The Cotton Cloud Inn
Copyright 2013 Jade Blackmore
First chapter of erotic vampire novella.
He slipped on fringed suede jacket over his workshirt for appearance sake. The jacket reminded him of his high school girlfriend back in Texarkana, and he still liked to look good in case any decent human females found their way into the Cotton Cloud Inn.
Michael stretched his long legs and set his feet up on the counter. The hours droned by, and he listened to the radio and sketched the trees and the barns of his hometown. Being a desk clerk at this isolated motel suited him just fine for the time being. All the hipsters driving through the desert to one festival or another sustained him. The last motel before the three hour ride to the Perkele Fest, boho drifters of all ages kept the Cotton Cloud in business. Their eyes lit up when they saw him – after all, he had retained his tall, spindly human good looks, neatly groomed beard and dark eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” A young woman, with her back to the motel’s glass doors, yelled at someone driving away in a compact car. She kicked a large suitcase and peered into the lobby.
He buzzed her in.
“It’s my boyfriend. He acts like a moron sometimes.” She kicked her heavy suitcase into the lobby.
“Sorry to hear that.” Michael rustled in his chair to get a closer look at the girl.
She had firm, round breasts underneath stretchy shirt and khaki shorts. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulder, and she had painted toenails peeking out from espadrille sandals festooned with little flowers. The last woman he had a few days little too white trash for him. It wasn’t just her looks - the blood didn’t satisfy him, either but it kept him alive. Call it the Undead equivalent of a human eating out of a garbage can. When his hunger struck, he had no choice.
“Umm, are you the desk clerk.” The girl asked.
“I’m sitting at the desk, ain’t I?”
“Oh, sorry, you don’t look like a desk clerk.”
“I’d.. we’d like a room for the night…”
“Fine. We’re cash only, no credit or debit.”
“Oh, OK,” she zipped open her purse. “That $55 with tax.”
“Yeah. “She handed him the money.
“You’re in room 113. Down the hall to your left.”
“OK. Don’t I need to give you my name or something?”
“The money’s enough,” Michael said.
“How can you see anything in here? It’s so dark?”
“I can see just fine,” he said, “Better than you I reckon” He walked out from behind the desk..
“I’ll help you with your bags.” He could sense her staring at his ass as he bent down to pick up her suitcases.
She walked beside him down the hall, silently looking him over.
“A button fell off your shirt. Here let me sew that back on for you,”
He opened the door to Room 113. “Now that ain’t necessary, m’am,”
“No, really it’ll take just a minute. I always bring a sewing kit with me.”
“I need to watch the desk,”
“If Peter comes back, he can wait,”
Amused by her insolence, he took his shirt off. “Yeah, sure. “
She gazed at his bare chest. “Nice.”
He snorted. His ridiculing stare made her shudder.
“No, no, I mean your pendant. It’s…” She fumbled for a word .”interesting.”
Michael held up the reyclan stone pendant by its leather strap. “It’s a family heirloom. It belonged to my great-grandfather,”
“Oh, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a stone like that before. It’s so sparkly.”
She reached out to touch it.
“No, “He pushed her hand away. “It’s really delicate.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She sat down on the writing desk and turned on the lamp. “This will only take a minute. “ She grabbed a needle and thread from a tiny cloth case.
He started at her as she sewed. He knew damn well she didn’t care about a popped button. It was just a convenient excuse him into bed. Human women were so predictable sometimes – he missed them.
“Wait, I’ll be done in a jiffy –
“Oow, damn, “She dropped the bloody needle and it fell on the carpet. “I pricked myself...”
She fumbled in her purse. “I thought I had some Kleenex in here.” Blood seeped down her finger onto the desk.
Michael slipped his hand around her wrist.
“Here, let me kiss that and make it better.” He took her bloody finger in his mouth, staring at her as he sucked.
She groaned Just a half-second and he could have snapped her finger and gone up for the jugular without her noticing, but he wanted her to longer a bit before turning.. He’d have a little bit of fun with this one
**
The man at the front door wore jeans and some kind of hippie tunic. Light brown hair fell halfway down his neck, and the slight stubble on his chin contrasted with his fair skin and doe eyes. A strange combination of feminine and masculine, he had an otherworldly aura the female lacked.
He walked up to the door and opened it himself.
“You must be Peter,”
“Yeah. I’m sure Gina told you all about me.”
Michael drunk in the man’s aura. This one would be pliable, easy.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Michael touched the man’s shoulder. “Your friend already paid for it.”
“Thanks, man. You know where I can get some weed around here? “
“Oh, I’m sure I could find some for you. I might even have some stashed away in one of the rooms. ” Peter followed Michael into kitchenette suite off the reception desk.
“Oh, man, after all day in the car with her I really need to mellow out,”
‘I can help you with that,” Michael opened one of the dresser drawers. When the man walked toward the bed, Michael struck
His lips grazed Peter’s cheek. “You deserve a lot better than that wench.”
“Oh, sorry, man, I’m not into that,”
He slid his mouth away from the man’s lips.
“Thanks, you were beginning to freak me out.”
Michael moved back a few inches, then attacked, sinking his teeth into the man’s warm, welcoming jugular. The lifeforce filled his mouth. The man let out a sharp “No,” that faded into an orgasmic moan as Michael drank.
Michael slipped his hand over the man’s crotch. Sure enough, he had an erection bursting out of his tight jeans. Such a shame to waste that, but when the need to drink consumed him, nothing else mattered. He finished up, wiping fresh blood from his beard with the man’s t-shirt. He tossed the body on the bed. The man’s life - or re-animation - was now in his hands. This one, he figured, would be a good servant and a docile lover when the time was right. Besides, burning him wouldn’t be fair to the girl and Michael had taken a liking to her.
**
Unable to sleep, Gina walked down to the lobby, wearing one of Peter’s T-shirts. “Where’s the other desk clerk?”
