Click on image to enlarge.
by Kayden McLeod
Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica
Description: Kelly needs to get herself a fetish. A newly-converted vampire, she's quiet, conservative, and prone to panic attacks. When her friend drags her to a vampire fetish club, she meets Marcus, a walking manual on sexual pleasure. Marcus is captivating and dangerous and knows exactly what he wants. With a single-minded purpose, he scoops Kelly up from her abnormal, disillusioned life and shows her the pleasures of immortality. His obsession with her body knows no limits, and her desire only burns hotter every time he touches her. She drives him insane with the blinding need to hear her scream his name with absolute abandon. Marcus shows her the true world of vampires, which is more magical than Kelly had ever dreamed.
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Eternal Press, 2010 2010
eBookwise Release Date: February 2010
92 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [421 KB]
Reading time: 264-370 min.
Sara yelled to me over the music that stretched to every corner of the club. "Kelly, seriously this time. Look at his ass, like goddamn. Have you ever seen anything more edible than that? I could really take a bite out of him, preferably repeatedly."
It barely sounded above a whisper to me. The sound waves were going through my head as if they were using it for a bongo drum.
The strobe lights moved in wide arches and slow lazy circles over the sweaty, straining bodies in the crowd. The predominantly red lights created a dark atmosphere of needful sin. A girl could get into a whole heap of trouble in a place like this, but then again, apparently that was what I was here for.
I was out of my element, and while I wanted Sara's strength of will and bold brashness, I didn't know if I had what it took to be here and look like I belonged.
But in my universe, there weren't many places Sara and I fit in at all. If the people around us had any inclination to what we were, the matter of whether or not we belonged here would be the least of our problems.
In this world of fetish, there was a great deal of black and white and very little grey area. The feeling of relaxed sexuality hung in the air, tempting us to degrees that we wouldn't normally have taken anywhere else. It warped our perceptions of the world outside these walls, making us forget who we were the very moment we passed through the front doors.
"You've said that about every other guy here tonight," I kidded, unsure if I had spoken loud enough for her to hear, but without the self-confidence to yell in a public place, no matter how thrumming and loud the beat was.
Sara adjusted her leather and steel-spiked bracelets that encircled her wrists as she surveyed the crowd. Window shopping was how she referred to it. Could I ever be that brazen?
I could barely meet anyone's eyes, let alone admire their assets.
I hoped for tonight I could be someone else or I wasn't going to last the next hour. If not, I certainly wasn't going to meet the high expectations Sara had set for me.
I was just a small town girl, trapped in the big city that wasn't forgiving to me. I stared at my newly-black nails, the length glowing red under the laser lights that were bisecting the people and their skimpily clad bodies.
"So what do you think of this place?" Sara leaned into me and slid an arm around my waist.
I was hiding, sitting on a small bar tabletop, the deepest one into the shadows I could find. Here I could better see the others, but I was shrouded to cover my incessant shyness. I knew my timidity irritated Sara, but she refrained from complaining about it this time.
She was trying to bring me into this slowly. I had so many problems dealing with my needs in the past, and she had finally figured out leaving it up to me wasn't working. To me, my needs were disgusting, but very necessary for the continuation of my existence.
"I have never been more nervous in my life. In fact, I doubt I would be this scared if you had dragged me to a porno convention naked," I replied. I could see Sara turning the possibility over in her mind. Like I needed to give her even more ideas on how to "broaden my horizons".
"We could do that." Sara grinned evilly, and my stomach shrank at her expression.
I knew I had just pushed her to measures she wouldn't normally have taken, if I had just kept my mouth shut.
"Or you could just grow some balls while we are here and play. Possibly even take advantage of what this place has to offer," Sara said with her voice filled with meaning.
Play was the optimum word when I thought of those around me.
Looking around, it wasn't hard to figure out I would've been better off in a library or a PG rated movie. I wasn't even into horror flicks, and certainly not into leather and S&M.
Even still, the RedLine was a cool and upbeat fetish club in Vancouver, British Columbia that made every Goth inclined person, S&M enthusiast, and plain open-minded person in the Lower Mainland gravitate towards its ambience of domination and subservience.
Everywhere I looked, every flavour was more than adequately taken care of.
A particularly gorgeous man was grinding up against a very tall brunette woman, whom I had seen with a few different men since we had arrived. They both were having fun, and I envied them that.
"You know, you'll have to deal with your issues sometime. In our line of existence, they won't make your life any easier. We are women of excellent calibre and extraneous circumstances. It is time you faced that. It has been a little over a month, Kel, and you should be more relaxed by now." Sara huffed at her black bangs, her deep caramel toned eyes flashing tiny flames of frustration.
The tips of her fangs were revealed when she smiled, but many people in this place wore fake fangs, so she blended right in with them.
I tried to adjust the barely-there, snug black top Sara had talked me into. I hoped to somehow make it cover more of me, but it just wasn't going to happen.
My hair was down, thankfully hanging around me. For that decision alone, I was eternally grateful. I had come here with no expectations, and now I was just waiting for someone to point at me and laugh hysterically. My anxiety fluttered in my stomach, as I was prone to some panic attacks.
Or more to the point, they had increased dramatically when we moved to the city. Up in the interior, where there hadn't been any neighbours for miles, I had never had this problem. Well, most of the time anyway.
"Yea, I know, but this is like throwing me into the deep end of a pool, without first showing me how to swim," I responded without hope. I smiled unwillingly when Sara laughed at how depressed I sounded about it.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me off the table with a too-familiar mischievous gleam on her face.
What could she possibly have planned for me now?
