A Lust Story

I had been watching Faustus from the start, curious about the human, sympathetic toward him, jealous and hateful at Vorador. It had been two hundred years in the swamp, and few things changed, save Vorador’s bedfellows, and this was what fueled my rage.

I had not wanted to die, had not asked for my unlife in the swamp, but Vorador had been smitten with me, had decided he must take me. The kidnapping had been cruel, Vorador killed my family, then the months following were worse. Starvation, isolation, torture, until I broke, fell to my knees, and professed a love I did not, and never would, feel.

Vorador had taken me, unwilling in my heart but pliant in my flesh, and then turned me into a vampire, “Why let such beauty waste?” He’d said. It wasn’t long, however, until Vorador had tired of his new pet, and moved on. Now, it would be Faustus, victim to the same routine. I was numb.

Nights passed, and it became clear that Vorador would not break Faustus the same as he had myself, probably because Faustus would not be so hard, so proud, and also because if Vorador kept him, he did not want to deal with the same on-going rage he received from me. Faustus would be sat at Vorador’s side in the banquet hall, shown off like a new toy. I could see Faustus’ disgust for it, but the young man never tried to rebel, always happy to entertain the lord of the manor, a smile at his lips.

The wives, human and vampire alike, never minded Vorador’s new conquests, it allowed them a chance to rest. The human ones pampered and cared for Faustus, as I was to ensure, and life continued as it had for centuries.

It was in the third month that Vorador sent for me.

“Sebastian, you do well, managing my mansion. The fledglings respect you, my wives, I believe, lust after you, and the slaves fear you. Do you have no gratitude that I gave you all this?” Vorador was looking out the window, watching the rain fall into the courtyard.

“My Lord.” I had no answer for him, he knew how I felt.

“Ah, stubborn as always. Oh well.” He turned and looked me in my eyes, a small grin on his face. “Be all that as it may, I have a duty for you to perform.” My back tensed, revulsion swelled in my throat, but I waited, hope beyond hope that he would not do what I feared he would.

“I am going to take a short absence, I want you to run things in my stead. I’ll not be gone long, but I need you to do something very, very important for me,” I held his gaze, unwilling to look away. “My new pet, Faustus, I want him ready when I return. The games of breaking and taking have become too old for me, I want you to let him know, in no uncertain terms, what shall be expected of him, and that there is no avoiding it. You understand?” I nodded, grateful that he’d wanted no special attention from me, as I’d feared.

“And Sebastian, you should smile once in a while, that scowl is unbecoming of one so noble looking.” With that, Vorador turned back to the window, and I left the room, knowing I was but a game piece, that so simple sounding a task could never be as it seemed.

Vorador left at sundown, telling no one of his plans, though I suspected he was going to see his old master. Few knew he’d gone, so tonight would be as all the others, a meaningless celebration, ending when all the vampires were blood drunk, and the slaves too exhausted to move another inch.

Fialia, one of Vorador’s vampire wives came to me not long after he’d gone and told me of trouble in the human wives wing of the manner. With a sigh, I set off to see what the matter could be this time.

The women were screaming, several running through the hall. I reached out and grabbed one, Ishtell, and demanded to know what was going on. “Sebastian, thank the Gods you’ve come! The boy, he’s gone mad, he has Martula and is threatening to throw her in the bath! Stop him, oh please stop him!” Martula was one of the vampire wives, and what she was doing in this part of the manner eluded me, but nonetheless, I could not let her be killed, or even burnt. I walked up the corridor, and headed into the bathing room, and saw a scene of wreckage.

Martula was held by her neck, inches from the tub, and Faustus was shouting unintelligibly. “Martula, are you hurt?”

With frantic and streaming eyes Martula looked at me, “Sebastian… help?” I sighed, she should have been much stronger than Faustus, but was too afraid because of how near the water she was. I knew already what had happened.

“Surely Faustus, you would not kill a woman who came here to throw herself at you? Martula is beautiful, albeit not the most intelligent of creatures. Let her go, because, though you may be successful in her murder, you’ll never escape, and your death will be far from easy.”

