The Vampire Whorehouse

Crystal's smile spread across her entire face, and as she gave Martha a quick kiss she giggled under her breath.

Despite being as beautiful and sexy as she was, the vampire didn't get much because of a variety of circumstances. Her typical lover was a tipsy or full blown drunk partier from some big city club who Crystal was sneaking away to a dark alley or lady's room to feed from. Sure, sex always ensued, but it was seldom satisfying for the vampire and it was never anything close to making love.

As she kissed Martha eagerly, from her mouth to her pert nipples and back, Crystal plucked her bra free and moved fully atop the blonde beauty. Their legs alternated, pressing their upper thighs against one another's sex. As she continued kissing Martha passionately, she grinded against her and began breathing quicker and deeper at the pleasure that had been absent from her life for so long.

"You feel so good," she whispered between kisses. "Oh, Martha ... you feel so good..."

Martha moaned as she kissed and grinded back, her body heating up even more as she made love back.

"You feel good, too," she whispered back, kissing along Crystal's shoulders and neck, her hands running up and down her back gently. "You feel fantastic, Crystal."

This is what Martha missed from being with another woman. The passion was different, and she felt like she didn't have to change for her. She loved being with men, but there was something special about being with a woman.

Crystal gave her new lover a knowing look as she began to slowly move down the younger woman's body, kissing her flesh as she went. Her eyes never left Martha's own as she passed the prostitutes firm breasts and flat belly, heading for that spot that, unlike a male lover, the two of them had in common...

Martha moaned and squirmed underneath Crystal's kisses, knowing where she was heading and the kisses exciting her passion even more. "Oh, that feels so good," she whispered softly.

Crystal had no idea what to expect when she reached her destination. The woman she was about to pleasure was by trade a provider of sex. This wasn't the vampires first time down low, of course, but she was far from the professional Martha was.

As her head moved between the young woman's thighs, she traced her fingers down Martha's baby's-butt smooth groin. She found the prostitute's swollen labia and gently caressed them, first the left, then the right, then both again. She glanced up to Martha's face again, finding her in the low illumination of a night light on the far wall as she pressed a finger between the folds and immediately found her wet clit...

Martha moaned as Crystal gently massaged her labia, but let out a gasp of pure pleasure as she pressed a finger against her clit. It got her even more excited as her sex was touched. "Oohh, that's good," she moaned softly. "Real good."

Crystal beamed with joy, because just as her Master could sense honesty in his lover's claims of pleasure, his eldest female Child could, too. She had been prepared for Martha to fake her joy, of course. The solution would have been to follow the old adage, Try, try again in finding something that pleased the younger woman.

She continued fondling Martha's clit with her finger tips, while the lengths of those fingers laid between her now-even-wetter labia, gently moving to and fro.

"What can I do for you, lover?" Crystal asked seductively. "What will drive you mad with joy, my sweet?"

The vampire had always been partial to pet names, just as she'd always been a bit too quick to presume that the person she was making love to now would be the person she would be making love to tomorrow, and the day, the week, the month, and the year after. She'd had many disappointments in the eight years she'd been sexually active before being turned, and far more disappointments in the eighty years that had come after being turned. Yet, she still continued to jump in head first, hoping for a safe splash in the pool of love.

Martha responded to Crystal's question, and Crystal acted accordingly, causing the woman to react to the growing pleasure with obvious delight. The vampire whispered to her new girl friend, "Cum for me, my love. Cum for me..."

Martha moaned and gasped with growing pleasure and delight, loving the pet names and the slight possessiveness that Crystal was bestowing upon her. "Oh, yes, oh yes, oh YES," she cried out as she reached climax, and soon, she did, arching her back as her core clamped down on Crystal's fingers and spilled forth her sweet nectar, letting out a primal scream of absolute pleasure.

Crystal knew what she herself liked when someone was between her legs, and when she saw that Martha's climax was imminent, she replicated it. She rolled one hand over, palm up, inserted her long, middle finger deep into her lover's pussy -- just as it clamped down tightly in orgasm -- and gently caressed the forward inner wall of her vagina, where the nerves running through Martha's groin were so abundant.

When she'd still been a mortal, and had still preferred boys, this had driven Crystal wild. And as she watched -- and felt -- Martha explode in ecstasy, she could only hope that it would extend her lover's euphoria. Crystal struggled to raise upon one elbow while continuing to please the professional sex provider, eager to watch ever second of the younger woman's orgasm.

Crystal knew of few things that were as exciting to watch as a woman in ecstasy. And as it had been a long time since she herself had caused such pleasure, it was resulting in a broad smile filling her face.

And then ... she looked down...

In the dim illumination of the night light, Crystal sensed the blood pulsing through the vein in Martha's inner thigh. It wasn't something one of the prostitutes Johns would have noticed had he -- or she -- cared to drive the whore to orgasm; nor was it something that a caring lover from the days before Martha's induction into this career would noticed either.

But Crystal was a vampire, and she could sense things a normal human could never imagine. And right now, as the fangs in her mouth began to extend and her already wet pussy began to throb with excitement, Crystal was almost seeing the blood surging, accelerated by Martha's pounding heart.

She tried to look away but couldn't. She quickly withdrew her finger from the woman's treasure chest and even sat up away from between Martha's quivering thighs. But her gaze remained on the spot -- that spot -- where she so badly wanted to sink her thighs and quench her thirst.

She could smell the endorphins and adrenaline pulsing through the woman's body, and her vampire instincts told her Do it! That's why you pleasured her!

But it wasn't, of course. Crystal had truly wanted to pleasure and, hopefully, be pleasured by the adorable blonde. It hadn't been about feeding at all. She moved off the bed suddenly, stepping back a couple of steps to simply stare at Martha from the dark. She could feel her heart pounding with excitement, almost as if it had been she who'd been driven to climax.

