Author's Note: This story was written for Databastard's November
2006 Unconventional Story contest, and is also posted at the
EMCSA. This story is unusual for me for a couple reasons. First
of all, the sex style is different from any I've written before
(you'll see). Second, I've never done a cut-away before; my
denouement has always been immediately following the action.
Finally, the biggest difference is a new story type; I've never
done a Vampire story before. This story is fiction in every way
and also mine in every way; author's permission required for
reproduction of this material. I hope you enjoy, and please
e-mail me at frustrateddoublehelix@gmail.com with any comments,
questions, complains, or suggestions.

Lucy Westenra Never Had These Kinds of Problems
by Frustrated

*Mmmm…I slide off my chair and over to my bed, where he’s
waiting. We’re still talking, but it won’t be long now. I toss my
glasses lightly aside. I can see in the tilt of his neck, the set
of his jaw, that he has intentions for tonight. So do I.
I perch down next to him delicately, massively aware of my own
weight and his heat. It radiates off of his knee, his thigh, his
hip, his side, and ripples through me; an invasion of waves.
His hand, yes, his hand slides backward. It’s behind me, it’s
coming closer. His five perfect fingers make five perfect indents
in the blue bedspread. Behind me, oh! His voice, it cuts through
my straining and I have to answer, I have to say something. I
didn’t hear the question, but I have to answer, right?
I don’t have to answer. I look at him. I tilt my head, just a
little. Just the right way. I look out from under my eyelashes in
just the right way, with just the right spark in my irises,
burning blue across our distance. Our distance, which is rapidly
closing. Soft silence, this kind of glaring silence, is anything
but awkward. It means a kiss. It means soft lips meeting for the
first time.
His lips have some give, but the intention behind them is firm;
they press. They want me. A sigh slows through my body, from my
chest to my mouth. We press as tight as we can, up to inside one
another but of course I’m not going to go too far because this is
our first time and I don’t want to seem like a whore.
My arms find their way around his neck and his find their way
around my back. One of them cradles my head and neck, tenderly.
We haven’t talked about this yet, but the talk can wait. Every
kiss breaks a boundary, leaves less between us to explain. The
force of his passion signifies that he really likes me…or at
least thinks I’m incredibly hot. I can live with either scenario.

My head sneaks down, below his ear. I lick the skin, tender
licks, finding the sensitive spots. He moans; I stop. What if
someone heard?
“You’re gorgeous, Melinda. Let’s date.”
I smile and nod. I press in, I run my hands through his hair. I
grab his shoulders and pull, just a little. It drives men wild,
and he’s no exception. It makes them want more. I want more, I
want to give more. I want to take more. I change.
He doesn’t notice, at first, that my hair has turned to silky
obsidian under his hands. With all four closed, how could he see,
at first, that my eyes had turned to carmine? No. The only thing
he knew, at first, was my teeth; he felt those. He felt two grow,
he felt them sharpen.
Our kiss entered a hard pulse and we pressed together; he cut
himself on me. I tasted blood. He pulled back. I pressed forward,
hand ready to cover up his gasp. How else could he react to a
visage so changed?
I’m the stronger one, now. One fingernail scrapes the lightly
drying splotch on his neck. I hiss, I leap, I sink my teeth into
it. The heavy, heady blood flows into—*
Fuck. Why does this always happen when I’m trying to work? I
can’t get anything done because I’m thinking about getting
action, and I can’t get action because I have to do work.
Fuck. Why do I keep deluding myself? The reason I don’t get
action is because nobody likes me. I’m alone and it’s not a huge
campus but I don’t know anyone who hosts parties. I’m afraid to
go out alone and there’s no one to go with because nobody likes
me. Thus, I get no action. Thus, no blood. Thus, less
concentration. Thus, less work. Thus, no going out. Plus, I look
all pale and that probably leads into a, “thus, no one likes me”
right there.
Let's face it; I'm a smallish, mousy girl with no prospects and
no life. And, uh, that last one is literal. I'm un-fucking-dead
and proud of it. Of course, it means that I *need* human contact.
For, you know, blood.
“Vampires have a Night Life,” my barely-existent ass. It's 2 am
on a Saturday night and I'm doing homework. Three, two, one.
“Heyyyy, duuuude! Fwaa-”
“F-what? It's, it's, the greatest album ever!”