“If I let her go, give me your word of honor that you’ll release me as well. I have seen you, I know you’re the one in charge, you can do this for me, you can send me home.” I stifled a laugh, if only Vorador had been here, he would have telekinetically sent the boy into the wall. Alas, I was left with my own persuasion.

“Release her, and I will free you. I do not know where you come from, so we’ll have to talk, and make arrangements so as to keep you from ending up in another situation so like this one. My Lord is not here now, and I see no problem in letting you escape, to save my beautiful sister.” I had only a small amount of mental ability to charm humans with, but it seemed to work nonetheless. Slowly Faustus stepped back from the water, and released Martula who ran on unsure feet from the room, full of terror no doubt that I would report the entire incident to her husband.

Without a moments hesitation, I leapt the tub and tackled Faustus, smashing him into the floor. “You are a very, very stupid human. I’ll tell you now, there is no escape, there is no freedom. When Vorador returns, he will rape you until you either split up the middle or beg him to continue, and then, he will chain your soul so surely into your body that you too will be trapped here until we all die. Have I made myself clear?” I growled at him, contemplating killing him then and there, wondering what stories I could make up.

Faustus tried to struggle but found my grip to be iron. He cried like a girl, and with a single blow, I rendered him unconscious.

The sun was riding high in the sky by the time Faustus opened his eyes, and I was the first thing he saw, pacing back and forth. “Don’t mind the manacles, as long as you don’t struggle over much they’ll leave no scars. Now, tell me, what did you really hope to achieve in there? There are thirty-eight vampire wives alone, sixty-three fledglings, and myself about this place, not to mention that the fifty-six human wives and thirty human slaves would just as thoughtlessly hunt you down and kill you. Believe me, I was in your place once, and had there been an escape, we’d not be talking this day, in fact, I’d be so long dead my bones would have crumbled into dust by now.” I sent as piercing a glare at him as I could muster, unwilling to let him know that I too, hated it here.

“This place is horrible, I would sooner die than stay! You’re all monsters, all of you, human or no! My master will come for me, you will see, and then, when you’re all writhing down the stakes of the Sarafan, you will regret this moment!”

“Brave words indeed. And who is this ‘master’ you speak of, boy, pray tell?” I was genuinely curious, Faustus did not look like a slave.

“The nobleman Xorian. He will pay a ransom for me, I know he will…”

“I’ve never heard of a Xorian, and a moment ago, I thought you said we’d all be impaled.” I laughed softly, trying not to enjoy this too much. I stepped toward him, and reached my hand out to his shoulder, pulling down his collar to stare at the skin where a slave’s brand would be. “You’re no slave, dressed too well, too well bred. Try again, little human.”

“I am no slave! I serve ....Temple....! Ownership cannot be branded onto my skin, you fool!” He tried to spit at me, not realizing that human spit is actually not harmful to vampires at all, for some reason. I dodged anyway.

“A whore then, well you’ll fit right in, as it is your flesh Vorador wants anyway. And if so much is true, you’d have had an escort when we found you, unless you ran away on your own. Now, how right am I?” He cast his eyes down in shame, and I knew I was right indeed. There would be no master looking for him, no temple willing to take him back.

“Why do you torment me?” Tears streamed from Faustus’ eyes, and I let my smile go, resuming my ever present scowl.

“Do you think I hold no revulsion for what I’ve become? Do you think I wanted to be what I am? Hah. I was as you are once, trapped, kept. There is nothing you can do. As I said, when Vorador returns, you’ll either give him what he wants, or he will take it.” And with that, I turned on my heel and left.

For the next four days I did not allow anyone to bring Faustus food, but water once a day. Then I went back.

“Sebastian… I have seen you watching me… I know you want to touch my flesh… I am willing to give you what you want, oh, and more, if only you help me…” I laughed, and walked out. Whores will always try to use their tricks, after all.

Another two days passed, still no food, and this time I revoked his right to water as well. I thought he might have learned by then, and I was right.

“Still alive, I see. No bargains for me this time? A pity. If I leave you here too much longer though, you’ll not be so pretty anymore. Now, are you ready to live civilly?” Faustus nodded, too weak to utter a word.

