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Chapter 1

She made a small audible moan, arched her back and put her right hand onto his chest and mouthed the word please. He looked down at her smiled and withdrew himself so she could roll onto her stomach and when she was ready he re-entered her. She moaned and moved her hand towards her clitoris and began to stroke it with her fingers. He felt the walls of her vagina tighten around his cock so he removed himself slightly, gave her a gentle smack on the left buttock so she would release her grip, and then he began to enter her hard and rhythmically. She began to bounce her hips backwards and forwards to impact with his movement. He took his weight on this left arm and moved his right underneath her. He found her clitoris and began to rub it, along with her finger, she moaned louder. He could feel her tensing and knew she would come soon. He waited till she had come and then rode her harder till he came. Spent she relaxed and put her head into the pillow.

He removed himself from her body and immediately went to the bathroom. He looked at his face in the mirror and washed his hands in the hand basin before stepping into the shower. He ran the main jet and placed his hands flat against the wall and allowed the warm water to cascade down his lean and muscular body. He felt the condom drop from his cock. One condom today she had wanted to start with oral sex and he had obliged her with his tongue and hands for 55 minutes.

He reached for the soap and pumped a large amount into his hand and began to clean his body. Working top down and paying particular attention to his cock. He picked up the condom and placed it in the hygienic waste bin, turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. His towels were there ready and he dried his body with the bath sheet and used the smaller towel for his hair. He dropped them on the floor and walked back into the bedroom.

She had put on her robe and was lying back against some pillows smoking a Sobranie Black Russian cocktail cigarette. She smiled as he entered and offered him a drag of her cigarette he declined. This was a man who commanded a look, admiration, from men as well as women, when he entered a room whether, dressed or not. He had elegance and grace that she supposed could only come from his confidence, ego, and perhaps good breeding. Every time she heard that song about Jagger she thought of him. He had a passing body resemblance to the singer but less tattoos. He returned her smile with a wink he knew she had been watching him.

She loved to watch him put his clothes on almost, but not quite, as much as she loved him taking them off. She especially liked to see the rose gold snake tattoo on his left buttock that she would stroke when they were having sex. Except it wasn’t a tattoo more 3D like a brand mark. Like the three chain link mark, same rose gold colour, under his right arm. He put on his white jersey boxers, which clung, well to his muscular bottom and accentuated his package, which she was very friendly with. He quickly put on his trousers and began to put on his slim fitting white shirt. He buttoned it, up to, three from the top and the tucked the tails it into his trousers. He turned around to sit on the chair where his clothes had been placed and put on his socks and shoes. She stood up went towards the window and moved the curtain slightly.

“I am away next week and will not be here Tuesday. I wondered if I could reschedule”

She knew he would only have Thursday, his spare day, free at such short notice. He was removing her from his appointments list on his phone already. He sighed.

“Ok Thursday but it will have to be earlier than normal at 6.30” he answered in that French accent.

“You will leave at 9 that is too early. We will need to meet in my apartment in the city and I hate you leaving before 12. So if we can make it 9 then 3 hours”

“No Camille. I will leave at 9”

She looked out of the window and waved to the driver in the waiting car below.

He put on his jacket, retrieved the watch from his pocket and left the bedroom. Just outside the door he fixed the catch on his Breitling watch and walked along the corridor leading through the open plan living area towards the front entrance. She had an obsession with 18th Century French painters and he paused only briefly by the door to admire the new Louis-Philippe Bretagne she had purchased last week. One look at the 1720 date and he knew it was a fake. He opened the glass front door and stepped out into the drive. The taxi was waiting and he got in.

“It is a little cold tonight Alex? You should have bought your coat”

“How are you Ron? Family Ok?”

“Yes it has been a good week for me. Olivia is having her piano recital Friday. We took your advice and went for the white outfit she looks adorable. You hadn’t forgotten you said you would come.”

“Of course its is built into my day. Bayfield Dramatic Arts and Music Academy 2.45 for 3pm start”

They continued to chat old friends now. Every evening Ron and his black Mercedes would be outside ready to take Alex to and from his appointments and this had been going on now for 2 years. The journeys with Ron were always a highlight for beşiktaş escort Alex. As they drew up outside Alex’s apartment block Ron extended his offer, as he did ever night, for Alex to join him and his family for a meal. Alex as always thanked him and said no. This time Alex changed Camille’s Tuesday appointment telling Ron that it would be Thursday at Camille’s apartment for 6.30 and pick up at 9. He said he would call him with the new details for Tuesday night tomorrow. They parted company both heading to the warmth of home.

