The Vampire's Bride

The next few months back at the mansion were difficult for Melissa. She couldn't get the picture of Lenore - so incredibly beautiful and perfect - laying dead on that table at the chateau, out of her head. Why had the blonde gone willingly? Even if King had lost interest in her, another vampire surely would have wanted such a gorgeous and willing creature as a companion.

Nearly a year had gone by when Anderson announced they were going on a trip to visit a friend. The drive - at night of course - required daylight stays in two motels.

Finally, late in the evening they reached a place along a large river with many small islands apparently popular with vacationers and those that liked to fish. Anderson parked the car and walked them to a dock, carrying their bags. As they waited they saw a small boat appear. The man on board asked no questions, helped them get seated, then took the boat across the water, moving in between the small islands until a slightly larger one appeared. Taking up much of the ground of the island was what appeared to be a small, gothic style castle. Parking at the dock, the man helped them off the boat, gave them their luggage and left without a word.

Anderson strode up to the main door of the imposing structure and rang the bell. A moment later the door opened.

"Reggie! So, glad to see you! Come on in!" Harris, the older vampire with the British accent they'd met on the Europe trip, shook Anderson's hand, then reached out and hugged Melissa. "I'm so glad you came too, my dear. Nothing like a pretty girl to brighten an old man's day."

They entered the main hall of the structure, which despite its outward appearance, seemed to be modern in all of its amenities. There was a grand staircase leading down on from the second floor and standing on the steps was Katrina, Harris's dark haired, petite, young companion. She was dressed in a black French maid outfit.

"Katrina, why don't you show Melissa to their room. No doubt she will want to change and freshen up after traveling so far.

***

The stay with Harris cheered Melissa up greatly. He was an entertaining host with many amusing stories that seemed be drawn from a history that went back centuries. Katrina was polite, but reserved and didn't talk much, though perhaps that was because English was her second language. Melissa wasn't sure what her first language was, or where she was from and didn't feel comfortable asking.

It was on the second evening they were there that Anderson told her to dress in a her white baby doll nightie and directed her to a room on the third floor of the castle. It was common for Nosferatu to share companions, sexually, and she was intrigued to see what kind of a lover the senior vampire would be. She hoped he wasn't as sadistic as King, but they all seemed to have an interest in BDSM.

As she walked down the hall, she passed Katrina wearing a short pleated skirt, thigh high stockings, heels and a crop top headed towards Anderson's room. The school girl trope was one of his favorites and Katrina with her hair in pigtails, looked every bit the part. Melissa felt a surge of jealousy well up in her. Melissa, now twenty-two, was probably Katrina's senior by four years. Still, Melissa reminded herself that Katrina was not, and would never be a "sweet blood" and Anderson was well addicted to Melissa's intoxicating taste.

How odd, Melissa thought, that she could be proud of her status, a fact, that when she first learned it, with its implied short lifespan, had horrified her. So much had changed in a very few years.

***

Arriving at the door, she met Harris in the hallway. "So prompt you are, my dear! Before we start, can you do me a favor? Take this note to your master," he said, handing her a small envelop. "He will give you a reply, and then meet me here."

Melissa nodded and started back towards Anderson's room.

"No, he won't be there," the older vampire advised. "Go down the hall till you see the spiral staircase and take it to the bottom. Then go to the first door on the right. Don't bother knocking, its sound proof and he won't hear you. Just go ahead in."

She found the room without a problem and pushed the massive, wooden door open. The room was circular and large, perhaps more than twenty feet across and thirty high. Eight large columns ran up the stone walls, then turned and met at the top of a dome. Affixed to the peak of the dome was a pulley with a rope. One end ran down to a hand cranked winch mounted on the wall and the other ran straight down the center of the chamber. Katrina hung upside down from the rope, which was secured around her ankles. She was naked, the school girl costume folded neatly on a chair by the wall. The floor of the room was tiled with a slight tilt towards the very center of the room where there was a metal drain. Katrina's dark hair, still in pigtails, hung with the ends just brushing the floor, her head perhaps a foot above the central drain.