“He only works til around 4 in the morning”…the grey haired prune of a man behind the desk answered between chews of tobacco. “He gets in around 8-8:30.. :You staying another day?.”
“Yes, we’re staying one more day.”
“55 cash.,”
She sighed. “I’ll go get my purse,”
“Don’t worry about it now,” the man said. “You can pay the night clerk.”
“Did you see my boyfriend? He’s blond, about 5’ 9”, brown eyes. He went out for a drive and said he’d be back in a few hours. He left me a note.”
“Uh,huh, “ The old man leafed, disinterested, through a porno mag. “Didn’t see him.”
“But what if he doesn’t come back!!” Gina yelled. “I’ll have to file a missing person’s report. What if he’s hurt! What if he’s…”
“Has he been gone 24 hours?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t do that. Haveta wait a full day. “
Gina stomped back to their room and reread the note Peter had left. “Went for a drive to clear my mind. Be back in a few hours. P.” She stared at the piece of notebook paper so long she felt dizzy and spots floated in front of her eyes. Exasperated from a long night of arguing, she cried a little – just a few cursory tears – and then fell asleep.
**
The manager’s office doubled as a dark respite from the evils of sunlight. It had one small window covered with a thick black tapestry, and Michael had locked and bolted the door. He sat next to the bed, watching over Peter.
"Why is my skin so cold? Peter rubbed his arms. “It feels like crushed ice is rushing through my veins.” His voice, barely a whisper, had turned deep, a husky baritone. The transformation had made his mind too weak to question what had happened to him, and the churning coolness inside his body further distracted him.
“You’ll get used to it,” Michael assured him. He brushed his hand over the shivering blond’s bare chest. “At dawn, you will sleep, and when you wake up, the transformation will be over. I will stay here with you while you sleep and keep you safe from that friend of yours.”
Peter managed a weak laugh. “She..is all right?”
“For the time being,” Michael said. He’d deal with the girl later. He heard her padding back and forth in the lobby, muttering over the fake note he’d left for her.
The night of the full moon couldn’t arrive too soon. One night a month he suffered the curse of being mortal again. But he made the most of it by indulging in the one human activity he missed – fucking.
This specimen, pliable, delicate, and beautiful-had all the qualities the obstinate female did not. Despite his last protestation as a human – this man, Peter - would minister to all of Michael’s needs, both as an Undead companion and a temporary human lover. Michael’s powers allowed him to read the emotional blueprint of all his victims. It came to him in a hurried jumble of visions, and yet it helped him identify, in an instant, who could serve him and who would sate his blood hunger and then conveniently disappear.
Michael couldn’t take it any longer. The girl’s histrionic cries and cursing over Peter’s supposed indiscretion were no longer funny, and even the motel’s lone human guest – a salesman from Abilene – screamed at her from his room to “Shut the Fuck Up.”
Michael called the front desk and told the day clerk to send the loud girl in the lobby to the manager’s office.
“She’s all yours,” he answered. “I was a minute away from throwing her ass out.”
Gina's sandals click-clacked down the hall. She banged on the door. “What the hell is going on? Peter? Are you in there?”
“I know a good way to stop all that screaming permanently,” Michael kissed Peter on the top of his head. “And I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Are you-“ Peter started.
“Just watch me. Don’t say anything,” Michael answered the door.
“Where is he? Where is he?” Gina pounded on Michael’s chest. “Is he in here?”
“Don’t you ever both to say hello? Now where are you manners?’
“Shut up! Where is he? I’m taking him and we’re getting the hell out of here,” She stood on her tip toes and peered over his shoulders.
“Peter, baby, what’s going on?”
Michael sighed, moving out of the doorway to let her run toward her lover.
She sat on the bed, running her hands down his chest. “Oh, baby, you should have stayed with me…I told you to stay with…” her voice cracked. “Why is your skin so cold?. It’s like ice!!”
She turned to Michael, once again pumping her fists furiously on his chest. “What did you do to him? Give some weird kinda Ecstasy…some Rophies or something?”
Peter smirked at her, his gaze languishing on her exposed breasts. After all her violent pounding and thrashing, the flimsy top had slipped beneath her breasts.
The energy drained from her body, her fists now stilled on Michael’s chest. “What are you a bodybuilder..you’ve got a chest like fuckin’ steel.”
“Oh, she’s a bright one,” Michael turned to Peter and they both smiled.
He took his shirt off and tossed it on he back of his chair. “No, little lady, it ain’t steel. It’s flesh and blood. I’ll prove it to you.”
He curled his hand into a fist and dragged the jagged metal ring down his chest, right below his nipple. Blood spurted from the incision.
“You’re fucking crazy, “ she backed away, unable to look at him. She turned to Peter, now sitting up in bed. He stared at Michael’s chest and licked his lips.”
“Here, drink. Drink it, my whore.” Michael pulled her against his chest. Her muffled cries soon turned to moans as she parted her lips and placed them over the incision to suck.
“There, there, now, that tastes good, hmm,” He put his hands under her jaw and slowly pushed her away. “Now don’t get greedy.”
She backed away and fell on the bed next to Peter, fainting in his arms.
.
“She’ll wake up in about ten minutes. I guess all the excitement got to her, hmm?”
“Will she be like us now?” Peter asked. He stroked her hair.
“Not exactly. She is half-human, half-blood slave now. As long as she gets a taste from me,” He flicked one of his fingers over the incision in his chest, “once in awhile, she will remain so. Without it she will die a mortal death,” He leaned over and whispered in Peter’s ear. “A very painful mortal death.”
Peter’s moody brown eyes grew wider. “I don’t want her to die. I’m…used to her. I can’t imagine what it would be like without her.”
Michael ran his finger through Peter’s sandy blond hair and placed a few strands behind one of his elfin ears. “Don’t worry. She will always come to me for sustenance. I am her master now,” He nibbled on Peter’s earlobe. “She can do your bidding through me until you find your own thrall.”
