Behind Closed Doors

***

5.

I have never been a heavy sleeper, a few hours a day have been more than enough and my new condition doesn't seem to have changed that. I wake up around three in the afternoon on the blanket my Master has lent me to sleep on in his living room. I am still horny and terribly hungry.

I peak inside the bedroom but the lid on the Master's coffin is closed shut.

I go back to the living room and sit on the couch. Having nothing else to do, I start playing around with my fangs. They are quite fascinating. In their normal position, they are just twice as long as the rest of my teeth. Noticeable, I guess, but pretty manageable if I do not open my mouth too much when I talk. But then, as soon as I want to feed or get aroused they double in size. In this long position they tend to provoke a severe speech impediment. I'll have to work on that. Anyway I'll start working on it as soon as I feed because I am definitively starving.

After a while I decide to go back to my flat to have a shower and clean up a bit. Maybe the water will take my mind off these feeding urges. The Master is still asleep and I seem to be in charge of most of my actions. I must confess that despite the fact that I really love the Master and that I love being his puppet, being a pack of clay in his hands for him to mold, I do also enjoy a bit of free will.

Between my clothes I find my phone. I had completely forgotten about it. I have eight messages, all from Sam. It's a fast crescendo of insults finishing with the promise that I will never work in this city again. I text him a laconic: "fuck you". I think I am officially unemployed now. But the Master will provide for me...

I turn on the TV and start watching a game. After a while I switch channels, it's a cooking show, I switch channels again, a movie, a news report, another game. Damn I am so hungry... There's no way to take this out of my mind. I scratch my neck where the Master bit me. I feel an electric bolt surging all over my body. If I wasn't so hungry I would definitely explore this feeling further.

The sun is starting to go down between the buildings. I decide to dress and walk up to the main hall. It doesn't get much light from the sun and by now it should be safe for me.

Infinite glory and divine inspiration! An angelical vision from another plane is waiting for me in the dark hall of my building.

Rose, the Sterns oldest daughter is checking the family mail. The blonde locks falling over her slender neck, the grace of her bubbly ass, her perfectly toned hips, everything in her is an invitation to fuck. I am about to jump and rape her between the mail boxes when suddenly I sense my Master in my head.

"Ssssh Marisol, calm down, this one I will need you to control, you will bend her will, you will make her your slave."

Hidden in the shadows that lead to the basement I clap my tongue to attract the blonde's attention. When she turns around, scrutinizing the darkness I am standing in, I catch her eyes and start pushing. I sense some resistance but the Master is in her mind by my side and he guides me through the mental defenses of the young woman.

"Rose, leave that, we'll pick it up when we come back."

The girl's blue eyes are locked into mine, she wants to look away, she wants to go away but I do not let her. She's my prey and she will offer me her flesh, her blood. She resists a little bit more but I can sense her will weakening.

"Rose, we have to go now."

Finally the dam breaks and the girl's mind explodes into my own. I become her, she becomes me. I am submerged by a violent rush of memories and strong emotions. With her I feel the shame of the time she got caught shop lifting, I feel the arousal of her first kiss, I feel the love for her mother, for her father, I feel both the jealousy and the respect she has for her sister. I feel the teenager's confusion. I feel the youth.

"Yoo-hoo; Rose?"

She's mine, I can see her memories. I start throwing feelings around, I test my powers by sending a powerful stimulus of pleasure to her guts, her lips part letting out a faint moan. The hall's atmosphere fills with the delightful smell of the girl dripping pussy. I smile, I am good at this. The Master is proud; he gently encourages me to claim my prize, our prize. I step forward. I will fuck her now and drain her and...

"ROSE, damn it! Your father and your sister are waiting for us in the car."

What? Who said that? How long has Mrs. Stern been holding the door to the street open?

The woman suddenly realizes that I am here too. She nods her head towards me.

"Good evening Marisol, I'm sorry but we have to go, we have a dinner reservation, I hope you're doing well, I really hope we get a chance to catch up later." she tells me before grabbing her daughter's hand and dragging her behind her into the dying light of the day.

A confused Rose, bordering orgasm and so willing to offer me her body and soul, looks at me through the glass. I let her go but I am seriously looking forward to our next meeting.

"Soon," I tell her silently.