She should have run, and she was about to when Martha reacted to the strange behavior...

Martha soon relaxed from her orgasm, and saw Crystal a couple of steps from the bed, looking almost afraid. "Honey? Is there something wrong?" she asked, getting up from the sweat soaked sheets and making her way to her. She smiled reassuringly at her. She was a little wobbly standing, but she managed.

"Don't come near me!" Crystal said with obvious fear in her voice. She saw the reaction on her near-donor's face and quickly said with an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, love. I ... I didn't mean that. I meant ... just ... just give me a moment."

Crystal was fighting the desire to feed with all she had. Her upper lip was curled in a genuinely comical expression as she tried to hide her fangs, which refused to recede into the jaw sockets that usually concealed them. Her chief concern was her heart, which was pounding with anticipation of a feeding.

"I ... I..." She was trying to explain her actions, but she couldn't devise a lie that would sound even remotely true. Suddenly, she felt the fangs withdraw and her heart begin to slow. She moved forward with arms extended to take Martha into her clutches. She began weeping immediately, saying, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Martha soothed, taking Crystal into her arms. "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay." She was shocked at the sudden change, but she was also used to it. Some clients often felt guilty about cheating on their wives or girlfriends, and had similar reactions.

She led Crystal back to her bed, holding her close and stroking her hair, whispering comfortingly to her. She sat them down and held the other woman while she cried, gently rocking her. She didn't know what caused the outburst, but she also wasn't one for prying. If Crystal wanted to tell, she would.

When she could finally manage words, Crystal only asked, "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Without waiting for an answer, she kissed Martha on the cheek softly, then rolled back onto the bed. She held her hands out, welcoming the other woman into her arms.

(OOC: Assuming Martha joins her, she will hold the girl tightly but without romance, almost like loving sisters. When dawn comes, she'll be gone. I have to go to bed, so I'm done for the evening. My next post will be by Madam Marla just after their sunup. Night night.)

Martha smiled sweetly. "Of course, sweetie," she said. She laid back down on the bed and wrapped herself into Crystal's arms, and holding onto her tightly. She kissed the other woman's cheek gently and fell into a deep sleep, lured on by the orgasm and the night's activities.

The next morning came, and Martha woke up to see that the spot next to her was empty. She was somewhat expecting it, and sighed softly. Smiling at the memory of last night, she got up out of bed and went over to run her morning bath. It was dawn, so Marla would be getting up soon. She should check on Olga as well, before making breakfast for everyone. She made a mental note to get some painkillers out of the medicine cabinet for Marla. Maybe she'd send one of her coworkers to the store to buy more food, since they had company. She'll ask Thomas about any allergies that he or his bodyguards might have.

(OOC: Ignore the car in the bodyguard photo link below. I couldn't find a better pic than this.)


"Em!" Sugar called out at the sight of Martha nearing the kitchen entrance a bit later. The prostitute hurried to her co-workers side, grasped her by the hand, and drug her into the kitchen as she said with excitement, "You have to see this!"

Most of the house's remaining 9 whores were present, with many of them gawking at Marla, who was sitting on one chair with her bullet pierced foot atop a second chair for the groups viewing pleasure.

"It's healed!" Sugar exclaimed. "It's a miracle from God!"

There was a snicker from somewhere amongst the gathering, but it went quickly silent. Sugar was the resident bible thumper. And while she'd learned over the years who did and did not appreciate her preachings and tried to not annoy those who didn't with her thoughts on religion, she did slip once in a while when surrounded by her beautiful, scantily clad fellow sinners.

"You must see this, Em," Sugar continued, using the nickname she'd given her friend after continually confusing Marla with Martha in the early days. She pulled Martha to Marla's side and pointed at the madam's foot. "It's healed!"

One of the other prostitutes, on her knees beside her employer, was tracing a finger over the small round scar where there should have been a nasty, bloodied scab. The woman looked up at Marla and said only, "Wow."

"How can this be?" someone asked.

"It's impossible," another responded.

"What did he do to her?" one of the two who'd been watching over Marla the night before chimed in. "After he threw us out ... what did he do to her?"

"Nothing."

Most of the girl's spun in surprise at the sound of an unexpected male voice. Standing in the now open basement door was a muscular man who hadn't been part of what one of the girl's had called Thomas's assault team.

"My name is Gregory," he told them, closing the door behind him. "I supervise Mister Thomas's daytime security. I'm going to have to ask that from this point on, the basement remain off limits."

"But we have stuff in--"

"Our food and stuff--"

"This is bull shit--"

"Quiet!" Marla finally cut in after letting the girls spout off. She looked to the man and asked politely, "May I speak to ... Mister Thomas, please. If there are going to be rules--"

"Bull shit rules!"

The madam gave her girl a sharp look, which silenced the whore, then continued, "If there are going to be ... new rules, I need to know what they are."

Her experience with Yuli, Thomas's predecessor, had been that most of their issues had been because of poorly understood rules and expectations. The girls rarely broke a well known rule, because the punishment that came down from the former brutal protector of the House was often swift and painful.

"Mister Thomas will not be available until this evening," Gregory said with the professional tone of an Executive Assistant. He smiled slightly, trying to give them the impression that he was a friendly guy, which he wasn't. "But I will tell him of your need."

"Are we taking clients to--"

"No," both Gregory and Marla said together. Marla continued, "Thomas paid us to take the night off, remember. So..." She stood from her chair without so much as a wince, the injured foot apparently no problem to her at all. "...it's pizza day."

There was a sudden jolt of excitement amongst most of the whores at their madam's declaration. Pizza Day had been a tradition for the House before the task master Yuli took over and replaced the grandmotherly madam with the younger, sexier Marla. The girls were periodically given a night off, usually in the beginning of the week, and the madam took them to Billy Bob's, a Chucky Cheese wannabe pizza and game parlor that had once been owned by the now gone madam.