“Man, it's...I don't know what but--”
Yup, there they are; the Saturday night drunks. Two-twenty-three,
right on schedule. God, I'm so hungry...you know, they might not
even notice. Not just a pint or two...I just want to sink my
teeth into those juicy necks, into those smooth necks, that
little spot right underneath the hair, and that other spot where
the bare skin disappears under the shirt and you know there's
this whole expanse leading down, down, to...And then, just to
suck! To drink, and suck, and slurp and glurp and laugh through
the blood, blow blood bubbles like little kids blow in their milk
with a straw. Oh, the push and pull of the heart against my
teeth, against the back of my throat when I get an artery. The
pushing, the pulsing, chugging and slurping, drinking and sucking
and...
OK, I admit, I've got a bit of an oral fixation. It kind of comes
with the territory, if you know what I mean. But shit, who's ever
heard of a virgin vampire? We're supposed to be the temptresses,
the guest stars, the ladies of the night! I'm not *supposed* to
be this dinky little virgin who's never had anything stronger
than blood to drink and jonesing for it. I should at *least* have
big tits or something, *some* redeeming feature that makes me the
hot heroine in the end.
“But duuuude, vin-vin-vinyl is *much* better than CD, s'like
because-”
OK, that's it. I am *outta* here. I'm horny and I'm hungry and
this night and those drunks are mine for the taking. I *will*
have them.
I change; hair to black, eyes to red, teeth to long, nails to
sharp. I peel back the bug screen on my window like a third
grader pulls dried glue off the back of her hand.
I leaped from the third floor like a maniac. Well, anyone else
who tried it would be a maniac. I can glide a little.
“Hello, boys.”
I landed a few feet in front of them on the path with a thunk and
planted my arms on my hips. Damn, now I look like Peter Pan. I
crossed my arms over my chest.
“Woah, where did you, like, come from?”
“The dorm.” I motioned sideways and up with my head.
One or two of the guys looked up.
“Holy fuckin' shit, man! Did you do that?”
“Awwwwwwesome!”
“Uh.” *Now* people like me? Damn it! I don't think I could
harvest from a friend in good conscience. But maybe there was
still a way. Hunger made me wily. “Uh, boys! For this awesome act
that I have preformed, I demand payment. From you.”
“Payment? Huh?”
“How much?”
“No way, we're not paying her, she probably ran around, what the
fuck are we-”
“No, what?”
I shouted above the confusion. “A pint of blood!”
“B-blood?” One guy in a school-spirit hoodie and hiking boots
almost keeled over laughing.
“Yes. A pint from each of you.”
“Uh. Huh. Huh huh,” he chortled, trying to wipe the tears from
his eyes and missing, “how're you gonna collect?”
“Like...*this*,” I shouted, springing at him. My teeth hit neck,
soft, succulent neck and felt the warm skin, brushed his cheek
with mine...I broke the skin and tasted AB negative. *Damn* was
that stuff *gooood*. Oh god, I'd been so *hungry* and here was a
boy-banquet, a—I shouldn't kill him, right? Not gonna kill, uh,
him. Right?
Yeah. On to his goggle-eyed friends. Oh, oh, there's one wearing
a G-, G- what's the word? Green! Green shirt. Matches his eyes,
mmmm...O positive! Hrm, not quite as specialized. Bland, but
goooood still. Hunger makes the best sauce or varnish or
whatever. Whoopsie, maybe a little more than a pint there, but
what's a drop or two among friends?
Hey, there's another guy! He's kinda cuuuuute, too, all blonde
and shit. I lunged for him. I missed! How did I miss? Hee, caught
him this time! Hee hee hee, he's no match for meeee! I've got
speeeed! Whoosh! Yummy yummy waarrrrrm blood. We're spinning
around while I've got my teeth sunk in his neck, he was having
trouble standing to begin with and “*Hic*” I think, I think I am
too. A lil bit.
“Dude, the vamp-girl is *drunk*”
“D-drunk? *Hic* How? I haven't had *any*, ever!”
Hoodie guy slapped green-shirt guy across the back. “Blood
alcohol!” he shouted.
“Shhh!” said blondie guy putting his hand over his mouth. “Do you
wan' sec-security to hear?”
“I-I feel kinda dizzy,” I said. The world went suddenly dark; I
must have changed back. I don't have crazy night-vision when I'm
not in Vampire form.
“Well, you're kinda drunk,” said green-shirt guy. He grabbed my
hand and pulled me up.
“I've never, never drunk before,” I told him.
“I can kinda tell,” he said. “Hey, I'm Jasper, by the way.”
“Melinda,” I said. “A regular M name.”
“That's Ryan,” said Jasper, pointing to hoodie guy. “And that
drunk-ass punk over there, is Boyd.” Blondie-Boyd took this
opportunity to throw up. It was white, it was gross.
“Eeeew!”