Anderson looked up from a table where he had been selecting items -- whips, floggers, nipple clamps, etc. -- for the evening's session. Taking the note, opened it and read it.

While she awaited Anderson's reply, Melissa edged around a bit to see how Katrina's arms were secured. Her wrists were behind her back and each one tied closely to the area above the elbow on the opposite arm. Where her forearms crossed was also secured together with another rope. Melissa saw the wisdom of this arrangement as it left the girl's lower back, ass, thighs and calves up to the ankles clear of anything that would get in the way of the kiss of a whip.

Melissa had never seen Katrina naked before, and the girl was very beautiful with a nearly perfect body: her tits and ass perfectly matched in size. The only adornment she still wore were two gold slave rings that pierced her pink nipples.

Melissa had to admire the girl's calm, accepting demeanor as Katrina watched Anderson assemble the toys that were to be used on her that evening. She looked very serene, patient and desirable as she hung there swaying gently back and forth like a human pendulum.

Anderson wrote a quick message and handed the envelope back to Melissa. "Make sure you close the door tightly when you leave," he told her. He then picked up a cat-of-nine tails, giving it a quick shake to uncoil it.

Just as Melissa was pulling the heavy door closed, she heard the first snap of the whip and a cry from Katrina, followed by a whimper in a foreign language. The sound was cut off by the thump of the door against its frame. Melissa felt the urge to trade spots with Katrina that evening, as she still felt a pang of jealousy whenever Anderson paid attention to a girl other than herself.

***

Rapping at the designated door she heard Harris sing out, "Come on in, my dear!" Pushing the door open she entered not a dungeon, or a bedroom, but what might be best described as a studio.

Backdrops, cameras, lights, and an artists easel were the first things to catch her eyes. Then she noticed the paintings and photos on the walls. All of them of attractive girls and many in erotic or bondage poses. After handing the note to Harris, she walked over to closely examine a set of black and white photos of women posed on various chaise lounges in a house with garish wallpaper. The women were smiling and either naked or half clad in underwear from some past era.

"Those are from a bordello in New Orleans around 1915, if I remember correctly. Lovely ladies. I'm not sure my photos do them justice. The equipment back then was so primitive!" Harris said, as he came up behind her.

"You took these?" asked Melissa. "They're beautiful!"

"Art, as you perhaps have noticed, is a passion of mine. I love women, especially when they are in erotic poses. And tonight is my opportunity to add you to my collection. Feel free to look around as I get my equipment set up."

Melissa moved around the edge of the studio taking in the images. One section held photos of girls in a style reminiscent of old playboy magazine layouts from the 1960's (Anderson had quite a collection at the mansion), but the women were all in bondage poses with ropes or leather restraints while other girls stood by them and brandished floggers or whips in a menacing manner. Another section seemed to be dedicated to a genres Harris called "Damsels in Distress." Girls nude or near naked posed in supposedly life threatening situations: tied to a railroad track with a locomotive approaching, or strapped to a log with a buzz saw threatening to cut them in half. One red headed girl appeared to be tied to a rotating spit over a fire while a brunette stood beside her helpfully basing her with BBQ sauce.

Then she found a set of photos of girls bound by ropes. Melissa remembered that Anderson had told her this originated in Japan and had a name like "Shibari". All the models were young and pretty and artfully posed laying in a hogtie or trussed up tightly in a sitting or kneeling position. A few were suspended upside down in hanging from the ceiling. And there she was: Lenore. Completely inverted in her photo, her long golden hair just touching the floor and her eyes closed like a sleeping angel. At the sight of her, Melissa felt a pang of sorrow.

Not all the images were photos. The older ones appeared to be paintings, but the bondage theme ran through them too.

"So how shall we pose you?" Harris said. He stood by a rack filled with women's clothes and costumes. He pulled out what appeared to be a white ballerina costume. "Yes," he smiled. "I think this will do nicely!"

***

The ballerina costume Melissa put on was not quite a full outfit. On her legs she wore white thigh-high stockings and ballet slippers. A pancake tutu was at her waist, and her hair tied into a ponytail with a large white bow. She was topless and beneath the tutu, which hid very little, bottomless.