They spent the entire evening laughing and drinking and playing games in the establishment that was closed for the evening, giving them time away from gawking males and chastising females. It had all been paid for on the madam's dime. Marla had tried to continue Pizza Night, but Yuli had insisted that the house stay open with most of the girls available to take clients. It just wasn't the same thing unless all the girls were there, so it simply fell by the wayside.

"After dark."

The words came from Gregory, loud over the excitement of the mostly young women. When most of the faces turned his way, he said, "I can't let any of you leave without Mister Thomas's permission, and he won't be available until later this evening."

There was another uproar amongst the prostitutes, and Marla -- walking slowly toward the muscular man who was obviously concealing a hand gun under his suit jacket -- silenced them, asking the man, "Why after dark?"

Gregory didn't respond. Marla continued, "You didn't say a specific time. You said after dark."

The big man, who likely could have crushed the thin Marla in his bare hands, looked a bit nervous. He hadn't meant to speak those words, obviously, or he'd simply given away information he wasn't supposed to reveal.

"I don't have his availability time, is all," he said, his words not very convincing. "Mister Thomas should be available somewhere near or after dark."

"Is he here?" someone called out.

"Is he in the basement?" another girl called out with a mocked, spooky tone. There was a round of laughter, after which the girl added, "Sleeping in a coffin. That's why he won't be available until after dark. He's a vampire!"

There was almost an uproar of laughter, and after Marla again silenced it and studied the man for a long moment, she turned to the girls and said in her firm Don't fuck with me tone, "Day off. Laundry, house keeping ... catch up on your sewing and costume repairs. Inventory of The Closet..."

...which meant the community supply of lubes, condoms, sex toys, and such.

"Doesn't sound like much of a day off," one girl grumbled and the group began to disperse.

Marla caught Martha's eye and smiled. She genuinely liked the whore and had often told her that if ever she had to get away from the House, she would want Martha to leave with her. She went to her as she asked, "Would you cook for us, Em? You're the only one who knows how to satisfy that craving."

She kissed the shorter prostitute on the forehead and pulled her into her tightly...

(Going to work. If you want to claim any of the dialogue above as Martha's, feel free. I will have my phone today, and I will post short ones if I get a chance. But feel free to have fun with some longer stuff if you want. You can create another prostitute if you have any ideas.)

Martha smiled and hugged the Madam of the house back. "I was just thinking dinner would be good. Sugar, go in the kitchen get the steaks out, and count them, please," She said brightly. She loved to cook. She looked up at Gregory. "Will Thomas and the others be joining us? And are you as well?"

Smiling, she looked over at Olga, who was pale and teetering. "Olga, in the kitchen with you. You're looking far too pale for my liking," she added. "Sugar! Tall glass of orange juice for Olga!"

She kissed Marla's cheek and sighed softly. She was amazed at the miraculous recovery, and she did wonder what Thomas did after he dismissed them and after their conversation. "Soon, the House will be busy, bustling with more clients than you know what to do with," she reassured her friend and employer. "Just like the old days. I don't know about you, but I think the violent ones' days here are over, which will be good for the girls." She could remember the lastttime a client got violent, and she nearly beat him to a pulp, before Yuli stepped in.

She looked at Gregory and gave a brisk nod as she walked into the kitchen and wrapped Olga up in a blanket. "You better not be getting sick on me," she teased her friend. "I already have more clients than I want to deal with."

Olga chuckled."Em, I swear. You're like a mother hen with us. Keep in mind I'm five years older than you, missy."

Martha laughed as she double checked the number of steaks. "Yes, but only because I want to make sure everyone's looked after. We only have each other in this world."

"I suppose you're right," Olga said with a soft sigh. She coughed then drank some orange juice. Martha smiled as she began to marinade the steaks in her special sauce. "So, the rumor mill has it that last night you serviced Thomas."

Olga blushed as she nodded. "Rumor mill is correct for once. I did indeed service him last night. Why he didn't come to you is beyond me."

"I went to bed early. So? How is he in the sack?"

Olga laughed at her friend's question. "You're still like a teenage girl sometimes. But, if you must know, he's amazing. One of those men that actually care about your pleasure."

Martha laughed. "So, did you actually have an orgasm, or did you fake it? If you faked it. . . My Gods, he's hot."

Olga laughed even louder before coughing. Once she regained control, she said, "I had a true orgasm. And then pretty much passed out."

Martha tsked and kissed Olga's forehead. It was warm, but not alarmingly so. "Good for you, darling. You're staying put while I cook dinner. I'm keeping an eye on you."

"My angel," Olga said sarcastically and the two women burst out in raucous laughter.

"Okay, okay," Martha said, still chuckling. "Let me work on dinner, okay?"

"Okay," Olga giggled.

Martha hummed as she worked, setting the first batch of steaks in the oven. "That's the rare group," she said to herself as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face and began working on the macaroni salad that she was serving with the meal. She turned to go downstairs to the basement, but then she remembered what Gregory said.

She walked over to him. "Excuse me, Gregory? I need to go get some macaroni pasta for tonight's dinner, but you said we weren't allowed in the basement. Could you please go down for me and get some?"

"Will Thomas and the others be joining us?" Martha asked Gregory, who was standing before the now closed basement door with the professional stance and awareness of a Secret Service agent guarding the President. "And are you as well?"

"I can't speak for Mister Thomas," he said in his official tone, "but ... I'm sure that some of the Family and Security would partake of your meal, if invited."

"Olga, in the kitchen with you" the blonde ordered, turning her attention back to her own people. "You're looking far too pale for my liking..."