Jasper guided me around the puddle of upchuck. “So you're a real
vampire, is that right?”
“Uh huh.” I nodded.
“Well, we were heading to a party. Wanna come?”
“OK!” Awesome! Who knew guys asked you out when you attacked
them? If I had known, I would have gone on the prowl *much*
sooner. Eh, maybe Jasper is just a masochist. Or I'm prolly
reading the signs wrong. I'm show and tell, prolly. Oh well, I'll
go to a dance at a dorm. I'll drink more! Maybe even some beer,
too. And I swear, I swear by my ratted jeans, they *will* come
off tonight. Tonight, the vampire loses her virginity! Wheee!
The guys crowded around me as we walked down the path, asking
questions about the night life, how it all started, stuff like
that. The standard stuff. I didn't have the heart to tell them it
wasn't all capes and capers, so I might have embellished a wee
bit. We made a turn-off, but I was talking about my first blood
so I couldn't say anything. We made another, but Boyd was talking
about *Buffy The Vampire Slayer* so I couldn't say anything.
My first opportunity was when we arrived. It was just a little
house with a big screened-in porch. It wasn't a dorm at all! This
was a, a party of people who already knew each other!
They were pushing me up the steps and onto the porch and I had to
get out, fast! Who knew what awaited me in that dungeon of people
that already knew each other? I run faster changed, so I changed
my colors, my spots, my stripes, my species, whatever.
Ten horrified gasps met my transformation. Shit! They, they were
smokers. Smokers out on the porch, not in the house.
“Hey guys, we found a vampire!” said Boyd.
Someone choked. There was a brief pause.
“So. Uh. Anyone have some blood they're not using?”
Wait, these are the kids that the Red Cross rejected because they
smoke, right? So should I really be--
“Mmph!” Someone shoved their neck into my mouth. OK. I'll take
what's offered. Sluuuuurp, suck, a little lick to close the
wound...
Heep. I feel dizzier...
For the next half hour, I absolutely *gorged* myself. The half
hour after that was spent throwing up in the bathroom. I should
have taken it soooo much easier the first time. Speaking of first
times...my goal for the evening.
Brandon was pretty cute, as was Boyd. Vampires are supposed to
ravage blonde's, right?
I don't know...maybe I shouldn't “zero to sixty” it; I've never
even *kissed* a boy, should I really be having, you know, *sex*
with one?
I don't want to be thinking about this right now. I sunk my teeth
deep into Darla, the closest drunk within reach.
There! Now, now I'm ummmm, whoo! Dizzy, spinning room! Spinning,
like little spirals...hey, hypnosis!
“What's up, Vamp girl?” asked Jasper.
“I'm gonna hypnotize someone wi'h my eyes!”
“I think it's time to take you home, Vamp girl. You've had a bit
too much.” He patted me on the shoulder. I nearly fell. OK, I
tipped over.
Ryan caught me. “I'll help you get there.”
Ryan and Jasper both caught me by an elbow and guided me through
the door. We started walking the dark, forested paths back to my
dorm. It was so late it was early; there was not another soul
stirring.
“Time, time to hypnotize you guys!”
They traded significant looks over my head. Now that I thought
about it, Jasper's hand had been on my ass for the past quarter
mile. This wouldn't be so hard. I grabbed Ryan's chin and turned
his head so his eyes looked deeply into mine.
“You're in no state to hypnotize *anybody*” said Ryan, taking his
head back.
“Waaa! It's not fair!” I screeched, sat down, and started
sobbing.
“Oh, now, what's not fair?” asked Jasper. He knelt down beside
me.
“Mina Harker and *especially* Lu-Lu-Lucy Wes-Westenra never had
these kinds of problems! One little bite, one little *touch* with
vampires and four men, *four* are lining up to give her
transfusions. Little blond girl in a white dress, oh, I
understand! All the men gather around *her*, want to give from
themselves to *her*.” I buried my face in my hands. One fang
nicked my palm; shit.
“That's what you want, is it?” asked Jasper.
“A transfusion?” chimed in Ryan.
I nodded.
“Well, you know,” said Jasper, suddenly sounding dead sober,
“when *Dracula* was written, blood and semen were considered to
be basically the same thing.”
“Oh, we'll give you a *transfusion* all right.” I heard the sound
of two zippers being pulled down.
“Wha-?” I sniffed.
Four hands, rough hand, pulled me up...to all fours.
“What are you do-ugh!” I tried to look around, but my bangs got
in my eyes, which started to water.
I felt a mass of flesh pushed past my lips. How dare he, that
little ass, I'd show *him* who was boss! I-
“And no biting, Vampy. The only kind of sucking you're gonna do
is the regular kind.”