"You look quite lovely, my dear," Harris said, leading her over to small stage area. "Tell me, has Anderson introduced you to breath play?"

Melissa had never heard the term and shook her head.

"Excellent," Harris smiled, "A virgin of sorts! I think we can make quite beautiful and erotic portraits of your first experience!"

Walking her up on the stage he had her stand on a box, perhaps a foot in height, then he tied the brunette's hands behind her back with a strong, white ribbon. Next Harris brought out a wide leather collar and proceeded to slip it around Melissa's delicate neck. The collar was designed to loop through a ring attached to one end then terminated in another ring. The effect was that if the free end was pulled tight, the loop would tighten around the wearer's throat.

Harris attached it to the free end to a rope hanging above the stage that ran though a pulley on a swivel, then back down the stage floor where it ended in another leather loop. Harris took that end and slipped the loop around Melissa left ankle. He then started shortening the rope, pulling the girl's left foot up in the air behind her.

The effect was to force Melissa into "attitude derrière" position, with her hands behind her back, standing on her right foot as her left was held up in the air behind her. As the rope was shortened Melissa felt the collar tighten around her neck, cutting off her air. Finally Harris shortened the rope so much that the only way Melissa could relieve the stress on her neck was to push herself up on her right toes mimicking a dancer's move. The problem was that she could only hold her balance long enough to be able to grab a quick breath. She would immediately lose her balance, the collar would tighten and she would have to push up on her right toes to try again.

This caused her to hop around the stage in a macabre dance in an attempt to keep her airway open: Pushing up on her toes, get a bit of air, fall, the collar tighten and then push up on her right foot again to grab another gulp of air.

"Beautiful, my dear," Harris said as he snapped her picture. "What a pretty little dancer you are!"

It wasn't very long before Melissa's right foot began to tire and she found it harder and harder to push herself up to get that breath of air. In a minute or two Melissa's head began to spin from lack of oxygen.

"Don't worry, my Dear, I'm watching you carefully. I haven't lost a model yet. Well, not at least in the last century!"

After five minutes, suddenly Melissa's ankle failed her completely. She could no longer push herself up. The collar tightened and did not loosen it again, her weight now split between the noose around her left ankle and the noose around her neck.

Apparently Harris had been waiting for this moment and pulled the box out from under Melissa's right foot. This left the exhausted girl hanging above the stage. Her free right leg kicked a bit, trying to find something to touch, but it was useless. Even if she had found some place to put her foot, she would not have the strength to push up and relieve the pressure on her neck. Struggling for any bit of air she could get, she only had a minute or two before she fainted. Then what would happen?

"Excellent, my little Princess," she heard Harris say, as he continued to snap photos.

As she hung there she felt something pushed into her pussy that started vibrating. The effect was immediate. Her body was already excited and squirming because of the lack of air, but the vibrator turned that agitation into sexual arousal. It was more swift and powerful and thrilling than anything she had felt before.

A thought flashed into her mind about a girl she had known in school. She had died under mysterious circumstances. Some kind of accident. But rumors filled the halls that she had been found naked in her bedroom with one of her father's ties around her neck. That she had been tightening it around her throat, and masturbating trying to achieve a powerful orgasm. She apparently succeeded, but the tie got stuck and would not loosen. She fainted and sadly asphyxiation soon followed.

Melissa had wondered one kind of high was worth that risk and now was finding out. It was amazingly intense. Her heart pounding and her body shaking. It seemed the closer to the edge of death she got the more ecstasy she felt. And then it came. An earth-shattering climax followed by darkness all around.

***

When she woke she found herself reclining on a coach with her head resting on Harris's lap.

"Awake, my dear? We made some lovely photographs! Take a look!" he said holding out the camera.

He flipped through the images and Melissa saw herself on the stage like some bondage ballerina. She had to admit that Harris had done an excellent job of capturing her at her most erotic. She could not believe that beautiful creature up there was her.

"Yes, this one is going up on the wall!" exclaimed Harris. He showed her a shot of her hanging from the harness capturing her at the peak of her orgasm, mouth open in an "O" shape and eyes rolled up at the ceiling.

