"A Vampire's History of the World" (closed)

[Knightmare27]

"It sure is", he replied weakly. He was still confused by the whole situation. So she did not rape him, but she did drink his blood. Was that better or worse? Better, he decided. It felt less...intimate. And, somehow, a little exciting. It certainly made more sense than his previous cute-girl-turned-date-rapist explanation. Wait. Had he just seriously thought that anything about this made sense? She was a fucking vampire! Nothing of that made sense.

"Will I always fall asleep when you drink? Or is that something you have to do so it does not hurt so much?"

 

[PennySaver]

"It sure is," Michael said about it being good he hadn't been raped.

Claudia wasn't entirely certain he was being truthful, but she said nothing.

"Will I always fall asleep when you drink?" he asked as it all began to become real to him. "Or is that something you have to do so it does not hurt so much?"

"No, it is ... was something I did so that you wouldn't know what I was doing," Claudia answered. She smiled, shrugged, and said playfully, "Now, though ... I guess the secret is out."

Claudia stood to get them more coffee, and when she returnedshe told him with a comforting tone, "I didn't harm you ... in case you had any concern."

As if teaching a medical seminar, Claudia delved into a detailed, in depth explanation of how her fangs worked physically, dispensing four natural chemicals, including a local anesthetic, a sedative, an anticoagulant, and a hallucinogenic. She explained the purpose of each, the effect of each, and the timing of each's release; if Michael had been strapped down to a gurney in a Federal Prison, you might have though she was describing the three cocktail process of the execution chamber … except, of course, that Michael hadn't died.

"I didn't know all of this when I was first turned, of course," she explained, her tone becoming less medically instructive and more sentimental. "In fact, I knew very little about what I was doing at all. My maker, Bernard André … even he didn't know specifically what he was putting into me all those years that he fed from my body. He only knew that when he'd been turned, it had all come to him naturally.

"It was harder for me, though. Bernard André disappeared before he was able to fully educate me. He simply left the house one night and never returned. I waited patiently for his return, but … one morning … men came to the house and began poking around. I hid, and for the rest of the day they took stock of the structure, the contents … they even went through my room where I had a salle de sécurité … a safe room. They were estimating the value of it all … to sell it … because my master had been killed."

Claudia was looking down into her coffee mug, reminiscing about that horrible day and the days, months, years, and decades to come. After a moment, she looked up to Michael and continued, "I didn't know how to properly feed, but I knew it was something I had to do. I was on the run … living on the streets … begging for money to buy food. I … I turned to prostitution for some time. I was able to fill my belly with bread and milk and cheese, but my hunger … the other hunger … no amount of food would satisfy it.

"One night, months after my Master's disappearance … a man who had paid for my services began beating me. I was afraid … then … I was angry. I … I was on my knees … performing orally upon him … he punched me again because he said I was not satisfying him … and I bit into his thigh … I sunk my fangs--"

Claudia drew a quick, hard gasp at recalling the tragic event. Her eyes welled over, and a tear raced down her cheek. She regained herself, continuing, "So far from his brain, the chemicals entering his bloodstream took too long. He pushed me away … hit me again. But … he began to weaken … and I jumped at him. I bit into his neck … and … and I drained him. I killed him, Michael."

Tears were coming down both of her cheeks now, just enough to reveal her deep regret. I fled Paris that night. I couldn't remain. People knew me … knew I was a whore … knew I worked that alley … they would have found me, jailed me … hung me. I left there … did not feed for some time … and when I did next, I learned."

She finished off her now lukewarm coffee in two big gulps, finishing her conversation, "In the '60s, I went to university, and while I was there I learned about how they extracted venom from snakes to create anti-snake bite serums. I did that with myself, you know, bit into an elastic lid over a glass container to extract my stuff. I gave it to a Chem Major who said he'd process it and tell me what it was if I let him fuck me. I did … he did … and now I know what it is. I mean, it doesn't much matter now … I know all I need to know not to kill anymore. But it was still nice to know."

 

[Knightmare27]

Confusion was now giving way to curiosity - how often do you have the chance to interview an actual vampire, after all?

"I...see. So with these substances you inject, you could bite me completely painlessly, right there? And you could also, say, dose me with the hallucinogenic alone?" - he chuckled - "I knew that you were a drug dealer of some sort."

He was now feeling much better - he finally knew what was up with her - and while the explanation was pretty damn weird, at least it made sense. The anxiety that was dropping off him was making him downright giggly.

"Would you show me your fangs, please? I have never seen them before, obviously. After all, you bit first and answered questions later. At least show me what you punctured me with."

"Yes, your...maker. What does it take to turn someone into a vampire? I don't want to...catch vampirism from you if I let you drink from me all the time. Oh, and while we are at that: How much do you need each day? I really have no idea how much blood I can give you safely?"

He blushed. "Also - does blood from different people taste different? Did you like mine? Sorry that I am asking such stupid questions, but I have never been bitten by a vampire before. I think."

"So your master was killed? What does it take to kill a vampire?" - he realized how that must have come across and hastened to add - "not that I am planning to, of course. I am just curious. Now, obviously, daylight does nothing at all to real vampires. And neither does garlic, given that you used a ton of it yesterday while you were cooking. Interesting. Looks like the stories get a lot of the details wrong."

"I see", he said as he heard the sad story of how she had become a beggar and a prostitute after her maker had been killed. This had been centuries ago. An even worse time for people trying to survive on the street. Thinking about what she must have gone through nearly brought him to tears. "you did not know how to feed? Now, this may be a stupid question, but wouldn't that be the first thing a vampire learns?"

The story of her first feeding. This time it did not take any of Claudia's hypnosis to bring him back to that scene on the street. The desperate girl, learning how to drink blood by accident while trying to escape a beating... almost without thinking, he reached around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. She was reliving something that was still bringing tears to her eyes after centuries. Poor monster girl.

He should have been shocked or afraid when he heard the tale of how she had become a murderer. Later. At the moment, he felt nothing but pity for her. He could feel the desperation she had felt back then, even through the centuries, as it seeped into her voice. He was dimly aware that he was hugging a murderous, centuries old monster who only looked like an innocent young woman, but he did not care at all.

He looked at the tears streaming down her cheeks and nearly began to cry himself. She had seen so much, been through so much. No wonder she sometimes acted like she had never seen a human before - old age and childhood sometimes resembled each other, and there was hardly an age older than a few centuries... all the oddities in her behavior probably had roots buried in these centuries she had lived through.

He smiled through the tears that were starting to appear in his own eyes when she switched to her matter-of-fact story about how she had had her own venom analysed like a good little scientist. A good ancient scientist, he corrected himself.

"Heh. I love how you are so analytical. What other vampire would have milked her own fangs like a snake, just to find out what was in it? I wonder if the student ever got those results published."

 

[PennySaver]

"I knew that you were a drug dealer of some sort."

Claudia smiled at Michael's attempt to lend humor to the situation. When he asked if he would see her fangs, she sat silent and still for a moment, then timidly said, "I'd rather not. It ... well, it hurts ... me probably more than you, as I don't feel the effects of the Local. Sometimes, I let some leak out and swash it around my palate, but by that time, the pain is already excruciating."

Trying to add her own little bit of humor, Claudia asked, "Did you ever wonder why movie vampires always make that hissing sound when they bite...? It's not 'cause they're snakes … it's 'cause it hurts like a mother fucker."

She grimaced at her use of such a profane and inappropriate word. When he asked about Bernard André d'Amboise, her maker, and what it took to be turned into a vampire, Claudia said, "A lot … and, like some of the movies and television shows … permission. No, not permission so much as willingness. The novitiate … that's what Bernard André called me … the novitiate has to want to be a vampire … otherwise … the process kills you."

She explained that there really wasn't a minimum amount of blood she had to have to survive, though -- with the flirty, flamboyant tone of an infomercial model trying to sell age cream -- she said, "If I want to maintain my youthful appearance and girlish figure, I have to feed at least once a month … a pint or so. It doesn't really take much to keep me alive."

Claudia was about to speak on the beyond human abilities she had when she fed more plentifully, but she didn't really think Michael needed to hear all that right now. Plus, most people got envious or even resentful and violent when they found out that -- after feeding off normal human beings -- vampires became pretty much what those human beings thought of when they pictured immortal super hero types -- or in her case maybe super villians.