Michael sat back down in the chair “We can use her to find us fresh blood. You’ll need to drink first, to gain strength. And I know just where we can – where she can – find your first victim. You will need to drink fully at first. So we must find suitable prey .The body must be good enough for you to feast on – and easy to dispose of when you are sated.”
Gina staggered into the building in a strip mall next to the motel. All the stores in the mall had open signs in he window and a faint candlelit glow from within. The mall had a market, a liquor store, an old-fashioned five and dime store, a diner and an unmarked metal door at the end. A lone car rested in the lot. No customers entered or exited any of the stores
The metal door, covered with chipped black paint, looked like the entrance to a dungeon. She followed Michael and Peter into the building,
A loud whoosh of electronic music overwhelmed her. Some girls danced on a harshly lit stage in the middle of the room. A haze of cigarette and pot smoke substituted for air.
Gina felt drunk, woozy, like shed just downed a six pack of beer and a tab of acid. Blood sloshed through her veins she steadied herself on the edge of a table, Sawdust poked up from the floor, tickling the bare toes that peeked out from her sandals.
In the back booth, a platinum haired she-male nursed a drink. With her teased, snow-white hair, turquoise eyeshadow and two-tiered false eyelashes, she lit up the wood-paneled, red vinyl bar. . The she-male smiled as Peter walked past. “Well, hello, Blondie,” came the baritone voice through click-clack of the ice in her/his glass.
Oh, such she-male attention for his first night out as a vampire. Not that drag queens hadn’t eyed him before. Peter’s perfect blond hair straight out of shampoo commercial and a few times embarrassed guys had mistaken him for a woman. Peter’s tight, shapely buns made him an easy mark for male and female admirers alike
Michael steered Peter away from the she-male’s glare.
Gina sat down at an empty table and picked sawdust out from between her toes.
“You looking for a job, honey?” A woman with stringy black hair carrying a tray walked up to her. The woman had a weird pointy boob job underneath her T-shirt. “No, but you can get me a beer.”
The music changed, and a Nine Inch Nails song thumped through the room. Two dancers worked stripper poles on a twisty stage shaped like the number 8. A thin bottle redhead unnaturally carrot orange shade of hair, rolled languidly around the pole, lolling head around like a seizure victim.
The other dancer, a naked, tattooed Goth girl, did pseudo yoga moves on a cheap knock off Navajo rug.
“What is this place?” Gina coughed “Oh, God, they can still smoke indoors here?”
“They can still do a lot of things forbidden things here,” Michael pulled up a chair sat next to her. Peter stood next to them, transfixed by something in front of him.
Michael turned to Gina.“Do you see those two men sitting at the table by the front of the stage?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think?”
“I like the short one,”Peter answered instead. His soft lips curled into a smile. As if on air, he walked towards the man, who was smoking a funny cigarette.
“Hi man! Want some?”
“Sure,” Peter put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s go outside. It’s too smoky in here already.”
They walked through the to the exit.
Michael smiled with the pride of a father looking at his son on his first date.
Peter stopped at the table while the man walked on.
“Drink fully.” Michael whispered. “The first feed is the most important.”
He squeezed Peter’s hand. “Come back inside when you are done. I will take care of the aftermath for you.”
Aftermath. What a quaint word for corpse. Too bad. The short brunette man looked so trusting and jovial.
“Better hurry up before it’s all gone,” the man called out to Peter
**
“You’re jealous!” Gina tugged at the sleeve of Michael’s denim shirt. “You just gave that guy a dirty look.”
“Why would I be jealous of a short English guy. I’ve got a whole room of strippers to feed on and a beautiful thrall,”
“You’re still jealous. I saw the look you gave him,”
“I like his scrawny friend up there better anyway,” Gina said. The man threw back a shot of whiskey without missing a drop without taking his gaze off the dancers.
‘’Then who do I get?”
“You can have the waitress. How about that?”
“Anna Lisa? That bitch has seen more hard road than a pickup truck
“She’s a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. She’s worked here forever. She hires the girls and gives me a preview of what new blood has come in this week. There’s quite a high turnover
“Oh, is that because quit or they encounter some bloodsucking cowboy?”
“You might say it’s a little of both.”
Gina stood on her tip toes and only reached his chest. “Do you want me to dance for you?’
“Not just for me. I think your newfound friend will be more interested,” Michael lifted up her tank top, freeing her tits. Already excited by the Peter and Michael’s unobtainable chiseled coldness, her nipples stood at attention, like bullets attached to her chest. Michael tweaked one.
“Go on. Dance.”
**
Gina had danced nude for Peter plenty of times – and then there was the porno bit-part in college, but she’d never worked as a stripper. Webcam girl was more her style. At least then she wouldn’t have to see the perverts or let them touch her when they slipped money in her g-string.
She slipped out of her shorts and thong and threw them at Michael. They missed him and landed on the lap of the man sitting next to him. The man smiled at her, his eyes turning big as quarters when he saw her huge tits.
Michael sat down next to the man. Scrawny in a bohemian way, had a head of tousled brown curls, so unkempt it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He didn’t stir when Michael sat down. His attention darted from one dancer to another, but the mischievous smile on his face stayed constant.
“I’ve never seen you here before,”
“My friend and I are in our way to Las Vegas. Took the long way around.”
“What do you think of that one over there?” Mike pointed to Claire.
“Not my type. Cute, but too flat chested. Like the red hair, though.”
“What about this one here?”Michael nodded at Gina, twirling around the pole.
“She’s more my type. Big tits, big eyes, tight little body…” He stared at Gina, equaling her lascivious gaze.
“C’mon. Come up on stage,” Gina wagged her finger at him. “I wanna do something to you. What’s your name?”
