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December 09, 2024

Dark Whispers 18

By Lydia Manx

My Spider Senses Are Tingling

Jackson stood directly in front of me, in what I found to be a mockingly submissive pose. His head tilted forward, allowing a curtain of his shoulder-length blond hair to cover one eye, leaving his remaining eye to roll up and down my body under an illusion of slightly bowing his head to me. I suppressed a shudder at the oily feeling that covered me as his gaze lingered on my body. This was one meal I was definitely looking forward to finishing down to the last drop. I could see why all previous feedings from him were cut off before he would even start to turn into one of us. This human had enough bad qualities without adding in vampiric strengths and thirst.

I looked over at Jasmine and said, in a fang-thickened voice, "You have a room for us to use?"

There was an immediate response visible all over Jackson's body. He was addicted to vampires worse than a crack addict was to his pipe. He recognized the sound of fangs with a near Pavlovian response. I couldn't see if he was salivating but I certainly was.

Jasmine hesitated for a second, taking her time to look straight into my eyes while trying to gauge my intentions, before saying slowly, with a bit of sorrow laced in for me to hear, "Jackson, lead Mistress Cassandra to the largest play room in the basement."

It was a rarity for a Southern California home to have any sort of basement, much less a multi-roomed one, but given what kind of friends Jasmine played with, I could see she would have a need for such a space.

Basements had a bad reputation for a good reason. We vampires adored dragging meals down for a lesson in terror when bored. I think it came from the decades we owned the underground, and lived in caves and catacombs across Europe. I have to add that we didn't always kill our hot snacks either. The ones we let go, we semi-wiped their brains leaving that little bit of fear to savor and feast upon whenever we were near. There were many horrified humans walking the earth with terrified minds that we supped up on by merely wandering near. It was a safe way to get a quick fix without the hassle of having to toss bodies into unmarked graves or to lay out an elaborate scenario for the cops to solve.

Jackson lifted his head and looked over at Harry and Morgan with a huge grin. Both the vampires stood silently unresponsive to Jackson's obvious taunt, them knowing more about of what I had in mind for the vampire toy, going well beyond his usual slap and tickle games. Jasmine's pet had been allowed a glimpse into the world we played and owned more than most humans, but had no true insight. Too sad that his last voyage through the darkside landscape would not be ending just how he envisioned, but more along the lines of my take on the world. My fangs were now fully out and Jackson could barely control the tremors running along his skin at the glimpse.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Jasmine," I said carefully, making sure to keep my tongue clear of my sharper teeth. There definitely was an art to it, and no need to spill any of my blood over Jackson. The only blood being shed in the next hour would be his. All of his.

Jasmine acknowledged my comment with a breathy, "Cassandra, Morgan has vouched for you. That means something to me. I just wish we had met under different circumstances. And I have to thank you for taking care of my problem."

A puzzled look was dancing behind Jackson's bright blue eyes as he weighed what Jasmine had said. His mind was too slow to catch up with the meaning. I had my hand firmly on his throat, raking my nails over his jugular, distracting him from finishing his thought. A quiver ran over his skin at my touch. He was shaking with lust and smelled like a full course meal to me.

"Lead on, Jackson," I commanded with feeling and hunger. Jackson completely lost track of the strange thing his former mistress had said as the thought of interacting with me was making him aroused, and in his own way, just as hungry. Too bad only one of us would leave satisfied. But then it wasn't my problem.

Morgan had been filling my head with permissions the entire time we had been standing chatting ever so politely in Jasmine's home. It seemed he thought he was using me to help his friend, the medium, get rid of her vampire toy that was a bit broken. While I was fully aware of this, I didn't care, as it was past my feeding time. Having seen Morgan and Harry get to take out Kirk I was a bit testy. Sure I could have waited to feed another week or so, but why deny myself when being offered such a morsel?

Jackson was unaware he had overplayed his hand with his keeper, and thought I was just a visitor ready to torment him for his personal fun and amusement. He had been running with vampires too long and had thought he was one of us. His mistake. I had to hand it to Jasmine for admitting she made an error. Morgan would have taken care of it for her, but was rewarding me for my patience with Kirk. I half-followed half-pushed Jackson out of the room and to the doorway to the basement.

The steps down to the basement were carpeted, but I could feel the handrail was worn with many hands traveling up and down. There was no light. I didn't need one, but I could feel Jackson stumbling to find his way down and still seem to be in control. At the bottom he flipped a light switch saying, "Voila!"