I didn't flinch an inch.
“Or,” he continued, “I snap your neck.” Ryan laid his meaty,
sweaty palms on my neck. I retracted, mind and body. How could I
stand against him? My hair went back to mousy brown, my eyes
dropped their cranberry glaze, my teeth shrunk to mere pearls;
helpless. Dammit! Now I really couldn't see; Vampire form has the
added bonus of fixing my eyes, but human, I'm a nearsighted mole.
I became aware of my other end; my faded jeans sliding off of
someone else's accord; Jasper's accord. He was more tender, as
far as I could tell before Ryan's prick started intermittently
cutting off my air and I was forced to start sucking and licking
before he either choked me or broke my neck.
Jasper slid his dick up and down my slit a few times, and then
pushed it in, oh hell! I saw flashes of red and white dots along
the side of my vision because something just broke down there and
there are little stones from the path and leaves and thorny twigs
sticking to my hands and my knees and I can't tell but I must be
bleeding because he's sliding a little easier and it's taking
inhumane effort to keep from going to teeth.
“Do something, bitch!” Ryan tapped me on the back of the head,
hard. Fucker. I caved in my cheeks and sucked, just a little. He
moaned. No, no, I couldn't do this. I wouldn't give pleasure to
my tormentor, and then, wait, was that heat from my cunt? Yeah,
Jasper is definitely sliding easier and it still smarts like heck
but I'm getting little twinges, like maybe that thing was
supposed to be down there, in there, parting my tender flesh. I
gave Ryan a little lick and took him in a little further. He
moaned again and stopped jackhammering himself in and out of my
mouth so hard. So the boy wanted to be pleased, could I blame
him? Oooh, that feels nice, Jasper! I'm feeling some heat, some
friction. Maybe, maybe you should keep going, OK?
Jasper seemed to sense the change in my attitude; maybe I changed
my angle a bit to give him better access, I take no
responsibility, but he started pumping harder, which was pushing
me further and further onto Ryan, who was becoming incapacitated
with pleasure. At least, that's what I had to assume it was, what
with all the moaning and swearing. His hands slipped to my
cheeks, and he felt himself slide in and out of my mouth to
Jasper's rhythm.
Jasper was grunting and moaning and panting and I felt a white
heat growing, but in my pussy this time instead of behind my
eyes, it was *good*, it was *happening*, it was--
“Oh, oh man, I'm, I'm--” Ryan shoved himself down my throat,
thrust his balls up to my chin as he came. I took it all down; I
had no choice, he'd snap my neck if I didn't, I mean, I didn't
want to di---Idiot. Dummy. Dim-wit, fucktard! I'm a *Vampire*. He
can't *kill* me by snapping my neck. Only a stake can do *that*,
shit, how *stupid* was I to forget? Ryan stepped back a short
distance and zipped himself up, panting. Oh well, it would have
hurt like a motherfucker for a long time, and that's worth being
cautious about, right? Oh holy upchuck, I feel sick! Sick, and
used, and filthy, and gross.
Tears came to my eyes as I retched up Ryan's filthy cum, first
from wretchedness, and then from anger. How fucking *dare* he
threaten me, rape me, have his little *way* with me? Me! I
changed into my rightful form, my beautiful form: ebony and
crimson and ivory and rage. The pebbles impressed into my palms
fell off in a crunching rain as I grabbed his ankle and sliced
his legs out from underneath him. Jasper could only pull back and
watch in horror as I crawled up over the sprawled body of his
compatriot and drank him dry, pulling the blood from his jugular
long after the heart stopped making it pulse. Dry and dead. My
first murder. Ma would be *so* proud.
I rose and wiped the dirt and rocks from my knees. I licked a
drop of blood off my right fang. Jasper's eyes were watching
intently.
“You're wondering if I'm going to kill you.”
Mutely, he nodded.
“You *did* rape me...but you weren't bad. You subjugated me, but
you didn't suck. *That*,” I said wryly, “is *my* job.” I knelt by
his side.

*Two Weeks Later...*

“Oh Jaaaasper!” I heard his footsteps approach from the back of
the room. “Shoulder massage, will you?”
“Yes Mistress,” he effused. He almost sang; he loved saying those
words. And *he'd* been the one trying to stop me trying to
hypnotize him! The irony made me sigh with pleasure; sometimes it
even made my nipples hard.
“Oh, and Slave?” He got hard when I said that; I grinned. That
was a nice touch on my part, if I do say so myself. “When you've
finished that, do my homework.”
He bowed as his fingers started their work.