Gregory had been informed of Thomas's partaking of the prostitute. It was his job to be aware of all interactions between the Family and their donors ... or, when it became necessary, victims. He was very aware of what Thomas and the others were, as well as of how they survived and thrived in a world that would have hunted them down as quickly and brutally as it had the witches and werewolves that had also once populated the earth with them.

He watched the women work for the next few hours. The only time he even picked up his feet was to stretch his legs and take an hour long break, provided to him by yet another previously unseen male who simply walked into the House without a word and relieved him.

The madam had returned to her bedroom for a nap, returning downstairs just as Martha stepped up to the recently returned security man and asked, "Excuse me, Gregory? I need to go get some macaroni pasta for tonight's dinner, but you said we weren't allowed in the basement. Could you please go down for me and get some?"

"I'm sorry, miss," he said, still as formal as ever, "but no one goes downstairs until Mister Thomas authorizes it."

"Em," Martha said softly from behind, gesturing the younger whore to her. She looked to Gregory and asked, "In that case, may we be permitted to make a visit to the market? It's only a few blocks away."

Martha knew that the cooking genius could work around not being able to make the salad. But she asked the question anyway, simply because she wanted to test the waters concerning what liberties they did or did not have under their new Protector.

Gregory hesitated a moment, then lifted his wrist close to his mouth -- just like in the movies -- and ordered, "Jackson, come to the kitchen."

Martha looked to Marla and just shrugged. A moment later, a petite woman entered the back door of the house, passing through the pantry into the dining room where the others stood.

"Take Bravo..." he began, meaning the second of the SUVs that had brought the day time security to the house. He looked specifically to Martha, continuing, "...and make a supply run with this one. You know the drill."

"Yes, sir," the guard said with obvious respect. She looked at Martha's morning wear and said, "I'll be outside. Ten minutes...?"

She waited for the prostitute's response, then headed back out the door again.

"Em," Marla said, taking Martha by the arm and leading her slowly toward the hall that led to the younger woman's bedroom. Quietly, she instructed, "See if you can get her talking while you're out. I want to know more about this ... Thomas, and his people. There's just something ... not right about them. I'll see what I can learn here."

Back in the kitchen, Marla did what she could to help those who had taken on a few tasks assigned to them by their in house chef, but she'd never really been much of a cook. When she was just a little girl discovering boys, her mother had told that cooking was the way to get and keep a man who would keep her and take care of her.

"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach," the now departed woman had told her.

But as she's blossomed and turned into the tall, sleek, and erotic beauty she was, while simultaneously realizing that she had no interest in being kept nor taken care of, Marla learned that parting her legs was the way to get the man who would take care of her -- with his credit cards -- until she was ready to beat feet and start on emptying another wallet and dick.

After a while, she simply left the kitchen, returning to her room to study her foot. She thought she remembered Thomas coming to her room the night before; thought she remembered him feeding her something before covering her nearly naked body with a blanket and leaving, but not before caressing a hand slowly up her entire length with obvious lust.

Was it just a dream? Or, had he been there? What ever it was, there was no denying that, as Sugar had put it, something miraculous had happened. The only thing remaining of Thomas shooting her in the root was a small round circle about the size of a dime on both sides of her foot. When she passed out on the good pain killers she'd been given, the flesh on the top of her foot had been dented in, and the flesh on the bottom had been mangled due to the fragmentation of the bullet. There had surely been broken bones, too. The foot had 26 bones, and yet now she was able to walk on it without any pain whatsoever.

Martha smiled and kissed Marla's cheek. "Don't worry, Mistress," she said in a soft, teasing voice. "I'll do what I can."

She changed into jeans and a T-shirt advertising Guns and Roses. Slipping a pair of sandals on her feet, she smiled and looked at Marla. "Please, keep an eye on Olga, and pump fluids into her."

With that, she went out with the female guard that Gregory sent her with.

"So, have you been working for Thomas, long?" she asked conversationally in the SUV, armed with a grocery list she had made throughout the course of the day, as well as some prescriptions she had to pick up. She tried to keep up a conversation, and it was weird having someone watch her while she shopped. She picked up macaroni pasta, some more orange juice, milk, potatoes, and some ice cream to celebrate Sugar's birthday coming up soon. She grabbed some sweet tea as well, before picking up the prescriptions.

Once she got back to the house, she shook her head at Marla before barking at people to come out of the kitchen. "Sugar, please, don't touch the steaks. . . Kayla, can you please stop teasing her? It's very rude. . . I know, I know, but you shouldn't do that either way. . . Olga, here's your medicine. . . Where's Carla? I have her no baby pills. . . Sugar, stop prying in the shopping bags, it's very distracting, and kind of rude. . . No apology needed, just don't do it. . . Please, out of the kitchen unless your name is Olga or Marla. . . "

Some girls whined. "Em, please? We promise to be good. . ."

"I know, but too many cooks in the kitchen isn't good for the food. Now, scamper along. I'll call you when dinner is ready, okay?"

The girls grumbled, but smiled brightly when Martha bribed them with cookies to flee the kitchen. Laughing, she continued to cook dinner.

"Thank you, Em," Olga said, taking her medicine and drinking her orange juice. "I don't know what we would do without you."

"Probably starve," the young whore replied with a sigh, and Olga chuckled.

"That's probably true," Olga agreed. She coughed some, but it sounded better.

"Hon, I don't think you should work tomorrow," Martha said, a note of concern lacing her voice. "You sound like a chain smoker."

Olga smiled. "Sweetheart, I'll be fine. You worry too much."

"Hey, if one girl gets sick, then the whole house gets sick. Remember last year, with the flu?" Martha said, looking at her friend with a spoon in her hand. "Besides, you look like you've seen a ghost, or some traumatic event. Your skin is that pale. I'm doing it as a precaution. And after dinner, you should probably get some more sleep."

