Dance of Dominance, 12th in the Dance series of Forever Knight fan fiction





 
Dance of Dominance 
By Lorelei Sieja 
Warning!
An Uffish story…and very dark. Adults only, and only if you enjoy reading BDSM 
fiction. You may skip this story and continue with #13 Dance with Destiny. 
  LaCroix stared at his youngest child while she slept, his thoughts drifting 
  back over the centuries to the training of the others. Janette had been the 
  easiest to subdue, and yet, there was a part of her that he would never own. 
  Nicholas refused to submit completely... yet he craved it with every fiber of 
  his being. LaCroix felt a hardening in his loins at the memories, and clamped 
  down. There would be time enough for that later. 
  Tracy's Spanish lesson had been a minimal success. She could swear quite 
  eloquently, yet only one week had passed and already she was bored. She smiled 
  perkily, but her tone was often sarcastic. She must have forgotten the first 
  rule he'd ever taught her. He was her master. It was time to remind her again, 
  so thoroughly, that it was one lesson she would never again forget. 
  "Tracy, arise, my child. We have much work to do," he called. 
  She stirred from her slumber, stretching sensuously like a cat uncurling from 
  a long nap. Her fang tips emerged over her bottom lip, but she restrained her 
  hunger. "Good evening, Dad," she said saucily. 
  For a moment he felt a curl in his lip. She was so daring and while he loved 
  her cavalier attitudes, it was wholly inappropriate for today's lesson. "Come 
  here," he said. 
  Tracy jumped at the firm tone and felt a shiver down her spine. Had she done 
  something to anger him? Clutching the sheet to her naked breasts, she 
  hesitated. "Just let me get dressed and I'll be right out," she stammered. 
  "Here. Now." His face was chiseled in stone, unrelenting. 
  Slowly Tracy turned down the covers and rose, standing a little unsteady. She 
  did not want to be anywhere near him. "What did I do? I'm sorry, whatever it 
  is!" 
  He did not speak again, but snapped his finger and pointed to the spot of the 
  floor directly in front of him. The sound was loud in the silence of the empty 
  manor. With slow, timid steps, she came nearer. She heard her own undead heart 
  pulse once, loudly in her ears. She stared at the Roman General and searched 
  for a glimmer of the passionate lover she'd had last night. 
  "Hands out." 
  Tracy looked at her hands, confused. She'd taken nothing. She held them out 
  for LaCroix to see, trembling slightly. 
  LaCroix snapped a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, securing them snuggly. 
  Tracy gasped. "What are you doing!" 
  "Silence!" he roared. 
  "LaCroix, what is it you think I did? I haven't done anything, honest!" 
  "Must I gag you, my Pet?" 
  Tracy clamped her mouth. She lowered her eyes, unable to look at the potent 
  fury in his face. She didn't see the black silk he pulled from a pocket, until 
  it was folded over her eyes. She jerked back, but he caught her hair in his 
  hand. 
  "Hold still," he said. His breath whispered across her ear. She felt her fangs 
  itch at his nearness. She was frightened and confused, but also getting 
  hungry. 
  He tightened the silk and tied it securely. Tracy could see nothing. She felt 
  a rope as it brushed against her hands, then looped around the handcuffs. 
  "Come," he said. The rope jerked on her wrists and she stepped forward. It was 
  frightening, walking blindfolded and naked. Tracy wanted to argue, but he had 
  commanded her to silence. She reached out with her vampire senses... he was 
  closed off to her. That was never a good sign. 
  She felt a tear escape and trail down her cheek. "I'm sorry, LaCroix," she 
  pleaded again. "Please tell me how I offended you? What did I do wrong?" 
  "You refuse to be silent," he snapped. 
  She shut her mouth. 
  Down the length of the hallway she walked, handcuffed and led about like a 
  slave. She felt the chill ocean breeze play across her skin. The windows must 
  be open, she thought distractedly. 