When it came to the taste of blood and whether it was different from one person to the next, Claudia told him, "Absolutely. I can tell whether someone's been drinking or whether they're a smoker or have been doing weed. I can also tell if they are sick … I mean, medically, not mentally, although... I can sometimes figure that out as well. I saved a girl's life one time. I was squatting and desperate, and I fed off her while she was high. She got really weak, not because of me … but I carried her to the emergency room entrance … sixteen blocks, jogging the whole way. She had diabetes and had gone into a coma, but … they say I saved her life."

Claudia got quiet for a moment, then added with a solemn tone, "Sad, if you think about it. She died three days later. Back on the streets again … no one to care for her … no where to stay. Just died there in our squat while I held her. I wanted to turn her … to save her … but after I told her what I was and how her life would change … she just smiled weakly to me and said Thanks but I'm good.

She told him she never found out how Bernard André died. She didn't tell him what it took to kill a vampire, though; it wasn't a subject on which she wanted to speak.

"Garlic, stakes through the heart, coffins, sleeping during the day and prowling through the night," she laughed. "All Hollywood … and Bram."

When the conversation resulted in Claudia becoming very sad and depressed, she crawled up into Michael's arms and lap like the little girl she had been and sometimes still was and asked in whisper, "Will you hold me while I fall asleep?"

 

[Knightmare27]

"So you have to want to be a vampire in order to become one...good. That is a relief."

"A pint a month? I think I can do that. It would be like donating blood, I guess. It gives me some time to prepare. I wonder what it will be like to just sit there and let you consciously bite me... but I am prepared to do it."

He did wonder that, yes. At least she was cute, and it would be painless. But still... the thought of being bitten on purpose... it was exciting and scary at the same time. Hopefully, it would not weaken him too much. A pint was still quite a lot of blood, after all.

He sighed. "Well, if it is in the service of your youthful appearance and girlish figure, I am prepared to do it. We would not want to lose those, would we?"

He gave her girlish figure a loving squeeze and smiled at her flirtatiously. He could not deny that he was really and truly falling in love with her. She was beautiful, and cursed, and fascinating. She was centuries in history wrapped up in one pretty, socially awkward package. He was so glad about their chance meeting at that cafe what seemed like ages ago.

"Wow, you can actually taste someone's blood sugar by taste? Well, I guess it makes sense... it's like spicy food, I guess, where you have to get used to all that heat to discover the flavors underneath. To me, blood does not taste good at all, you see. It tastes of iron and is actually quite nauseating. I do not think I will ever learn to appreciate the finer aspects of blood. Unless you turn me, of course. Please don't."

"You know what? I can actually understand her. Immortality and magic powers are one thing, but I would not want to be driven by an irresistible thirst for blood, either. You trying to save her was a very noble thing to do, of course. But I understand her."

He held her more tightly again. He was so glad for her that her wandering days were over. For now. She had a good piece of eternity before her, after all. How long would he make it? It was nothing compared to her lifespan. What did it have to be like, knowing that any human, even the one with the strongest feelings for her, would be gone in what was just a moment to her? When he was dead, she would be out there again. Looking for someone else, or maybe being homeless again. He sighed. Oh well, for now at least, she was with him, and that was what counted.

He nodded and closed his arms around her. Her body grew heavier and heavier in his lap as she dropped away into sleep. Even the last remnants of the vampire faded away from her face as she did. Nothing was left but a tired young woman, finally happy to have found a home. He felt her breathing become slower, and watched her chest go up and down.

Slowly, careful not to wake her up, he tried to lift her. As slim as she was, he was not going to carry her upstairs. He valued his back too much for that. Instead, he gently spread her out on the couch and put a blanket over there. After having put a pillow under her head, he kissed her goodnight. Or good day, probably. If day was like night to her, and it probably was, it was quite "late" for her. Time to go to work and maybe stop thinking about the beautiful creature of the night waiting for him back home.

 

[PennySaver]

Claudia was still asleep on the couch when Michael returned. She unconsciously heard his feet outside the door; heard the door unlock, open close, lock again; heard him wander into the living room, then slow and become softer as he realized she was still asleep; and then heard him wander away to his desk.

It was only then that her subconscious woke Claudia. She sat up, met his gaze, and playfully said, "Welcome home, honey. How was your day?"

She laughed, explaining she'd often seen the housewives in the black and white television series of the 50 and 60s say that to their mostly white collar or professional husbands when they returned from a hard day at the office, university, or hospital. "My favorite was Marcus Welby, M.D."

As she got up to put together a simple dinner and start brewing a pot of coffee, Claudia asked Michael about his research this day. He'd worked on his main interest, of course, but he'd also looked into some of what she'd told him about her maker and found that -- while a lot of what she'd said would take more time -- he had indeed found out that some of her details fit with the more obscure knowledge of the day.

"Told ya," Claudia said, sticking her tongue out at Michael, playfully teasing, "So there … nyaaa."

They talked more about his academic work. Claudia kept her own life and knowledge to herself except when Michael asked if what he knew from historical research jived with what she knew from her real life. Most of what he knew was in fact correct in the larger picture, of course; known history wasn't that fucked up. But Claudia was often able to add details and subtleties that wouldn't have been available to Michael otherwise.

"We're a good fit," she said casualty after three hours of talking. "I think we should end it here … and see if that is true in a literal sense, don't you?"

She didn't explain what she meant with more words. Instead, Claudia stood from the couch where she was sitting, reached up under the tee shirt she'd gotten from his closet while dinner cooked, and pulled her panties off her hips and down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and walked over to where her host was sitting in his desk chair and said, "I think it's time we made love … don't you, Michael?"

 

[Knightmare27]

It was funny how quickly Claudia had fallen into the attitude of a fifties housewife. Then again, she had lived through that time. As unlikely as she was to have been a housewife back then. Either way, it was quite fun to watch her cook dinner and brew coffee as if she had been doing nothing else for many years, not just burst into his life a few days ago.

"Well, now that I know why you know so much about history, it's not that surprising anymore. It's incredibly cool, by the way, that you got so close to Napoleon. I am pretty sure if I interviewed you about that time period, I could write a fascinating historical novel. Of course, I could never publish it as actual research. My colleagues would laugh at me, and the French would probably try to assassinate me."

He told her a little about the time period he was doing research on - exactly the time when she was still a young woman, and not a vampire. Knowing what a time it had been made him appreciate so much more how tough she had to have been. Even living through that time took a lot of guts. Staying so cheerful while living through it - and the endless horrors that followed in the centuries after that - was incredible.

He grinned at how forward she was being and led her upstairs. It was time they had sex, yes. And this time, it would be them. Not Napoleon and Marie Louise. Michael and Claudia. He gently sat her down on the bed and quickly took off his clothes. His penis was already standing up in anticipation, but he took his time, put the naked vampire on her back and knelt between her spread-out legs, looking into her eyes.

He placed his hands on her breasts and leaned forward a little bit. His thumbs played with her nipples as he kissed her on the lips. Another kiss, this time on the neck, then he playfully bit it. "How do you like that" came his muffled voice as he nibbled her tender skin a little. Then he let go and put out his tongue, running it over her throat, between her breasts before kissing her on both nipples and taking one in his mouth.

 

[PennySaver]

"I am pretty sure if I interviewed you about that time period, I could write a fascinating historical novel," he told her. "Of course, I could never publish it as actual research. My colleagues would laugh at me, and the French would probably try to assassinate me."

"Fuck the French," she said softly. She looked to him with surprise at her own words, then laughed in embarrassment. "Sorry! Oh God, that was horrible!"

She laughed again and talked about how that period of her life was so confusing and conflicting for her. She had loved her parents, which had made their sale of her to a stranger so tragic; then, she'd hated that stranger until finally she didn't; then, he'd promised her an immortal life with him, only to disappear on her; and finally, French men she didn't know took over her home and ended the life to which she'd spent so many years becoming accustomed.

"I couldn't wait to get out of France after that," she told him. "I moved around, rarely spending more than a year in any one city, though, I would typically spend a decade or more in that country. I was able to learn the local languages and dialects."