"I've slept half the day," Olga protested.

"If you're looking like that, I don't care if you just woke up. You should go to bed after dinner. I will lash you to the bed if I have to."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, I would. And I have a nice set of handcuffs in The Closet I can use."

Olga sighed, knowing she wasn't going to win. "Alright, you win."

"I know I do," Martha teased, mixing up the macaroni salad. "Now, I need to get the veggie option going. . ."

While more steaks were cooking and the macaroni salad was setting, Martha pulled Marla aside.

"I could barely get her to speak beyond, 'Yes' and 'No'," she confided. "I'd pretty much have to bed these people in order to get any information out of them. Not that I would mind."

(OOC: I named our city Crescent, just for the hell of it.)

"So, have you been working for Thomas, long?"

Patricia Jackson didn't respond to the question immediately, not because she was ignoring Martha but because she was simply directing her full attention to the road. She had been in Crescent for two weeks already, studying the college town of over 150,000 people to be ready to do her job once The Family arrived, and yet she still felt as though she was a lost tourist passing through a town of a million. She didn't like being out of her element. She was a bit too obsessive -- anal, was the word that was often used -- about doing her job better than any of the others.

"Yes," was all she said in answer to Martha's question. When the prostitute asked how long, Patricia answered with a terse tone, "Long enough to know to keep that to myself."

The rest of the ride to the store passed in silence, and she knew that she'd offended Martha. It hadn't been Patricia's intent. She just ... well, she just wasn't a very social person. Many people thought it was just an aspect of her job: client confidentiality and all. But it wasn't. Patricia had had a rough life filled with back stabbing and abusive people, and she'd simply come to loath most of them.

At the store, she tried to make up for her earlier rudeness by answering Martha's occasional questions, such as Would Thomas like the spinach pasta or regular? or How many do I need to cook for, you know, besides the girls? But even then, her answers were usually just two or three words, and when she looked back on it later, she realized that half of her answers were nothing more than Yes or No.

When she pulled the SUV up behind the House, Patricia made one last ditch attempt to make up for her hard personality by telling Martha, "It was nice to get away. Thank you."

It wasn't much, but it was a lot more than most people got from her. She stood beside the SUV in a stiff, security stance, not offering to help with the bags as that would prevent her from being able to quickly pull one of the two small fire arms she carried should the need arise.



In the dining room, still standing before the closed basement door, Gregory watched the activity taking place there and in the adjacent kitchen. He wasn't sure whether to be surprised by the obvious command position Martha held in the House, despite being just one of the whores. Marla commanded everyone's respect, that was obvious; but Martha was the one who was running the show during dinner preps.

At one point, he saw Martha pull the madam aside and begin talking to her quietly. The relatively shorter blonde peeked his way at one point, only confirming his suspicion that they were talking about either the Security Team, The Family, or both. That didn't surprise him, of course. More than a dozen men and women had suddenly shown up and, with weapons in hand, taken control of a whore house. The only thing about that that would have surprised Gregory was if the residents of the House hadn't been whispering about the new residents.

Olga, who had once again sat down in the dining room to rest, stood to go to her room as per her Mother Hen's directions, but instead teetered a bit and was about to fall over.

Thomas caught her, easily swooping her up into his arms. The furious activity around the dining room came to a sudden stop at the man's equally sudden appearance. Behind him, one at a time, the other new occupants of the house emerged from the basement and headed in this direction or that. Some sat in the parlor, talking to one another or looking through the magazines that were there to keep the waiting clients occupied. Others went to the front or back porches, catching the cooling breeze that dusk was bringing to the neighborhood.

"I'll take her to her room," Thomas said to a wide eyed Marla, turning without waiting for a response from either the madam or the woman he was cradling against his chest. As he ascended the stairs, he told Olga, "You'll be fine tomorrow. You're not sick. You just need rest."

In the kitchen, Sugar -- who had stepped up behind Martha and grasped her elbow tightly to get the cook's attention -- whispered, "There's something unholy about that man. I can feel it. God save us."

"There's something unnatural about him, alright," Martha said, looking at Sugar with a look. "Now, run along and fetch the other girls. It's dinner time."

Thomas gave Olga's door a little kick, then entered and moved to her bed. He held her to his chest with one powerful arm as he pulled back her bedding with the other and laid her down.

"You need to rest," he said softly, pulling the sheet and one blanket over her delicious body which he conspicuously ogled. His lips spread in a devilish smirk as he said, "I'd ask to stay ... but it looks like last night might have been just a bit too much for you."



All about the first floor, the call went out that dinner was ready. Marla went to the back porch, the front porch, and then the parlor in between and invited each of the new residents to join them in the dining room. A second dinner table had been brought in from a back room: where there had once been just enough room for just the original 14 House residents, there was now enough seating for 26.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" Marla asked Gregory as she saw him and others from the Daytime Detail apparently preparing to depart. "We can set up TV trays in the--"

"Thank you, but no, Ma'am," he said politely. "Our shift is over. We'll be back at dawn."

He smiled politely, told the others to mount up, and a minute later the SUVs at the front and back both were heading away. She watched them disappear into the fading light, then turned quickly and headed for the basement door--

Only to find one of the men who had watched over her the night before standing before it with a Where do you think you're going? look in his eyes. She smiled politely to him, then went to her seat at the head of the table. She looked to the far end of the double-length seating area -- to the empty seat she'd had saved for their Protector -- and asked, "Where is Thomas?"

"Here," he said, stepping into the room at just that moment. He looked about, smiling to any and all who made eye contact with him, then looked to Martha and said, "I put Olga in bed, but she could use a plate."

He took the seat that had obviously been left for him, looked about the group one more time, then said in a tone that seemed part toast, part Grace, "May life shine on us all ... may we never need or want ... and ... may I have the gravy?"