  Then she felt a shift in the rope; it dropped, and LaCroix's ancient heart 
  pulsed from a lower angle. He expected her to walk down the stairs 
  blindfolded? She felt anger wash over her and she stood still, her feet firmly 
  planted. 
  "Come!" LaCroix snapped the rope, jerking her wrists. 
  Fearfully, she moved a foot foreword and found the edge of the stair, then 
  slid her foot down, feeling the back of the step on her calf. One step, two 
  steps. She felt precarious, like standing on a cliff's edge, and wondered how 
  Nick managed to look so graceful as he negotiated stairs even without his 
  guide dog. They descended to the first floor, walked down another hallway and 
  down more stairs. The temperature was cooler and the air slightly damp. They 
  must be in the basement, she thought. 
  "What was the first lesson I taught you, my child," LaCroix said. 
  Tracy didn't have to think. "That you are my master," she replied. Her first 
  week with him had been turbulent. Her new abilities had frightened her and she 
  had openly defied him again and again. When she had placed her own life in 
  jeopardy, he had rescued her. Then, he spanked her. She still burned with 
  humiliation at the memory, which was just as sharp and painful as if it had 
  just happened yesterday. 
  He had taught her many things in the ten months since her conversion. He had 
  taught her that he loved her. Not just because she was Nick's partner, but for 
  herself. He taught her to control her new strengths and to whammy rats, to 
  speak Spanish, to fly, and even recently he'd been giving her waltzing 
  lessons. She loved the person - no, vampire - she was becoming and she owed it 
  all to him. 
  "I see that you have not forgotten everything, then, my child," he said, his 
  deep voice a dangerous purr. 
  She waited, listening to the silence, fear mingled with bewilderment. 
  "However, you do not act like you understand this basic principle. I am sorry, 
  my child, that I must insist we work on that." 
  "What have I done?" she begged again, her voice small and desperate. 
  "For the rest of the summer, you shall not speak unless I give you permission 
  to speak! You shall address me only as "Master" or "Sir". You shall obey me 
  immediately, without question!" 
  Tracy winced at his sharp words. 
  "But-" 
  A sharp whistle was her only warning before a stinging blow landed on her bare 
  ass. Tracy cried out. 
  "Silence!" 
  Tracy bit her lip. Her wrists were jerked again and pulled over her head. The 
  rope wrapped around something, securing her upstretched arms. She tugged at 
  them defensively. Ropes were nothing compared to vampiric strength. 
  "Be still, my slave," LaCroix warned. "That's right. You are my slave. I see 
  the rebellion in your very stance. You think to get away, to flee from me, but 
  where, my pet, would you go? You see that no one in the mortal world can 
  protect you. And in the world of the vampire, I am your master. It is my right 
  to train you, to subdue you, even to destroy you, as I see fit." 
  Tracy shivered. Very real fear started in the pit of her stomach, yet oddly 
  enough, she felt desire begin to form in her bud. LaCroix had spanked her once 
  before and then he had given her the best sex she'd ever had. The spanking had 
  not been so terrible. Perhaps it was worth it, if it turned him on. She tried 
  to still the fear in her heart. 
  "Now. You shall not cry out. You shall not make a single sound, until I give 
  you permission to do otherwise. Simply nod your head if you understand." 
  Tracy nodded. 
  "Good. Very good." 
  She heard him move a few feet away. He handled something, and then she heard a 
  sharp crack. The whip split the air very near her ear but it did not touch 
  her. She couldn't stop the sudden gasp of surprise. 
  "I see that obedience will take some time," LaCroix sighed. "For that, you 
  have earned ten more. Now remain silent!" 
  Ten more, she thought. Than what? He hadn't told her the total number. She 
  clenched her teeth firmly. She would not disobey him again. 
  Again he coiled the whip and snapped. A stinging blow smacked her right butt 
  cheek. With her teeth clenched, she did not utter a sound. She listened 
  intently, for the coiling of the whip, but there was no warning, when it 
  struck again, across her lower back. Her ass still burning, and now her back, 
  her skin felt highly sensitized. Every little nerve ending was at attention, 
  and all of her was focused on the master from hell. A loud snap, this one 
  across the tops of her thighs. 