She gave an example by quickly saying Yes, I speak your language in nine languages. "I went to Germany again, then Italy, England, France again, England, south to Morocco for a while. I liked Africa, but I didn't fit in well. Italy again, then France once more before Elba.

"After another stay in England, I came here … to America," she said with a smile. "I knew I liked America the moment I got off the boat. Within five minutes, I heard four different languages … by the end of the day, nine … including three indigenous languages spoken by what were still being called Indians at that time. I knew I would never leave here, though, actually, I did go to Canada for a while … Quebec. I guess after all I missed the French."

After she let it be known that they were finally going to become lovers, Michael led her to his bed. He undressed; Claudia had already seen Michael naked, of course, but she watched him now intently, knowing that this was the first time their bodies would be interacting in the way he thought they already had and in the way about which she'd been fantasizing for who knows how long.

Michael took his time and was soon naked. Claudia smiled and ripped the tee shirt up over her head, leaving her naked in a fraction of the time. She giggled as she moved back into the bed.

"How do you like that?" he asked as he playfully nibbled on her neck.

"Be careful," she joked back. "I wouldn't want you to do something horrific … like turn me into a vampire."

She laughed again, but then drew a sudden breath as his lips found her nipple and a shot of pleasure filled her. She pulled his head down into her bosom, directing his mouth from one sensitive nub to the other, telling him, "Feel's good … do that … do that for a while."

She maneuvered Michael in between her parted thighs and wrapped her legs around his back as he continued to pleasure her breasts. Writhing beneath him, she began to rock her hips, rubbing her pussy against his belly. She could feel her juices lathering his firm abs; he was surprisingly fit for a university professor and book worm, not that that was a requirement for being a good lover.

That was what Claudia was hoping Michael would be. How long had it been since a man had driven her to sexual climax? When she'd gotten all the pleasure she could stand from his mouth upon her nipples, Claudia moved her hands to the top of his skull … and urged him to move down her body.

 

[Knightmare27]

He eagerly followed the pressure of her hands, his tongue leaving a track down her entire body, lapping her up eagerly, tasting every inch of her from between her breasts down to her navel. The tip of his tongue felt the smoothness of her skin, the warmth, the pounding of the heart just beneath it. A pounding he could feel almost all the way down.

He arrived where she wanted him, and put his tongue inside. Taking her clitoris gently between his lips, he started with wide circles around her whole labia, catching every drop of her juices on his tongue, eagerly tasting them. The circle became a spiral. Tightening, tightening, until the tip of his tongue reached the clitoris itself. It darted in and out, gently tapping it as his lips tightened a little and began sucking it until it stiffened.

The tip of his tongue danced around, every shiver of lust that came from her vibrating his entire body. His hands, meanwhile, held on to her buttocks and dug deeper and deeper into them as his excitement grew and grew. His right hand moved inward, he extended one finger and inserted it, felt the wetness, felt it tighten. Another finger followed, and they moved back and forth. Gently, carefully, not too quickly.

He settled into a steady rhythm, enjoying every little moan from her mouth, every shaking his playful tongue sent through her body, and the quakes his fingers sent through her. The taste of her flowing juices, the feeling of her tender fingers as they gripped his hair ever more tightly while Claudia slowly lost control of herself. Just a little bit more... slowly now... slowly. Her insides clamped down on his hand as if they wanted to never let go.

The inevitable happened. He could feel it take control of her entire body, shake her around like a lustful ghost had taken possession of her... He grinned as he took his mouth off her pussy. His fingers were still going in and out, but his face was now focused on her eyes, taking in every single detail of her face as the pleasure took over and drove her into contortions. It was almost adorable to see the centuries old vampire make faces like the girl she looked like...

He pulled out and lay down on his side next to her. His fingers, still glistening with her own juices, drew lazy spirals on her breasts, then he took her left nipple in his fingers and idly played with it as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. His tongue, still hungry for her, parted her lips and found hers. Lips locked, his tongue gently massaging hers, he knelt to straddle her naked body. Seconds passed, hours, seemingly, then he finally let go.

His penis was almost painfully stiff now, and watching her in the throes of pleasure had only made it worse. He lowered his body and touched the tip, already dripping a little, against her navel. Lower and lower, it slid until it finally found what it was looking for, and sank into the warm floods he had stirred up inside her. He lowered his chest until their nipples touched, then kissed her on the forehead, then on the lips.

For a long, heavenly moment, he just lay there. His throbbing penis was now deep inside her, his chest was touching hers, heaving up and down in the same excited rhythm hers was. One moment in which they melted into one, one moment he wanted to go on forever. Their eyes locked, and he smiled at her. "I love you, Claudia", he breathed. Too impatient to wait for her answer, he began to read her eyes.

 

[PennySaver]

Her chest was still rising and falling with the deep breaths caused by the euphoria that had so long been missing from her life when Michael whispered, "I love you, Claudia"

Her eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected declaration. She didn't react for a long moment, instead just looking into his eyes while her arms and legs wrapped around him as his stiffened cock rested deep inside her tight pussy. She finally spoke, "I have loved only once, Michael ... long, long ago. It ended tragically. you know this. But..."

She lifted her mouth until their lips met in a long, soft kiss. Then, "...I think I could love again."

She kissed him again, adding, "Je pense que je pourrais t’aimer, mon amour."

Claudia smiled, giggled, then said, "Or if you prefer, Ich denke, ich könnte dich lieben, meine Liebe"

She began rocking her hips, encouraging Michael to begin fucking her as she once again repeated herself, "Crec que podria estimar-te, el meu amor."

After kissing him deeply, she finally spoke the words such that he could understand them, "I think I could love you ... my love."

Claudia would grasp Michael tightly to her and match his movements until he was moaning his satisfaction, after which she would roll him to his back and ride him to yet another wonderful orgasm. She looked into his face intently through it all; the expressions he made as he plunged into her tight canal were of absolute pure joy, and Claudia loved watching Michael make them, during his build up to explosion and in the moments afterward.

Before she laid down upon his fit, quivering body to signal an end to their first love making session, Claudia had driven the twice-her-apparent-age man to three orgasms. She pressed so closely to him that they practically merged into one body. Able to control her own heart beat, once she had come down from her fourth orgasm, Claudia set her pounding to strike between Michael's own; the result sounded almost like an echo of his own ... thump thump, thump thump, thump thump their hearts beat together as if setting the beat for a song that was coming yet never began.

 

[Knightmare27]

His declaration of love had been all heart. No brain. Not a moment to consider that she was hundreds of years old. That, even if she loved him now, she knew that it would be over in what would be a moment for her. He did not care, though. It was true, so he had said it.

A warm smile spread across his face as she considered what he had said. Had she really forsaken love after what had happened? Hundreds of years on the run, not loving anyone? He found himself pitying the immortal creature of the night again. In so many ways, she was just what she seemed to be: A young woman, longing for a home. It would only be a few short years in her eternity, but he wanted to be that for her.

She kissed him and returned his love. For a moment, everything around him dissolved in liquid gold. His smile turned into a grin, then he kissed her back, more deeply and passionately even that he had done before. "I am so happy...", he sighed and hugged her. Pressed her chest against his as if he wanted their two hearts to melt together. Felt her warmth against him, held her in his embrace, cradled her young, centuries-old body.

She turned him around and he just lay there as she expertly rode him. It did not take long for him to reach a series of moaning, screaming orgasms, followed by him sinking back into the pillow, thoroughly satisfied. She was now lying down on top of him, and he could feel her heart beat. Not quite in rhythm with his. It was as if they were having some kind of jam session. Ah, the children of the night. What music they made.

He wanted to just have her on top of him forever. A warm, beautiful, loving blanket to sleep under, to learn true love again, to hold tight. Eventually, though, he did decide to crawl out from under her and give her a hug.

"Thank you, Claudia, my...love. It feels so strange to say that... but so good... I did not expect to fall in love again, but here I am, stupidly in love like some student. I am so sure I love you. The way you are... the way you look... the way you...fuck..:" he blushed.