Laughter circled the table...

Martha laughed and helped serve everyone, getting a plate ready to have someone take to Olga. She had set a small plate aside for herself, not very hungry herself. But she wanted to make sure everyone had a big, hearty meal, including the new protectors of the house. She smiled brilliantly as she sashayed around, making sure everyone had enough to eat and refilling things as they go.

Dinners such as the one taking place here were not a common part of the Family's life, and Thomas found himself intrigued by the interactions between his people and Marla's. Initially, most of the banter took place between members of the same groups: whores to whores, vampires to vampires.

But as the meal continued, the barriers came down. Soon, the conversation was almost a free for all, with stories and jokes and observations jumping all about the 21 people assembled.

And Thomas enjoyed every minute of it. The Family members hadn't had this feeling of camaraderie for quite awhile. They had had to abandon their previous digs suddenly, and for more than a year they had moved about all over the region, searching for a new home.

And finally, they'd found one.



About the time the dinner plates were being cleared and an assortment of desserts were being brought out on platters and in bowls, Crystal leaned close to Martha, sitting to her left, and whispered, "I want you ... now."

At that same time, Sugar was cornering Marla in the kitchen out of view of their guests, asking, "How can you trust them? They are ungodly people who--"

"Jesus, Sugar," the madam cut in. "Give it a rest. There's nothing evil about them. They're just..."

"Just what?" the wild haired prostitute asked. "Do you remember what he did to your foot?"

"We don't know that he did anything to may foot. They're just..." Marla searched for the words. "They're just a different version of Yuli, that's all. A better version of Yuli. Let it go."

The beautiful bible thumper stormed out of the kitchen, paused to glare at Thomas -- who met her gaze with an emotionless stare -- then headed off to her second floor room.

When Marla returned to the dining room, she also looked to the new Patriarch before sitting down and joining into the conversations, if for no other reason than to hide her own disturbing interest in the Protectors. She would have to learn more about them, but knowing that she would get no answers from Thomas or his Daytime Security, she would have to get it from one of the Family members...

(OOC: We need someone for her to interact with, sexually or not, male or female. Got any ideas? Going to bed.)

Martha looked over at Crystal and smiled. "And this time, I shall pleasure you, since I didn't get to last night," she whispered back. "Let me go clean up real quick. Go slip into my room."

She came in carrying a bowl of chocolate as Sugar and Marla had their discussion. "Quieter voices, please, we all now how sounds carry in this house," she murmured softly. She watched Sugar go off in a huff and she smiled. "She's concerned about us, she'll get over it. The more concern, the more she goes off with the Bible." She sighed to herself. She didn't particularly believe in God the way that Sugar did. She believed in a more spiritual, self guided approach to knowing what the universe holds. Plus, was there really only one God?

She came over and kissed Marla's cheek. "I'm turning in early, again. Got to be prepared for customers tomorrow," she told the Matriarch. "Good night, girls! Dream of horny things tonight!" she teased her friends and coworkers. "And Carla? Please make sure that Olga is resting well and remove her plate from the room. I don't want to clean out vermin again." She nodded at Thomas and smiled politely before saying, "Good night to you and your detail, Thomas."

She made her way to her first floor room and shut the door. Seeing Crystal already on her bed, she smiled and pulled the curtains shut and the lights out. "Now, let me make love to you, if you'll allow it," she told her new playmate, shedding her clothes quickly and sliding into bed before kissing her with passionate abandon.



Charles watched the Mistress of the House with great interest. He certainly liked the way she looked, and was appalled by his comrade's behavior the night before with that. A former military man, he believed in upholding a more stricter version of self control. It made him the perfect Vampire.

Smiling politely at her when she caught his eye, he inched his chair closer to hers. "Charles," he rumbled. "One of Mister Thomas's bodyguards. And you are absolutely beautiful." He took her hand in his and gently kissed it, inhaling her delicious scent. Her hand was soft and warm, and his brown eyes twinkled. "I would like to apologize for my comrade's behavior last night. Sometimes, a young man sees a beautiful woman, and rather powerful urges take over," he added. As one of the older Children at fifty years of vampiric life, he had a lot more self control than even an older Mortal man would have. "Perhaps I can indulge you in someway, now that your favorite girl has gone to bed?" he teased softly. He had seen both Martha and Crystal talking, and then take off for Martha's bedroom. He chuckled, and wondered why Crystal hadn't fed on Martha the night before. It could be that Crystal was developing feelings for the young whore, and Charles didn't have a hard time seeing why. But he always valued an older woman, someone with more experience behind, and the Madam was attractive in a very womanly kind of way. He absently wondered if he should bed the Madam, but figured he could if he wanted to, especially since Thomas wanted to know about everyone in the House a bit more intimately. What about getting down in the sack?

"And this time, I shall pleasure you..."

Martha's words sent goose flesh all up and down Crystal's body. She leaned in close, wanting to kiss the cute blond, then hesitated. She glanced toward Thomas and found him staring at her with a bit of a knowing smirk. He knew about her encounter the evening before with the prostitute: the Family members didn't keep such secrets. But she didn't know whether it was supposed to be a secret amongst the other whores, so she pulled back and simply said with a wide smile, "I will let you."

Of course, secrets weren't kept very easily within the House, either, and while Crystal might not have known it, most of the other eight prostitutes -- as well as their madam -- were well aware of the ecstasy that had occurred the night before down here on the main floor.

Martha retrieve yet more dessert as Crystal applauded the food and casually made her escape to the other room. A vampire sitting on the front porch providing security, what with the Daylight Team's departure, heard her coming and casually looked over his shoulder to smile to her.

"Enjoy yourself," he said knowingly, before adding, "Did you remember to ask Thomas?"