I guess I was supposed to be impressed he could find the switch?

Probably, given it was California and he was a blond. I grinned, revealing my fully-descended fangs. He shuddered and tried to pull me in for a kiss. I straight-armed him back into the first room I saw. Stupid human, thinking I wanted something more. Jackson was excited by my rough play, thinking it was just the 'usual.' Not intending to ruin that impression too quickly, I grinned and licked my lips slowly.

"God, Jasmine told me I had something special for tonight. When you walked in with those two guys I knew it was you. She knows my weaknesses." He threw me some look he probably thought was sexy. Just made me hungry and angry. His air of entitlement was really getting on my nerves. He had been kept privileged, shadowed by his vampire connections. But all I could taste on him was lust, evil, and stupidity. The stupidity would lessen the dinner, but I would use fear to add in for a full meal.

The basement room I had instinctively chosen was a fairly large room. From the way Jackson ran to flip on the light over by the king sized bed, it must have been the one Jasmine had intended for us to use. I noted that the carpet stopped at the threshold, and there was a drain in the center of the room. I could smell the fear, sex and blood that had freely flowed in this room and sunk down through the hole in the floor. My skin danced with energy of all the fear still held in the darkly painted walls. I knew then that Jackson had dealt out his own share of the pain and trauma that still haunted the walls.

Slowly I closed the door, then noisily slammed shut the deadbolt. Jackson made a slight sound in his throat from his spot sitting on the bed. Just the idea of being in a room with a vampire was causing him to tremble with anticipation.

Disregarding him completely, I went to the closet and opened it to see if it had what I needed. Otherwise I would simply have to improvise. The shelf had a familiarly shaped canvas bag, and I took a second to peek inside. Yup, all the tools any vampire needed. I inhaled deeply and could smell Morgan's touch on the handle. He must have had Jasmine bring it down for me ... They were pretty sure of me, and a tingle went down my spine as that sunk in to my brain. Games were definitely evident here, and I would have to figure out one of these nights if I really wanted to play or not.

Jackson had begun to strip automatically once he sat on the bed. I guess he was pretty used to calling the shots with all the visitors to the room. Gee, I was so going to enjoy the process of re-educating him for the little time he had left on this earth.

I do have to admit that Jackson had an extremely nice body. Obviously he worked out in some manner other than tormenting vampires for fun. His scars from being sliced and licked only made him more tempting. He was well aware of his impact as he carefully folded his button fly jeans and set them on top of the nightstand. The shirt he had half-closed when we arrived was quickly removed and tossed on top of the jeans. He was only wearing white jockey shorts when he turned to me and said, "You are still wearing too much. Strip for me."

It wasn't so much a request as it was a command. I let that slide. Vampires were not as body conscious as humans. We had been around for far longer than most, and pretty much had seen it all. I arched an eyebrow and meeting his gaze fully, I took off my clothes and hung them in the closet. I stood proudly wearing a matching set of black bra and underwear from a lovely little shop in the mall. Jackson tried to remain cool but his body gave away his desire.

I remained calm and walked over to him saying, "What makes you think you deserve the bed?"

I pushed a bit of vampiric power towards him and flicked a finger towards the chair in the corner. He jerked and walked stiltedly to the chair. Once he sat down I went behind him, "Jackson, you haven't been a good boy."

He nodded and replied, "Yes, mistress, does this mean I am going to be punished?"

He tried to reach up and grab me. I wasn't in the mood. I simply snatched up his hand and twisted. He whimpered saying, "Hey, too rough. My safe word is tennis." He smiled and winked.

I grinned and said, "Nice, I don't play tennis. Don't have the balls for it. But soon you won't either."

"What? Come on, didn't Jasmine tell you? I play rough and you play rough and we both get what we need." He was nearly whining.

I looked at Jackson and remained silent. He sat stiff in the chair while I wandered around him. I used vampiric domination to push at his soul. He was strong but I was stronger. He smiled up at me and said, "Yes, mistress, whatever you want."

The voice was coy and totally fake. His blue eyes glared at me with resentment and rage. He wanted me to be under his foot. From what I had felt and smelled in the room he usually was in charge. He thought the submissive behavior would get him the upper hand. He didn't have the whispers in my head saying, 'Do what you want... he's all yours.' I had from not only Morgan, but a shadow of permissions danced along my skin from Jasmine and the souls she held in her head. Jackson had been a very bad boy.






Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-12-31
Image(s) are public domain.
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