Blood Slave (11 page)
* * * *
“I know you did it on purpose. I was the one underneath you getting pounded. And it did hurt, but I’m okay now. I can handle it. I prefer to take a good pounding, knowing it’s for real. I prefer that to lies. If you want to hurt me, then do it. Don’t lie to me. Don’t pretend you really care. I’m the Energizer Bunny,
takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’
. All I ask is that you tell me the truth, keep it real. I’ll take a grudge-fuck any day of the week over death.”
He shook his head at me. I had climbed into his lap completely, sitting spread-eagle on him. I rotated my hips back and forth to grind down onto the lump in his crotch. As usual I was in my silk bathrobe with no underwear. My uniform. Nothing had changed much in my life. The only major difference, my body was Enrique’s exclusive property now.
“Hope … you’re missing the point, several points.”
“I have the point right here, and I’m about to get it good.” I shoved down hard onto his erection. He pitched a tent in his pants, obviously ready to pound me again.
“Oh you’re gonna get it all right. Let’s get a few things straight. One: I’m not going to kill you. Two: I don’t enjoy hurting you, you provoked me. Three: you should be in pain right now, but the benefit of my bite allows you to recover quickly. That’s why you’re still tickin’ and headed for another lickin’.”
I was so damn hot for him. I can’t get near him without wanting him to fuck me and bite me. It was so much more than desire. I needed him like a priest needs donations.
“Please! Stop talking! Give it to me!”
He had mercy on me. In a flash we were up off the couch and down on the floor. A second later his pants and everything else came off. Before I could take hold of him he slammed up in me. All the way to my limit. God it was so wonderful! I wanted him buried in me for eternity. He so owned me. I wanted to be fucked to death.
He gave me the most intense sex, like nothing I’ve ever known before. I couldn’t get enough of him. I loved every minute of being his slave, wished it would never end. I wished he’d never leave my side. It seemed different this time. Forceful, but he held back just a little. He cared enough not to hurt me. Though he knew I’d let him, and I suspect he wanted to, he was careful enough to avoid hurting me.
Well, it did hurt a little, the good kind of hurt. The kind that had me screaming, clawing his back, begging him not to stop. Then he bit me, the icing on the cake, the cherry on top, the whole purpose of my existence.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
And he didn’t, not until I fainted. I woke up sometime later with an IV tier setup next to the bed. Two bags hung in the air, a clear bag of saline-glucose, and a little red pouch of blood. No sooner did I wonder where Enrique had disappeared to, I had a sense he was coming to check on me. He walked through the door to my room – very freaky how well we are connected. But I still couldn’t read a single thought in his head.
“So I suppose you’re gonna try to convince me this was all an accident. You don’t really want to kill me.”
“I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”
“Ha! That’s funny. If I wasn’t so busy dying I might have time to laugh.”
“Damn it, Hope! If I wanted you dead it would be over!”
He moved so fast I could barely see him until he stopped at the point his fist smashed down in a hammer strike on my beautiful oak coffee table. The table exploded into pieces, shattered, splinters. Nothing but firewood now – kindling. He stared at me with that intense look, a fierce animalistic thing. I was shocked, squeaked in surprise, but stupid enough to poke at the lion – and this one wasn’t caged.
“I’m harder to kill than the coffee table – furniture doesn’t hit back!”
Luckily for me I made him laugh. He chuckled. The intensity dropped a few notches.
“What am I going to do with you Hope?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I get caught up in the moment. You’re a little too passionate for your own good. This is the risk I spoke of when you overheard that nasty conversation with Lia. Your health could be compromised unintentionally. You understand this was not planned? Nothing with you has been planned. It all just happened, and here we are. We have to make the best of it.”
He slid his hand across my cheek. “Stop provoking me. Stop with the accusations. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you healthy. Look how quickly you’ve recovered. I’ll bet you feel fine right now, a little dehydrated, but none the worse for wear.”
I did feel okay – thirsty, dry mouth, a slight headache, but I didn’t feel like I was dying. Perhaps I had overreacted. Maybe just a little.