It was then that a pretty blonde woman wrapped in a leather bodysuit walked by us. A huge, intimidating man followed closely behind, who wasn't even qualifying as dressed in my opinion, unless you included just leather underwear.
The oddest part was the thin leash he held, attached to a thick collar around the woman's throat, the same design of leather and steel as Sara's bracelets. I wasn't the one wearing it, yet I was embarrassed about the symbolism, the mark of being controlled.
Sara turned back to me, the merriment plain on her face. She was obviously debating on collaring me. She was right. I needed to relax. I was stressed and extremely tired all the time. I hadn't been sleeping well. The desperate hunger had been gnawing at me continuously, wearing away at my resolve. If it weren't for the fact that I was severely malnourished, I would be at home in bed, where I should be. An easy meal was the only reason Sara had convinced me to come here.
Another woman walked by with no shirt on at all. Her ample breasts hypnotically swaying as she moved.
I gawked like any outsider would have done, labelling me "other", when prudence would have been safer and wiser. No one else even seemed to notice the half-naked woman, but people noticed me ogling her.
"It is only forbidden to show skin below the belt, up top is allowed. It's legal here, even outdoors, but not many do, whether they are allowed to or not. Unless they're at Wreck Beach, which I should take you to, even at night. Let's go dance." Sara dragged me out into the middle of the dance floor, gyrating her hips to the turbulent beat of the music as she went.
How did one dance to techno and not look like an utter idiot? I knew it could be done because I was watching various prime examples of it, but I also knew I couldn't talk myself into some of the stuff displayed so eloquently around me. Even when I tried, it didn't even come close to the fluidity and graceful movements that flowed from one to the next in a symphony of motion.
Sara did a series of dance manoeuvres that looked oddly like an epileptic seizure. Staring at her, I didn't know whether to laugh or call an ambulance. I then understood why they called it "trance music".
Between the beat, the people and the atmosphere, our senses were tranquil, almost unresponsive to the normal stimuli the world around us produced. It almost felt like a bomb could explode and not one of us would notice.
Sara took my hands in hers, attempting to shift my body in a more accurate rendition of those around us. Something in me let go, for once forgetting there were so many people here to see me do anything that would draw attention to myself.
It was the last thing my fragile contentment needed.
My hips swayed, finding a sensual rhythm that portrayed the music in mobility instead of sound, or so I hoped.
With Sara, I could be who I wanted to be, and she wouldn't laugh or think me a bit off. I just tended to forget that when my anxiety started to choke me.
But maybe there was intelligence to her words. It was time for me to embrace what this life had given me. My eyes surveyed the sexually charged crowd, contemplating who my target would be, if I brought myself to choose one at all.
It was too bad I didn't know the decision had already been taken from my hands. An unknowing shiver went through me, but I wasn't aware of the man staring at me with feral hunger in his eyes.
"Wowee, Kel. Look at her, I love that dress," Sara said loudly, pointing at the poor woman.
I laughed when the woman thought Sara was checking her out and not the dress. When the woman winked, Sara laughed, but she ignored the polite beckoning to come over.
I knew Sara delved into both sexes when it suited her. She loved being bi-sexual. Being able to do what she wanted, with whom she wanted, and when she wanted.
However, I was here, and she wouldn't ditch me for a woman. I was straight, and I was relatively sure I would remain that way.
"I think she likes you." I grinned.
"I think so too, but you are my main concern this evening. I am not looking to get laid, but your needs must be met before the bar closes tonight." Sara waved off the woman, instantaneously forgetting she existed.
I thought that rude, but who I was to say anything?
* * * *
* * * *
Dancing has a way of letting you shed your inhibitions, even if it is for just a split-second in time.
Acting like silly teenagers with Sara on the dance floor somehow let me forget everything else. I would be forever grateful to her for this one perfectly free moment.
"This has to be the best meat market in the world," Sara said, staring behind me with far more approval than I had seen from her yet.
I turned my head to follow her gaze, my long, straight dirty blonde hair fanning about behind me and whipping someone else in the back.
I turned, apologizing immediately before I had fully brought him into view. The man was about my height, with warm brown eyes that seemed friendly.
"Don't worry about it. Where's your boyfriend?" His eyes checked out the space all around me, paying special attention to any man that could be the fabled boyfriend.
His eyes rested on Sara, and then he smiled. I could almost see the wicked thoughts going on behind his eyes.
"My friend and I are here alone." I cringed when I realized how childlike I sounded.
"Really?" he answered with a licentious smile.
His eyes shot behind me and went wide before he stepped away from me like someone had violently struck him. His hands came up in a pushing motion I didn't understand.
I stared at him in dumb shock, not sure what I had done to inspire such a reaction. I swallowed thickly, wondering when I would actually pass the borders of socially inept into normality.
"Girl, that hottie is staring at you somethin' furious," Sara said, as she turned my body to where she wanted me to look, once again forgetting the plebeians around her, like the man had never existed.
When I glanced briefly at the man beside me, he was staring in the same direction as Sara. I could've sworn that I had seen a flash of real fear in his eyes before he turned back to his friends. He didn't look at me again.
Emerging from the horde was three of the most absolutely gorgeous men I had ever seen. Given tonight, and the place, that said something.
The one in front was the tallest by far, well over six feet in height. I had to crane my neck to take all of him in, even from a distance. The two who flanked him were as rough and dangerous looking as he seemed to be.
My heart began to pound, and my throat went terribly dry. His bluish-green eyes zoomed directly to my face, never seeing Sara at all.
Even without looking, the crowd parted for them. Their importance was etched on every flicker of sinew and muscle, perfectly displayed and mouth-wateringly erotic.
They stopped just short of us, watching us as we did them, like we were from a different species. But when I really thought about it, we were.