“Craig,” He climbed up on the stage, so excited he stubbed his toe as he lifted himself up.
“You’d think he’d never seen a naked woman before,” Michael muttered.
“Oh, he’s seen and done hundreds of ‘em, “The Englishman said. He and Peter had returned from their clandestine pot-smoking and they stood behind Michael’s table.
“This is Hank,” Peter pulled up a chair and sat next to Mike.
“Nice to meet you,” Hank sat in the chair Craig had vacated. “Now what’s going on ‘ere? “ He looked at Craig and Gina cavorting on the stage.
“Throw me that top,” Gina pointed to the tank top Michael had torn off her. Peter picked it up off the empty table behind them and threw it at her. It hit her in the face with the force of a fastpitch softball.
“Oww! Damn,” The top fell into her hands. She sneered at Peter, but he had already turned his back on her.
“Well, Craig, take your clothes off and kneel down in front of that pole,” Gina commanded all the anger and confusion over the day’s events simmering into lust for this scrawny, wavy-haired stranger.
Craig obeyed. Without a second thought, he took off his Triumph T-shirt, tennis shoes and jeans and his tighty-whiteys.
“Now lift up you arms and put them on either side of that pole.”
“Yes, mistress,”
Gina ripped her cheap tank top into strips and tied him to the pole. The tighter she secured his wrists to the pole, the harder his cock grew. . His skinny wrists radiated with nervous energy – scrawny as he was, she thought he might break through them and ravish her.
She stepped back to admire him. Dark brown curls trailed down his skinny chest, past his belly button. He exuded sex in a fun, overeager way - the opposite of Michael’s smoldering indifference.
She knelt between his legs and sucked him
**
“C’mon, Hank, let’s sit in a booth,”
“Yeah, we don’t wanna see Craig fucking up close. That’s a sight to make your eyes bleed,”
Michael winked at Peter when Hank said the word bleed. “Be quick with him. I need you to come back here.”
Peter remained silent and followed Hank to the booth in the back of the club.
**
Funny how quickly Peter had been drawn to the runt of an Englishman. He looked to be around 5’3”, even shorter than Gina. He did have a prettier face, though, with chipmunk-cute cheeks and bushy eyebrows framing brown eyes. Hungry as he was – and he could feel his body getting weaker- he set aside his desire to feed to protect this man. Michael looked ready to spring at any moment, and the Englishman was off-limits. Peter would make sure of that. He ordered two drinks, asking Anna Lisa for a red drink, not a Bloody Mary” Didn’t want to be too obvious. She returned with two shot glasses. “Jagermeister and cranberry juice,” she said “It’s called a Redheaded Slut. I think Claire inspired it.”
Peter admired the scrappy Englishman’s hair. It was too straight, too thick. He messed it up, “What is that, a wig?”
“Don’t mess with the hair, don’t mess with the hair,” Hank beamed with child-like radiance, cheeks full and bright with mischief.. When Peter slipped his arm around his shoulder, he pulled away with a nervous laugh.
“The cranberry juice may be too ‘eathly for me, but I’m gonna try this,” Hank knocked back half the red liquid in the shot glass, then stopped to look at the Gina fucking Craig on the stage.
“She does have a nice bum.” he said. “And I don’t mean Craig.”
Peter brought his glass to his mouth and then crushed it with a forceful tap of his fingers. He enjoyed his newfound strength. He never got to do anything but follow as a human. He brushed the jagged edge of the glass against his lips, extracting just enough blood to smear on Hank’s glass when he wasn’t looking.
Hank finished off his blood-tainted drink without noticing the extra ingredient.
“That was good. I think I’ll have another.”
**
Michael sat in the chair leaned forward, getting a good view of Gina’s round ass. Anna Lisa and Claire sat to either side of him.
“You must really be a regular here,” Claire, the newly-hired redhead, squeezed his shoulder.
“You might say that. I own the place,” Michael put his feet up on the table and watched Gina suck Craig’s cock.
Gina bent down, ass up in the air, and sucked him with a greedy fervor. Peter vacillated between being subservient and brash when they fucked, but this man was completely submissive and enjoyed it.
“Yeah, baby, that’s so fuckin’ good.
Anna Lisa grabbed a cushion from her chair and slipped it behind Craig’s back. “There, honey, just making you more comfortable.”
Craig eased back, resting his body against the cushion.
“Yeah, baby, you got beautiful tits,” he moaned, watching Gina kneel and move closer to him. She pressed her bountiful 38Cs up against his face and let him slobber all over them. Like an obscene gymnast doing a balancing act, she spread her legs and positioned herself to take in his hard, ravenous cock, a good size, enough to fill her up. She guided him in and wrapped her legs around the pole.
“Oh, you fucking whore, fuck me. Fuck me so hard,”
“This one’s a talker, hey?” Anna Lisa flicked back her hair back with her hand.
“Yes, but his voice is kinda sexy.” Claire giggled, “I like dirty talk.”
“I’m sure you do,” Michael made his way onto the stage. He knelt down next to the pole and waited for his turn.
”Yeah, you like that, you like that, you bad little slave, you been a bad little boy?” Gina ran her hands down Craig’s back, digging them in and marking his flesh. She spanked his ass.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah, “ Craig’s voice pierced through the thumping music. He flailed against the pole, the dirty orgasm sending shockwaves through his body. Gina, covered in his sweat, rubbed herself up against him one last time and collapsed onto the floor.
**
Craig screamed again, a low moan, a snuggly relaxed moan, like a secondary orgasm. Gina sat up, startled by the sound.
Michael knelt next to Craig, feasting on his neck. A drop of blood coursed down Craig’s chest, mingling with his orgasm sweat.
“You bastard, you fuckin’ bastard! I told you he was mine!” Gina grabbed Michael’s arm. With barely a twitch, he elbowed her, throwing her body to the other side of the stage. She blacked out.