 

[PennySaver]

An irony for Claudia was that while she never tired from exertion so long as she'd recently fed -- she could stay awake and active for ten days after a pint -- sexual satisfaction had always tuckered her out. Tonight was no different; after she acknowledged Michael's delight in how she fucked, she kissed him softly on the lips, slid off him to lay at his side, and drifted off into a deep slumber for nearly six hours.

Waking in the middle of the night and finding him still unconscious beside her, Claudia slipped out of his bed to pee and tiptoe downstairs for a snack. She ended up sitting in his deck chair, knees pulled up to her chest, reading his most recent notes on his research paper. Remembering her promise about marking up his books and papers, Claudia began writing on Post-Its and other slips of paper, indicating things he should investigate and places in which he might find proof of some of the things she'd told him or would tell him during their next salon, if you could call a two person thought provoking conversation as such.

Michael would find her still in his desk chair when he came down in the morning. She led him to the seat, opened his robe, and -- still naked -- sat in his lap to ever so slowly and ever so lovingly drive them both to orgasms that, by her design, arrived within just seconds of one another.

They showered, ate, drank coffee, talked, researched, fucked, and repeated yet again, filling the day without him ever leaving or either of them donning anything more than underwear and robes. It was a wonderfully relaxing and sometimes stimulating day.

##################​

"Do you have a passport?" she asked out of the blue while they were sitting down to breakfast the next day. "I want to take you someplace … a little town in the south of England that is applicable to your research."

She could see the surprise in Michael's face and explained that she'd been reading his notes and knew of an old estate with a library that reached back almost a thousand years. "It's in private hands, and many of the books have never been made available to the public or even to researchers. I know the owner."

She didn't explain more about who that owner might be, but thinking about her made Claudia think about other things. She told him in a rather matter of fact tone, "I'm hungry … if … if you know what I mean. Do you think after you get back from the office, we could … you know."

 

[Knightmare27]

The next morning, the vampire girl woke him with another one of the orgasms she was so great at causing. It was a welcome surprise... almost as refreshing as a cold shower, and at least a hundred times as fun.

They spent the entire next day together. He was getting used to having her around very quickly. Everything about her was stimulating - body and mind. And she was a great cook, too! He wondered if anyone else in history had ever been so happy to have invited a vampire inside. Normally, these kinds of things ended up much more tragically. She did drain him, yes, both physically and mentally - but in ways that always left him wanting more.

Her question hit him completely by surprise. Then he remembered how used she had to be to traveling all the time. After a long pause, he answered: "Y...yes. I do have a passport. Er...just give me a day or two to arrange things. You know, I can't just disappear. But after that, why not?"

It was almost as if Claudia had invited him to their honeymoon - sort of. That was what living with her felt like now. Only this time death would really do part them. And he was quite sure whose.

He smiled as she revealed the extremely nerdy reason she wanted to take him there. That was one of the many things he loved about her... such an interest in history, despite having lived through the worst bits of it. And some of the fun bits, given her...interesting experiences as Napoleon's servant.

"Oh, I...see. Well, that is the best invitation to do a few weeks of archive research I ever got. Let's go there and do some scholarship. That will make it easier to justify to the university, of course."

He knew exactly what she meant, of course. His heart jumped with a strange sort of excitement at the thought of being fully conscious while a vampire bit him. Yes, excitement. He had expected pure fear, but part of him was insatiably curious and almost eager to try.

"Of course. Let's make something special out of it. I want the first time you drink from me - with my knowledge, that is - ", he added with playful anger, "to be something special."

He gave her a long, passionate kiss goodbye and left for work. Mainly, he worked on getting his research trip approved. It was not easy with the vague information she had given, and he had to get a little creative with it, but eventually, he had everything squared away. He returned home in the evening, bursting with that same excitement he had felt that morning as he remembered he would be vampirised soon.

 

[PennySaver]

Saturday Night:

Today was the day.

Today, Claudia was going to feed from Michael's neck. It wasn't for the first time, of course; she'd already draw life from him twice before, but he hadn't remembered it either time. Today was going to be different.

She knew he would be more than ready for this for two reasons: one, they'd been talking about it for three days; two, she hadn't let him touch her for the past two of those three.

The day began with a spectacular breakfast based around the cuisine of North Africa; there were over a dozen separate dishes but each offered only two or three bites worth to ensure that Michael's belly could partake of each and every one.

They rented a horse drawn open carriage that took them across town, over the Charles River, to North Point Park Island. Claudia had never been there, despite having lived in the Boston Area for most of the past 40 years. They held each other close, and walked the circular path along the water, past the trees, along the water, past the trees … six times; Claudia thrilled at the ducks playing in the river on the south side of the manmade island, as well as the squirrels playing in the trees on the north side.

Before they left, Claudia grasped Michael's hand and led him to the playground where she made him push her in the swing set and even share the teeter totter with her. She reminded him that she'd never had a real childhood without talking about the specific again, not wanting to ruin their wondrous day. They found a man with a 19 foot sailboat who took them out onto the river for two hours before delivering them back to their side of the river for a mile long walk toward home, during which they stopped for a light lunch.

And then they were back, arriving just before a delivery of three boxes of dinner ingredients arrived. Claudia demanded that Michael sit in his big, comfy arm chair and read from one of his favorite biographies about an English Earl while she prepared dinner, began cooking, and laughed at the historical inaccuracies, which he took notes about until the day's activities suddenly had him head back in his chair, snoring.

Claudia let him nap as she finished the dinner; he was going to need to be rested for what she had planned later. When the meal was ready, she crawled up into his lap, waking him for a deep, passionate kiss and two simple words, "Dinner's ready."

It was another extravagant dinner, this one centered around the Native American dishes and desserts; Claudia had spent over three hours Friday afternoon at the Farmers' Market making the selections, some of which she'd brought home yesterday while the rest had only come today.

Like breakfast, each entrée was small in offering but wondrous in flavor. Claudia had used many lifetimes of experience to prepare the perfect amount of each, and when they were done there were just enough leftovers to fill two small containers for a shared cold lunch tomorrow.

"Let's take a bath," she said, waggling her hand at Michael after they'd finished off a bottle of wine while talking about his life in Boston. Upstairs, they stripped their own bodies; Claudia insisted that Michael not touch her, though, as they were climbing in she did reach out and ever so gently caress the so-sensitive underside of his raging erection, whispering, "His time is coming."

They sat facing one another in a bath thick with bubbles -- another childhood love that Claudia had only recently come to enjoy -- and massaged each others' feet, and talked more about their lives. When they simply couldn't stand the building intimacy any more, Claudia said softly, "I think it's time."

They dried each other off and moved to Michael's bed. She arranged just about every pillow in the house against the headboard to allow her lover to be comfortable laying back into them at an angle, then crawled up into his lap and working him deep inside of her. They didn't fuck, really; they just sat there, Michael back in the pillows, Claudia in his lap, hands idle on the other's body as Michael waited for what Claudia had promised him would be an experience like none other.

"If you want, Michael," she told him softly as they were gently kissing each other's mouths, faces, and chests, "I can let you see back into your past … an event … something you vaguely remember … or possibly do not remember at all but know occurred because others have told you it did. Remember the dinner in Elba...? Or that first night of love making in Paris? You can remember this event of your own life again … as if you are partaking of it for the very first time."

She leaned in and -- for the first time today -- began kissing and licking at his neck, trying to relax him for what -- even if he didn't realized it -- he was becoming a bit anxious about. Claudia continued, "I will not know what this event is … I will not see it with you … unlike Elba or Paris … unless you want me to see it, experience it, with you. And it will not prevent you from experiencing this..."

Without anymore warning than that, Claudia bit deeply into Michael's neck. Unlike the first two times in which she'd fed upon him, he would feel the intense pain of the fangs entering his flesh; she wanted him to experience it all, so she didn't immediately dispense the local anesthetic. Michael'ss body tense beneath her, and Claudia felt him grasp instinctively at her own body with the intention of pushing her away. But unlike the local, she had pumped him full of muscle relaxer and while his arms grabbed at her and his legs tried to buck her off, they failed … and then slumped to the bed beside him.

