The client list an eroti.., p.1
The Client List: An Erotic Vampire Story, page 1
The Client List
An EroticVampire Story
by Alice J. Woods
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form
or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Copyright © 2013 by Alchemy House Press
Roxanne sat at the end of bar at the Plaza, a seedy bar in a crappy section of town, bored and restless at the same time, idly stirring her drink with the little play sword that once impaled a cherry. The cherry was long gone, the drink now tepid and watery. But she was too cheap—too broke actually—to order another. She’d have to wait for her next client and then wait for the credits from the service to show up in her account before she could order another drink, and maybe a sandwich. Maybe her next client would buy her something; some of them were at least courteous enough to get her an orange juice or water. Most were just hit and run clients though: wham, fang, thank you ma’am.
Roxanne sighed; it was a slow night. It had been a slow week. The moon phase was somewhere past full and not yet to the new moon. Maybe that had something to do with it. She didn’t really believe vampire feeding schedules were influenced by the moon, she kind of thought that was just myth and rumor, or applied only to werewolves. And those were definitely not on her client list.
She checked her device again; still no client orders. Maybe there was a problem with the cloud or something.
“Hey, Joe. Is there a problem getting service here?” The bartender looked at her, a bemused look on his face.
“Roxie, you’ve asked me that six times in the last hour. You know the cloud never goes down anymore. Just face it; it’s a slow night for your kind of client.” Roxanne sighed again, watching the sword making slow circles in her drink. Her stomach growled and she shifted on the barstool.
Her device suddenly chirped to life, startling her. She fumbled at the display, swiping the face, looking for the details. Oh, this was good. The app showed it was a single male, looking for a special package, details not specified, but including a feeding and sex. Roxanne felt her heart skip a beat.
The app the vamps had preselected packages for them to choose: F was just a feeding. Those usually lasted less than 10 minutes and even though she could get a fair amount of credits from those, they were supposed to limit them to just four a night. They were required by the service to have a blood draw once a week to check for anemia and if they tested low, they’d be taken out of service until the level came back to normal. She’d managed to sneak in six one night, but it had left her drained and exhausted and she’d barely passed her weekly check.
A code of F/S was a feeding along with sex. The sex was always for the vamps’ pleasure and not hers, but the credits for that were four times those of just a feeding. Since almost all vampires, male or female, were so very erotic and sensual, Roxanne usually managed to get off with them anyway. There was just something about getting fucked while being bitten that sent her over the edge every time. But some of those were fast, nasty fucks, standing in an alley with her back against a rough wall, her body nothing more than a plaything for the vamp as he—or she—took their pleasure, pounding into her body with cock or tongue or fingers, fucking her hard and fast, biting and sucking her flesh, leaving her in a heap on the dirty sidewalk. Just like some of her human johns had treated her, including the biting.
Anything marked special was the jackpot because they had to pay credits by the hour, along with the fee for the individual services, and those credits could really add up, if she could play out the time. It could mean a vamp with a fetish, such as biting toes or nipples or earlobes, which could be a bit more painful, but just as erotic as a neck bite. It took much longer to suck a feeding from a toe bite than it did from a neck vein.
For some reason, female vampires seemed to like to bite and nibble on sex parts, both male and female, taking their feedings from guys by basically giving them an endless blow job. She’d talked once to Dane, a male escort, who said he’d gladly take a female vamp with that kind of fetish any day. One client had left him drained, in more ways than one. It had taken him days to recover but he had 10,000 more credits in his account than before he’d met her.
Some of the vamps liked to use needles to take blood, squirting it into a glass and then drinking it. Those were tricky; girls were told to make sure the vamps used prepackaged, sterile needles—or to carry their own—to avoid disease. The specials list was pretty much endless, with just as many fantasies and fetishes—probably more—among vamps as there were among mortals. In that way, vamps and mortals were pretty much the same.
Roxanne scanned the order details. She was to be ready in 10 minutes, waiting outside the bar. The service must have given the vamp her GPS coordinates. She would be picked up in a limo and was now booked as out of service for 24 hours. Holy shit, no one’s ever booked anyone for 24 hours straight.
Roxanne hesitated. She had the opportunity to decline the deal; there was always an option to decline. But she knew only one escort who’d declined an order; she was no longer with the service. But 24 hours was a long time. But 24 hours also meant a hell of a lot of credits. She hit the accept button and went to freshen up.
When Roxanne stepped out of the bar a gleaming black limo was just pulling up to the curb. A driver stepped out, walked around and held the door for her. She wished she’d been a little more dressed up for the occasion. Her normal clients didn’t really notice what she was wearing as long as it was low cut and had easy access; low necks and short skirts. But in her black camisole, leather jacket and short black shirt, with thigh-high black stiletto-heeled boots, she felt more like the cheap hooker she used to be than someone who’d been booked for a 24 hour gig by a vamp riding in a limo. But there wasn’t much she could do; maybe she’d spend the whole 24 naked and the client wouldn’t care.