To my frustration and hunger adds up the Master's disapproval. He doesn't say anything but instead of the unconditional love he usually fills me with, all I can feel now is deep resentment. Not so unconditional after all...

I am about to return to my flat, when, coming from the upper floors, I hear panting and the distinctive clicking of animal's claws on the cheap marble of the stairs. I sniff the air: two very distinctive smells hit me: the first one is similar to a soaked carpet full of shit, not so pleasant; the other one, on the other hand is a delicious fragrance of sweat and woman's perfume...

Exactly what the doctor prescribed.

"Marisol," Gael Danford is standing at the top of the first flight of stairs holding Ingrid, her cocker, by a leash.

"Mrs. Danford," I answer.

I smile, she smiles. Mrs. Danford and I, despite the age difference, have been very good friends since the beginning. Since I helped her take her crates and furniture to her new flat after all the friends that had promised to help her move in had left her stranded.

"How are you?" she asks me, "I haven't seen you in ages."

Technically we had a coffee last week.

"I'm fine Mrs. Danford," I answer none the less.

"Are you sure? You look pretty pale to me. You should really give up that job of yours; you need to get more sun. Anyway why don't you drop by sometime this week so I can offer you a glass of wine or something?"

I can sense the Master growing impatient.

"How about now?"

"Now? Well I was about to take Ingrid out for her little business but..."

Looking her into the eyes, I concentrate on wiping out the last five seconds. I try again.

"How about now?"

I can feel she's a bit a confused, she wants to answer the same thing she just did but I do not let her.

"Now? Well... Of course, it will be my pleasure."

***

6.

There's something strange going on. When I reach the second floor, I start losing contact with the Master. At first his presence is a little less strong but as we reach the third floor he completely disappears. It's both quite disturbing as I have grown used to him being in my mind all the time and absolutely exhilarating. While this afternoon while he was sleeping, I could still feel his warm presence lingering about my mind, now I find myself all alone.

I am so confused that I do not even hear Gael talking to me.

"Marisol! It's the third time I ask: red or white?"

"Red," I answer mechanically.

She pauses; it's true I am more of the white wine type... Or at least I used to be. She shrugs, grabs the bottle, two glasses and brings them to the large kitchen counter. She pours me a glass and looks at me.

"Mi niña," she starts in here aproximative Spanish, "you actually look pretty sick," she takes my hand, "and you feel so cold too."

I push my glass to a side and take hers out of her hands. She's still inspecting me.

"And what the hell is that?" she says touching the two closing puncture wounds on my neck.

I shiver, closing my eyes as the memory of the Master using me as his feeding vessel overwhelms me and I moan. When I reopen my eyes, Gael is staring at me. She looks confused; her hand is still on my neck, still lingering above the bite marks.

"Marisol?"

I lean over the table, smiling.

"Yes, Gael,"

"Marisol? Are you... flirting with me?"

My hand combs through her hair.

"I think we're already past that, don't you think?"

"Marisol? What are you doing to me?"

I grab the back of her head and drag her towards me. My eyes are locked into hers, her mind is mine to take but I do not have to force her too much. She has always had a repressed lesbian fantasy and apparently, I've been the object of that fantasy in quite a few dreams.

Our lips touch. Once, twice, she pulls back.

"Marisol, are you going to fuck me?"

"Try and stop me," I answer before burying myself back between her warm luscious lips.

I pull on her top, her breast are still defying gravity. I lick her chin, her neck. My fangs extend leaving a pair of thin red lines down her cleavage. I grab her erected nipple between my teeth. She moans.

The Master exits his coffin.

I slip a hand into her trainers, her untrimmed hairy bush trembles under my fingers; I make small circles around her clit with my palm, my index dives in and out of her moist inside. She is all mine, she screams, she comes.

The Master leaves his basement.

She takes over, I let her. Pulling on my hair, she pushes me back against the counter. She's rabid, she starts licking my neck, sucking on the bite marks. I lose control of myself, I come.

The Master reaches the ground floor. I start sensing his presence inside my mind.

I take over again; I slam her against the counter and sink to my knees. The face between her legs I drink her cum, sucking as hard as I can, trying to milk her of her succulent juices. I flip her on her belly displaying her muscular ass, just below my nose. My tongue starts exploring her butt hole.

The Master reaches the second floor.