  Tracy tried to think about this week. How had she so annoyed him? She had 
  thought that this summer would be a chance to get to know one another better, 
  that she would enjoy having him to herself, away from Nick, and the nightclub, 
  and his lover… she felt tears in her eyes and wished to hell he was back in 
  Toronto now. 
  More slashes found her left butt cheek, her shoulder blades, the backs of her 
  knees, her calf muscles, again to her butt. Tears were streaming silently down 
  her face now. Had he even begun on the last ten yet? Her wrists were starting 
  to feel a little numb. She didn't know how much more she could endure. 
  Again the whip cracked. Her back was on fire. Her ass had to be beet red by 
  now. The whip marked her inner thigh, her legs, and again on her ass. Tracy 
  felt her knees weaken, felt her weight pull on the handcuffs. 
  LaCroix drew nearer and removed the silk blindfold. He touched her tears and 
  brought them to his lips. She stared, awed, at his golden eyes and delicious 
  fangs. She felt moist to her core, and prayed that they had moved on to the 
  kiss-and-make-up part. 
  "I see that you have had enough of the whip," LaCroix said calmly. "However, 
  there is that matter of the last ten." 
  She almost gasped, but held her tongue. 
  "Very good, slave." He reached up and untied the ropes. She let her arms down, 
  feeling pricks of discomfort run through them. 
  "Go to the foot of the bed," he commanded. "Grip onto the foot board and bend 
  over." 
  Tracy felt numb. She took tiny steps, her skin on fire, as she saw the room 
  for the first time. 
  It had no windows. It was more than a basement... it looked like a dungeon. 
  The stone was painted white, the floor was plushly carpeted, but there was 
  leather, chains, and instruments of pain and bondage everywhere, along with 
  large mirrors, a full entertainment center, and an enormous four-poster bed. 
  Tracy took the horizontal bar of the footboard in her hands hesitantly. Maybe 
  she would pass out and it would end? Feeling too much pain to be humiliated, 
  she bent low. 
  "Now, you will count out each stroke clearly. If I cannot hear you, we shall 
  start over," LaCroix said. 
  She tensed her ass, but it was burning. Then she felt the smack of a wooden 
  paddle, driven home with the strength of a vampire. She wondered that her 
  bones didn't crack. 
  "One!" she screamed, tears of pain and rage flooding down her face. 
  LaCroix pulled back the paddle and waited, admiring her reddened ass. She had 
  such a lovely tush, well shaped and smooth and rather innocent. He smelled her 
  arousal, as well, which pleased him. He had not been wrong about this one. 
  Although she claimed that she hated her domineering, mortal father, what she 
  truly hated was that he was all bluster and no bite. He spoke a tough story, 
  but when it came down to making her mind, he couldn't carry through. She had 
  been a naughty, rebellious child, pushing his limits, and his lack of 
  discipline convinced her that he did not truly love her. LaCroix would 
  convince her otherwise. She would obey him, she would love him, but she would 
  know that he loved her and would never allow her to come to any harm, even 
  from her own foolishness. He would protect her, always. 
  Renewed in purpose, he swung the polished paddle again, smacking her ass 
  sharply. 
  "Two!" 
  "Three!" 
  "Four!" She sobbed now, her shoulders shaking with the effort. He almost 
  relented, but he had promised her a spanking. She had to know that he carried 
  out his promises. 
  "Five!" 
  The next swat she didn't speak at first. She sobbed, gasping for breath. He 
  paused. "I didn't hear you," he warned. "Shall we begin over?" 
  "No!" 
  "No, what?" 
  "No, Master! Six! Hotdam, it's six!" 
  He was annoyed with her angry retort. He drew the paddle back further and 
  landed the next blow with twice the strength. Her knees buckled and she almost 
  fell. 
  "Seven, Master!" she sobbed, more respectfully. 
  "Eight!" 
  "Nine!" 