But Claudia didn't leave Michael limp like a rag doll for long. As soon as she knew that he knew the pain of having four sharp sticks rammed into your neck, like she had so many times when her own maker had been angry and had fed without the local as Claudia just had, she injected the pain killer that took away the pain … then ceased pumping in the muscle relaxers so that, after about ten minutes, Michael was able to put his hands upon her as he wished.

I haven't begun feeding on you yet, Michael, Claudia's words filled his brain without her having to speak them. She asked silently, Are you ready?

Keeping her lips tightly around his neck, maintaining a suction that would not allow even a drop to escape her hunger, Claudia withdrew each of her four fangs just enough to allow Michael's carotid arteries and veins both to begin spilling their valuable fluid into her mouth. She knew he could feel the warm, thick, rich blood washing over his skin as it filled her mouth; she knew he could feel the effect of her swallowing one gulp, then another, then another.

And as this was happening at his neck, down below Claudia had begun ever so slowly and deeply taking his cock in and out of her tightness and warmth.

 

[Knightmare27]

Pushing a centuries-old bloodsucking fiend on a swing felt very, very weird, despite her girlish giggles as he did so. No childhood... and then turned into a vampire when she had just become a woman...

As they returned, Claudia took over the cooking again, something she was very, very good at. Meanwhile, he was satisfied being her reader - and her constant laughter showed she appreciated it, even if it was mostly at the inaccuracies. He loved keeping her entertained as she turned three boxes (!) of ingredients into what was sure to be a delicious dinner. Eventually, he dozed off a little and let the book slide out of his hand.

He was woken up by her kneeling in his lap and kissing him - the best thing to wake up to, surely. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight for a moment. "I am so happy we found each other", he sighed as he felt her heart beat against his chest and buried his face in her hair. Then he got up and followed her to the table which she had set. She was being so...wifely...then again, she was very, very experienced at that. She was very, very experienced at everything.

The dinner was wonderful (of course), and so was the conversation. He was happier than he had ever been in his life. Claudia was wonderful, smart, beautiful, and had settled into being his lovely (sort of) wife so quickly that that fateful meeting in the café felt like it had been years ago. Like he had always had a hot, smart vampire girlfriend. Who was also a masterful cook. And as much in love with him as he was with her.

They made conversation (with many references to history) over the dinner, and what had once felt crazy was starting to feel so normal. Of course he had stumbled upon a vampire. Of course they had fallen in love with each other. And of course now he was sitting here, the happiest man in the world, cheerfully making conversation with her as she effortlessly switched from the wisdom of centuries to the bubbly cheer of a young woman who had never really been a child.

He was still a little embarrassed when their clothes fell and his penis showed much more openly than his face did just how much he was into her... that she rejected his touch and then teased his erection was cruel... the first reminder that this girl was a monster girl. But he would be patient. He entered the bathtub with her and tried to keep to himself as much as possible, but she had said nothing about looking...

She allowed him to take her feet for a massage, and did so with his own. Her slim fingers sometimes brushed over the soles of his feet, sometimes dug in harder. It felt like walking on a bed of rounded pebbles. He was a little bit clumsier, but tried to replicate what she did on her own feet. Being allowed to touch her in any place was almost unbearably pleasurable... he began to moan softly as he felt her smooth, wet skin.

They were back on the bed, Claudia kneeling over him, her perfect round breasts a feast for his eyes as she took him in, but did not move. He shivered and let out a squeal of lust as she tightened around him, then just sat there. His hands, meanwhile, took her buttocks from the sides and cupped them. The throbbing was so bad he wanted nothing more than for her to start moving... to finally release him.

He smiled at her. "There is really nowhere I want to be except here with you, Claudia... but alright. I will choose something I want to experience again." It was difficult to think back to a moment more perfect than this... except, of course, what they had done the night before. A very boring choice, and she would be sure to complain if she heard just what he had chosen - but she had said she would not know, right?

Her lips touched his neck. Oh, right...vampire, he thought. Thirsty vampire, he remembered. Now that she was about to drink from him, his courage nearly left him. It was like getting ready for a shot from a doctor - the building panic as he realized what was about to begin, the racing pulse, the blood rushing from his head. Almost as if my blood is trying to run away, he thought grimly as he felt his forehead become clammy.

The pain! The pain! He wanted to scream, but could not. He could not do anything. Not move, not blink, not make the slightest sign of what he was feeling as burning needles were pressed into his neck. What had been anxiety before became blind panic. His heart pounded, pumping ever more and more blood towards the girl's greedy mouth. A monster was latched on to him and he had invited her in! When would it stop?

The pain slowly faded away, and he could move his muscles again. His first instinct was to push her off, but he was too exhausted and afraid. And besides, she had fed, right? It had been an awful experience, but now she was satisfied - a long, long time without having to go through this living nightmare again. Was the girl worth the monster, even if it only appeared once a month? He was starting to have doubts...

What? Her words hit him like a blow to the stomach. She was not done yet? He was not ready! What an idiot he had been to allow a vampire to feed on him! Then he realized the pain was completely gone now. Just an oddly numbed feeling of something sucking on his veins; it felt more unpleasant than painful. Maybe it was the blood loss, but he was feeling oddly relaxed.

Freed from his pain, he could see again and watched the naked vampire girl bent over him as she drank, and drank, and drank. A pint a month, she had said. How much was that? Had she lied? Was she about to kill him, another victim of her seduction? Why had he trusted her in the first place? Here he was, about to die because he had let his dick do his thinking for him. Drained of blood, helpless to fight back.

He fell...and landed softly. He was back in the previous night again. Ironically, right at the point where he had playfully nibbled her neck, asking how she had liked it. Noticing this irony was the last thing he did before he fully sunk into the events of that night, reliving every moan, every shudder and every feeling. Soon, he had completely forgotten that she was feeding on him and was back one night before.

 

[PennySaver]

"Don't tell me," Claudia whispered to Michael when his eyes opened for the first time in ten hours. When he blinked the clear and his expression told her he realized when and where he was, she said with a smile, "Don't tell me what experience … what part of your life you recalled last night. I don't want to know. It's like … making a wish over your birthday cake. It's supposed to be a secret."

She was sitting on her side of his bed, her haunches on her calves, her hands with locked elbows pressing into the mattress near Michael's rib cage. She was dressed in one of his tee shirts again, as well as a pair of his boxers which -- because of her narrower body -- were pinned at one hip to lessen the waistline.

"C'm'on … I already made breakfast," she said, leaning down to kiss her lover before leaping energetically from the bed. "Get a shower in before you come down … and don't come down unless you do shower. You need it. We had a bit of a workout last night."

She laughed as she disappeared down the stairs. Claudia knew that Michael would by now be recalling everything from the night before: her feeding from him; him reminiscing about whatever it was that he'd chosen to remember; them fucking for nearly four hours, with her driving him to three orgasms and him driving her to even more than that. They'd finally passed out with one of the bed's blankets beneath them to separate them from sheets soaked in their sweat and other fluids.

When he arrived, he looked a bit weak and disoriented. Claudia wrapped her arms around Michael's torso, holding him as they kissed, and -- as she helped him to his dining room table chair -- apologized for having taken a bit more than a pint. "You'll be fine, sweetie, but … you should stay home today and not go into the office. Besides, it's Sunday."

Claudia was very much beginning to sound like a dutiful, dedicated, concerned wife of a yesteryear period, even though it wasn't intentional. She sat with him after delivering another spectacular breakfast and coffee and she brought up the trip to England that she had suggested for them both. Then, Claudia said something about how they would travel that got his attention and she realized the mistake she had made.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I … I guess I didn't tell you that I can't fly," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah … no aero-planes for me, sorry. Boats. Boats and trains. You know I once took The Canadian across most of Canada … from Toronto to Vancouver. It was a great train ride. And boats … I love boats. You know, I came to America on the Titanic … did I tell you that...?"

She gave Michael a moment to digest that incredible bit of history … then laughed loudly, telling him, "Kidding … kidding! I actually came across as a stowaway on a freighter … Liverpool to Boston … 47 days because we got caught up in a storm. That was, what … 1918 … near the end of the Great War."