_____
End of Chapter 1
First chapter of erotic vampire novella.
He slipped on fringed suede jacket over his workshirt for appearance sake. The jacket reminded him of his high school girlfriend back in Texarkana, and he still liked to look good in case any decent human females found their way into the Cotton Cloud Inn.
Michael stretched his long legs and set his feet up on the counter. The hours droned by, and he listened to the radio and sketched the trees and the barns of his hometown. Being a desk clerk at this isolated motel suited him just fine for the time being. All the hipsters driving through the desert to one festival or another sustained him. The last motel before the three hour ride to the Perkele Fest, boho drifters of all ages kept the Cotton Cloud in business. Their eyes lit up when they saw him – after all, he had retained his tall, spindly human good looks, neatly groomed beard and dark eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” A young woman, with her back to the motel’s glass doors, yelled at someone driving away in a compact car. She kicked a large suitcase and peered into the lobby.
He buzzed her in.
“It’s my boyfriend. He acts like a moron sometimes.” She kicked her heavy suitcase into the lobby.
“Sorry to hear that.” Michael rustled in his chair to get a closer look at the girl.
She had firm, round breasts underneath stretchy shirt and khaki shorts. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulder, and she had painted toenails peeking out from espadrille sandals festooned with little flowers. The last woman he had a few days little too white trash for him. It wasn’t just her looks - the blood didn’t satisfy him, either but it kept him alive. Call it the Undead equivalent of a human eating out of a garbage can. When his hunger struck, he had no choice.
“Umm, are you the desk clerk.” The girl asked.
“I’m sitting at the desk, ain’t I?”
“Oh, sorry, you don’t look like a desk clerk.”
“I’d.. we’d like a room for the night…”
“Fine. We’re cash only, no credit or debit.”
“Oh, OK,” she zipped open her purse. “That $55 with tax.”
“Yeah. “She handed him the money.
“You’re in room 113. Down the hall to your left.”
“OK. Don’t I need to give you my name or something?”
“The money’s enough,” Michael said.
“How can you see anything in here? It’s so dark?”
“I can see just fine,” he said, “Better than you I reckon” He walked out from behind the desk..
“I’ll help you with your bags.” He could sense her staring at his ass as he bent down to pick up her suitcases.
She walked beside him down the hall, silently looking him over.
“A button fell off your shirt. Here let me sew that back on for you,”
He opened the door to Room 113. “Now that ain’t necessary, m’am,”
“No, really it’ll take just a minute. I always bring a sewing kit with me.”
“I need to watch the desk,”
“If Peter comes back, he can wait,”
Amused by her insolence, he took his shirt off. “Yeah, sure. “
She gazed at his bare chest. “Nice.”
He snorted. His ridiculing stare made her shudder.
“No, no, I mean your pendant. It’s…” She fumbled for a word .”interesting.”
Michael held up the reyclan stone pendant by its leather strap. “It’s a family heirloom. It belonged to my great-grandfather,”
“Oh, it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a stone like that before. It’s so sparkly.”
She reached out to touch it.
“No, “He pushed her hand away. “It’s really delicate.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” She sat down on the writing desk and turned on the lamp. “This will only take a minute. “ She grabbed a needle and thread from a tiny cloth case.
He started at her as she sewed. He knew damn well she didn’t care about a popped button. It was just a convenient excuse him into bed. Human women were so predictable sometimes – he missed them.
“Wait, I’ll be done in a jiffy –
“Oow, damn, “She dropped the bloody needle and it fell on the carpet. “I pricked myself...”
She fumbled in her purse. “I thought I had some Kleenex in here.” Blood seeped down her finger onto the desk.
Michael slipped his hand around her wrist.
“Here, let me kiss that and make it better.” He took her bloody finger in his mouth, staring at her as he sucked.
She groaned Just a half-second and he could have snapped her finger and gone up for the jugular without her noticing, but he wanted her to longer a bit before turning.. He’d have a little bit of fun with this one
**
The man at the front door wore jeans and some kind of hippie tunic. Light brown hair fell halfway down his neck, and the slight stubble on his chin contrasted with his fair skin and doe eyes. A strange combination of feminine and masculine, he had an otherworldly aura the female lacked.
He walked up to the door and opened it himself.
“You must be Peter,”
“Yeah. I’m sure Gina told you all about me.”
Michael drunk in the man’s aura. This one would be pliable, easy.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Michael touched the man’s shoulder. “Your friend already paid for it.”
“Thanks, man. You know where I can get some weed around here? “
“Oh, I’m sure I could find some for you. I might even have some stashed away in one of the rooms. ” Peter followed Michael into kitchenette suite off the reception desk.
“Oh, man, after all day in the car with her I really need to mellow out,”
‘I can help you with that,” Michael opened one of the dresser drawers. When the man walked toward the bed, Michael struck
His lips grazed Peter’s cheek. “You deserve a lot better than that wench.”
“Oh, sorry, man, I’m not into that,”
He slid his mouth away from the man’s lips.
“Thanks, you were beginning to freak me out.”
Michael moved back a few inches, then attacked, sinking his teeth into the man’s warm, welcoming jugular. The lifeforce filled his mouth. The man let out a sharp “No,” that faded into an orgasmic moan as Michael drank.
Michael slipped his hand over the man’s crotch. Sure enough, he had an erection bursting out of his tight jeans. Such a shame to waste that, but when the need to drink consumed him, nothing else mattered. He finished up, wiping fresh blood from his beard with the man’s t-shirt. He tossed the body on the bed. The man’s life - or re-animation - was now in his hands. This one, he figured, would be a good servant and a docile lover when the time was right. Besides, burning him wouldn’t be fair to the girl and Michael had taken a liking to her.
**
Unable to sleep, Gina walked down to the lobby, wearing one of Peter’s T-shirts. “Where’s the other desk clerk?”