  He had never seen such a beautiful shade of red. Her natural complexion had 
  been fair, made more so by her conversion. Now, it showed off the red so 
  perfectly. He laid a feather-light kiss on her ass before delivering the final 
  blow. 
  "Ten," she gasped, then trying to make her voice more clear, "ten!" 
  "Very good, slave. You may stand." 
  Tracy struggled to obey. Her fangs were full, her hunger crying out to be 
  satisfied. Feeding would ease away the misery of pain and hunger, but the 
  humiliation would never fade. She stood unsteadily, unsure of what to do next. 

  "Come here and kneel," LaCroix said. 
  She turned around. He was sitting in a large, leather chair, his feet flat on 
  the floor and slightly apart. She hadn't noticed before, but he was fully 
  dressed, black pants, shoes, and shirt, a silver pin at his throat. She moved 
  slowly towards him, every step a lesson in agony, her ass burning, her face 
  still wet with blood tears. She knelt at his feet. She could not lean back; 
  her ass could not touch her heels. She was certain she would faint >from the 
  pain. 
  "We do not feel pain as mortals do," LaCroix said philosophically. "A shot 
  from a gun is only a mild annoyance, like a bee sting to most mortals, and 
  then it is gone. Broken bones heal within an hour of feeding. Only a beating 
  takes longer, my pet. It would seem that by injuring only the flesh, and not 
  creating an open wound, the vampiric nature is confused and slow to respond." 
  Tracy didn't think a response was required, so she remained mute. 
  "It pains me to punish my children, but your discipline must be absolute. 
  Disrespect to an elder could be punishable by death. When we leave here this 
  summer, respect will be second nature for you, and you will never forget your 
  manners." 
  She didn't know how he did it, but his voice sounded so soft and loving right 
  now, it was hard to remember that he was the same man who had just beaten her 
  within an inch of her unlife. No, vampire. He was not a man at all. And she 
  was never in danger of being destroyed from a mere spanking. It hurt like 
  hell, but she would not die from it. She felt a warmth spread in her pussy, 
  yearning for him to comfort her. 
  "Prove to me what you have learned," LaCroix said firmly. "Suck me." 
  Tracy stared up at him in surprise. There was no sign of jest, only a cold, 
  calculated look of supremacy. With trembling fingers, she found his silver 
  belt buckle and loosened it. Next she opened the top button at the waistband 
  and tugged down the zipper. His hard dick proudly sprang upward, raising his 
  silk boxers in its eagerness. She slipped her fingers inside the band and 
  slowly pulled the boxers down, freeing him. 
  LaCroix spread his legs apart a little more, the only move he made to assist. 
  She edged closer to him on her knees, tentatively stroking his inner thighs. 
  He smelled wonderful. Perhaps, if she brought him to heights of desire, he 
  would bury that wonderful dick in her and ease her aches away. Eagerly, she 
  took him in her mouth, sheathing her teeth to keep from hurting him. 
  He sat still, not thrusting his hips into her, but waiting for her to do all 
  the work. She sucked on his beautiful cock tip, tasting the drops of bloody 
  semen hungrily. It spread a warmth through her. It was too small an offering 
  to even begin to heal her or ease her hunger, but it tasted delicious! She 
  took more of him inside her mouth, relaxing her throat to accommodate his 
  massive size. Down, the up again, she sucked on him, making her mouth do what 
  her cunt begged for, imagining that it was her cunt, that her own needs would 
  swell and explode, and she would be on the cloud of passion and fulfillment. 
  Her fingers gently grasped his balls, kneading them lightly as she continued 
  to suck. She heard his undead heart take another beat, felt a tremor start 
  through him, and heard a faint contented sigh. She felt empowered that she had 
  brought him there. Still the cock remained hard and firm. She tightened her 
  mouth a little and increased the tempo. Her cunt was miserable. She dropped on 
  hand to herself to touch it, but LaCroix slapped it away. 
  "You will not touch yourself, slave. Ever! Not without permission." 