"Still, I think we might do better a second time around," he said, "If you're game to give it another try?"

Melissa was surprised when she heard herself say, "Yes, let's do it again."

***

The last night they were at the castle, Anderson laid an outfit out on the bed, told Melissa to change into it, and join him and Harris in the sitting room. The outfit was a simple pleated white skirt, with black piping, matching bows to put her hair into pigtails, lacy ankle socks and white heels. Her tits and her bottom under the skirt were left bare.

She entered room lit by some candles and a blaze in the fireplace. Harris and Anderson were sitting on a couch smoking cigars and talking. Anderson padded the space between them indicating Melissa should sit there. She did.

"Where's Katrina?" she asked Harris.

"Oh, I'm afraid she is recovering from the other night. Your master gave her quite the workout," he chuckled. "But don't worry about her. She needed the attention. I'm afraid I get so involved in my art that I often neglect giving her the discipline she deserves."

It was clear that Harris and Anderson had been friends along time. She listened as they told stories and joked about events that occurred decades ago. None of these comments were addressed to her and she wondered why they even wanted her in the room.

Suddenly Anderson leaned over and put his mouth on Melissa throat. She felt his fangs enter her skin and he took a long pull of blood from her, then released her. This was odd. Not a regular feeding, but just a quick sip.

Then, Harris did the same thing. This shocked Melissa. Never had Anderson allowed another vampire to taste her blood and know her secret. He must have held Harris in high regard to share her like this.

"Oh, yes, Reggie," Harris remarked, "She is exceptional! Very sweet! What vintage?" He reached out and squeezed her left breast, toying with her nipple, as he spoke.

Anderson replied by giving Melissa's birth date.

The two them then continued their conversation, pausing every few minutes to extract another sip from Melissa and explore her tits or slide a hand under her skirt to play with her pussy. As this went on the men because more and more boisterous and talkative.

After a few minutes it occurred to Melissa what she was seeing: Two friends sharing a bottle of wine as they reminisced and became increasingly drunk. And her role in this was simply to be the bottle of wine. She found she didn't resent that at all. It was her function. It was the way to server her master and his friend.

The night went on for hours, the men becoming increasingly intoxicated and Melissa more and more sleepy and weak. Finally darkness fell over her and their voices faded to nothing.

***

It wasn't till the next evening when Melissa awoke. They were in the car driving home.

"I'm glad you are awake," Anderson said from behind the wheel. "I'm afraid Jason and I were quite bad boys and over indulged on you last night."

"That's alright," she said, still feeling weak with a headache. "It sounded like you two were having quite a good time."

They arrived back at the mansion the next evening and Melissa went straight to bed. She still felt weak. She wondered if she was coming down with something.

The situation didn't improve, but actually seemed to worsen over the course of the next few days. Finally Anderson did a careful examination of her and at the end, let out a sigh.

"Am I ill?" she asked.

"Not in the normal sense," he answered. "What did Lenore tell you about being a 'sweet blood?'"

"Only that we were in great demand and we didn't last-" Suddenly it hit her. "I'm starting to spiral, aren't I?"

Anderson nodded. "I have to admit Harris and I probably brought it on with that session the other night. Once it starts, however, there isn't any stopping it."

"How long do I have?" she asked.

"A week or two," he said.

Melissa was surprised that her first thought was not about herself, but how this would affect Anderson and his need for her.

"You will require another companion," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes," he nodded, reaching out and stoking her hair.

Melissa realized she had an tremendous urge to make sure her master's desires were taken care of if she could no longer do herself. "I want to help find you one. I could go into town and select the best girl for you."

Anderson pondered this. "You would be too recognizable in Hemlock Village, with even with four years gone by, but perhaps another town, like Cook's Junction."

"You could drop me off in the early morning and I could spend the day scouting out the best candidates, then bring her to you at sunset. Only, I don't know if I'm strong enough to spend a full day walking around," she said. "But I want to do this for you."

"Perhaps there is a way to temporarily boost your stamina," observed Anderson.