They delved into a conversation about her memories from the First World War, finished breakfast, and rolled up in each other's arms on the couch. Claudia talked softly about some of the less historical things she remembered from her past decades and centuries, and -- after realizing that Michael had drifted off to sleep again -- she, too, closed her eyes and fell into a needed slumber; she'd been awake since before he'd put his cock in her last night.

 

[Knightmare27]

She was so cheerful... Michael felt far less so, and not just because he was exhausted. Did she have any idea how much her bites hurt? She could have warned him about that. Of course, then he would have had second thoughts about letting her drink, no matter how much he loved her. He did still love her, but he was quite angry at her for holding back that little fact. No wonder people normally hated vampires.

He did shower and come downstairs, moving very slowly. His neck was still a little bit stiff, and the blood loss really made itself felt as he got back on his legs. The wild night of lovemaking might have had something to do with it, too. He was determined to give her a little bit of an earful. Most of last night had been a dream, but his thoughts always drifted back to those nightmarish minutes where there had been a bloodthirsty monster perched on his chest.

He sat down and, at her reassurance, responded tiredly: "I guess I will be fine... but you could have really warned me about that. You know, 'I am going to feed on you' sounds so harmless. Why didn't you say 'I am going to ram hot needles into your neck while you are terrified and unable to move'? Were you afraid I would chicken out? I love you, dummy! But I do not want you to lie to me like that. I could have taken it - if you had told me."

"I was really afraid I would die. You just did not stop. But you could have just told me! I am not upset it hurt - I am upset you said nothing about it. That it would take so long for your stupid analgesics to kick in. It felt like an eternity." He was genuinely angry about this, even though he realized he was being a little bit unfair. What had he expected being bitten in the neck to feel like? People always forgot that was what vampires did...

He calmed down a little and they began talking about their planned journey. "You arrived on the Titanic? Well, that would make you the only one out of those thousands of passengers... did you swim there, or was the accident not quite as bad as the, you know, hundreds of eyewitnesses claim?"

To his great relief, this turned out to be another one of her silly history jokes. "How did you manage to remain undetected for all that time on the freighter? I mean, it was 47 days. Did you just stay thirsty the whole time, or did you...you know, feed...during that journey?" The mere mention of the feeding made his neck hurt a little. He really was very interested in it, even though, to her, it was probably just one of many calamities.

She curled up in his arms and eventually fell asleep. The girl vampire, now all tiny and vulnerable and cute. He really did need some rest from what had happened last night... he kissed the mouth that had so greedily drunk his blood just hours before, stroked her hair and got up to do some reading. Not Dracula this time. He would be very happy if he could forget what she was for some time now...

 

[PennySaver]

When she returned to consciousness late in the afternoon, Claudia found Michael at his desk working. She turned him in his rotation chair and crawled up into his lap, kissing him passionately just once before wrapping her arms around his neck and just sitting there for several minutes enjoying the feel of him against her. He hardened noticeably, and moving up his thighs further, she pressed her panties against his slacks, almost imperceptibly grinding herself against him. She asked him to play with her breasts … her nipples … then moaned softly at the feel of his fingers and strong hands upon her.

"Sorry," she whispered to him after she eventually sat back on Michael's thighs to look into his eyes. "I hurt you on purpose … biting you, I mean. I should have warned you, you're right. I … I wanted you to know what it felt like. I'm … I'm not sure why. When I was little and I didn't obey Bernard André, he would punish me by feeding from me without deadening the bite area. I … I guess I wanted you to know what I'd been through."

Claudia kissed him once again, told him she was getting coffee and asked him if he wanted some, and slipped out of his lap to head for the kitchen. "In over 400 years, I've only ever told a dozen or so people what I am, and most of those had already figured out that I was something different … otherwise I might never have told them. And out of all those people, Michael..."

She turned to look at him. "...you are the only one who's been … kind about it. I have been accused of cheating life, Michael … of getting far more from life than God had intended any human being to … enjoy."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Enjoy … as if any of them knew the life I have lived. Enjoy is not a word I would use."

Claudia crossed back to Michael, handed him his mug, and told him, "The pain you felt when my fangs penetrated your neck...? I feel twice that simply deploying them. This is why when you asked to see me extend them I told you no. It's almost as painful as having a tooth pulled without drugs."

That chatted about that some more, then she spoke about the voyage to America. "The ship got caught in a storm … a bad one, bad enough for the captain to alter course southeast to get away from it. That was why the voyage was so much longer than normal. In my hiding place … a crate fell atop me, breaking my leg … compound fracture. I was able to heal it over the next four or five days..."

She lifted her leg to show a perfect, athletic limb with no signs of scarring. "...but it left me weak … and I knew I had to feed if I wanted to survive. Even though the ship was a cargo vessel, it was carrying a couple of dozen seriously injured American GI's back from England in a hold two decks above me. When I first came aboard, fully fed and feeling great, I could sense them up there … could smell and hear them.

"In the late hours, I slipped up to the infirmary," she continued, her tone becoming solemn, "Most of the men had suffered terribly. They were missing limbs … eyes … even their faces. I found a compartment with no nurse or doctor and searched the men. I found one who'd been seriously harmed by both flames and mustard gas. He likely wouldn't have survived the year … his lungs … oh, Michael. I … I calmed him as you know I can … I whispered sweet words to him and asked him about his life. He told me of his girl back home … of how they were going to get married but, after he'd been hurt and after she'd learned how badly he'd been hurt … well … she wrote him a Dear John letter.

"He told me all he wanted to do was die, but that the Doctor wouldn't let him. I told him I could help him remember better times … remember any event what had made him happy. I did with him as I did with you last night. And then I bled him for three pints or more. He died in peace..."

 

[Knightmare27]

"I know what you have been through now, alright...", he said, but he was already mostly pacified. Yes, it had hurt like hell. But she had admitted it had been a very bad idea... as long as she did not do it again, he was willing to let that mistake of hers slide.

He could not believe he had been the only one in four hundred years who had been kind to her, knowing she was a vampire. How could you not feel at least a little sympathy? Granted, she was technically an immortal abomination who fed on the blood of the living. But had they all thought she had no feelings just because of that?Maybe she was not being entirely truthful there... but she certainly did sound like she was starved for love.

"No, not enjoy, certainly not. I mean, I see why people would want to be immortal, yes. But then you realize what that means. That you have all eternity before you, and that you must spend it running from place to place, drinking blood. That everything you grow attached to will eventually die. Except other vampires, I guess..."

As she returned with his mug, he stood up to give her a hug. One of those it-will-be-alright-hugs she had probably not gotten in a long time.

He winced when she told him how painful it had been to deploy her fangs. He had nearly passed out from the pain, but at least he now knew that it could be painless. And she had to subject herself to twice that, every month, with no chance at relieving it, ever. Four hundred years of this. Over five thousand times this. He hugged her even harder, the pain she had caused him nearly forgotten now.

He touched her limb, as if looking for any scars left by that fracture. None left, of course. And all within four or five days. That meant vampire healing had to be...at least five times faster than human healing. And then the story of how she had drained the wounded soldier of blood. Assisted suicide by vampire... certainly not the worst way to go for someone wounded by mustard gas. Not all her feedings could have been self-defense or acts of kindness, though... that was a question for another time.

"Well, we will have to go by ship, then", he said in order to change the topic. "I have never booked a passage on a ship before. I heard it is still possible, mostly on freighters. Which is a good thing anyway since we have to bring several coffins full of soil for you, right?"

He walked around her and hugged her from behind, his arms slung around her waist.

"A few days at sea with you...", he whispered into her ear, "I hope they give us a lot of privacy on that ship. After all, it will be like our honeymoon voyage...kind of."

He continued to hug her, one hand slipped under her clothes to touch the bare skin of her stomach, to take in her warmth, to stroke the fine hairs there, to feel her heartbeat. Vampires were warmer after feeding, allegedly... but that could just be another misinformation, of course.

 

[PennySaver]

"Well, we will have to go by ship, then," Michael agreed, leading Claudia to smile and pull him tighter to her. "I have never booked a passage on a ship before. I heard it is still possible, mostly on freighters. Which is a good thing anyway since we have to bring several coffins full of soil for you, right?"