  Damn, she thought. How much more could she endure? Surely he had to be near to 
  exploding, she thought. Then, he grasped her wrist and bit, letting her blood 
  fill him and bring him to completion. His blood seed pumped into her throat. 
  She gulped hungrily, struggling to savor every drop. 
  LaCroix released her wrist after closing the shallow wound. "Lick me clean," 
  he commanded. 
  Tracy complied eagerly, lapping up all of the semen before he tucked himself 
  back inside his clothing. Her eyes clouded over with disillusionment. He was 
  satisfied, but she was still on fire! 
  "Bring me something to drink, slave," he said. 
  "Yes, Master." Tracy rose. Every step was torture. Her ass throbbed. She felt 
  every inch of her skin intently, but most of all was the ache in her cunt. She 
  wanted him there, now! Desperately! 
  She went to the small refrigerator and poured him a drink. Her own fangs 
  erupted again at the scent of blood. "May I feed, master?" she asked. 
  "No." 
  Tracy brought him back the glass. LaCroix scowled. "Kneel before your master, 
  slave." 
  Tracy dropped to her knees and held the glass out. He took it then and drank, 
  savoring the flavor. Tracy could not still her trembling. 
  LaCroix felt himself grow hard again. She was so delectable! But damn, he 
  wasn't ready to satisfy her. He was a master at training submissives. He knew 
  he had not yet reached her defiant core. He must quench her rebelliousness 
  without breaking her spirit, something he had not yet succeeded with Nicholas. 
  Still, he knew it was possible. Slowly, he sipped the blood wine and 
  considered his options. 
  "Fill my bath, slave," he commanded. 
  Tracy started to rise, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. 
  She started to ask him what she'd done now, but clenched her teeth before she 
  could speak the disrespectful words. "Yes, Master," she said. 
  He released her, smiling paternally. 
  Tracy rose and looked around the room. In the far corner was an entrance to a 
  large bath, with an enormous Jacuzzi. She dropped the plug and turned on the 
  taps. This would take a long time to fill. Should she wait here? 
  "Come, slave," he spoke. 
  She responded mechanically. She didn't have to think, she realized. He would 
  think for her. It was wonderfully freeing, in a strange sort of way. 
  "Undress me." 
  Tracy moved carefully, mindful that her quivering, vampire fingers could shred 
  the delicate fabric so easily. She removed the silver pin from his collar, and 
  undid the buttons one at a time. At each space of exposed skin, she placed a 
  tender kiss. He smelled wonderful, and she wanted him so much. 
  Next she undid his belt again, but he took it, drawing it from the belt loops, 
  and held it lovingly. Her ass tightened instinctively as she stared at the 
  leather. He chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. "You have nothing to fear 
  from this, my child, as long as you please me." 
  That wasn't very comforting, she thought. Then she returned to undressing him 
  and all thoughts of the belt were gone. His dick was rock hard again, tall and 
  thick, a proud Roman soldier in its own right. She laid a kiss on it. LaCroix 
  shifted the weight from his feet so she could remove his pants, socks, and 
  shoes. Then, impulsively, she kissed his smooth, white feet. 
  "Kneel," he told her. "On all fours." 
  She did as he commanded, eager as her cunt waited expectantly for him. 
  LaCroix knelt behind her. That red ass was so tempting! He needed it, and it 
  shocked him how much. A drop of semen oozed from him. He leaned over her, 
  letting the drop fall on her ass. Then, with his dick, he smoothed the semen 
  around her anus. 
  Tracy tensed. No one had ever touched her there! She jerked, but his hands on 
  her hips held her firm. Then one hand slapped her burning ass, not too hard, 
  but the pain was immediate. 
  "Never deny me anything, slave. I own you, and all that was once yours. I own 
  your body, mind, and soul. Submit to your master!" 
  "Yes, Master," she whispered. 
  He could smell her tears again. Good, he thought. Perhaps these lessons could 
  be completed in the short span of summer? 
  LaCroix's dick had flagged slightly. Now he bent to kiss her battered ass, to 
  smell her hot juices, to admire the bruises he had inflicted upon her. 