“He only works til around 4 in the morning”…the grey haired prune of a man behind the desk answered between chews of tobacco. “He gets in around 8-8:30.. :You staying another day?.”
“Yes, we’re staying one more day.”
“55 cash.,”
She sighed. “I’ll go get my purse,”
“Don’t worry about it now,” the man said. “You can pay the night clerk.”
“Did you see my boyfriend? He’s blond, about 5’ 9”, brown eyes. He went out for a drive and said he’d be back in a few hours. He left me a note.”
“Uh,huh, “ The old man leafed, disinterested, through a porno mag. “Didn’t see him.”
“But what if he doesn’t come back!!” Gina yelled. “I’ll have to file a missing person’s report. What if he’s hurt! What if he’s…”
“Has he been gone 24 hours?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t do that. Haveta wait a full day. “
Gina stomped back to their room and reread the note Peter had left. “Went for a drive to clear my mind. Be back in a few hours. P.” She stared at the piece of notebook paper so long she felt dizzy and spots floated in front of her eyes. Exasperated from a long night of arguing, she cried a little – just a few cursory tears – and then fell asleep.
**
The manager’s office doubled as a dark respite from the evils of sunlight. It had one small window covered with a thick black tapestry, and Michael had locked and bolted the door. He sat next to the bed, watching over Peter.
"Why is my skin so cold? Peter rubbed his arms. “It feels like crushed ice is rushing through my veins.” His voice, barely a whisper, had turned deep, a husky baritone. The transformation had made his mind too weak to question what had happened to him, and the churning coolness inside his body further distracted him.
“You’ll get used to it,” Michael assured him. He brushed his hand over the shivering blond’s bare chest. “At dawn, you will sleep, and when you wake up, the transformation will be over. I will stay here with you while you sleep and keep you safe from that friend of yours.”
Peter managed a weak laugh. “She..is all right?”
“For the time being,” Michael said. He’d deal with the girl later. He heard her padding back and forth in the lobby, muttering over the fake note he’d left for her.
The night of the full moon couldn’t arrive too soon. One night a month he suffered the curse of being mortal again. But he made the most of it by indulging in the one human activity he missed – fucking.
This specimen, pliable, delicate, and beautiful-had all the qualities the obstinate female did not. Despite his last protestation as a human – this man, Peter - would minister to all of Michael’s needs, both as an Undead companion and a temporary human lover. Michael’s powers allowed him to read the emotional blueprint of all his victims. It came to him in a hurried jumble of visions, and yet it helped him identify, in an instant, who could serve him and who would sate his blood hunger and then conveniently disappear.
Michael couldn’t take it any longer. The girl’s histrionic cries and cursing over Peter’s supposed indiscretion were no longer funny, and even the motel’s lone human guest – a salesman from Abilene – screamed at her from his room to “Shut the Fuck Up.”
Michael called the front desk and told the day clerk to send the loud girl in the lobby to the manager’s office.
“She’s all yours,” he answered. “I was a minute away from throwing her ass out.”
Gina's sandals click-clacked down the hall. She banged on the door. “What the hell is going on? Peter? Are you in there?”
“I know a good way to stop all that screaming permanently,” Michael kissed Peter on the top of his head. “And I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Are you-“ Peter started.
“Just watch me. Don’t say anything,” Michael answered the door.
“Where is he? Where is he?” Gina pounded on Michael’s chest. “Is he in here?”
“Don’t you ever both to say hello? Now where are you manners?’
“Shut up! Where is he? I’m taking him and we’re getting the hell out of here,” She stood on her tip toes and peered over his shoulders.
“Peter, baby, what’s going on?”
Michael sighed, moving out of the doorway to let her run toward her lover.
She sat on the bed, running her hands down his chest. “Oh, baby, you should have stayed with me…I told you to stay with…” her voice cracked. “Why is your skin so cold?. It’s like ice!!”
She turned to Michael, once again pumping her fists furiously on his chest. “What did you do to him? Give some weird kinda Ecstasy…some Rophies or something?”
Peter smirked at her, his gaze languishing on her exposed breasts. After all her violent pounding and thrashing, the flimsy top had slipped beneath her breasts.
The energy drained from her body, her fists now stilled on Michael’s chest. “What are you a bodybuilder..you’ve got a chest like fuckin’ steel.”
“Oh, she’s a bright one,” Michael turned to Peter and they both smiled.
He took his shirt off and tossed it on he back of his chair. “No, little lady, it ain’t steel. It’s flesh and blood. I’ll prove it to you.”
He curled his hand into a fist and dragged the jagged metal ring down his chest, right below his nipple. Blood spurted from the incision.
“You’re fucking crazy, “ she backed away, unable to look at him. She turned to Peter, now sitting up in bed. He stared at Michael’s chest and licked his lips.”
“Here, drink. Drink it, my whore.” Michael pulled her against his chest. Her muffled cries soon turned to moans as she parted her lips and placed them over the incision to suck.
“There, there, now, that tastes good, hmm,” He put his hands under her jaw and slowly pushed her away. “Now don’t get greedy.”
She backed away and fell on the bed next to Peter, fainting in his arms.
.
“She’ll wake up in about ten minutes. I guess all the excitement got to her, hmm?”
“Will she be like us now?” Peter asked. He stroked her hair.
“Not exactly. She is half-human, half-blood slave now. As long as she gets a taste from me,” He flicked one of his fingers over the incision in his chest, “once in awhile, she will remain so. Without it she will die a mortal death,” He leaned over and whispered in Peter’s ear. “A very painful mortal death.”
Peter’s moody brown eyes grew wider. “I don’t want her to die. I’m…used to her. I can’t imagine what it would be like without her.”
Michael ran his finger through Peter’s sandy blond hair and placed a few strands behind one of his elfin ears. “Don’t worry. She will always come to me for sustenance. I am her master now,” He nibbled on Peter’s earlobe. “She can do your bidding through me until you find your own thrall.”