"Bite her," he tells me.

I bite. She arches her back forcing my fangs deeper in.

"Drink her," he continues.

I drink her. She screams my name.

"Drain her."

"No."

"Drain her."

"Please no..."

"Drain her," he says finally reaching the third floor.

Left with no choice I drain her. She dies coming.

The door opens behind me and the Master storms my friend's flat. He grabs me by the neck and lifts me high above the ground.

"Never again!" he spits before throwing me on the kitchen's counter.

He spreads my legs and buries his fangs into my thigh. The pain is so intense that my pussy dries in an instant. My scream resonates all the way down to the street.

With a wave of his hand he closes the door of the flat.

I suffer behind closed doors.

***

7.

To the pain succeeds the confusion and the hunger, the confusion and the love, the hunger and the lust. The Master won't allow me to feed; not until he gets what he needs, but soon he will get what he needs and then I will be allowed to feed for myself. I know this because the Master is love and he wouldn't let me suffer this much hunger if there wasn't a good reason.

He finishes licking the bite holes in my thigh before wiping Gael's blood from his lips. He looks up, sniffs, turns around.

I am about to ask him what is happening.

"Hush," he tells me silently.

I listen. My heightened senses do not pick up anything at first but finally I hear them: two voices, across the hall.

"-Did you hear that?-"

"-Yes, what was it?-"

"-The hell if I know!-"

"-Should we call the police?-"

The eyes of the Master are two tiny portholes into hell.

"You will go get them; you will get their souls for me. I do not want to spend longer than needed in this hole. You will get them for me and you will never again disobey me."

My answer is useless, the Master is my entire world and I have a hard time understanding how I did even imagine disobeying him. He slowly turns to mist and disappears through the bedroom door. I can feel him slipping away from me, slipping back to his lair, to his soil in the basement.

I turn my attention back to the voices on the other side of the hall. I can still hear the Martinez.

"-No we can't call the police, we can't get involved, if we get involved it will end up backfiring. It will be our fault,-" Mr. Martinez says.

"-But the scream, it sounded so much like Marisol, if she's in trouble we need to help her.-" Mrs. Martinez answers.

"-Okay, let me check first and then we can call the police or the ambulance or whatever we need to call.-"

Cautiously, Mr. Martinez exits his flat; he walks to the door and knocks as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. I try to stand to clean up a bit to receive him correctly but the Master has left me too weak.

"Come in," I whisper, repeating a scene that happened to me just a day ago.

He pushes the door, slips the head in the opening and sees me, half naked, covered in blood lying on the kitchen counter. He's about to scream but I manage to get a grip on his mind. A puppet in my hands, he walks to the counter and wraps his arms below my knees and shoulders. I have him walk me to the couch in the living room. I steal a kiss from him. I can feel my strength slowly coming back. My hand falls on his pants. I do not know if he is a pervert or if I unintentionally triggered the pleasure centers of his mind but his pants are full of lust, hard throbbing lust. Through the fabric of his old worn off jeans, I start stroking him. I guide his hands over the wounds the Master left me on my thighs and I have him caress me.

He grunts when I force him to bend over, to offer me his neck. I strike and start drinking. His blood is warm and good. His blood is strong, strong as his worker's hand that has neglected the Master's markings and is now massaging with expertise my wet pussy.

"-Marisol, mijita, not so fast, take your time, I'm all yours...-" he whispers to my ear.

And indeed he is all mine and satiated I push him away. And I help him with his belt, with his pants, with his boxers, because I want him in me, I want his fatherly dick to reap my ass.

To make it easier on him and me I take his member in my mouth; I suck on it, I spit on it; I lubricate it as well as I can. My dripping pussy leaks between my butt cheeks and when finally I feel it is ready; I put my legs over his shoulders offering my crack hole.

For the first time in his life, Jose Martinez takes a woman not the way God intended and I can see that beyond my control over his mind, he likes it, a lot. The blood pouring down his neck onto his shirt splashes all over me each time he thrusts his dick into my ass. And I scream, and he grunts, and soon we both come.

I wrap my trembling legs around his waist bringing him down to my thirsty fangs and once again I drink from him. But Mr. Martinez is not Josh or Jean or Jane or Gael and soon the flow of his blood dries up. He dies.

