Blood Whore

The shadows were longer on this end of town, Dougal thought as he drove through the dead warehouse district. And he wouldn't have this area any other way than shady. He was here as much for the dark as for the blowjobs. He didn't want to be seen dumping his loads down the necks of low-cost crack whores, but his wife kept a tight grip on the family finances and would know immediately if he was courting pricy call girls in expensive hotel rooms. These receptacles for his lust were cheap enough he could pay out of his Starbucks budget.

When pressed, he'd admit he loved his wife, but if she'd just put out a little more, skip a few desserts and drop a few pounds, there'd be no need for him to put his cock in other mouths. He was a good enough husband to be ashamed of seeing hookers on the side, but he deliberately prided himself in only using their mouths. He never fucked them. In addition to the greater risk of disease full-on sex entailed, or so he assumed, it felt less unfaithful to his wife somehow to just face-fuck these whores.

And the women that he found on the streets? Well, they were going to do it anyway, and if he helped them score some food or the next hit of whatever they were on to make their lives bearable, it was almost a good deed.

Okay, he knew that was all bullshit. The truth was he needed them as much as they needed him.

He slowed his truck down as he approached the alleyway between two seemingly derelict warehouses. The black hole seemed to vomit its darkness out onto the sidewalk. He shuddered to think what happened in that deep, dark hole, but some of his best cocksuckers had been found standing around the edges of that cavity. And one of the worst too, he remembered.

The last time he'd been in this district, he'd been blown by a woman who wept her way through a sad blowjob, smacking and grinding her near-toothless gums on his needy cock for what seemed like forever before finally forcing his release. She'd slobbered all over his underwear and he'd had to sneak the briefs through the laundry without his wife seeing the tell-tale cum stains. For that, the women tapped him for fifty, and he paid it more out of pity than satisfaction.

He stopped the truck in front of the impenetrable darkness of the alley. The street light glinted off ghostly white hair as a figure emerged from the gap between buildings. Fuck, it was the toothless whore. Screw that, Dougal thought. She was making her way toward the passenger side of his truck, and Dougal made ready to fish in other waters. He'd been half-a-second from shifting into drive when he saw her turn as if someone forcefully told her to leave. She slipped back into the shadows.

Dougal hadn't decided on what to do yet when there was a decisive knock on the driver-side window. He jumped in his seat in surprise, always afraid of an overzealous cop on patrol or an aggressive pimp pushing his wares on him.

Instead, there was a young man with a pale face under a tousled mop of short black hair. His eyes were set deep in their sockets, shaded under well-defined black eyebrows. He had a straight nose and wide lips curled into a slight but reassuring smile. Strange to think, but he was handsome in a dark way. He looked about twenty.

Dougal stared at him a moment, meeting the stranger's eyes, before pressing the button to lower his window.

"I know what you want," the young man said. His voice was soft, but it carried confidence.

"Oh, uh, what do you mean, you know what I want?" Dougal heard his own voice and it sounded high and weak.

"Do you think I don't know what you want?" The young man looked amused. "You'd better tell me why you're here then."

This could be an undercover cop. Dougal needed a plausible story. Instead, still caught in the young man's glare, he babbled out the whole truth.

"I'm here to get a blowjob."

Dougal turned crimson. He'd never told anybody that he came to this end of town, not his best friend, not his brother, and he certainly didn't tell anyone that he paid for oral sex. Now, he'd just admitted it to a complete stranger who seemed able to compel the truth out of him just with a look.

"Exactly what I thought," the young man said. "Do you have twenty dollars?"

"Sure," Dougal said, reaching for his wallet without thinking.

"No. Wait. That will come later. Can I join you in your truck?"

The truth was that Dougal had paid a male junkie to suck him a few months before when, after an hour, no woman had come out of the alley. There had been nothing wrong with the blowjob, but the experience had been uncomfortable for him. He felt physically threatened by having another man in his truck and feared being overpowered, robbed, carjacked, maybe even raped. In this district, where the police seemed to have abandoned all semblance of involvement, who would help him? Then there was the matter of embarrassment. If he survived, how would he explain being in the area in the first place? His wife would and it would be that much worse if the offence was committed with another man.