The interior of the limo was pretty dark. The driver opened the door and she slid inside. She could make out a figure on the seat across from her, someone tall by her guess, dressed in black. She sat perched on the edge of her seat, muscles tense, even though there was nowhere to go if she’d wanted to run. The limo pulled smoothly away from the curb and was gliding silently along the street. As if sensing her nervousness, the man touched a button and low lights flickered on in the limo. Roxanne looked around, trying to keep her expression under control but not succeeding. The interior was opulent; the seats were soft leather, the side panels looked like real wood. The man across from her was watching her from the shadows of his seat. She assumed this was her client and she should introduce herself. She tugged at her skirt, trying to cover her legs, desperately trying to give the impression she was worth the money and not just the cheap whore she felt like.
She held out her hand. “I’m Roxanne.” The man watched her briefly, then leaned forward, moving from the shadows into the soft light. Roxanne drew in a breath; he was stunningly beautiful. All male vamps were handsome and all females beautiful, but this vampire was beyond anything she’d ever seen. She offered up a quick prayer. Holy Whoever is on duty today, please let this be my client.
The man offered his hand to Roxanne. “I am Carlo. I’m pleased to meet you.” His long cool fingers caressed her palm, sending a small shiver up her arm. As Carlo sat back, she saw his eyes briefly glow red. Roxanne was slowly recovering the powers of speech. Service policy said she was to get the details straight up front—and any extras paid for—and then let the client have what they agreed to. And with a feed or feed/sex, that was usually clear cut and out of the way pretty quickly. But she was unsure how to proceed with such an open-ended request.
“I’m...we’re...I’m supposed to, with you...before....” Roxanne closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve never had anyone ask for a service request like this; 24 hours is a long time. I guess I should ask you what your wishes are and we can go from there.” Most vamps these days had gotten past throwing tantrums when questioned on their requests, but a few throwbacks still popped up, causing mayhem and the occasional dead worker. It had been a long time since that had happened, but the story of Estelle’s dismembered body still floated around, passed on to newbie workers as a cautionary tale of how not to deal with a potentially volatile client.
“I apologize for the unusual request. I am not a conventional individual.” That’s an understatement, Roxanne thought. The vamp...Carlo...continued, in a cold, remote voice.
“What I am looking for is 24 hours with a beautiful mortal. I have large appetites. I intend to bite, feed, have sex with you, and to repeat this process, with some variation of the order, as many times as it takes for me to be satisfied. I believe your service has a limit on the number of times I may feed from you. I will respect that limit, but as for sex....as far as I know your service has no limit on the number of times you can have sex, so there are no limits. As for the rest, we’ll have to be flexible, won’t we?”
Roxanne blinked in the dim light of the limo. This was far beyond anything she’d ever been asked for. A tiny voice said run, but a much louder, and far more excited voice said maybe she’d found the Holy Grail of clients. Almost every worker secretly hoped to find a long-term client that would take them out of permanent rotation, set them up as a kept mortal and see to their needs for the rest of their life, even if it meant the occasional feeding. Roxanne knew two women and one guy who’d gotten into arrangements like that. Last she heard,
“Is there a problem, Roxanne? I can enter your mind and read your thoughts, but I’d rather we keep open communication.”
Roxanne swallowed hard. “No, no problems. This is just beyond anything I’ve ever been hired to do…” Try sounding professional, Rox...stop thinking like a back-alley hooker. She cleared her throat. “I believe I’ll be able to fully satisfy your needs. The Service and I appreciate your business.”
The limo glided to a stop. Carlo waited for the driver to open their door. He exited the limo gracefully and then reached back to offer his hand to Roxanne. She hesitated only briefly, taking his hand and stepping out of the limo. She could feel Carlo looking her over, his eyes running hungrily over her body. He pulled her to him as the limo drove way, holding her by the waist as they walked into the lobby of an elegant apartment building.
She knew the building, it was the Sancerre, and was a known haven for affluent vamps and a few humans who managed to co-exist with them. If Roxanne could live at the Sancerre, she didn’t think she’d care who her neighbors were, but some mortals were still creeped out by the thought of having a blood-sucker as a neighbor.
Carlo led her toward the elevator, keying in a code Roxanne assumed was for one of the exclusive vampire-only floors. As they waited he placed his hand on the small of her back, idly trailing his hand down to her ass. He cupped one cheek, slowly massaging her, bunching up the edge of her skirt. She could feel his fingers brush against the skin of her inner thigh, probing gently against the crotch of her panties.
The elevator arrived and Carlo slid his hand up her back, guiding her into the elevator. The doors closed silently behind them.
Before the elevator had even started moving, Carlo had her pinned to the elevator wall, his hands seemingly everywhere on her body. She felt a hand on her breast while one was sliding up the inside of her thigh, his mouth crushing her lips. The sensations those hands and mouth caused though were amazing.
He was kissing and licking her neck and for a moment, she thought he was going to feed on her in the elevator. Roxanne gasped as she felt his hard sharp fangs brush against her neck. This guy wastes no time. Carlo lifted his head, looking into her eyes.