As I ravel in the pleasure of the kill, in the strength of the man, in the delights of the dying soul, I can feel the Master rejoice in the distance.

But is it a feeling or is it my imagination? Did the Master actually commune with me in this killing? Or is it just me imagining the Master's love in my mind?

I try to establish contact, but nothing comes back and suddenly, once again I am submerged by the power of my freedom and I realize that I need to get rid of the Master.

***

8.

Mrs. Martinez looks very preoccupied when I find her sitting in the dark in her living room.

"-Jose?-"

"-No, Mrs. Martinez, it's me Marisol.-"

I stand behind her. She reminds me of my mom.

"-Where is he? Are you all right? We heard you screaming and he went to check on you and now he's been gone for ten minutes and I heard you screaming again...-"

"-Shh Mrs. Martinez, don't worry everything is going to go just fine. I promise.-"

My fingers are playing with her locks. Her dark hair is held in a tight bun.

"-But where is my Jose?-"

"-Don't worry for him, he is alright now.-"

I kneel behind the couch, my nose dives in the back of her neck.

"-Marisol, what happened? Your scream was absolutely terrifying.-"

"-Yes, I know, but it's all over now."-

My tongue darts between my lips and starts drawing figures all over the warm neck skin of the middle aged beautician. She carries the smell of cheap shampoo and lotions; she carries the smell of a lot of other women.

Surprised she turns around and for the first time she sees me, she sees me naked, she sees the blood of her husband all over my face but all in all, all she sees is my deep red eyes, penetrating eyes. She tries to struggle but I am far too powerful, and she submits to me.

I seat by her side. In the darkness of her flat I take the time to observe her. Despite time she always took good care of her and where others crumble with age, she actually grew more beautiful, more classy, more womanly. I like her style.

I lick her mouth tasting her deep red lipstick; I lick her eyes, tasting her eyeliner.

"-Do you like that?-"

"-Hum, hum,-" she answers.

She's completely under my spell. I make her kneel.

"-Will you do anything for me?-"

"-Hum, hum,-" she answers.

I push her face between my legs.

"-Do you want some of Jose too-"

"-Hum, hum,-" she answers.

And understanding my unspoken order she drinks the cum of her man, she drinks his blood and his sweat, the last vestiges of his life. She understands all this and she cries and as she cries I come and I come.

"-Are you sad?-"

"-Yes a little bit,-" she answers.

"-Do you want me to make it all go away? -"

"-Yes I would love that,-" she answers.

I climb down from the couch and join her on the floor of her living room. I push her on her back, on the cold floor and slowly, very slowly, I take off the buttons of her white blouse. One by one, just like a theatre curtain they reveal the magnificent show of Mrs. Martinez' breasts.

I play a bit with her nipple, I bite her. She moans. I lick my way up to her neck and bite her again. She purrs. With the steady flow of her blood filling me, my hand trails up her legs to her soaked stockings. I tear through the fabric and push two fingers in. She starts crying again but of bliss this time.

So good, so delicious, so close to death but this one the Master won't have. I do not care what it costs me, but this one will be loyal to me. She will be my agent in the world and she will find a way to get rid of the Master for me.

I let her go and with her blood still smeared all over my lips I ask her the same question my Master asked me:

"Will you be mine?"

And she answers yes.

So I tear through my wrist with my fangs, I shove my hand under her nose and I force her to drink, to drink some of her own blood, some of her husband's, some of Gael's and more importantly, some of mine.

And I spend the rest of the night helping her adjust, accepting the change, the transformation into my daughter of darkness, my own little vampire, my own little slave... No wait, I am not the Master, I am her bigger sister. Yes a sister, someone to trust and someone to love.

***.

9.

I am back in my flat and the sun is slowly rising over the city.

Of course I had to go and see the Master. As I was going down the stairs I was terrified that I could incriminate myself; that my own mouth would give up my dirty little duplicity. But apparently parenthood is a liberating phase for a vampire. And despite the absolute reverence I still hold the Master in, I manage to keep a strange form of free will that compartmentalizes my mind. On one side I am the Master's little lap dog, and on the other I am plotting to destroy him. Also good to know the notion of "soul" is not as literal as the Master seems to believe. He took me doggie style and covered my back with bite marks. But he seemed pleased as he went back to his bed releasing me for the evening.