“So … can I get something to drink?”
He handed me a glass of orange juice. I downed it all in one. That hit the spot nicely. He proceeded to feed me ice cream, something with fudge and caramel from Ben & Jerry’s. I felt like a little girl pampered by daddy. A handsome, sexy, well-endowed daddy. I can’t recall the last time a man fed me ice cream, maybe never. It was strangely romantic.
“Are you trying to fatten me up for the slaughter?” I poked at the lion again, but he took it good-naturedly.
“Of course, you’re too thin. We need to put a little meat on your bones before the ritual sacrifice of the solstice.”
“What, no sheep or goats?”
“That’s so Old Testament. Besides, I’m really not that kinky. Bestiality isn’t my thing.”
“And how am I to be murdered? Death by grudge-fuck?”
“Well if it’s really necessary I suppose we could use the ritual dagger. I happen to have one from Haiti, very authentic.”
“I think you have all you need right here, you could probably kill me with this.” I reach for the fly of his pants to unsheathe his weapon. He put a hand on my hand, stopping my advance with a few whispered words.
“I’d really enjoy what you’re about to do, but I think you need to take it easy. And I don’t want to be tempted any further to feed from you tonight. Let’s take it slow till tomorrow night … Okay?”
He seemed so gentle, concerned. I took him at face value and backed off – a little disappointed, but strangely reassured by his caution.
“It’s almost sunrise. I must go now, but I’ll return to you tomorrow night. And we will finish addressing your concerns.”
“But what are you going to do with me? I can’t sit locked up in this room day after day, I’ll go insane!”
“I have a couple ideas. We’ll discuss it tomorrow night. Get some rest, drink lots of fluids. Cuídate querida.”
He kissed me on the mouth and left me locked in my beautifully-furnished prison cell.
* * * *
I woke up at three in the afternoon and realized I’d forgotten to tell Enrique about my number one problem – Suboxone. That little strip wasn’t cutting it. I needed something stronger. Back at the Towers in Spanish Harlem I had known several girls – escorts – who were into pills, and I had no desire to go there. These girls would shoplift, steal, beg, borrow, and sell anything that wasn’t cemented into the ground for their next Oxycontin, methadone, or Xanax. It was the withdrawals that drove them to do it, fear of withdrawals. I can sympathize with them. I really needed something bad, right now. I felt like I was heading down that road – the Desperate Addict Lane. I had already developed a tolerance for the Suboxone.
I had plenty of time to think before Enrique arrived. Two and a half hours is a long time to think about your life when you’re hard up for a bite. I still didn’t trust Enrique had been telling the truth to me, yet lying to Lia. I mean honestly, who was I to him?
Sure, I’m a nice piece of ass, but so what? Those are a dime a dozen in New York. Why should I believe anything special existed between us? He’s been with Lia for twenty years, made her into a vampire because he loved her. That’s like a twenty year marriage right? So what was I to him? A little side action? Little bit of strange? No wonder she’s jealous. I’m sleeping with her husband. He’s got me here in his home, all dolled up in expensive clothes.
What makes me so special? Sure I read minds, but that doesn’t exactly endear me to anyone. I learned that lesson at the age of 14. I learned to keep my mouth shut about the things I plucked from people’s minds.
Faustino found me exciting to fuck. I anticipated what he wanted, what he liked. I catered to him sexually. I can’t really do that with Enrique, I can’t read a single goddamn thing from him.
Faustino had thought it cute when I caught him or one of his Traquetos lying and called them on it. He often called me in to question people suspected of lying. Usually some idiot skimming a few dollars off the top of the business, cutting the coke with baking soda, or even using the product he was supposed to sell. Traquetos can be phenomenally foolish at times. All the drugs and illicit money makes them feel invincible.
Faustino’s idea of questioning was basically an extortion of information at gunpoint, Arana on standby. Arana really got off on scaring people. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it more than sex. To Faustino it was just business, liars are an occupational hazard in the cocaine business. The worst liars were the fools hooked on their own product. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen an addict get the shit kicked out of him for using too much product.