He didn't have to say what Crystal was supposed to have asked. She knew. Thomas had made it clear before the Family arrived that they needed permission to feed upon the House's residents. The Patriarch had intricate, long term plans for the House and its occupants, and he didn't want one of his Children's lust -- for pleasure or blood or both -- to put that in danger.

"I'm not doing that," Crystal said, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that no one was eavesdropping. When she saw her Brother in Blood smile broadly, she laughed and said, "And yes, I am doing that."

"You're making me hard."

She laughed loudly as she turned away toward Martha's bedroom, saying back to him, "You got hands. Deal with it."



In the kitchen, Martha told her madam, "I'm turning in early, again. Got to be prepared for customers tomorrow."

"Don't be," Marla said, reaching out to grasp her favorite's wrist before she could walk away. Just as Crystal had, the madam looked toward the other room for eager ears before saying quietly, "Take another night off."

She casually lifted her hand before her with her thumb pressed to her index finger, then let them flick off one another in a silent, snapping-like gesture. It was a secret signal amongst the whores that a prostitute was to give a performance or otherwise serve without concern for compensation from the client, compensation that would come from the House's reserves itself.

Occasionally over the years, Marla and Yuli -- who had actually initiated the little gesture -- had found it worthwhile to serve someone gratis. It was usually a cop or other authority figure who was threatening the House's future, though sometimes it was a person unconnected with the law from whom Marla or Yuli simply wanted something.

She leaned in closer to Martha and asked, "Do you think you can learn more about these people from your new friend?"



Crystal looked about Martha's room for a minute or two as she waited, intrigued by what she saw. The space had such a personal touch to it. Crystal had assumed that the prostitute did her business here, as well as reside here. But she also knew, from the discussion the Family had had before arriving here, that the House's entire second floor was nothing but work rooms. The majority of the whores had their own personal spaces here on the first, while Marla, Olga, and one other prostitute lived on the third.

Crystal hoped that Martha did no work here. She hoped that this space was Martha's and Martha's alone. She hoped this because she wanted to share it with the blonde, with the blonde and no one else.

Crystal was already making plans in her mind with Martha. In her mind, Martha -- the whore, who parted her thighs and opened her mouth for a different man every night -- was already her girl friend. Despite her century of life as a vampire and her twenty years as a mortal before that, Crystal had never learned to fight off her impetuous nature. She jumped into the waters head first often, without ever knowing whether those waters were deep and safe. It was simply who she was and, for possibly decades and centuries to come, she knew it would be who she remained.

She heard -- or sensed, more than anything -- Martha's steps in the hallway and without hesitation, stripped off her outer clothing and moved to stand by the bed. She hesitated, striking a sexy pose, wanting to impress the young woman coming to her. Then, she quickly stripped out of her bra and panties and leaped into the bed. More than wanting to impress Martha with her erotic pose, she wanted to be ready to enjoy her girl friend's touch.

Martha smiled as she entered, pulled the curtains shut, and switched the lights out. "Now, let me make love to you, if you'll allow it."

"I will," Crystal purred as the two intertwined and began kissing passionately.



Marla had, of course, noticed the attention she was getting from the oldest of Thomas's people. He was a striking man in his late 30s, maybe 40s. The madam was usually very good about judging ages, like one of those men at the traveling Carnival Midway. But there was something about this man, whose name she had learned earlier was Charles, that left her unsure.

That of which she was sure was that the man had an interest in her. Most men's interest in Marla was, of course, in parting her legs, so she showed no discomfort or surprise in his study of her.

The madam didn't take new clients without having known them for some time or, as was the case with Thomas, having had them referred to her by someone she trusted. (That, of course, had turned out a bit differently than Marla had expected!) But this new arrangement was quickly becoming odd, and she wanted to know more about Thomas, his people, and what their plan for the House was. And Marla would have bet the entire house and her stable of girls that Thomas wasn't going to divulge such information anytime soon.

Perhaps getting close to one of his people might be a good idea.

"Charles," he rumbled when she returned from the kitchen to her chair. "One of Mister Thomas's bodyguards. And you are absolutely beautiful."

As he took her hand in his and gently kissed it, Marla's smile widened. Men flattered her with such lines often, with a single minded purpose, of course. But hearing those words from this man was a bit of a joy. It was not just because she wanted information from him, and, therefore, his appreciation for her might help her learn what she needed.

No, there was something about this man what truly intrigued Marla. Of course, she knew what it was: his maturity. She had already noticed that the rest of Thomas's male comrades -- including Thomas himself -- were younger than this man. Marla appreciated a man with life experiences. Knowledge is king, of course, and knowledge -- and experience, in many a thing -- came with age.

She didn't know, of course, that Thomas -- despite appearing younger by a decade or so -- was actually a hundred years older than Charles. Nor did she she know that because of his advanced though unnoticeable age, Charles had more experience and knowledge than she could possibly imagine!

Her response to his flattery was sweet and simple. "Thank you sir, you are a delight to look upon as well."

"I would like to apologize for my comrade's behavior last night. Sometimes, a young man sees a beautiful woman, and rather powerful urges take over."

She smiled broader, responding, "Yes. I seem to recall having my hair pulled by the boys in pre school."

They laughed together, and Marla took a quick moment to glance in Thomas's direction. He was staring at her with a broad smile. He seemed ... pleased that she had found someone with whom to talk after having spent most of the dinner in meaningless, idle chit chat.

"Perhaps I can indulge you in some way," Charles went on, "now that your favorite girl has gone to bed?"

Marla's lips spread in a knowing smirk as she stared deeply into his eyes. She glanced away again to Thomas, this time finding him in conversation with one of the whores; then looked about the table to see if anyone else was paying the pair her and Charles any attention, which they didn't seem to be doing.

