Vamprotica 2006 Part 1

VAMPROTICA 2006.

by Jana J. Hanson.

BECKY'S DREAM.

By J. L. Day

Becky sat up quickly in bed. She rubbed her sleepy eyes to clear them, her ears tuning to the silence of the night, straining to hear what awakened her.

There was nothing but stillness and absolute silence. Not even the tiniest chirp from a cricket.

The nightly ritual was all too familiar. Every night for the past week she had been startled awake, only to find peace and silence surrounding her. Always the same, time after time, night after night.

She slipped from bed as silent as she could, tiptoeing from the bedroom and down the hall to check on her son. He was lost in the carefree sleep of youth and innocence. Continuing down the hall, she stepped out of the house into the back yard. A warm and sultry summer night stirred with a slight southern breeze, and her flimsy T-s.h.i.+rt flapped in the wind. She tuned her ears again to the sound of the night, but was rewarded with no more to answer her questions than she found inside of the house.

The gra.s.s felt cool beneath her feet and the water in the pool made a gentle rippling sound in the breeze. It slowly dawned on her that not only was the night still and quiet, it was totally and completely dark. No security lights, no lights on the inside of nearby homes, nothing. The night was black, as if there were an eerie curtain blocking out the outside world.

Thinking there must have been a power outage, she peered around into the gloom of the pitch-black night, feeling alone and vulnerable. Fright won out in the battle of emotions echoing in her mind and a quick spin turned her around to nervously walk back toward the house. As the security of the back door loomed closer, a calm overcame her, creating the desire to stay outside and enjoy the night. It overpowered the other thoughts tormenting her worried mind. Where seconds before she had felt insecure and wished for the sanct.i.ty of the house, now all was peaceful and her only wish was to dwell awhile longer in the serenity of the unusual night. Mystical and magical, she heard her name floating upon the breeze in a drawn out and hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Beccckkkyyyyy." Mind reeling, her thoughts raced to rationalize between imagination and reality.

An odd realization crept into her mind making the hair on her neck stand up. That whisper was not being spoken out loud. It seemed more like an echo in her mind. It also sounded familiar. Where had she heard it before? There was something unsettling about it, some quality that she couldn't quite grasp, and it unnerved her.

Oddly though, the voice comforted her and made her feel as if she were wrapped in a blanket of absolute safety. Becky gave into a sudden uncontrollable urge and removed her T-s.h.i.+rt, letting it slide from her hand onto the ground. She stood nude and exposed to the world, the gentle caress of the breeze coursing over her body. Air blew seductively over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she felt her nipples perk up, tightening slowly to stand erect and firm. There was an uncanny s.e.xual intensity in the air and the breeze awakened desires deep within her tummy.

Feeling mesmerized by unseen forces, she sensed a mystical power floating upon the night air. She found herself enjoying the security of the darkness engulfing her. She faced into the breeze, her hair whipping softly about her face. Wisps of bangs floated over her eyes and tendrils stuck to the corners of her mouth. The breeze caressed her tummy and tickled between her thighs. Her nipples stood firm and pierced into the night. An echo of unknown feelings stirred deep within her femininity.

"Beccckkkyyyyy," the low whispering voice called again. She did not even bother to look around; she knew that no one was there. The voice spoke to her mind, not her ears. Feeling slightly ludicrous and insane, she whispered softly in to the night.

"Are you what has been pulling me from my sleep?"

"Yeeeeeees," came the answer, again in the long, drawn out whisper. "It is I, little one," the same low and throaty voice continued aloud, half rumble and half sigh.

An odd feeling washed over her. She was completely naked, alone and vulnerable in dark shadows, yet she felt safer than imaginable. Whatever it was, whomever it may have been, she knew that she was safe and protected not only from them but by them.

"Where are you?" she asked into the night.

"I am in the beyond, little one. I can not come to you, unless you ask."

Her mind grappled with what she heard and silently she wondered if the unseen voice was trustworthy.

"You may trust me."

"But, I didn't say anything," she murmered, her voice trembling.

"One need not speak for me to hear, little one."

With weakened knees and trembling body, her mind raced to find answers to questions rattling around inside her head. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaved, rising and falling in rapid succession as she gasped for breath and tried to compose herself. She forced herself to inhale deeply and calm down. She slowed her breathing, telling herself to think this through.

Though she was terrified, there was an overwhelming sense of the familiar about the man, the creature, or whatever he may be. Her common sense told her to fear; yet her instincts told her she was in no danger. Perhaps it was because she had been having the dreams so often, she felt she knew, at least in some small way, the manner of the creature speaking to her from the darkness.

"Come to me that I may see you and know to whom I speak," she requested of the unseen voice in the night, her voice trembling with panic mixed with excitement.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, yes, little dove," echoed the answer.