"Yes," Dougal said to the young man. "Please get in."

A voice inside him screamed. What was he doing? This man was no giant, but he looked wiry and lean under that black pea coat. He could be strong and fast.

The slim man crossed in front of the truck, momentarily illuminated in the headlights, casting a long shadow in front of the vehicle. Dougal toggled a button on the inside of his door to unlock the passenger side. The young man opened it and seemed to glide inside. He did not fasten his seatbelt and Dougal didn't ask him to, even if there would have been a small comfort to be had knowing that the stranger was secured to his side of the truck.

"Uh, where to?" Dougal asked as if this was his first time doing anything like this.

"Three blocks down, there's an abandoned department store. Turn right. Two blocks over, there's another warehouse block. Behind the buildings, there's a narrow service road nobody uses anymore. We can park there."

The confidence of the voice was strange to Dougal's ear. Such a young man just didn't usually command such a tone with someone older. Most people desperate enough to give blowjobs for drug money were usually subservient, almost eager to please if eagerness would get them a fix. Something about this man was different.

Dougal eyed him uncomfortably out of the side of his eyes. He should have noticed straight away that his passenger was actually well-dressed and clean. His coat and pants were spotless. His hair was neither matted nor greasy. His face was not just clean, but almost luminescent in its pallor.

"You're going to miss the turn."

Dougal returned his attention to the road, catching his turn by making a manoeuvre that would have been dangerous if anyone else was on these roads, but hardly anyone was.

"Don't do that again," the young man said. There was no anger in the reproof. It was simply an order, and Dougal detected that it was given by one accustomed to obedience.

He even found himself muttering an apology, but there was no response from his rider.

What is wrong with me?

Dougal reflected that there was something very frightening in the young man, but even his fear was being suppressed by something else. He analyzed that. What was submerging his fear of the strange man sitting beside him?

No way, Dougal thought.

Okay, so I have a hard-on. I'm about to get a blowjob, right? That's normal. Isn't it? But Dougal knew it wasn't normal for him. He expected to go soft into a male mouth, harden with the stimulation and to eventually come, but he believed that was all simply perfunctory. He didn't actually get aroused at the thought of a man sucking his cock. Or at least, he hadn't until now.

"Turn left at that alley. It will take you to the service road in back."

Dougal obeyed.

A moment later, they were behind one of the warehouses, parked between a stack of skids and a loading dock. The road serviced warehouses on both sides, so there was no way for the illumination of distant street lights to penetrate this section of the road. When Dougal turned off the ignition at his passenger's command, they were shrouded in almost total darkness. Dougal turned to face the young man, and he realized he was holding his breath. Dougal observed that he could not hear the stranger's breathing either. He strained his eyes trying to make out the youthful face he knew was opposite of him, but he struggled in vain.

"Don't be afraid," the calm and confident tone commanded. "I won't take more from you than you can give, and you're going to like it."

Telling someone not to be afraid often incites the very fear it's intended to assuage, but Dougal felt a tension drain out of him as if the strain was a build-up of water in a pipe and a drain was opened.

"Dougal, my name is Devon and you can call me that."

It occurred to Dougal that he had not told Devon his name, but though the rational response to that would have been fear, Dougal's fear had been excised by Devon's command. It remained only as an observation to incite wonder. Who had he picked up?

"Take off your coat. I don't want it in my way."

Dougal unbuckled his seatbelt and awkwardly removed his coat, rolling it in a ball and tossing it in the hold behind him.

"Good. Pull down your pants and your underwear."

Dougal didn't feel self-conscious in the dark, or maybe that was Devon's doing too. He unbuckled his belt, lifted his ass off his seat and yanked his pants and underwear in a single stroke down almost to his knees. With the truck no longer running and the heat off, it was cooling air that swept his erection and upper thighs.

"Excellent, already erect," Devon said. "I like your cock, Dougal. Neither too big, nor too small."