Michael sat back down in the chair “We can use her to find us fresh blood. You’ll need to drink first, to gain strength. And I know just where we can – where she can – find your first victim. You will need to drink fully at first. So we must find suitable prey .The body must be good enough for you to feast on – and easy to dispose of when you are sated.”
Gina staggered into the building in a strip mall next to the motel. All the stores in the mall had open signs in he window and a faint candlelit glow from within. The mall had a market, a liquor store, an old-fashioned five and dime store, a diner and an unmarked metal door at the end. A lone car rested in the lot. No customers entered or exited any of the stores
The metal door, covered with chipped black paint, looked like the entrance to a dungeon. She followed Michael and Peter into the building,
A loud whoosh of electronic music overwhelmed her. Some girls danced on a harshly lit stage in the middle of the room. A haze of cigarette and pot smoke substituted for air.
Gina felt drunk, woozy, like shed just downed a six pack of beer and a tab of acid. Blood sloshed through her veins she steadied herself on the edge of a table, Sawdust poked up from the floor, tickling the bare toes that peeked out from her sandals.
In the back booth, a platinum haired she-male nursed a drink. With her teased, snow-white hair, turquoise eyeshadow and two-tiered false eyelashes, she lit up the wood-paneled, red vinyl bar. . The she-male smiled as Peter walked past. “Well, hello, Blondie,” came the baritone voice through click-clack of the ice in her/his glass.
Oh, such she-male attention for his first night out as a vampire. Not that drag queens hadn’t eyed him before. Peter’s perfect blond hair straight out of shampoo commercial and a few times embarrassed guys had mistaken him for a woman. Peter’s tight, shapely buns made him an easy mark for male and female admirers alike
Michael steered Peter away from the she-male’s glare.
Gina sat down at an empty table and picked sawdust out from between her toes.
“You looking for a job, honey?” A woman with stringy black hair carrying a tray walked up to her. The woman had a weird pointy boob job underneath her T-shirt. “No, but you can get me a beer.”
The music changed, and a Nine Inch Nails song thumped through the room. Two dancers worked stripper poles on a twisty stage shaped like the number 8. A thin bottle redhead unnaturally carrot orange shade of hair, rolled languidly around the pole, lolling head around like a seizure victim.
The other dancer, a naked, tattooed Goth girl, did pseudo yoga moves on a cheap knock off Navajo rug.
“What is this place?” Gina coughed “Oh, God, they can still smoke indoors here?”
“They can still do a lot of things forbidden things here,” Michael pulled up a chair sat next to her. Peter stood next to them, transfixed by something in front of him.
Michael turned to Gina.“Do you see those two men sitting at the table by the front of the stage?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think?”
“I like the short one,”Peter answered instead. His soft lips curled into a smile. As if on air, he walked towards the man, who was smoking a funny cigarette.
“Hi man! Want some?”
“Sure,” Peter put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s go outside. It’s too smoky in here already.”
They walked through the to the exit.
Michael smiled with the pride of a father looking at his son on his first date.
Peter stopped at the table while the man walked on.
“Drink fully.” Michael whispered. “The first feed is the most important.”
He squeezed Peter’s hand. “Come back inside when you are done. I will take care of the aftermath for you.”
Aftermath. What a quaint word for corpse. Too bad. The short brunette man looked so trusting and jovial.
“Better hurry up before it’s all gone,” the man called out to Peter
**
“You’re jealous!” Gina tugged at the sleeve of Michael’s denim shirt. “You just gave that guy a dirty look.”
“Why would I be jealous of a short English guy. I’ve got a whole room of strippers to feed on and a beautiful thrall,”
“You’re still jealous. I saw the look you gave him,”
“I like his scrawny friend up there better anyway,” Gina said. The man threw back a shot of whiskey without missing a drop without taking his gaze off the dancers.
‘’Then who do I get?”
“You can have the waitress. How about that?”
“Anna Lisa? That bitch has seen more hard road than a pickup truck
“She’s a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. She’s worked here forever. She hires the girls and gives me a preview of what new blood has come in this week. There’s quite a high turnover
“Oh, is that because quit or they encounter some bloodsucking cowboy?”
“You might say it’s a little of both.”
Gina stood on her tip toes and only reached his chest. “Do you want me to dance for you?’
“Not just for me. I think your newfound friend will be more interested,” Michael lifted up her tank top, freeing her tits. Already excited by the Peter and Michael’s unobtainable chiseled coldness, her nipples stood at attention, like bullets attached to her chest. Michael tweaked one.
“Go on. Dance.”
**
Gina had danced nude for Peter plenty of times – and then there was the porno bit-part in college, but she’d never worked as a stripper. Webcam girl was more her style. At least then she wouldn’t have to see the perverts or let them touch her when they slipped money in her g-string.
She slipped out of her shorts and thong and threw them at Michael. They missed him and landed on the lap of the man sitting next to him. The man smiled at her, his eyes turning big as quarters when he saw her huge tits.
Michael sat down next to the man. Scrawny in a bohemian way, had a head of tousled brown curls, so unkempt it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He didn’t stir when Michael sat down. His attention darted from one dancer to another, but the mischievous smile on his face stayed constant.
“I’ve never seen you here before,”
“My friend and I are in our way to Las Vegas. Took the long way around.”
“What do you think of that one over there?” Mike pointed to Claire.
“Not my type. Cute, but too flat chested. Like the red hair, though.”
“What about this one here?”Michael nodded at Gina, twirling around the pole.
“She’s more my type. Big tits, big eyes, tight little body…” He stared at Gina, equaling her lascivious gaze.
“C’mon. Come up on stage,” Gina wagged her finger at him. “I wanna do something to you. What’s your name?”
“Craig,” He climbed up on the stage, so excited he stubbed his toe as he lifted himself up.