Alex took the elevator to the top floor, which housed only one apartment a perk of owning the building. He opened the door, by remote, as it opened the lights came on. He took off his jacket and placed it on the leather sofa in front of him. He walked to the bar and poured himself a drink of vodka and went to the fridge to add the ice and the A positive to create the Bloody Mary. He walked towards the window and watched the hustle of the city, in the distance, as he sipped his supper. Glass empty and no longer hungry he walked to his own bedroom.

It was an elegant and luxurious room. He had huge French baton bed with sumptuous cream Egyptian cotton sheets, 6 plump pillows and a cream silk duvet. A black faux-fur throw completed the look. The walls were lined with cream silk wallpaper and oil paintings hung at various points. He took of his clothes placing the shirt and underwear into the laundry basket and hung his Armani suit trousers in the wardrobe. He placed his watch on the nightstand. He walked to his own bathroom. He wanted to check that the scratch marks on his back from Camille’s ring had begun to heal. They had fully.

He looked in the mirror at himself. The face that looked back at him had been doing so for over 300 years but remained forever 27. The hair was still shiny and the colour of dark bitter chocolate but in the current short spikey style not the long flowing locks he once had. He had a handsome face with slightly turned down brown eyes, eyelashes far too long and curled for a man. He had a proud Roman nose, good high cheekbones, again probably wasted on a man, and plump damask pink lips with a well-defined cupids bow. He had the fashionable designer stubble. A fashion that came and went a least three or four times a century along with goatee. He brushed his teeth still staring at himself in the mirror.

He put on some white jersey shorts and returned to the living area. It was only then that he removed the manila envelope that Camille had placed in the left inside pocket of his jacket while he was showering. He opened it and took out the money. He checked it $7,500 and a $1,000 bonus. He knew he deserved that. 50 minutes of oral sex and he had to wear the condom of her choice not his. He looked at his schedule. Camille had intruded on one of his days off. Thursdays were for him to enjoy not for business. But Camille was a regular and he could fill her regular spot easily from those on his waiting list. He wondered if he could fit two women into Camille’s usual 2 and? hours.

Chapter 2

Prostitution would not seem the natural choice of profession for a vampire. Essentially there were a few rules. He worked alone, his clientele wealthy ladies, never men, who appreciated his discretion, gentleness as well as the pleasure he brought them. Clients passed his details and reported feedback on his professionalism to their circle of friends. He would arrive and depart by car. During the day he arrived and departed by a dark windowed limousine at night by Ron’s Mercedes. Because people would notice he did not age he stayed in a location for a maximum of 5 years and returned a minimum of 30 years later. But in a city like LA you could stay 10 years with the population changes, Botox and plastic surgery people didn’t watch so closely. Of course he would change his name on every move never going back to a previous one. He always returned to the same home in each location he knew to keep hold of real estate and the value of local knowledge.

He maintained his body it was after all the precision tool of his trade. Even vampires could put on weight so a healthy mix of yoga, Tai Chi, quality A positive and Kendo kept him in perfect condition. No weight training muscles were needed but not to the extent you looked like the Incredible Hunk. He knew his clientele liked lean, chiselled, muscular men with the emphasis on lean and he kept pace with fashion. He was always impeccably dressed, designer and tailored never cheap of the peg and the look had to perfectly match his client’s wishes. If she liked him in suits then it would be suits if she liked a more casual look then so be it. She was after all paying him and paying him $5,000 an hour, except Camille who paid $3,000 because she had introduced him to so many ladies.