Dougal was about to ask Devon if he could see his cock in this blackness, but he decided against it. He knew Devon could see it.

"Let's see if you taste as good as you smell."

Oh, yes, Dougal thought. Let's.

A hand closed around his penis. Again, it seemed Devon could see him in the dark as there was no clumsy fumbling to find his cock despite the absence of light. The fingers that pressed against the shaft and its veins were deathly cold, but soft and strong at once. A second hand joined the first, taking gentle hold of Dougal's balls. The chill of Devon's touch made them shrink into their sac, but the feeling was so good to Dougal that he couldn't help emitting a moan, even though he tried to suppress it.

"Be as loud as you want to be, Dougal. This is my street. Nobody comes here unless I let them. Nobody can hear you except me."

Dougal was slight uncomfortable with this. It was reassuring that he could not be heard by any potential voyeur, but was Devon really saying that nobody could hear him scream? Even then, he could not feel fear. Did he really trust himself to this pale stranger or was Devon's order not to be afraid simply biologically impossible to disobey?

"I'm going to take you in my mouth now, Dougal, and it's going to feel very good for you for a long time. In fact, you're not going to believe how good it's going to feel."

Promises, promises, Dougal thought. His wife had said things like that to him when she tried tricks she learned in Cosmopolitan, but, at the end of the day, he was still out cruising for blowjobs.

And then Devon closed his mouth over the head of Dougal's cock and Dougal groaned. The glans might be the most sensitive part of a penis, but how could just a scrape of cold, soft lips induce so much pleasure? But Devon had more than lips to service Dougal with. His tongue, alternately hard and soft, swirled a sinuous pattern around the top of his cock, darting into the tiny slit, already wet with pre-cum, and over the fleshy knob.

"Oh, Christ," Dougal said, his breath heaving already. Devon didn't stop what he was doing but Dougal thought he heard the young man chuckle.

As the tongue danced over Dougal's organ, Devon's hands were still busy, cupping and massaging his balls with one and gently caressing his shaft with the other. Dougal could see nothing, but there was no need to see what was being done to him.

What was happening? Dougal was no virgin on prom night. He'd been around the block, both before his marriage and after. This wasn't his first good blowjob, but it had just started and it was already the best that he had ever had. Already, he felt a pressure building deep inside his loins, a pressure that could only mount for so long before it would require release. And in fact, as he counted his heavy breathing and involuntary moans, the tightness in his belly and groin, he realized how close he was, and this after only about a minute or so.

Lamenting that he had not experienced a premature ejaculation since he was sixteen years old, he leaned back in his seat and shuddered, heaving out groans, and blowing his load in Devon's mouth. The sensation didn't just enflame his cock. It encompassed his entire body and he was racked with convulsions. He was light-headed and a little dizzy.

"Oh, my fucking God," Dougal shouted. "That was the best blowjob I ever had."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Devon said in a level voice. "But we're just getting started."

Dougal started as Devon resumed his ministrations on his cock. More? He couldn't take more.

"Uh, Devon, you really give a good blowjob. I meant it when I said it was the best I ever had. But I don't think I can handle more."

"You will."

"But I won't be able to get it up again. It's always taken me a while to go a second round, and longer since I turned forty."

"You haven't gone soft, Dougal."

For the first time, Dougal realized Devon was right. He was still stiff as a flagpole. But that never happened. He figured he was a good fuck, but he was always a one-and-done, unless he had an hour or two to recover. He also realized that Devon was going back to work on him and, oh, Jesus, it felt good.

This time the mouth closed over the head of his cock only as a preliminary. Devon still had traces of Dougal's wad in his mouth, enough so that when he absorbed more of Dougal's shaft, the cum worked with the young man's saliva to lubricate his dick. The lips glided up and down the penis, while the tongue made unnaturally serpentine motions around both sides of Dougal's rod. The sensations were overwhelming to Dougal, but a part of him realized that such a movement of the human tongue was surely impossible.

But it wasn't until he smelled the tang of iron that he realized there may be a reason why Devon could do things with his mouth that seemed anatomically impossible, why he could make him feel better than seemed naturally possible, why he was strangely cold and preferred the darkness, in which he seemed at home rather than blind as any other human being would be.