In the corner of the yard near the edge of the fence, a mist materialized. An outline slowly took shape and began to loom silhouetted against the darkened sky. Her breathing stopped for a moment as she took in the sheer enormity of the mystical man. He slowly strode closer, as the muscles in her belly tightened and a wild pulse pounded in her throat.

Looming before her, he was both magnificent and fearsome. He was very tall and broad shouldered. His size was awe-inspiring. In the shadows of darkness, she could tell very little about how he looked, only that he had ominous yellow eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Calm yourself, Becky. It is I, and you have nothing to fear." His real voice split the silence of the night.

Turning his palm up, he extended his arm to her. His eyes told her to take it and obediently, she did so. He led her to a dark corner near the house then released her hand. He faced her and said, "Come into the light that I might better see you." Just as she was about to ask what light he was referring to, he snapped his wrist and fire leapt from his fingers, igniting a small pile of sticks that appeared from nowhere. The night now danced with soft firelight and stepping nearer, she complied with his request, but in doing so got a better look at him as well.

As her eyes slowly drank him in, she could not help but feel a thrill of excitement s.h.i.+ver through her naked body. She could not see him that well. But, she could see the burning light of admiration smoldering in his eyes. She could tell by his breathing and the intent look on his face, he was not only admiring her naked body, he was wors.h.i.+ping it.

"My, my, my," rumbled his powerful voice. "You are quite the sight to behold. I am breathless."

An odd sort of warmth spread through her as a tremor in his voice signaled his appreciation for the beauty and grace he found before him.

He stepped closer to her and she felt as if her heart would stop. A rea.s.suring smile spread over his face and he made a slight bow of his head. She understood that he was telling her not to fear him.

Now that he was closer, the dancing flames illuminated his features. She was startled to realize that his eyes were not yellow but clear. Somewhere between gray and blue, though they really had no color at all. When he stepped from the fire and immersed himself once again into the night, they returned to their yellow glow of incandescence. His eyes were one most the most intriguing things about him; it was as if they reacted and changed at his whim.

His skin was light and unblemished, not dark and tan as she had somehow had imagined. His hair was long and dark, like a s.h.i.+mmering black veil that hung from his head and nearly enshrouded his face.

Looking up at him, she again felt the shock of his enormous size. He must stand nearly seven feet tall! His long and elegant limbs sprouted from an athletic and well-toned body. Her eyes trailed down his legs, noting the size of his feet. Big feet, she noticed and then a blush spread over her face from the thoughts that danced through her mind.

The light of the fire faded into darkness. Again, she stood before the looming shape outlined so magnificently against the sky. With his hands on her shoulders, she gazed thoughtfully into the yellow orbs that peered intently down at her.

"Who are you?" she asked in a quivering voice.

"All in good time, sweet Becky," came his throaty reply.

He leaned toward her and lowered his face closer. Shock overwhelmed her as she realized that if kissing her was his intent, she would not stop him. Instead, she antic.i.p.ated his lips with eagerness. A feeling of disappointment washed over her as he pa.s.sed her lips and leaned lower. The disappointment slipped away as his lips pressed softly against the side of her throat.

He lightly kissed her neck, lips parting to suckle the tender flesh and stroke it with his talented tongue. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist and he pulled her tightly against his powerful body. Though she willingly accepted his advances, she felt trapped. She was helpless, but eager. Frightened, yet curious. He kissed down her neck and nuzzled gingerly. His lips on her shoulder, he bit ever so gently at the collarbone.

His lips moved back up her throat, and she felt a s.h.i.+ver course through his body. She felt him tremble, the heat of his breath flowing down her chest, making her nipples strain against him. His hands reached down to cup her a.s.s and he pulled her firmly up to him as she was carried away with a feeling of peaceful relaxation. Somehow, this magical being was intoxicating and anesthetizing her. His lips parted and deep in her soul she knew what was coming next. She was not sure if she was victim or prey-perhaps just an object of his desire-she simply did not care.

First, she heard a slight popping sound then a piercing sensation, but oddly, no pain whatsoever. The popping sound was his teeth tearing through my throat, she realized in an oddly comforted mind. She felt a small trickle of blood dribbling down her throat as he suckled tenderly.

She felt the beat of her heart and then another sensation. It was his heartbeat echoing hers. The beats mixed and became one. A wave of euphoria overtook her. A soul-wrenching o.r.g.a.s.m shuddered through her body as he slowly and gently lowered her to the ground.

Lying on her back, seeing the night slowly fade into a gray mist, she mumbled a question: "Am I going to die?"

His teeth slipped from her throat and a sad sigh escaped from her chest. He gazed lovingly into her eyes and caressed the sides of her face as he spoke in a soft whisper.