As a vampire he could have sex pretty much any time he wanted. He had control of his cock and could become aroused just by thinking about it and could last as long or as often as required. He could climax pretty much on demand again just by thinking of it. So his working day could span 24 hours but he did like to sleep for at least 4 hours a day. However he taksim escort choose to work around 10 hours a day. He had few objections; no sadomasochism, no males, no vampires, no strong violence, no underage sex, no animals, toys only if asked first and no voyeurs unless it was a spare during a threesome, outside of that he would consider any reasonable request. He was versed in the Karma Sutra and other literature connected to his work. He worked 4 days a week but could work 7 if he ever wanted but he never wanted to. Thursday he used to train but he would work it sometimes and his clients knew this. He practised safe sex, though he knew of no disease that could kill him but he recognised it was important for his clients and used featherlike condoms to ensure they still felt everything. Aids test were required again for clients who would ask for proof. Easily done the doctor who supplied his A positive also did his HIV test.

He would always ensure he drank 30 minutes before his first appointment of the day. Everyone needed breakfast. He never had food with a client; it was a business deal not a social event so no suspicion aroused in that area but he could eat food. He would always have with him a small bottle of A positive blood because clients always offered him a drink before they began their business, usually to relax them, and they liked him to join them. It also allowed him a top up if the previous appointment had been strenuous. So he drank Bloody Mary and brought his own ‘tomato juice’. No prostitution as a profession suited Alex.

His moment of reflection was interrupted by the sound of the intercom. He walked toward the door, pressed the receive/talk button and answered the call.

“Good morning Edward can I help you?”

“Mr Bovary sorry to disturb you at this hour of the morning. I have a gentleman here he wants to come up to see you. His name is Klaus D Java a rack.”

“Klaus Djavarak”. His sire. He paused for a moment. “Edward please advice Mr Djavarak that I have just returned from a very busy day and that as the hour is late I wish to retire. Tell him I will be very happy to see him tomorrow. That I would love to catch up with him over breakfast so if he returns at 8 am I will be more than happy to see him. Oh and Edward make sure you put the main bolt on the entrance door when he leaves “

“Will do Mr Bovary. Have a great night sir”

Chapter 3

Klaus. He had not heard the name since the 1890’s when he was last in Paris. What did he want? Alex always remembered his turning as if it were yesterday. This unwelcome visit jolted him to remember every details of his life with Klaus.

Alex had met Klaus in August 1705. The Spanish War of Succession was raging in Europe as it had been since 1701, and would until 1714, and Klaus always followed a war. War meant battle and troops and easy access to fresh blood. Fresh blood that didn’t require a kill and which no one every missed. No one queried how soldiers died in battle and he was putting them down out of the misery of an agonising death from a sabre blade or festering musket ball.

Alex was the third son of the Duc d’Bretagne and his wife Cristobel a distant cousin of Louis XIV, then King of France. His older brother Louis would inherit the family title and fortune and was busy playing the role of playboy in Paris or molesting young maids at home or whores and barmaids in taverns. His brother Philippe, the second son, was currently engaged to a cousin of France’s then Queen Maria Theresa and well on his way to securing his fortune. Alexander, at 20, was fated to follow a profession either by joining the church or the army. His recent exploits with the chambermaids, under tutorage of his brothers, and the discovery of his father’s illegitimate son Gregoire, two years younger than Alex, saved him from the church. So it was the army. His father had bought Alex a commission as Captain in a unit under the command of Louis Joseph, Duke of Vendome. Alex had arrived to join his unit in Italy on 12th August, after weeks of travel, and the Battle of Cassano was already being planned for a few days time.

He had met Klaus in a tavern on his first night in camp. Klaus claimed to be a young, handsome Hungarian nobleman fleeing from Hapsburg Prussia where his family had been wrongly accused of crimes against the state. He had made himself a regular part of Vendome’s brother Philippe’s party over the last 6 months and had travelled with them as they moved from battle to battle or meal to meal in his case.

He immediately took an interest in Alex particularly his body. They spoke about Paris and drank lots of wine. Every night Klaus would find some reason to be in the company of Philippe’s new young officer and to touch him. Alex was flattered by the interest but also worried about its nature. It was not natural for a man to observe, or touch another man in such detail.

The battle, designed to subdue Victor Amadeus and his new Austrian allies, took place on the 16th August and Alex found himself not at the side of The Duke of Vendome but with his brother Philippe at the Adda River. The battle was hard and Philippe allowed himself to be surprised etiler escort by Prince Eugene of Savoy. The line was fiercely attacked. Many soldiers died and Alex though he fought hard and well found his abdomen impaled and twisted by the sword of an Austrian officer. The battle continued around him, it seemed in slow motion, and men fell near and on him. After the battle the local people came to claim whatever they could from the dead and dying.