Beyond the growing pleasure in his loins and the slow build to another ejaculation, Dougal could feel a sense of flow from himself into Devon. It was no ordinary sensation. He was himself growing colder by the moment.

And yet, Devon had told him not to fear, and so, he could not feel fear. Dougal's brain balked at mind control, but reasonably, he recognized that it was happening. All the facts brought to mind a creature of fantasy.

When he asked Devon the logical question, it was interspersed with gasps of erotic pleasure.

"Are... mmm... you... unh... a... ahh... vampire?"

Devon, perfectly alert beyond the demands of his task, chuckled again. It was a deep sound that rumbled out of his chest and the tones ran through his mouth. The vibrations added to Dougal's enjoyment.

Devon took his head out of Dougal's groin for a moment, but his hands continued to massage him mercilessly.

"Yes, Dougal, I'm a vampire. I'm faster and stronger than you, and your cock is the only wood you're putting inside me. Up until now, you've been following my commands, but sometimes the shock of realization breaks my hold as survival instincts kick in. I sense your fear rising in you. I could taste it in your blood. Again, I say don't be afraid."

Of course, Dougal thought. The sense of him streaming into Devon came from the fact that he was bleeding. Somehow, the vampire had inflicted a painless wound. It didn't even occur to Dougal to disbelieve Devon's admission.

"Let me assure you, I will do nothing more than take enough blood from you to assure my survival. No harm will come to you. Unless you fight me."

"Why... unh... why me?"

"Do you mean why am I drinking from you instead of the poor unfortunates on the street where you picked me up?"

"Yes."

"Many of them are contaminated with drugs, or they are diseased. And their dirt is... unappetizing. You are clean, healthy and robust and, almost as important, you are compromised. You cannot tell your wife you were blown by a vampire. You won't go to the authorities with information about me because it would call your own character, not to mention your sanity, into question."

"Can you read minds?"

"Something like that. To us, reading people is like you reading a label on a can. Most of the time, we get it right."

"And this time?"

"I think I have you pegged. I think you will choose life. Let me tell you something that may influence you. I am not 'pushing' this on you. You are free to evaluate on your own. The traditional view of humans toward vampires is that we are parasites. Technically, that is true, but in the best of circumstances, we are actually able to live with humans in a mutually beneficial, symbiotic way. What I am doing to you now, amplifying your pleasure centres, while taking a small quantity of blood, is only a single example of how we can thrive together."

Dougal hesitated to ask a question. It wasn't that he was scared. It was that he was close to coming again. "I want to live. What do you want from me?"

"Just a moment." Devon's mouth covered Dougal's cock again, resuming the interrupted blowjob. If Dougal thought the handjob was pleasurable, the oral Devon performed on him now was unforgettable. Once again, the metallic scent wafted across the cool air. Even that seemed erotic to Dougal now. He came hard, his body shuddering once more as he heard the vampire swallow hard.

"What do I want from you?" Devon asked when he lifted his head off Dougal's cock. He continued to caress the driver's genitals. "More of this on a regular basis, to start. In addition, I want conversation. A vampire's life is long and it's easy to lose touch with the times. A mortal companion keeps one interested in life."

"And aside from this," Dougal said, and by this, he meant 'the most mind-blowing oral orgasmic experience I've ever had on a continuing basis', "what do I get out of it?"

"Well, first and foremost, I won't kill you and your family." The vampire replied casually as if this was the way in which symbiotic relationships were ordinarily negotiated. "Now that you've guessed my nature, I can't really leave you alone to share what you've learned, even if the odds are negligible that anyone would ever believe you. Killing your family would not really be necessary, but it would muddy the water, confuse the mystery of your death. Genuine vampire hunters are rare in the twenty-first century, but they can be formidable and it does not do to tempt them."

Dougal wasn't sure what frightened him more: the vampire's threat to massacre his family or the fact that he was throbbing hard and erect in the hands of an undead, male lover as the threat was uttered.

