Night Lust – Nightkind Part 2

Night Lust

By Smokedawg

This is Part 2 of the “Nightkind” series (click here for a full list of current stories in the series). (Part 1 was “Night Kiss”)

Also, before you read on, let me acknowledge the huge debt I owe for many inspirations here to Octavia E. Butler’s novel “Fledgling” as well as other novels and stories with vampire-like beings, such as Jim Butcher’s “Dresden Files” series and Clive Barker’s “Cabal.”
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In another era and place, Mariah might have stalked her quarry on foot, using the stealth and speed of her species. But this was the 21st century, and hunting in a Mercedes with someone else to do the driving was far more comfortable.

One thing that hadn’t changed was hunting at night. Bad enough to have been caught out in the morning sun nearly two days ago when she had first caught sight of the woman—even the sunglasses hadn’t been enough to keep that damnable ultraviolet wavelength from striking her half-blind, as well as giving her a monstrous headache and making her sluggish and clumsy as it fucked up her entire metabolism. But all that discomfort would be worth it if that woman she had spied that morning turned out to be what she seemed.

It had been four days she had snared Joshua as her newest thrall, and the pickings had been slim since then in her hunts. If she had just been looking for a simple snack, it would have been easy. But she needed to gather to herself more enthralled humans so that she could set up each of her twin children with coteries from which to gain sustenance and strength and still have thralls of her own once they left the estate.

But not just any human could do. Feeding one of the Nightkind, by giving up a little blood every night or two along with one’s thrallmates—even with a Nightkind’s Balm running through the thrall’s veins to spur on the regeneration of blood cells—required more than just being a warm body. Not everyone had blood good enough to sustain a Nightkind; not everyone had the metabolism and chemistry to properly accept thralldom for the long term.

And besides that, not everyone tasted good enough for Mariah, nor provided the other things she needed, like competence, passion and emotional balance.

And if someone wasn’t good enough for her, Mariah certainly wasn’t going to foist such a reject on one of her children, much less keep the human herself. A snack in a pinch while away from her thralls, perhaps. But not for keeping.

Ah, but this young woman she had spied two mornings ago, probably no more than few years out of college, smelled of someone who might provide not just three or four decades of sustenance and companionship but perhaps even 50 years or more. She seemed to have the right biochemistry from what Mariah had sensed. And it didn’t hurt that she had a cute face, tight body and a succulent little ass.

Since Mariah had been half incapacitated by daylight when she first spied the woman—out too late trying to find potential thralls, damn it—she’d had to put a couple of her thralls on the task of tracking her down again instead of simply pursuing the woman immediately. It wasn’t exactly time wasted, but Mariah could scarcely afford to lose any time at all. Of her twin children, Matthew was the most problematic, but both of them had to be out of her home soon before chaos ensued among her thralls. Too many pheromones. Too many threads of psychic energy.

Mariah needed at least three more new thralls for herself, in addition to Joshua, to replace the three or four existing thralls that she would give up to her daughter. She needed at least another six or seven in addition to that to round out Daria’s initial coterie. And she needed to find at least nine fresh thralls for Matthew, since only one member of her current coterie would be suited to the rough treatment her son would probably inflict—mentally if not physically. Finding suitably nutritious and submissive or masochistic types to meet Matthew’s needs was going to be a daunting task.

So in the midst of all the chaos and stress, this new find, this woman named Lydia Scott, was a welcome one.

And so it was with no small amount of dismay when, as Mariah’s driver came close to where Lydia was strolling down the street, heading toward an upscale tavern, another woman joined Lydia.

Shit, Mariah swore to herself, ensnaring more than one human at a time was too much work. She didn’t have the time to waste on an effort that might fail, with the distractions of an extra person. And if she couldn’t snare Lydia tonight, she might have to give up the chase entirely to keep on schedule with finding new blood.

Then, as she struggled with the decision to tell her driver to move on, Mariah felt it.

Something like a thrumming in the psychic airwaves. As this new woman approached Lydia, the emanations began to reach a crescendo. Deep, throbbing waves of connection.

The two young women clearly had an intense psychic connection, though neither likely realized it, Mariah considered. They weren’t siblings; that much was clear to Mariah. But they were deeply connected, emotionally and otherwise. They were that rare pair that humans liked to call soulmates. They might be lovers but probably not—something Mariah was now committed to changing for them—and for herself.

Mariah could in no way pass up this opportunity, no matter how stressful juggling both women during the seduction would be. With the connection they already had, she could pair-bond them once they were thralls. They could act almost as a single being of considerable psychic power that way, and give Mariah a focus for her own mental abilities when needed.