Alex was nearing death. He had lain in his own blood for hours when he saw the peasant approach. Alex knew as he was not yet dead, the peasant would probably slit his throat and run off with his sword, gold family seal ring, gold, jacket and boots. He had long since lost any sensation of pain, and cold, so knew his ordeal was about to end naturally so the peasant may forgo the throat cutting. As the peasant approached Alex noticed that he was turning the heads of the fallen, looking at faces as if looking for someone. He would occasionally bend his head down towards the soldier obviously to slit their throats. He did not seem to rummage through pockets and took no valuables. Perhaps he was a priest saying the last rites. He came towards Alex and when he saw the peasants face Alex realised it was a face he knew but could not remember where from. The figure spoke to him and picked him up and began to run towards a coach that Alex saw clearly in the distance. Once inside Alex felt warm liquid being poured into his mouth and then he lost consciousness.

Alex saw a montage of flashes of light, blurred faces, felt liquid poured in his mouth and this seemed to be coming more often. Eventually he opened his eyes and they stayed open. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings this was not the inside of a coach or the battlefield and it certainly wasn’t heaven or was it. There were fine tapestries on the wall and he was lying on a large four-poster bed covered with furs and other bedding. He tried to get up but there was pain in his abdomen and head. A hand reached for him and the figure spoke.

“You must lay still the stitches may burst. Here have some more broth it will help and I will call my master” Alex made out the face of a man holding a vessel of liquid which he lifted to Alex’s mouth and motioned that he should drink. He then left the room.

The next time Alex was awake things were different he felt less tired and on movement found he could sit up with ease. He was bandaged around the abdomen but there was no real pain. Sitting in a chair facing the window was …Klaus.

“Oh you are finally awake. Welcome to my home.”

“Klaus… it was you. You found me on the battlefield?”

“Yes. I was looking for you when they returned Major Montray said he had seen you fall. I went to find you. I knew I could help you. We will talk later for the moment I must leave you. My servants will attend to you”

With that he turned and left the room. As he left Alex was sure he bolted the door from outside.

Alex gingerly got up from his bed and managed to move around the room using furniture to aid him. He was weak, his legs didn’t seem to want to do as he asked and there was some pain from his abdomen. He eventually reached the door and it was indeed locked. He banged on the door and shouted for assistance but no one came. He turned toward the window and a shutter covered it now he was sure it had been open. He went to the window and the shutters were locked. He returned to the bed and eventually fell a sleep. He dreamed people entered the room, poured a strange tasting liquid of varying consistency in his mouth and left.

There was light then darkness and again when he fully awoke Klaus was again in the room. This time Alex noticed his bandaged had been removed, there seemed no sign of a wound or a scar. It was odd he knew he had been severely wounded

“You are awake good a month is long enough to recover from such a wound. No more sleeping you need to move around”

“I don’t understand? How can this be my wound healed? I thank you sir, I don’t know how you have done this but I am sure my family will provide you with many tributes of their appreciation”

“No your family think you dead. I made sure a body, similar to yours was provided and buried as you at Cassano. It was easy you had only been in camp for a few days your face was not known.”

“I don’t understand”

“Oh it is simple you belong to me now. I come from a very long line of natural vampires. You are now my property to do with as I wish. I see that you look scared and you think you misunderstood what I said. I will explain. I am a natural vampire I was born a vampire. My family many centuries no a lie a millennium ago discovered that if they took human females, impregnated them and then feed them on their blood the offspring were born vampires. They discovered their children grew and aged as normal and that if they were then ‘turned’ by their father the ravages of aging stopped. I choose to stay at 25 years of age. I walk in daylight though it strains my eyes a little these days as it would you, I fear no crosses, garlic, the Holy Bible is just a book and Holy water does nothing, it tastes odd, and I can see my face in a looking glass. I drink blood, when required, but can manage a little food to pass as human, love alcohol, which has no effect and drugs that do. Stakes do not kill me, fire doesn’t hurt me, it annoys me, but if I lose my head I confess I die. That should answer many of your questions. You.”

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