"Ha, ha," she said with a playfully sarcastic tone. She turned and bit him in the chest -- no fangs this time -- just hard enough to cause him to flinch and voice his discomfort before warning with a giggle, "Maybe next time I won't use anything to deaden the pain at all!"

She laughed, bit him again, then hurriedly leaped from the couch and run away, hollering over her shoulder, "I'm taking a shower and you are not invited!"

Claudia stopped at her bedroom door, looked to Michael lovingly, and said, "We are going to have the greatest time. I promise you."

#################​

It was another ten days before they had their passports and tickets. Claudia's passport had been the most difficult to acquire as the last piece of legal ID she had was a driver's license from Georgia that placed her birthdate as May 1, 1963. She told Michael without explanation that for as long as they were overseas, he would have to refer to her as Jessica Robb -- Jessie -- when in public.

They boarded the cruise ship Friday night at 5pm, spent two nights fucking and the day in between enjoying the ship's frills, and landed in Bermuda Sunday morning. Once upon shore, they rented two scooters and explored the island. Occasionally, Claudia would point off to some ancient building or spectacular vista and begin The last time I was here, in... followed by a date centuries earlier … only to then laugh because she hadn't yet told Michael one way or the other whether or not she'd ever been in Bermuda during her four centuries of world travel.

Later than night, they were once again at sea and would be until the landed in the Azores a week after having left New York. The fucked almost every night and every morning during the four days at sea. Claudia simply never tired of the euphoria her history professor caused her; in between love-fests, they ate, played, stared at the sea, and read from -- and corrected! -- the half dozen history research books and papers Michael had brought with him to prepare for their final destination in the south of England.

Their next port of call was Lisbon, and after spending the daylight hours there, the ship was again at sea heading for a day stop at Vigo, Spain. The stop after that would be the Island of Portland, off the South Coast of England, and even though their ultimate destination was, in fact, the south of England, Claudia and Michael had decided to remain onboard to see Brussels and Paris before ending their voyage in London.

At least … that was what was supposed to have happened...

While ashore in Vigo, Claudia went off on her own for a few hours. She didn't explain to Michael at the time why she needed some alone time; she simply told him he needed to trust her and go enjoy the port city, perhaps with some of the people they'd met on the voyage.

But then, when 5pm came around and she was supposed to be queuing for their 6pm departure, Claudia was no where to be found. At 6:06pm, with three guests not yet back to the ship, the crew members at the brow were telling Michael that he had to make a choice: get aboard and leave without her, or stay ashore, find her, and join the ship again at a future port call.

 

[Knightmare27]

And just like that, Claudia had become Jessie, by some trick of vampire magic - or more likely just centuries of experience on the run.

The first few days were wonderful, mainly spent enjoying the fun trip and having hot sex at night. Even listening to her explain all kinds of sites she had of course been to before in Bermuda was kind of interesting...though her laugh suggested she was just fucking to him in her usual girlish way. She was always so adorable when she acted her apparent age, or even younger. He could feel that she really had missed out on a childhood...

A few days at sea, mostly spent doing historical research during the day, and reproductive health research at night. Not reproductive, of course. He had never heard of a vampire getting pregnant. Then again, who knew? He had been wrong about so many essential facts of the physiology of blood-sucking fiends before. Maybe they would end up having a half-vampire baby together. Nothing seemed impossible at this point.

But then, Vigo. She was not there at embarkation time. No one had heard of her. No personnel had seen her checked in. The friendly receptionist checked for him if she had signed in yet - nothing. She was still out. And the boat was leaving in an hour. He remembered he had never seen her use a cell phone... she seemed not to have one. Probably there had been no one worth calling before she had met him. Well, fuck.

6 pm. He had to make his choice now. Leave the search to the local authorities, or disembark and wait for her, maybe join in the effort. After taking exactly seven seconds to decide, he ran back to his stateroom, grabbed his suitcase and hurried down the gangway seconds before it was pulled up. He was now alone, with no idea what to do, in a country where he only theoretically spoke the local language. And she was still missing.

He had been an idiot. Giving her an emergency phone would have been such a simple thing to do - yet he had forgotten this simple precaution in his love-crazed haze. Now his love was gone, and it was partially his fault. He swore under his breath and trudged out of the port to find somewhere cheap to stay while he thought about what to do next. Not an easy thing to do during tourist season, but he would try.

Eventually, he secured a room above a bar in a not-so-nice part of town. It did not matter. He was not here on holiday, he was looking for Claudia...Jessie, rather. He just needed a place to put his suitcase and sleep. Though it did not look like he would get a lot of sleep that night. Where to first? Well, the police, of course. At least he had a pretty good chance of getting by with English in this important tourist port.

 

[PennySaver]

The police sat Michael down, gave him papers to fill out, asked him basic questions, gave him scrutinizing glances -- as if perhaps he wasn't telling them the truth -- and told him to return to his hotel room and wait for them to contact him. It was what the police typically did in a situation like this, not there was anything wrong with their method or that there was any other way to respond.

They invited him down to the station less than two hours later, showing him a composite image of a young woman that had been drawn from witness statements to an attack earlier that afternoon. The hand drawn image was almost a mirror image to the photo of Claudia -- Jessica Robb -- that Michael had provided from his cell phone.

"We have differing accounts of the incident," the Captain told Michael in English with the heavy Portuguese dialect of the Azores. "The first comes from friends of the victim, a local thug who we have been trying to catch in the act of committing his criminal activity for quite some time and then arrest. His friends say … and, please, Senhor Hanes … do not be offended, for I am only repeating what these disreputable men have reported … that your lady friend came to them for drugs … that she offered them sex in exchange for drugs, and that when they told her they weren't that type of people … that--"

He lifted a report and read from it, "And I quote, 'That you dirty Americans assume the rest of the world is made up of drug dealers and terrorists'..."

The Captain listened to Michael response, then asked, "Senhorita Robb … you say she is an American, like you...? Because the witness accounts claim she attempted to speak to these men in Spanish, then in Portuguese. The witnesses claim she spoke the latter with great skill. I am just curious about this, Mister Hanes. Not many people speak Portuguese outside the nations in which it is a primary language … Portugal, of course … Brazil … some of the former colonies … the Azores, of course."

Again, the Captain listened to Michael's response, then looked back to the report again and paraphrased the report: supposedly, Claudia was pressuring the men to sell them drugs and was offering sexual service to one or all of them when she attacked them. One man was knocked unconscious; another was beaten several times until he fled; the third escaped without injury and came directly to the police station to file the report.

"This young man, Senhor Hanes, as I have said, is disreputable, in my opinion," the Captain continued with a sincere, serious tone, "so I have a difficult time believing his version of the events. He claims … and, I must admit, that I find this incrível … sorry, incredible … he claims that Senhorita Robb … bit his friend … bit him in the neck … like … like an animal … a predator … trying to kill its prey."

The police officer studied Michael's reaction to how he would react to this incrível report. "This man, this witness … claims that Senhorita Robb maintained her..."

He chuckled. "I'm not even sure how to describe it … her lioness-like hold on his friend's neck … while staring directly at him with wild eyes … staring at the witness, I mean. He claims he was fearful for his life and fled."

The Captain rose from his desk chair and circled around to sit on the edge of the desk over Michael, and as he scrutinized the tourist, he completed his report, "While I do not lend much crédito … um … credence, yes...? While I have doubt as to this man's story, I cannot ignore the statement of the second witness … a woman I have known for more than 30 years, whose home looks down upon the alley where this incident occurred."

He retrieved a second witness report and offered it out to Michael as he paraphrased, "This witness, for whom I have the utmost respect and confidence … she claims that after the other two men fled … that Senhorita Robb … and I know how this sounds, but I have no evidence to dispute it … that Miss Robb lifted the man she supposedly bit into her arms … and ran off … carrying him and I quote, '... tão facilmente como se ela estivesse carregando um filho recém-nascido' … 'as easily as if she were carrying a newborn child'."

The police officer studied Michael for his response a moment, then laughed. "I read your description of Senhorita Robb. I also have a description of the missing man. Yes, Senhor Hanes, this man is missing. His friends say he has not returned to his home or to any other place in which they would expect to find him. My point it … this man is just shy of two meters and over 88 kilos … um, almost 200 pounds … and my witness claims that Senhorita Robb simply ran away carrying him in her hands...? Does that even sound possible, Senhor Hanes."