Yet despite the imperative to gain them both, there were challenges, among them Mariah’s own appearance. She was pretty, but pale-skinned, almost gray-white, with glistening black lips. With those goth-like looks, she would be instantly out of place in the establishment the women were entering. Not to mention the “No Smoking” sign near the door, which meant Mariah would be deprived of one of her most potent tools: cigarette smoke to efficiently carry her pheromones to both of her prey.

“Annette, do you perceive my problem?” Mariah asked her driver, a woman who also served as one of her existing thralls, at least until she bequeathed the woman to Daria in the coming few weeks or months.

“I do mistress. You cannot smoke. But it’s a fairly posh place and you have plenty of money to go with your name. I could secure a private room upstairs, I’d wager.”

Mariah smiled, as much at her thrall’s initiative as the fact that she hadn’t yet discerned the second part of her mistress’ dilemma, nor the intimate way she would help solve it. “Yes, do that. But I have another problem, and I’ll need you to help me kiss my way out of it.”

In the reflection of the rearview mirror, Mariah saw her driver flush, and her keen ears picked up the woman’s slight gasp. It was going to mean a huge crash for Annette several hours from now, and probably an entire day helpless in bed. But at the same time, the woman was becoming aroused and eager for both the special intimacy and the biochemical high she was about to enjoy.

The Kiss of the Nightkind was a clear, sticky secretion of the lips that rendered humans highly aroused and psychologically pliable. To blend in at all in that tavern, Mariah needed to cover the natural black of her lips with plenty of lipstick, but the Kiss would break down any lip covering quickly. Unless Mariah expended her Kiss, exhausted it for a time. That wouldn’t last long, but she only needed a short time to get close to the women and then lead them to the private room that Annette would secure for her.

So there, inside the car, Mariah kissed her driver deeply and hard. It was fierce coupling of their lips. The mistress pushed her Kiss into Annette’s own lips and mouth, saturating her with the neurochemicals Mariah produced. Annette’s own lips because increasingly slick and sticky with the Kiss, even as she licked them and swallowed down all that Mariah offered. The thrall’s body shivered and flushed against Mariah’s own. Her nipples became long, hard little things, like marble spikes. It was a kiss that lasted at least five minutes and would leave Annette high as a kite for hours. And this was a maneuver not without risks, as her driver would be in such a pliable state of mind that even if a mere human demanded she do something, she might comply without thinking.

“Annette, I must prepare now. Secure the room for me. Quickly. Then come straight back to the car. Lock the doors. Think of nothing but me and frig your cunnie until you can think straight again, and wait for me. Those are my commands. Do not disappoint me.”

The driver’s eyes were too bright, almost manic, but Mariah saw recognition and assent in there as well.

“As you say, mistress.”

Annette was off in a flash, and Mariah fished out a small travel case, then worked quickly in the back seat to apply a thick layer of crimson lipstick on her now dull-black lips, followed by a bright gloss. There was no time to powder or blush her skin. In the dim lights of the tavern, she could only hope her pale skin wouldn’t draw too much attention. And then she, too was off with speed of purpose. Incredibly, Annette was already heading back to the Mercedes as Mariah approached the building, a testament to her dedication and efficiency—she would be missed, but Mariah was comforted to know she would serve Daria well. A glance between them confirmed for Mariah that a room was ready, and as she entered the tavern, she confirmed with the host where she could find it, then stressed her need for total privacy in there except for anyone who used her name to ask about the room. A few hundred dollar bills slipped into his hand would help ensure that no one else would be there.

The pair of women she sought were at the bar, comfortably close to one another, chatting amiably. Intimate in a way that was in some ways deeper than sexual, Mariah noted, but sex would certainly improve upon what was already there.

If I can snare them both, this will be a night to remember and celebrate for years to come.

As she approached, Mariah took stock of Lydia’s friend. The other woman was not as definitively attractive; in fact, she was only a fraction cuter than average, and maybe 10 pounds heavier than Mariah preferred, though still relatively fit. But she had gorgeous gray eyes and full lips, and her hair hung in dense blonde curls past her shoulders, a strong contrast to Lydia’s short black bob-style cut.

Lydia’s companion also didn’t smell quite as delectable. Her blood smelled good, certainly, but not the prime stuff Lydia possessed. Then again, that meant Lydia’s friend would likely be more susceptible to Mariah’s pheromones, and she needed all the edge she could get until she could get the two of them alone.