"No, little one, you will not die."

He kissed her forehead and each one of her cheeks. Then he was gone, leaving her to lie there, aching and yearning for him.

She awakened the next morning in her own bed, sleepy and spent, but none the worse for wear. She felt as if half of her was missing. Strange how you can miss someone you just met. Her mind turned to him, eagerly awaiting his return. She knew he would return.

The office was fast-paced and hectic. Becky worked with vigor, though it was exhausting, more so mentally than physically. Yet, she felt oddly energized and alive. People at the office even commented on it, saying she must have caught her second wind and was whizzing around the office like a teenager.

She even felt like a teenager. Her body did not feel the stress this time of year usually piled on. Her mind was acute and detail-oriented to a degree long lost. Answers to questions came before they were asked. She second-guessed what each person needed and her mind whirred with startling clarity.

She did not question this newfound rejuvenation. She did not waste a precious moment with idle thoughts or curiosity as to its origin. She knew from whence the gift came. In some dark corner of her mind, she knew full well that her unearthly visitor from a few nights ago had granted her some small piece of his power, a tiny speck of the smoldering fire that illuminated his night eyes.

"It was him," she muttered to herself. "He gave me this." Silently making a wish, she said, I only hope it lasts.

She glanced around the room and took in the spectacle of day-to-day office life and felt more like an observer than a partic.i.p.ant. Everything around her seemed to be in slow motion. Sounds were startlingly loud.

When deep in thought and more or less hypnotized by the rhythm of life, a gentle and hushed voice whispered to the recesses of her mind.

"Becckkkyyy."

Startled, she looked quickly around the room, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Shhhhhhhh," whispered the voice again. "Do not be frightened. It is I."

Surveying the room, her eyes found no glimpse of what they sought; her newfound friend was not there. She struggled with the thought of calling him friend, part of her thinking she should refer to him as Master. There was no one even vaguely resembling the figure that had loomed in the haze outside of her home.

Deciding to be brave and being very cautions not to make a sound with her lips, she forced her mind to utter; "Greetings, Master."

Holding her breath, she waited nervously and prayed her answer was the correct one. Finally, at long last, the reply echoed in the silence of her mind.

"Well done, little one. Your salutation pleases me."

She had been standing, looking around the room and watching the activity around her. Feeling a bit queasy and possibly even faint, she sank slowly into her chair and felt secure in the sanct.i.ty of her desk.

Becky forced herself to breathe, struggling to calm and center her mind. She waited impatiently for his voice to speak again, each tick of the clock seeming to take days. Nothing, not a single sound, came to her mind.

A sinking feeling deep in the tummy made her feel nauseous. Trying to stand, Becky discovered her knees were wobbly and she decided to wait another minute before getting out of her chair. She began to feel her composure coming back to her then stood slowly like a colt on newborn legs, and walked quickly to the restroom. The restroom felt like a sanctuary. Peaceful solitude washed slowly over her. She reached for the door and the lock clicked into place with a metallic clink. Alone, she slowly began gathering her thoughts.

She stood in front of the sink and ran lukewarm water over her hands, splas.h.i.+ng it delicately onto her face. Staring into the mirror, she noticed little beads of water running along her chin, dripping down her throat, and she lost herself in the reflection.

"Such a beautiful face," the invasive whisper once again crept its way into her mind. "Stand very still, little dove," the voice rumbled. She froze like a stone statue, allowing only her eyes to move. Heart racing, she felt magically transfixed, terrified of what was coming but euphoric with blissful antic.i.p.ation at the same time. Believing she was slipping away from reality, she considered that perhaps the surreal moment she was now experiencing might possibly be something from a dream and surely could not be real.

Completely alone in the restroom, the mirror right in front of her verified there was no one else in the room. Somehow-Oh G.o.d, how-she felt warm breath on the side of her neck. She peered closely into the mirror and in total amazement realized that she could see the strands of hair near her throat flicker as the breath flowed across her neck. Terror, joy, fear, ecstasy, reckless abandon and nightmarish anxiety all collided, a jumble of chaotic emotions wreaking havoc in her mind.

Oh, G.o.d, she screamed inwardly. I can feel his hands on my hips!

Another glance into the mirror once again reaffirmed her thoughts. Subtle impressions of hands made dents in the fabric of her blouse. The breath flowed a little firmer and a gentle laugh echoed from his mind to hers.

"Shhhh, you are safe. I can not harm you anymore than I can harm myself." His raspy voice calmed and soothed her.

His hot breath moved over her neck. She felt the heat and dampness of it flowing down her blouse, tickling the curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as it drifted down the cleavage and fluttered over her tummy. The heat, along with the excitement, made her entire body feel warm, and an indescribable, cozy feeling overtook her. She felt the rest of her body awaken as a familiar dampness between moist thighs reminded her she was a woman.