  Immediately hard again, he chuckled at his own eagerness. 
  He straightened and again dripped bloody semen on her anus, smoothing it 
  around. "Relax, my child. Learn to trust me," he said, his voice like hot 
  silver. 
  Tracy felt his thick dick press at the small, tight opening. She tried to 
  relax and to obey. He pushed in an inch and she winced, crying out. He held 
  still for a moment, reaching under her belly to fondle her breasts. She arched 
  her back, pressing her breasts into his palms, feeling the hard, pointed 
  nipples brush against his firm, rough skin. In arching her back, she also 
  relaxed her ass and he pushed in further. The pain was different. It was tense 
  yet not unpleasant. She wriggled her hips in a small circle, sensing his dick 
  inside and slightly gripping it. 
  LaCroix pinched her breasts until she gasped in pleasure, then he rammed into 
  her, slamming his balls against her ass. 
  "Ah!" she cried out. 
  He withdrew most of the way, then slammed in again. She lost her balance and 
  started to fall, only his hands on her breasts held her. 
  "Support yourself, slave," he commanded. 
  "Yes! Ah... yes, master!" she gasped. 
  LaCroix moved his hands back to her hips and dug his fingers in firmly, 
  slamming in to her mercilessly. He was so hard! Always, with Natalie, he had 
  to be careful not to bruise her or kill her, but with Tracy he need not worry. 
  He wanted her blood, but he held back, letting the sensations fill him. Out 
  and back, he set up a steady rhythm, slowing down the frequency of his 
  thrusts, but not the force. Tracy continued to squirm and cry out in 
  unfulfilled desire. He saw a trickle of blood escape from her anus and knew 
  that he must have injured her, for he had not yet exploded. It would heal 
  over, he knew, yet still he felt a moment of shame. He had hurt Nicholas 
  terribly the first time he took him, and the boy still feared this kind of 
  intimacy. 
  Tracy sensed he was slowing down, and she pushed her ass into him, grinding 
  her ass against the roughness of his pubic hair and crying out. LaCroix smiled 
  as he sensed her desire. She was so on fire for him that she didn't even know 
  the pain. He slapped her battered ass lightly. "Slow down, my pet," he 
  whispered. "All in good time." 
  At once she was like putty and he was a master builder. He could do anything 
  with her. He rode her longer, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Then, wild with 
  need, he pulled her up until her back was pressed to his chest, her breasts 
  cupped in his hands, and he buried his fangs in her throat. As her blood, 
  filled with her passion, flooded into his mouth, he spilled his seed inside 
  her. He held her tight while the spasms shook him, rocking him to the core of 
  his experience. A light blood sweat broke out on his brow. LaCroix was beyond 
  shock at his own response. This one was a jewel. He could never let anything 
  happen to her! 
  Tracy was still unfulfilled and nearly crazy with the need. Her starved, 
  battered body absorbed his blood semen with alarming speed, but it did not let 
  her find her own release. She shimmied her hips against him once, as if to 
  remind him of her presence. 
  "Patience," he said. Then slowly he pulled out of her. "I believe it is time 
  to check on my bath." 
  She stood on trembling legs, like one just waking from a dream. "Yes, master," 
  she whispered. She would do anything for him now. She had to please him, so he 
  would satisfy her. And she loved him, so very much that it hurt! She felt new 
  tears, blood she could not afford to waste, fill her eyes at the new 
  knowledge. Yes! She loved him! And she loved him like this: powerful, 
  dominant, demanding. It gave her purpose, as she strove to please and satisfy. 
  And it freed her. Her brain didn't have to think or worry or wonder. She had 
  only to obey. 
  The water was high enough. She turned off the taps, then returned to LaCroix 
  where he stood beside the bed. She knelt at his feet as he had requested of 
  her before. "Your bath awaits, Master," she said. She felt incredibly happy as 
  she said it. 
  "Come, slave. You shall share my bath." 