With all the grace that her Nightkind body and nearly seven decades of practice had granted her, Mariah slipped between the women to call for the bartender. She turned toward Mariah’s friend and exhaled. Cigarette smoke would have carried forth a greater concentration of pheromones from her breath, but still, one made do with what one had. She smiled with her glossy red lips, feigning an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry to jostle you,” Mariah said, leaning in closer to the woman’s face, tilting her head and exhaling desire and longing in the wake of her breath. “Such a busy place.”

She saw the dilation of the woman’s pupils as the pheromones began to take hold a bit, and pursed her lips, blowing gently in her face again for good measure.

“That’s OK,” the woman said, shaking her head a little.

“Thanks for being so sweet,” Mariah said, leaning in a fraction closer, exhaling heavily, and then suddenly turning toward Lydia, quickly drawing a finger across her tongue as she did to coat it with Balm. Although the Balm from her fangs and saliva was intended mainly to facilitate feeding and the healing of the human who  provided the meal, it was also loaded with arousal pheromones similar to those in her Kiss. “Sorry to interrupt you and your friend, here,” she told Lydia, “I hope you can forgive me.”

Though the intention of the little speech was in part to give Lydia a good inhalation of pheromones, the ruse also distracted her attention so that Mariah could slide a finger around the edge of the woman’s glass, coating it with Balm.

The pheromones in the air would be enough to keep both ladies off-kilter and reluctant to take offense at Mariah being between them but still, she backed away just a little to give them some space, and to let Lydia take a drink from the tainted glass. Mariah pretended to sip at her own drink  until Lydia once again tasted her own, and was gratified to her the subtle sigh seconds later as she did. A trace of glossy Kiss lingered on Lydia’s lips, but would be absorbed into her bloodstream soon enough.

Mariah stepped over to Lydia’s blonde friend and leaned in close, as it to make herself heard. Surreptitiously, she quickly licked the woman’s neck and said with a slightly exaggerated breathiness, “Do you mind if I join the two of you? I’m feeling a bit adrift here with my friends having gone off without me.” With that, she turned to face Lydia again and pretended to take another sip of her drink, which subtly encouraged the woman to take another taste of her own, giving her more exposure to the Balm on the lip of the glass.

“I was just asking your friend if I could join you,” Mariah said, leaning toward Lydia’s face and locking eyes with her. “Would that be all right?”

Almost in unison, both women uttered a somewhat distracted and confused, “Sure.”

Mariah hovered near them for several minutes, mostly letting them talk to each other, though both were becoming increasingly fidgety and distracted. Their connection to each other remained strong, but their words were increasingly disjointed and their thoughts scattered, and they giggled at the unfamiliar level of verbal confusion they were experiencing with each other—as well as the simmering arousal.

Lydia almost touched her sex though her pants, then suddenly recovered herself and put her hand to her throat instead, where it wandered down to one breast, briefly brushing one of her own nipples and eliciting a sigh. Her blonde friend watched, enraptured and not entirely aware of what had happened, though she shifted in her barstool a bit, grinding her sex subtly against the leather. She was wearing a short skirt, and thin panties, and Mariah’s enhanced senses couldn’t miss the slight sheen of the woman’s juices on her panties and the stool, nor the delicious scent that went with them.

Mariah pressed close once more, leaning into Lydia’s face and brushing her lips against Lydia’s own quickly. The Kiss had begun to reassert itself, and she could feel the slick stickiness returning there. As Mariah pulled back slightly, Lydia licked the Kiss from her lips absently and suddenly stared at Mariah.

“Your lips,” she said breathlessly, quietly. “What’s happening?”

Mariah knew the red lipstick must be fading now, being dissolved and absorbed to reveal the glossy black of her natural lips.

“Really? Something’s happening?” Mariah prompted, hoping to engage Lydia’s attention more deeply.

“Yeeahhh. They’re getting…”

“More lovely?” Mariah suggested.

“Darker…”

“And more luscious.”

“So daaaark,” she whispered.

“And more desirable?”

“Yessss.”

Mariah kissed her quickly and hard, then pressed her forehead to Lydia’s and nuzzled her head for a moment, sliding her mouth over to one ear. “I have a private room upstairs. I’m going there. Ask the host up front where Mariah Beidart’s reserved room is. Come to it. Bring your friend,” she hissed, a hand squeezing one of Lydia’s thighs gently but insistently.

With that, she released the dark-haired woman and then turned to Lydia’s blonde friend. She blew lightly in the woman’s direction and said simply. “Lydia has a suggestion for you. I think you’ll find that her judgment is sound.”