I quickly learned it did no good to lie to protect these idiots. They eventually confessed through the convincing methods Arana employed. All I could do was speed up the process of getting to the truth, which might save the poor fools some pain. A lot of guys learned of my reputation and wised up quickly. Once Faustino called me in, they started telling the truth rather than suffer the consequences of being caught in a lie.
Faustino and Arana used me, the other Traquetos feared me, but my status as a lie detector never made me any friends. I never once admitted to anyone I could read minds. They thought I had a heavy dose of women’s intuition. I was so careful. I never said anything too revealing. I never said anything that couldn’t be explained as acute intuition.
I spent all these years being careful, and for what? Enrique knew all about my dirty little secret and now I’m stuck in this trap, a prisoner of a vampire and his psycho bitch servant. I know without a shadow of doubt my telepathy does not endear me to anyone. It makes me special all right, but not the kind of special anyone wants to keep around.
Thoroughly depressing. To top it all off, Faustino and Arana were probably looking for me, pissed as hell. Traquetos are so overbearing and possessive. Faustino would not be happy his little lie detector had disappeared. He’d immediately assume I ran off on him. It wouldn’t be easy or simple to convince him otherwise. He knew damn well how much I wanted my freedom. Even if I found a way to break the bloodslave bond with Enrique, I’d be living on borrowed time until I cleared things up with Faustino.
With all this to think about, suffering through withdrawals, I had acquired a nice shitty attitude by the time Enrique arrived.
“There’s my Knight in shining armor. Come to check on the Princess in the tower? Need to change the food and water in my cage?”
He said one word, “Cálmate.”
Calm down
.
With that he bit me into silence. It’s hard to talk or complain in the middle of a multiple orgasm. I could barely recall what I intended to complain about.
He hadn’t wasted a second giving me what I wanted, what I needed. I didn’t trust him, but I couldn’t really hate him. He was too charming, too gallant. It’s impossible to hate a man who can bring you to climax several times a night without even taking his clothes off. Each passing night in this bedroom served to convince me there was no way in heaven or hell I’d ever escape this trap. I couldn’t stand to be away from Enrique, even for a few minutes.
Time to face facts. My life revolved around Enrique, he owned my ass. What to do … what to do. He must’ve been attuned to my mood. His words mirrored my own thoughts.
“What are we going to do with you?”
“We could start by getting me a laptop and a cell phone. I want to order calzones, and some patron tequila. I’m going loco in here without anything to do. And we gotta talk about this Suboxone in the afternoon. It’s not cutting it. I need something stronger.”
“Hmmm…” He held me out at arm’s length. “Can you type?”
“Yeah, of course. Why?”
“I’m thinking you may be able to help translate some paperwork from Spanish to English and vice versa. If you can handle it, I’ll start you out at twenty an hour.”
“I’m to work here in my beautifully furnished cage?” My hand swept out like a model on a ‘Price is Right’ showcase. I let my gesture pass over the smashed coffee table on the floor in a heap of fragments.
“No. I have an office you can work in.”
“Oh goody! I get to work beside the psycho. We can compare nails after she breaks them off trying to claw my eyes out. Won’t that be fun?”
“She’s leaving for Spain tomorrow.”
“But what about when she returns?”
“Let’s take this one night at a time. We’ll see about setting up your own private workspace when she returns in a month or so.”
“And what am I going to do before seven when you’re up and about? Am I supposed to sit in this room and climb the walls? There’s nothing to do and I need something stronger than Suboxone, it’s not working. Maybe if we double the dosage or something.”
“I’m concerned you could become dependent on the opiates in Suboxone, and really, it’s not designed for your particular problem. There’s nothing that replaces my venom. I’m going to arrange for a dose of venom to keep you calm until I awake. It’s wise for you to sleep in longer. You’ll need to adopt a fully nocturnal schedule to match mine so you’re not awake too early in the day. You should try to stay awake into the morning, about eight or nine a.m. Then you’ll be able to sleep in till at least five or six in the evening.”