She shouldn’t be here but now the vampires have her scent…
‘What about her?’ The softly-spoken words make my eyes widen and my pussy tingle in sudden lust.
At the bar, two male vampires are looking straight at me. I pretend nonchalance as they walk towards where I’m seated in the corner, while carefully checking my hair. Does it cover my ears? Is it pinned down tightly? My eyes are covered by my rose glasses, my teeth always stay in my mouth. My tail is long and fluffy and most definitely tucked away inside my full skirt.
I am so used to hiding what I am — a member of the shining court, a fae, a cat girl as the humans would say. But I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t be here in the vampire bar. I don’t even know what might happen if I get caught.
The lead vampire, the one who had spoken, already stands over me, his eyes dark with no white iris showing. That is a bad sign. He is hungry and looking for someone to play with. How I wish I could say yes.
‘What’s your name, pretty?’ he asks, reaching out a nonchalant hand to run across my hair. The feeling of his fingertips on my hair makes me tremble, half in fear, half in need.
He thinks I’m a human, one of the many humans who come to the vampire bars to flirt and pick up. The humans come here for sex and pain, drawn like moths to the flame. The vampires are natural dominants, playing with them as pretty, amusing toys.
I can never have that, so I just come to watch. I hide in my corner and I watch the sweet humans on their knees in front of the vampires, their mouths open and begging, their clothing pulled aside and their bodies showing.
I come to listen to the melodic, cruel voices of the vampires. I watch, half horrified and intensely envious, as they torture the humans with pain, with chains, with nightly orgies of sex and lust.
‘My name is Ayla,’ I murmur, keeping my eyes down. The feeling of the vampire’s hand on my hair has provoked other sensations in me. My breasts feel hot and needy, and I want to yowl as if I’m in heat. I moan to myself in unfulfilled longing as I wish I could sink to his feet, rub my hair against his hand and beg for more.
‘Hello Ayla,’ the vampire says, smiling down at me. He seats his butt on the table in front of me and his friend takes a seat nearby. I feel boxed in and I’m frustrated that I like it. ‘It’s a pretty name. It suits you,’ the first vampire murmurs. ‘But why so shy?
‘I like her,’ says his friend. ‘She would look so cute at my feet.’
I flush at his words. I am in so much trouble right now. Ayla is actually my name. It isn’t wise to lie to vampires, especially not when you’re a fae like me, and inherently bad at lying. But knowing my name will give them power over me, power that I can ill afford to yield.
I need to get out of here before I sink to my knees and open my lips as if pleading. My skin yearns for me to look up at them submissively. I know just how to open my eyes wide, begging to be hurt, to be dominated, to be fucked. I think once I started, I would never stop.
I need to get out of here before they work out who and what I am.
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© 2022 Pixie Isobella
The author asserts their right to be identified as the creator of this work under the name “Pixie Isobella”.
Pixie Isobella 