I hated doing this to Faustus, as it had once been done to me, and I knew now why Vorador had made me his instrument, existence was always a game.

I could have made a slave do it, but instead I carried Faustus to his chamber, a lavish cell, and laid him down. I bolted the door as I left, and returned with his food, and fed him from my hands. It was clear that a level of dementia had taken hold of him, and I stayed in the room after he fell into a feverish sleep, waiting for him to wake again.

I had dosed off somehow, and opened my eyes to a very handsome, very naked body before me. Faustus’ was lithely shaped, shorter than I was, thin, with long hair that when down, framed his face and made his eyes appear to be maroon.

In over a hundred years, I had touched no one but my victims, ripping their throats out quickly, avoiding the thought of my actions, and now, before me, stood a bribe of flesh.

I felt no doubt that Faustus was a ....Temple.... whore, he was well shaped enough. I knew of their customs from my human life, their order was an old one, and I could tell he’d either not yet been bred, or had a few debts left to pay to the sisters of the order, he was not a eunuch. He tried to smile, probably the one they taught him from birth, but the seduction was pointless to me.

“You’re wasting your time. It would be no difficult task for Vorador to flay me open and make laces of my guts. Give up.” I stood, and stepped toward him, and he stumbled backwards, afraid. He lacked the courage to follow through with his plan, and I laughed.

“How can you be so cruel? Do I not please you?” Tears welled in his eyes, but I knew it was only a farce, another ....Temple.... trick.

“If you’re afraid of me, and I still hold my humanly form, wait until Vorador comes for you, there is little pleasing about his anatomy.”

“Would you truly stand back so he could defile me? Leave me to suffer?”

“Oh, well, it’s not so bad. Terrible, yes, but I’m afraid you’ll find that you’ll live.” And with that grim remark, I walked out, and bolted the door behind me.

In my own quarters, I flushed with rage; rage that Vorador had killed me, made me what I was, rage that I wanted something I dare not take, rage that I was ever put into this position. I forced my eyes closed, and wrestled with them that they remain thus.

Nights passed with nary an incident, I kept Faustus chained away in his quarters, attended by slaves, but before I knew it, I found myself at his door.

I whispered a curse at Vorador, and a curse at Faustus, and pushed the door open. Faustus slept before me, eyes clasped against the madness that was the mansion. I sat beside him, softly, and bent, pressing my lips gently against his. Maroon eyes fluttered open, startled, but still, I kissed him.

Perhaps it was desperation, perhaps it was habit, but Faustus kissed me back, and gripped my shoulders. Since my becoming a vampire, precious few moments had been pleasurable to me, and the only kisses I’d ever had had been taken from me, as Vorador affirmed his supremacy. I thought that Faustus needed this as I did, and thus consented.

In moments gone too quickly to think, to recognize as time elapsed at all, Faustus and I had pulled the clothing from one another. “I knew you couldn’t hold out forever, I was waiting for you,” he breathed into my ear.

Talented fingers found my arousal, warm and living, and pumped at me enthusiastically. I moaned ecstatically, and pushed myself closer into the pleasure offered. I grasped Faustus tightly, wanting the moment to continue forever, but he pulled back from me, and looked into my eyes.

“Sebastian, you will help me?” I moaned my assent, willing now to do anything asked, to face any wrath imagined. Faustus lowered himself, and wrapped my cock in the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking and licking, pulling me to a feeling only hinted at before, nearly attained and just as quickly lost.

I grasped at bed-sheets, writhing in euphoria, unable to mask my lust, knowing I was moments from my completion as Faustus flicked his tongue so skillfully beneath the head of my cock. Behind my eyelids, a white light began to blossom, but at the edges of my consciousness, I could hear… Feel footsteps, so familiar… So malevolent.

In a panic I pulled away from my newfound heaven, and quickly silenced Faustus of his questions. I scanned the room, pulling my pants up quickly, and to my disappointment, found only floor length velvet curtains behind which to hide.

“Vorador is coming, he is speaking to a fledgling on the other side of your door. Do not betray my presence, he will kill us both.” And I lunged for the drape.

In mere seconds, I heard the door scrape back across the stone floors, and the footsteps that signaled my master entering the room.