“You’d think he’d never seen a naked woman before,” Michael muttered.
“Oh, he’s seen and done hundreds of ‘em, “The Englishman said. He and Peter had returned from their clandestine pot-smoking and they stood behind Michael’s table.
“This is Hank,” Peter pulled up a chair and sat next to Mike.
“Nice to meet you,” Hank sat in the chair Craig had vacated. “Now what’s going on ‘ere? “ He looked at Craig and Gina cavorting on the stage.
“Throw me that top,” Gina pointed to the tank top Michael had torn off her. Peter picked it up off the empty table behind them and threw it at her. It hit her in the face with the force of a fastpitch softball.
“Oww! Damn,” The top fell into her hands. She sneered at Peter, but he had already turned his back on her.
“Well, Craig, take your clothes off and kneel down in front of that pole,” Gina commanded all the anger and confusion over the day’s events simmering into lust for this scrawny, wavy-haired stranger.
Craig obeyed. Without a second thought, he took off his Triumph T-shirt, tennis shoes and jeans and his tighty-whiteys.
“Now lift up you arms and put them on either side of that pole.”
“Yes, mistress,”
Gina ripped her cheap tank top into strips and tied him to the pole. The tighter she secured his wrists to the pole, the harder his cock grew. . His skinny wrists radiated with nervous energy – scrawny as he was, she thought he might break through them and ravish her.
She stepped back to admire him. Dark brown curls trailed down his skinny chest, past his belly button. He exuded sex in a fun, overeager way - the opposite of Michael’s smoldering indifference.
She knelt between his legs and sucked him
**
“C’mon, Hank, let’s sit in a booth,”
“Yeah, we don’t wanna see Craig fucking up close. That’s a sight to make your eyes bleed,”
Michael winked at Peter when Hank said the word bleed. “Be quick with him. I need you to come back here.”
Peter remained silent and followed Hank to the booth in the back of the club.
**
Funny how quickly Peter had been drawn to the runt of an Englishman. He looked to be around 5’3”, even shorter than Gina. He did have a prettier face, though, with chipmunk-cute cheeks and bushy eyebrows framing brown eyes. Hungry as he was – and he could feel his body getting weaker- he set aside his desire to feed to protect this man. Michael looked ready to spring at any moment, and the Englishman was off-limits. Peter would make sure of that. He ordered two drinks, asking Anna Lisa for a red drink, not a Bloody Mary” Didn’t want to be too obvious. She returned with two shot glasses. “Jagermeister and cranberry juice,” she said “It’s called a Redheaded Slut. I think Claire inspired it.”
Peter admired the scrappy Englishman’s hair. It was too straight, too thick. He messed it up, “What is that, a wig?”
“Don’t mess with the hair, don’t mess with the hair,” Hank beamed with child-like radiance, cheeks full and bright with mischief.. When Peter slipped his arm around his shoulder, he pulled away with a nervous laugh.
“The cranberry juice may be too ‘eathly for me, but I’m gonna try this,” Hank knocked back half the red liquid in the shot glass, then stopped to look at the Gina fucking Craig on the stage.
“She does have a nice bum.” he said. “And I don’t mean Craig.”
Peter brought his glass to his mouth and then crushed it with a forceful tap of his fingers. He enjoyed his newfound strength. He never got to do anything but follow as a human. He brushed the jagged edge of the glass against his lips, extracting just enough blood to smear on Hank’s glass when he wasn’t looking.
Hank finished off his blood-tainted drink without noticing the extra ingredient.
“That was good. I think I’ll have another.”
**
Michael sat in the chair leaned forward, getting a good view of Gina’s round ass. Anna Lisa and Claire sat to either side of him.
“You must really be a regular here,” Claire, the newly-hired redhead, squeezed his shoulder.
“You might say that. I own the place,” Michael put his feet up on the table and watched Gina suck Craig’s cock.
Gina bent down, ass up in the air, and sucked him with a greedy fervor. Peter vacillated between being subservient and brash when they fucked, but this man was completely submissive and enjoyed it.
“Yeah, baby, that’s so fuckin’ good.
Anna Lisa grabbed a cushion from her chair and slipped it behind Craig’s back. “There, honey, just making you more comfortable.”
Craig eased back, resting his body against the cushion.
“Yeah, baby, you got beautiful tits,” he moaned, watching Gina kneel and move closer to him. She pressed her bountiful 38Cs up against his face and let him slobber all over them. Like an obscene gymnast doing a balancing act, she spread her legs and positioned herself to take in his hard, ravenous cock, a good size, enough to fill her up. She guided him in and wrapped her legs around the pole.
“Oh, you fucking whore, fuck me. Fuck me so hard,”
“This one’s a talker, hey?” Anna Lisa flicked back her hair back with her hand.
“Yes, but his voice is kinda sexy.” Claire giggled, “I like dirty talk.”
“I’m sure you do,” Michael made his way onto the stage. He knelt down next to the pole and waited for his turn.
”Yeah, you like that, you like that, you bad little slave, you been a bad little boy?” Gina ran her hands down Craig’s back, digging them in and marking his flesh. She spanked his ass.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah, “ Craig’s voice pierced through the thumping music. He flailed against the pole, the dirty orgasm sending shockwaves through his body. Gina, covered in his sweat, rubbed herself up against him one last time and collapsed onto the floor.
**
Craig screamed again, a low moan, a snuggly relaxed moan, like a secondary orgasm. Gina sat up, startled by the sound.
Michael knelt next to Craig, feasting on his neck. A drop of blood coursed down Craig’s chest, mingling with his orgasm sweat.
“You bastard, you fuckin’ bastard! I told you he was mine!” Gina grabbed Michael’s arm. With barely a twitch, he elbowed her, throwing her body to the other side of the stage. She blacked out.
_____
End of Chapter 1