“Forgive my haste at starting our time together, Roxanne. You are an incredibly beautiful young woman and it is almost impossible to resist you. But, you are also on the clock now and mine.”
The elevator pinged softly and the door opened. Carlo pulled her from the elevator. Roxanne was expecting a hallway with doors, but they were in the foyer of an apartment, with room after room going off in all directions.
“Welcome to my home, Roxanne. I want you to treat this as your home for the next 24 hours. You will find everything you need here; the kitchen is stocked with food, there are clothes in the closets and there is a private bathroom at your disposal. I ask only that you do not enter my room, the last door at the end of the hall. It is my sanctum, where I take my rest, and I do not like the energy of that room disturbed by strangers.”
“Is this whole apartment yours?” Roxanne cringed as soon as she said the words. Smooth, Rox, you sound like a newbie. “I mean...this is nice.”
Carlo frowned. “Yes, it is ‘nice’ I suppose, although I really don’t pay much attention to my surroundings.” He looked around as if seeing it for the first time. “There are rooms here I don’t think I’ve entered in decades. My staff has spent more time in some of them than me. Let me take your jacket.” Roxanne shrugged out of her jacket, handing it and her purse to Carlo, and they disappeared into a closet.
You’re here on business, girl, get a move on. Roxanne could feel Carlo’s eyes traveling over her body. She moved toward him, brushing her body against his. Carlo wrapped his arms around her, pulling her hard against his body, his hands traveling up to caress her hair, to run over the thin material of her camisole, reaching down and cupping her ass in his hands, spreading her and working his fingers up her skirt. She could feel his breath against her neck. Suddenly she felt his fangs brushing her skin; she knew the routine and tilted her head to the side at the right angle.
Roxanne gasped as Carlo’s fangs pierced the tender skin just below her jaw. She’d been bitten more times than she could count, but this was different. She felt a barely restrained animal power in Carlo, a hit of danger, all overlaid by his sensual intensity. Roxanne was almost overwhelmed by what she felt; if this was what a simple feeding with this vamp was like, what would it be like to spend 24 hours with this guy?
The room grew fuzzy as Carlo fed. He held her body to his, fangs buried in her neck, as he drank her blood. Roxanne felt the familiar sensations of having her blood drained: the lightheadedness combined with exhilaration, the stomach-dropping feeling, like the first descent on a roller coaster. Fear and arousal swirled through her in a heady mixture.
She sagged against Carlo as he lifted his head from her neck. From a distance, she heard his rasping breath in her ear, felt the cool air hit her wet neck, sensed his hands holding her firmly. Then he was carrying her, gently laying her down on a soft surface—and then he was gone. She drifted for a moment until she felt Carlo gently shaking her.
Roxanne opened her eyes, disoriented and groggy. Carlo was looking at her with a frown, holding out a glass of orange juice.
“Here, drink. You’re weak.” He helped her sit up, holding the juice to her lips. She drank greedily, the cool acidic juice cutting through her haze. She’d never passed out at a feeding before and she was embarrassed. And afraid her 24 hour contract would be up before it even started.
“I’m fine...” she took the glass with shaky hands. “Really, I got this.” Carlo sat back, letting her finish the juice.
“You should have told me you were hungry. You could have eaten before I fed.” Carlo was watching her closely, as if weighing a decision.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t have a chance to eat before...after...since your order came through.” The excuse was lame and she knew it.
Carlo was looking at her and she felt judged...and found lacking. She expected his next words to be hit the road. But instead he stood, holding out his hand.
“Come. You can make yourself something to eat. I apologize for not giving you time to prepare.” Roxanne looked up, astonished. No vamp ever apologized to a mortal, for anything. She took his hand and he led her to an opulent kitchen.
“Please, help yourself to whatever you want.” He waved his hand around the room and then sat at the counter, watching intently as Roxanne looked through the refrigerator and cabinets. The amount and quality of food was amazing for someone who didn’t eat. Roxanne found thinly sliced marinated roast beef, a Vidalia onion and a loaf of deep dark pumpernickel. She sliced the bread, spread a layer of spicy horseradish, added a thin slice of sweet onion and then several slices of roast beef. She bit into it hungrily and it was gone in seconds.
After she finished the sandwich, Carlo straightened.
“Do you feel better? Are you ready to continue?” Roxanne stared. He asked me if was ready? Is this vamp for real?
“Yes, I feel better. I’d like to brush my teeth...the onions, you know?” Carlo nodded toward a door in the hall.
“You’ll find everything you need in there.”
Roxanne took a quick look around the bathroom—really wanting to snoop through all the luxurious bath products she saw—found what she needed and quickly brushed her teeth. She checked her makeup, adjusted her skirt and camisole and gave her hair a swipe with a comb she found in a drawer.
Carlo was standing in the living room, looking down on the city spread below. He turned as she entered. Again, she felt his eyes moving from her throat down to her breasts, lingering there, and then traveling over her skirt and down her legs. When his eyes finally met hers, they were glowing that deep red she knew meant either he needed to eat or fuck. Given he’d just fed, she suspected the fucking would begin.