"You must be well trusted, human, that Sebastian leaves your door unlocked.”

“I’ve seen Sebastian but only a few nights since your absence my Lord, he’s made clear that there is no escape, that my life rests in your hands.” The words were choked, and I prayed that Vorador believed them.

“He is… a good servant, Sebastian. For all his hate and all his disdain, no better help could I have ever found without him. He is… priceless, as I hope you too shall prove to be.” Vorador chuckled, and it was a sound I knew and despised well.

“My Lord, what can I do for you? Surely, there are tensions that you must feel? Head of so great an estate, master of so many? I am… capable of many things, I was raised in ....Temple...., and I understand the troubles of so powerful a man…”

“Yes, I’m sure you do. I see that you are in fact quite ready to relieve my strain. Were you, perhaps, waiting?” I cringed, knowing Vorador found Faustus’ nudity suspicious, hoping only that my own clothes were crumpled inconspicuously in the bed covers.

“My Lord, I prefer no restrictions in my sleep, clothes can be… so clumsy. Please, let me aide you.” I knew half of Faustus reactions had to be training, ingrained in him since childhood, but he could have just as easily given me up, claimed that I had forced him. He was helping me, and I could not deny it.

Through the curtain I could see dark outlines, Vorador sitting upon the bed, Faustus rubbing his shoulders. It did not take long for Vorador to be ready, to address what he’d come for.

“Do you find my countenance divine?”

“Yes, how could I not? You are surely a God, I am no fool…”

Vorador silenced Faustus with a smashed kiss, pushing the human into the complying bed.

In shame I hid behind the curtain, trying to press myself into nothingness, hoping that my backside was not visible through the window in the courtyard, praying that something would deter Vorador, reverse events.

Faustus’ act at pleasure was passable, but Vorador knew it was a farce. “Child, I enjoy your pretense, but truly, I want you. Give me yourself.” Faustus tried to protest, to say that his desire was truthful, and Vorador bit him. As I’d known, satisfaction could not be had without some struggle.

Vorador commanded that Faustus remove his clothing, and I could picture only too well in my mind green scales in contrast to milk white skin.

Faustus tried to beg, and Vorador’s cold laughs silenced him, brought tears. “You are an impressive being, gorgeous…” And Faustus cried, while I watched Vorador rip him open, cramming his inhuman appendage into the unprepared flesh of the human body before him.

Faustus screamed, ineffectual, and Vorador grunted, glee barely contained. I wilted, frustration rising to the surface of my flesh. Everything I wanted, everything, Vorador stole from me. I understood now why it had been set that I should work upon Faustus, so that, again, Vorador had something he could take from me.

Shouts of pain and moans of pleasure erupted on the other side of the curtain I hid behind, and I could do nothing, nothing but listen and watch.

All told, the ordeal probably lasted twenty minutes before Vorador collapsed, grunting and laughing, and Faustus sobbed beneath the weight of the old bastard. I bit my tongue, and pushed with all my might, willing my anger to subside.

“So pretty, still. Yes, I’ll be keeping you.” Vorador stood, and pulled his affects back on. I held my breath, stale in my lungs, and waited for the moment to pass, praying that Vorador would leave now, but it was not to be so. Vorador looked directly at the curtain I hid behind, and released peals of laughter, piercing me. He knew. Of course he knew. And he wanted me to know that he knew. The second stretched into infinity, and then, Vorador was gone.

Gasping and writhing in agony, Faustus lay on the bed, I stepped from behind the curtains and looked down at him, seeing what I myself had been two centuries before. I held the human, smoothing his hair from his face, but breathed in the sour scent of Vorador’s sin, fresh upon Faustus flesh and the sheets.

Faustus wept into sleep as the sun rose, glowing softly through the thick curtains, and I crept back to my own rooms, a cold terror steeling me for what awaited.

I peeled the leather of my top from myself, exhausted in body and soul, and collapsed onto my bed, exhaling. It was a wicked laugh from the shadows that sealed my doom, and I knew it.

“I’ve been waiting my sweet, and I am ready,” Vorador’s rasp was unkind as ever, and I cringed my eyes in anticipation and disgust.