," she said with an absent air.

"I'll do it for you then"

There was a sudden intake of breath from a startled Claudie, who even though only half awake could sense that the upstart's challenge was unwise. A tiny Joyce rose to fill the space of the study.

"YOU WILL SERVE ME NOW! How dare you tell me what is convenient. SERVE ME GIRL!"

Joyce's voice was filled with the threat of thunder; her eyes glowed with a dull red passion.

Lesley obeyed instantly, and she fell to her knees, as her hands were directed to explore the wet cavern of Joyce's liquid sex.

"Now lay back girl, keep your calves on the floor and bend over backwards," Joyce said more calmly.

Once again the dominated girl complied, and crisply arched her back; her head and shoulders brushed the floor. Tenderly at first, and then with mounting thirst Joyce drank of Lesley's wetness, her tongue explored every detail of the vulva before it, and widened every orifice it searched. Lesley quivered like a string on a drawn bow. Seeing her passion Claudie moved in to twang the stiffly erect nipples - it was too much; Lesley peaked, again and again, and every climax brought the image caught in her minds eye into a sharper focus. The image was desire, it was complete lust, it was danger, and it was Frankie! Sitting between her legs in place of Joyce, her lips waiting eagerly for Lesley's amber ambrosia to flow.

Frankie moved from the warmth of the bed to the chill kitchen, to put a brew on for the both of them. Concentrating on the unfamiliar espresso machine, she failed to hear a new occupant sidle towards her. The slight tap on her bare shoulder sent her skywards with surprise, she span to find a grinning Lesley standing behind her.

"Can you make me one" she asked innocently.

"I'll think about it, if you promise not to creep around like that!" Frankie stuttered.

"For you I would promise anything"

Lesley smiled her reply, and uninvited ran her forefinger across the rounded slope of Frankie exposed right breast. She thought she could actually feel the freckles, how could that be possible? How could they raise to caress her fingertips so seductively? Feeling more adventurous the finger assaulted the crenulations below the heavy red teat.

"Can you stop that, you don't own me!" Frankie exploded, turning back to the job at hand "and make your own fucking drink"

Deliberately Frankie looked anywhere but at the surprised youngster. Lesley recovered her composure and tried to mimic Joyce.

"You will let me touch you I DEMAND it!"

Frankie grinned, and through the spread lips muttered with menace.

"Demand what you want girly, but the next time you touch me without asking I'll break you arm!"

The set of green eyes were unblinking below the russet hair, and glinted in defiance. Lesley backed away a little, her features a mask of confusion. The mask slipped and changed to astonished recognition.

"Your not one of us, something's wrong"

She turned urgently to leave the confines of the kitchen, and inform Joyce of Frankie's condition.

"Stop right there - I have a proposition for you" Frankie's firm voice echoed.

Lesley stopped and turned to listen. She chose to turn away from the teasing inner voice of Joyce, and towards the more certain rewards; the rewards that only Frankie could offer.

Chapter 14: A peek through the bars

Claudia relaxed, she felt calm, calm and supremely confident. There was no readily identifiable reason for this, but it felt so good. She rose and slipped on her clothes, it must be night she mused the air felt so vibrant. There was the distinct scent of sex in the air, but then again when wasn't there recently? She heard Joyce's voice and turned to the sound about to speak to her, but Joyce was nowhere to be seen! That was a little unsettling, but the sound soon faded. My there were strange acoustics in this old house. Then she heard it again, it was ethereal but irresistible, and the sound drew her - she left the study and padded to the lounge.

Joyce sat dwarfed in one of the comfortable armchairs.

"So you heard me, eventually" Joyce's voice now filled her head.

The small form said nothing but the monologue boomed on.

"You have some power, now is the time to use it. Claudie I need your assistance in uncovering the greatest find of our careers. A whole other civilisation unknown to scholars, I am path finding a new history. Will you join my quest?"

Claudia hesitated, normally she followed the senior archaeologist without question, but not this time; something dark beckoned her very soul.

Joyce did a seemingly unremarkable thing; she just shifted slightly and bared the tips of her small breasts. An invisible electrifying pulse leapt from the hard buds to the palms of Claudie's hands. She felt an intense need to feed, dumbly she gazed as the lifelines on her palms first smiled, and then opened to reveal the deeply serrated edges. The ecstasy of hunger was upon her, and her vision dimmed to a red smeared blur. She watched in fascination as someone (was it her?) moved her hands to the offered teats, the serrations caught against crenulated skin, tasted and then bit! Claudie experienced a mind fuck; her brain climaxed in swirls of kaleidoscopic intensity, and reality ran screaming from the room.

Claudie soared through clouds of red mist, a mist that reeked of cordite. Below her the fog cleared, and men lay dying on thousands of twentieth centaury battlefields - while dark beings scurried to and fro. No matter how hard she looked at them she could never quite make out the detail of the shadowy forms. Then away at breakneck speed, now swooping over virgin forest and up, up into the higher lands. She circled an unknown castle, and heard unfamiliar coarse tongues. On down to a pitiful peasant village, in the muddy street a woman knelt, crying in desolation.

"Sonja... Csejthe... Sonja!"

Once again all was swept away, and replaced by something frighteningly unmistakeable - Golgotha! The crucifixion, it was the final act of cruelty by man to god. This too in its turn faded, to be replaced by dancing throngs of gyrating fools prancing around a golden calf.

Finally a place of refuge appeared and Giza's dry, golden sands surrounded it. Claudie's tormented soul rushed through the hot winds towards the sanctuary of the giant geometric shape. She entered and scoured the ancient passages searching, always searching. When she found it - the beauty was breathtaking, she gulped in the sumptuous surroundings and marvelled at contents of the tomb. All to soon the sarcophagus summoned her, and Claudie's spirit rested safe, inside the warm red glow at the centre of the Khufu pyramid. Then she finally understood the Wampyr had always stood beside man, urging on the baseness of his nature, feeding from the pitiful weakness of his desires. She understood her fear of the darkness, the coldness that Joyce had forced upon her and screamed in fury at her eternal damnation. The archaeologist finally understood history in all its bleakness and futility. Thankfully her senses collapsed under the impact of total desolation, and coma claimed her.

Something moved at her feet, it was indistinct; she screwed up her eyes and desperately focussed on the shadows gathered before her. They became clearer; one figure knelt, while the other, legs akimbo crouched over its accepting mouth. A smell filled the air; it was familiar, acidic and spicy in its perfume. Gina was instantly snapped from drowsiness, unwillingly she was to witness the act that, although often asked to perform she had never enacted. With mounting repulsion she watched as Lesley emptied her bladder into Frankie's waiting mouth. How could she? After their recent passion how could she prostitute her desire in front of her like this?