"But I can promise more than that. I have outlasted centuries and have acquired considerable wealth. Join me and you will share in a respectable portion of that. Your family will benefit from a sudden windfall, perhaps an inheritance from a long-forgotten relative, or some other scenario that my lawyers can draw up, that will free you and your family from debt and the need to sell your labour."

It was a good sales pitch, but it got better.

"And when the time is right, you can decide if you want to be one like me."

"That's possible? Just biting me as you have won't turn me? It's a choice?"

"No, the process of becoming a vampire is quite deliberate. It won't happen by accident."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes. But you don't have to choose that fate. In time, I will explain everything to you. Your eyes will be open."

Dougal felt the hands still caressing his cock. His hard cock. He couldn't believe he was still hard after coming twice. And he was still aroused.

"How long would this arrangement last?"

"Fair question. You are forty now, yes? Let's say a period of ten years?"

"Ten years of this? My heart will give out."

"No, it won't. Your heart is strong."

"And how often would I be... a donor?"

"I have other 'donors', so I could be content with once a month."

"Do you ever, I don't know, make a mistake and kill one of your donors? Take too much blood? Bite too deep."

"No. I'm not new at this. I don't make that kind of mistake. Besides, my thirst for blood is easily slaked. Our session today is nearly over."

"Nearly?"

"You may have to endure a few more minutes of ecstasy."

"What do I have to give up if I agree to..."

"Serve?"

"Yes."

"Nothing. You keep your family and you get rich if you spend a few hours a month in my bed and maybe go out to a bar now and then for a drink and conversation, or whatever people like you do."

Dougal thought it over as Devon fondled his balls and licked his cock with an impossible tongue-stroke.

In the end, he shrugged. "Fuck it, I'm in." He didn't know if he was doing this for the sex or for the money or for his family. Or for the chance at immortality. Maybe it was for all of them.

"Let's seal the deal," the vampire said and went down on Dougal until his mouth was full of blood and seed.

Dougal groaned and started to drift off to sleep.

"Oh, no," Devon said. "You need to arrive home alive and well for your family. That's my side of the deal."

The vampire gave his new thrall instructions. "You will arrive home and make amends to your wife by acting the good husband, both as a provider and in the bedroom. You will not continue to risk your health with the use of street whores. I'm to be your only vice from now on."

Dougal nodded in the darkness. The vampire could see him, but he demanded a verbal reply.

"You will be my only vice."

Devon did not comment on Dougal's compliance. Dougal had the impression that he didn't need to, and perhaps he didn't. For the first time in years, Dougal had a vision of his wife's naked body after three pregnancies and a bottle of Chardonnay every night for six years, and, bulges, stretch marks and sags notwithstanding, he was aroused. He couldn't understand his sudden need for her except in the power of Devon's suggestion. It was unimaginable that he was getting horny for his wife after three orgasms from the vampire's mouth. The feeling of lust for his wife did not upset him. It was how he wanted to feel. Perhaps the vampire really was going to change his life for the better. But now that he was actually hot for his wife, he had a worry.

"How long will it take for me to heal down there?"

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Then you're healed. My saliva has a healing enzyme in it. Within minutes, there won't be a mark on you."

"You didn't get blood on my shirt, did you?"

"No. Have a little respect. I don't ask if you're a messy eater."

"Sorry."

Dougal reflected to himself that he believed everything he was being told uncritically. It wasn't his normal way, but how else could he explain everything that just happened to him? Devon sat back in his seat.

"Very well," Devon said. "Start the vehicle. I will show you where I live and where you are to make yourself a willing sacrifice to me thirty days from tonight."

"Do I call you 'master' now or something?"

The vampire laughed. "Devon will do. You've seen too many movies."

A thought occurred to Dougal. "Is that even your real name?"

"Legally, yes. It's not the name I was born with."

"What name was that?"

"I'll tell you in ten years."

"Oh, Jesus," Dougal said. "I forgot to... I mean, I still owe you that twenty dollars."

"Buy your wife flowers."

Devon grinned, knowing Dougal would actually have to do what he said.