Looking back to him, she leaned in close and, under the table out of view, laid a hand upon his knee. As she talked in a whisper so soft that even Charles just barely heard her, she slowly slid her long fingers up his thigh until finally their tips were just inches away from his crotch. "I would love to be ... indulged, Charles. But ... what would your Master there think if the lady of the house was to sneak off to the dark with one of his men?"

Marla had, of course, heard one of the vampires refer to Thomas as Master the night before, while she was bleeding on the carpet. She had often been called Mistress here in the House, usually by her regular clients who had more fun with her when she had a whip in one hand and a butt plug in the other.

She didn't have a clue as to what the nature of the title meant for Thomas. She couldn't have known, of course, that he and his people were vampires. The miraculous repair of her foot intrigued everyone, but it never occurred to the madam how he had treated her because -- obviously -- vampires were a fantasy.

What ever the social connection between Thomas and his men and women was, Marla was eager to find out. And if she had to fuck one of the Family members to find out more, well ... Charles was the man she wouldn't have picked out even before he made his appreciation for her so obvious.

After a final glance at Thomas, she looked back to Charles with a devilish smirk and said bluntly, "Fuck it. Come to my room later. We'll have a brandy ... maybe some of my girl's hand crafted chocolate ... and ... maybe we'll indulge one another."

A loud laugh tore Marla's eyes away from the handsome man, and suddenly the table exploded in several minutes worth of dirty jokes and sordid remembrances of past experiences within the house.

"Let's put this food away," Marla eventually said, patting Charles on the thigh once more under the table before standing to help her girls. "Alcohol in the parlor for any who indulge. Smokers to the porch if any still exist in this day and age."



In the back corner of the House's first floor, Crystal's firm breasts were rising and falling rapidly, her hips rocking up and down eagerly, as Martha pleasured her in a way she'd almost forgotten could be done. She grasped a handful of hair and held the blonde in place down below, as if afraid she would stop before her body exploded in ecstasy.

"Yes, oh god yes ... yes...!"" she murmured almost continuously as the very skilled young woman drove her quickly toward climax. When she was just short of cumming, she instructed Martha, "Slower, my love! I want ... oh god, I want..."

She was trying to explain that she wanted this to last, to last forever if that was at all possible. It simply shocked her at how good this young woman was making her feel. She seemed to know exactly what buttons to push -- particularly, that button -- to cause the pleasure to simply envelope her entire being.

Despite wanting the feeling to continue forever, her climax arrived. The pleasure originating between her thighs exploded through her body. As she screamed out, her back arched, her thighs clamped almost fiercely about her lover's head, and her skin erupted in goose flesh. Her breathing stopped for a long moment as the euphoria took control of her, then she gasped, held her breath again, gasped, and repeated.

She had no idea how long she was lost to the overwhelming feeling, but later -- when she and Martha would laugh about Crystal's cries shaking the walls -- she would learn that she had been in an extended sexual orgasm that had lasted almost a full minute. She would blush before Martha, embarrassed as having lost control of herself for such a relatively long time.

As they laid in one another's arms, holding the other tightly, arms and legs and bodies entangled, Crystal realized that she had found heaven here with the whore.

Whore... Martha was a whore. What does that mean for us? the in love vampire wondered as she pressed her mouth to the younger woman's neck. Her long nailed fingers dug into Martha's skin, keeping her in place, as if she was fearful that the woman would stand and hold her hand out for the money she'd earned.

No, they weren't like that. Crystal knew that. But ... what were they? Too early or not, Crystal was infatuated, hooked, dedicated, what ever words you wanted to apply to her feeling for the blonde in her arms. She wondered whether she would be able to bear having her new love servicing strange men. She knew that she couldn't bear that happening here, in her and Martha's bed.

"Do you work in this room?" she whispered to Martha, needing to know at least that much about her girl friend. "Or is this your space ... our space?"

She waited for Martha's response, then rolled the girl to her back and moved down her a bit, kissing at the fair skin of her clavicle, her breasts, her belly. She returned upwards, kissing her lover's lips passionately until--

Crystal pulled her face back quickly, staring deeply into Martha's eyes for a long moment. She sat up, her haunches on her knees as she looked down upon the whore with a deeply concerned expression. She reached a hand out and pressed it over Martha's heart, telling her with a serious tone, "Be still."

After a minute or so of nothing but silence and stillness, Crystal grasped her lover's hand and pulled her up into her arms. With one hand clutching their bodies close together, she pressed the other hand hard against Martha's temple, forcing the blonde's head into her chest as she repeated, "Be still."

Yet another minute or two passed in this awkward pose before Crystal suddenly pulled away from her lover and moved to stand in the middle of the room, her back to Martha. When she turned back to the prostitute, tears were streaming down her face and dropping to her pert breasts.

Martha reacted as one would have expected, to which Crystal -- suddenly sobbing -- stormed out of the room. Seeming unconcerned with being naked and looking like a horse that had been ridden hard and put away wet, she passed by a dozen set of eyes in the parlor to latch onto Thomas and pull him from his seat in the dining room. "Come with me, Father."

She drug him down the hallway, then turned and clutched as tightly to him as she had her new lover, sobbing so loud that her cries brought several of her Blood Siblings into the room with concern. After a long moment of deep emotion, she was finally able to manage, "She's going to die. Oh god, Father ... she's going to die!"

Thomas swept Crystal up into his arms and headed for and up the stairs, easily taking them two at a time. Behind him, his Children did what they could to reassure the long time residents of the House that all was well. Crystal, like themselves, were able to sense health problems within others. It was part of their nature and the reason they had survived and thrived for so many centuries.

Without hearing an explanation from their Sister, the vampires knew that she has sensed something tragic in her new friend's future. All they could do now, however, was try to make the others forget what they had just seen and get back to the evening's enjoyment.