Invisible hands strengthened their grip on her voluptuous hips. She felt a kiss from warm and wet lips pressing softly into the delicate side of her throat. Mesmerized and entranced, she watched her reflection in the mirror. She could see the imprint his sensuous lips left on her skin.

His unseen hands slipped around her hips and slid up under the bottom of her blouse. Gentle strokes on her smooth tummy awakened fires in her womanly core that made it difficult to breathe. Time came to a complete stop; there was only herself, the mirror and his magical hands.

Breathless with antic.i.p.ation, she watched, hypnotized as the clear outline of hands stretched through her blouse. The imprints crept higher and then mercifully, they cupped her anxious b.r.e.a.s.t.s, caressing them through the lacy bra. In the mirror, it looked like a small animal had wiggled up her blouse and was trying to get out. The sight was almost comical, but the intensity of the moment drove away any desire to laugh. She could scarcely take in enough breath to keep from feeling lightheaded; expending precious air on laughter was out of the question. The outline was so clear she could even see fingers as they closed over the nipples straining against the confining bra, tugging gently on each one.

Serious heat and moisture percolated in the clean-shaven mound softly nestled between her thighs. Tiny droplets of moisture trickled along swollen lips and her panties soon felt moist. A tightening of her tummy made her aware of her state of arousal and her entire body s.h.i.+vered with delight.

His hands descended slowly down her torso, and his lips closed against the softness of her throat. Down came the magical hands. They traced along her curvaceous form and followed the lines of her hips, working down her thighs. They ran along the waistline of her skirt then lifted it slowly. Watching in the mirror, all she saw was her skirt rising magically into the air. Then at long last his hands slid up her thighs, along the outer sides of her hips. The mouth that suckled her throat opened and teeth raked gently over her delicate skin.

Ohhhh G.o.d, her mind once again cried out. Yeeeeesssssss!

She waited in delirium for the slight p.r.i.c.k as his teeth popped through the skin, a sharp but short-lived pain. Ecstasy washed over her and flooded away all conscience thought or awareness.

Fingers crept and crawled slower and slower towards heaven, she felt the suction as he closed his mouth to bring her the bite she longed for and craved so desperately. She felt his teeth drag over her sensitive skin and pull back. She tensed knowing that next would come his angelic bite. Bracing herself, she felt a flood of moisture cascade down her thighs as a spectacular o.r.g.a.s.m racked her body.

Closer, closer, here it comes.

His teeth pressed into her.

Tap, tap, tap, a knock echoed on the door.

"Becky, are you all right in there?" A worried voice violently disrupted the moment.

She looked into the mirror, but there was nothing, not even the outline of hands. Her skirt had floated back down to her knees.

"Yes, I am okay," she said with a disappointed feeling was.h.i.+ng over her. She smiled softly and gazed at her flushed face in the mirror. Leaning slightly forward, she blew a kiss and walked to exit the door.

Lying in her hotel room alone and bored, Becky draped herself across the bed to take a nap. Away for some work-related training, she enjoyed the quiet solitude and time for herself. Even with the peace and tranquility of not being subject to the constant beck and call of endless streams of people, she could not quite seem to relax enough to take the luxurious nap she had been yearning for. She was having trouble identifying the cause for the restlessness and then it dawned on her-she could feel him coming for her.

There were a couple of very important parts in that last thought that bothered her. Things so subtle as to be ignored by many, her subconscious seemed inclined to enlighten her. First was the very fact that she could somehow sense him coming for her, moving closer and closer as he made his way. Second is that she could feel him coming at all.

In the pit of her stomach, she felt him closing in long before she had the slightest sound to validate the feeling. The third thing that troubled her is that the inner voice quite clearly said coming for her and not coming to her. Something so simple as replacing to with for, yet it made an entirely different change to the context of the thought.

A unique and heady feeling built to a crescendo in her mind. She realized that the emotion so completely overtaking her was a mixture of horror and pure, unadulterated wantonness. Sensing his nearness, her breath sped to a pant, her tongue flicked along anxious lips, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s heaved as if she has just finished a marathon. A plethora of emotions swarmed through her mind and ignited a fire throughout her body.

He was close enough that she could hear his boots as he stalked down the concrete hallway, a hollow and echoing click as each heel impacted the floor. She knew he was making so much noise in an effort to torture and to entice her mind to wander. Closer and closer he came. Finally, there was an incredibly soft and gentle tapping at the door.

As she walked to the door, her mind wrestled with what might come next. She knew she should run, that locking the door and calling the police was the only logical thing to do. But that was not what she wanted to do.