  Tracy stood and felt his hands on her shoulders. Now, his hands were tender. 
  He placed one arm behind her legs and scooped her into his embrace. 
  Effortlessly, he carried her to the tub and lowered her into the warm water as 
  though she was something he treasured. Then he slipped in behind her. 
  Tracy leaned back against his firm chest. He hadn't given her any more 
  commands, so she just waited, passive and submissive, until he needed 
  something more. Her eyes closed. 
  The water was very soothing. The soft jets massaged her sore muscles, but she 
  couldn't quite get comfortable for the pain of her burning ass. 
  LaCroix lifted her and turned her around, so she straddled him. "Better, my 
  pet?" he asked. 
  Now, supported more by her thighs, she nodded dreamily. 
  LaCroix looked so handsome, she thought with a moment of surprise. She had 
  thought he was too old for her the first time she noticed him, but now that 
  she knew his real age, that seemed so unimportant. The fact that he was so 
  incredibly ancient only made her trust in him more. He had done it all, lived 
  a thousand lifetimes. Only he could protect her and love her, like no one 
  else. She leaned forward until her lips were almost touching his. 
  "May I, Master?" she asked hesitantly. 
  "Yes, slave." He smiled indulgently. He knew that deep inside she still held a 
  rebellious spirit. This lesson would have to be repeated often. He felt hard 
  again at the thought. Still, at the moment, she was wonderfully compliant, a 
  true submissive, a perfect bottom for his top. He let her kiss him, let her 
  tongue twine with his. He permitted it when she sheathed him in her hot pussy 
  and began a slow, steady rhythm as she rode him. Her back arched, she ground 
  into him like the slut that she was, the hot, virgin slut he had brought 
  across, for this was her true nature. Although he had been fucked twice 
  already, he was so hard it hurt. He raised his hips to meet her thrusts, 
  mindless of the waves of water they splashed over the edge of the tub. 
  "Please, Master," Tracy asked, awkwardly around her fangs. "May I bite you?" 
  "Yes, my slave," he rasped, baring his throat for her assault as he rammed his 
  dick inside her again. 
  Tracy lunged, burying her fangs into his throat. Her pussy spasmed 
  immediately, tightening around him, as she shuddered over and over. She drank 
  his blood, tasted the heights of his desire, and she came a second time, 
  shuddering again. His hands clutched her ass as he ground deeper into her. The 
  sudden reminder of pain exploded and she came a third time, each wave of 
  ecstasy riding on the one before. Finally LaCroix sank his fangs in her tender 
  throat and sucked fiercely. The blood circle was completed, and she rose to a 
  higher level of desire, riding the torrent of sensation as she tightened her 
  pussy and milked him for every drop. She lifted slightly off from him and 
  slammed down again, rubbing her swollen cunt along his firm hard stomach. She 
  saw through his blood, how she had looked as he whipped her pale skin. She saw 
  the red welts raised by the leather lash. She saw herself, bent over at the 
  foot of the bed as he laid the polished wooden paddle soundly across her 
  reddened ass. She saw him kiss her ass and slap her again. The memory of that 
  pain was every bit as sharp as the actual deed, and in a final, devastating 
  explosion of agony and ecstasy, they both came again. 
  Tracy collapsed, leaning her head against his shoulder, so wide and strong. 
  LaCroix clasped his arms around her and held her, secure and safe, while she 
  slept. Perhaps he would allow her to have nothing to feed, except for him, for 
  the rest of the summer. The thought of training a new fledgling had seemed 
  daunting and unpleasant when he first considered it ten months ago, but now he 
  sighed with deep satisfaction. She made him feel young again, and incredibly 
  strong. Already he was growing hard for her. He would hold back this time. She 
  was truly spent. He would let her rest awhile. Besides, he could use the time 
  to orchestrate the next scene. This one had been a great success! Suddenly, 
  six weeks with her did not seem long enough. 
  The End 
Thank you for reading. Many thanks to my beta readers, Laurie of the Isles and 
Knightraven. You two are the best! 
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