 

[Knightmare27]

What? What he was telling him was so unlike Claudia... drugs? Was there another secret she was hiding from him, or had that been some kind of trick to lure low-lifes somewhere so she could drink their blood?

He suppressed his anger at this absurd accusation long enough to answer relatively calmly: "Cl...Jessie is not addicted to any drugs. And she is not a prostitute, either. Whatever that man told you, I can assure you is total nonsense. I do not know what exactly she did, of course - but one thing is certain: It had nothing to do with drugs. She is just not that kind of girl. And even if - she would buy them, not offer sex for them."

Now, the claim about the various different languages did sound exactly like her. It was quite rude of that policeman to assume that she spoke only English just because she was American... "Yes, she does speak Portuguese. That is why I was so sure she would return safely, in fact. I mean, I could get hopelessly lost here, with my five words of Portuguese... but she is fluent. I thought she would just be able to ask for the way if she got lost."

Okay, now the next part also sounded like her. The fighting part. He was still unsure about that sex and drugs thing. If she had said those words, he could only imagine one possible reason: That she had tried to have a tasty meal of blood. But why take such a massive risk? Now that he knew that she could completely deaden the pain, he would have just let her drink from him, no problem. Why had she done that?

Much to his horror, he showed a look of recognition when he told him that she had bitten one of the men. Probably not the kind of look you would expect on the face of a man who has just been told that his girlfriend hat bitten someone in the neck. Good thing the policeman had no way of knowing just why he had looked like that. Knowing it was too late, he still tried to feign surprise: "B...bit him? She bit him?"

Fuck! He had been far too late in pretending to be surprised. Now the man had to suspect something odd was going on. Even though, of course, he had no way of knowing what exactly. So Claudia, the poor dumb girl, had gone for some...exotic food, and gotten herself into trouble. He still had no idea why she had done so, but, then again, maybe the urge really was that impossible to fight for her.

He gave a nervous chuckle: "Oh, right. I am going to believe that my sweet Jessie just started biting people in the neck like some kind of...what is it? Lioness? On the word of some criminals? She is a sweet girl, never even swears, let alone attacks someone. And now these thugs tell you that she tried to bite someone in the neck like some kind of..." he wanted to say 'vampire' but stopped himself, as if he risked exposing her secret.

Well, damn. Another witness. A much more credible one. And, for some reason, Claudia had caught a severe case of stupid and run off carrying a huge man. In front of witnesses. After biting him. What the fuck was going on? That sounded so unlike the smart, caring girl he knew. Was there another secret side to her? The same side that had taken her over when she had tortured him with her bite?

"Now, captain, I do not want to insult your witness. But you have to admit yourself that this is clearly nonsense. Whatever really happened, I am sure it was nothing like that. Jessie, running around drinking blood and carrying a man larger than her like a baby? I am sure the lady you mentioned is very reliable, but whatever she saw, she must have been mistaken. I would have noticed if my girl was secretly Superman."

Well, in a way, she was secretly Superman, of course. But where could she have carried him off to? "Can you please tell me where that attack allegedly happened? I have been looking for her for hours now, and I am getting kind of desperate. We arrived by ship today, and I had to miss embarkation just to look for Jessie. Besides, the faster I find her, the faster you can have a talk with her and clear up this misunderstanding."

 

[PennySaver]

"Cl...Jessie is not addicted to any drugs. And she is not a prostitute, either."

The Captain caught that Michael began to say a word other than Jessie, but he didn't say anything about it; perhaps this man had a nickname for his female friend, or perhaps he'd simply been about to say something else. He listened to Michael's declaration of Claudia being a good girl and -- while he was used to dealing with liars on a regular basis -- he found this American to sound more credible than the male witness.

But … more credible than his female witness...? Of course, the man was correct that it was insane to believe that this little woman could have muscled a man almost twice her weight into her arms and down the block, never to be seen again.

"B...bit him? She bit him?"

There was something in Michael's tone and body language that made the police officer question his sincerity in being surprised at this part of the report. When the American spoke of drinking blood, though, he interrupted and asked, "Who said anything about drinking blood, Senhor Hanes. I only said the witness reported Senhorita Robb bit the victim … I said nothing about drinking blood."

He smiled and chuckled, saying, "You make your lady friend sound like a vampire."

He caught one of his officers entering in a hurry and -- as he moved casually over to meet with the man -- he asked over his shoulder, "Is Senhorita Robb a vampire, Senhor Hanes?"

The Captain and cop spoke softly for a moment, with the latter handing over some more papers. Michael asked about seeing the scene of the attack, ending, "Besides, the faster I find her, the faster you can have a talk with her and clear up this misunderstanding."

"Yes, yes," the Captain said, "I think that might be a good idea."

He ordered the cop to take Michael to one of their cars and drive him to the scene. The alley was taped off just like one would see on television, though -- being the Azores -- there was an obvious lack of additional patrol officers, CSI-types investigators, and other officers of the law.

The old woman who had offered her knowledge was there as well. She caught Michael's eye and -- deducing who he was -- kept looking his way frequently with a nervous expression. The officer who'd brought the American here divided his time between talking to the two officers on the scene and then explaining what was known to Michael.

"There is little more that you can do here, Senhor," the detective told Michael. "Perhaps if you returned to your room and come back to the station in the morning...?"

Ironically, Michael's room was just two blocks from here, so it didn't seem necessary for the police to give him a ride. They essentially forgot he was there as they grouped around the scene where what looked like blood had been found.

The old woman, though, approached Michael tentatively, looking back over her shoulders at the police to ensure they weren't paying her any undue attention. When she was close, she only spoke one word to Michael, and she spoke it not with fear or worry but with casual inquiry: "Vampire?"

 

[Knightmare27]

Oh crap. He had committed that exact same mistake the suspect always committed in stupid movies. He was right. There had been no talk about drinking blood before Michael had brought it up. Good thing that her secret was so outlandish. Had she actually been a drug addict or a prostitute, or something else mundane, this little slip-up would have spilled it all. This way, he could just parry it with a joke.

"A vampire?" This time he did manage to make his laugh sound completely genuine. "Don't you think she would have chosen a place with less sunshine and garlic, in that case?"

He was surprised when the lady talked to him, but he managed to smile and shake his head at her question. Her English was bad, but serviceable. Certainly much better than his Portuguese. From what he could tell, she was completely sincere about what she had seen. And, knowing Claudia, it was entirely possible that was exactly what had happened. He needed her help, so he listened to her politely, as if he did not quite believe her.

Eventually, after much pointing and switching between the two languages, he had managed to discern the direction in which she had disappeared. Well, that was something. Of course, she had been seen there hours ago, so that did not have to mean anything, but he could not wait for the police to finish their investigation. Especially since he feared what they would do to her once they caught her. Or what she would do to them.

He went off in the direction she had pointed him, deeper into that not-so-good part of town. He had no idea what he was looking for. It was not like she was easy to find when she was not publicly demonstrating superhuman powers. What had she been thinking? It was not the first time she had been impulsive - his neck ached every time he remembered that other time - but this was uncharacteristic for her. Some instinct had to have taken over and driven her to do this. It always disturbed him to be reminded that his girlfriend was, essentially, a predatory animal.

Nothing. No trace of her. How stupid of him. Looking for one woman, even in a town as small as this, had to fail. Especially when all he had to go on was an hours-old clue from a single sighting. No, he had to stop and think. Where would she go?

The problem was that the answer to that appeared to be "practically anywhere". She had been homeless for many years. That meant she was not picky about her choice of hideouts. Especially after she had been spotted giving in to a feeding frenzy in public. And since she was fluent in Portuguese, she did not stand out much. It was no use asking locals about "the American" when she sounded like any local.

It was getting late, and he was about to give up the search. It had been a stupid idea anyway, going off on his own to look for a lone woman somewhere on the island. She could be anywhere. She could have boarded another ship, taken an airplane, or she could be hiding right next to him. The thought of losing her forever made his heart heavy as he slowly, reluctantly, turned around and began to walk to that bar where he slept.