And Mariah strode away, slowly, catlike, with a sway of her ass that she was certain both women would see, and assume was for them and them alone. When she got to the room upstairs, she set down her handbag, fished out her cigarettes and lighter, and quickly hunted down a shallow glass dish to put her ashes into. It was unlikely anyone outside the room would smell the smoke anytime soon once she finally began to indulge, and even if they did, her money would make the management reluctant to chastise her or kick her out—at least not before she had been there long enough to do what was needed.

She sat there for five minutes, worrying that her gambit might have failed. But it was too hard to ensnare two people at once in a crowd. She needed the full force of her pheromones and no psychic distractions. That required privacy and, ideally, smoke. All she could do was hope she had planted enough interest and pushed home her suggestions enough for them to come to her together.

She placed a cigarette in her mouth, toying with it a bit and letting the secretions from her lips leech into the filter.

Worrying too much about the women would be counterproductive. Though Mariah’s mental powers were far weaker than a male of the Nightkind—a female’s strengths being mostly biochemical—they were strong enough that if she had negative feelings around these two women, they might never enter the room at all, feeling the discord in their own minds and possibly perceiving it as a threat. Which from their perspectives, it would be, if they knew what Mariah had in mind for them—though to her mind, it would be a better existence for them to serve her needs than to live as they were doing now. Even thinking arousing or positive thoughts about them might be dangerous, since she was trying to push them to a bisexual existence that they might otherwise shun. They probably already had internal stresses brewing around that idea, particularly after Mariah’s own quick affections with them, and she didn’t need too many confusing thoughts along those lines in their heads, at least not until she had firmly set her hooks in them.

So, instead, she pondered other problems in her life that had nothing to do with the women. Like that Wolvren male that Mariah had noticed shadowing her last night. She hadn’t done anything that would offend that bestial-tempered species, though, so she wasn’t sure what that was all about. And even though some Nightkind used Wolvren as hired muscle, she hadn’t had enough direct dealings with her own kind over the past decade or two to offend one of them, either. He might have been an agent of Frederic’s, as even that selfish prick might have taken note that his twin children were of age, and perhaps he had some curiosity as to what Mariah and they were up to. In any case, being furtively pursued at all, for any reason, unnerved her.

Another five minutes passed, and Maria’s heart began to sink. Once again, she tried to divert her worries, this time to Joshua. Only four days a thrall to her, and already showing much promise. He’d embraced his thrallmates well and they mostly were receptive to him. The two who weren’t so accepting were likely going to be passed on to Daria anyway, so no loss there. He had turned out to have accounting and business consulting experience, which would be welcome skills to add to the household. The only worry she had was his psychic receptivity. It was keen enough that she could sometimes steer him slightly by thought alone, which would have been useful if her son Matthew wasn’t still in the house and coming fully of age. The psychic probing Matthew kept sending out sowed enough discord in the house. To have one of the thralls that she wanted to keep for herself be open to such things posed the risk that Matthew might mentally overpower Joshua and snare him for his own coterie. That unpleasant prospect was part of what was driving Mariah’s ever more fierceful search for new thralls to hand over to her twins so she could send them out of the nest.

And still another five minutes. She’d thrown the dice, and apparently came up craps. She’d wait another five or 10 minutes perhaps, then…

Suddenly, the door opened a crack, with a pair of tentative voices calling out, “Hello?”

Mariah smiled, placed her unlit cigarette down, admired the glossy sheen of her Kiss upon the filter, and licked her lips. “Please come in,” she said. “I have some champagne here and I’d hate to be alone right now.”

The brunette and blonde entered together, and Lydia shut the door.

Mariah approached her with a glass of bubbly, and smiled. The woman’s gaze was locked on her glistening black lips. “I’d hate for some of the rude men I noticed downstairs to happen in here,” Mariah told her. “Could you lock the door?”

Without hesitation, Lydia did so, and Mariah led her to a large leather sofa, with the blonde companion following uncertainly in Lydia’s wake. With a start, Mariah noticed the scent that had just reached her and realized why they had taken so long. The blonde had experienced an orgasm recently. A rather violent cum, it seemed. Mariah grinned. The minx must have had to make a side trip to the restroom to relieve her pent up arousal from Mariah’s pheromones. So far, so good, then.

Mariah handed a glass of champagne to Lydia’s blonde “soulmate” as well and then sat down in the middle of the sofa, stroking her palms across the supple gray leather. Both women took the hint, whether they realized one was being given or not, and sat on either side of Mariah.

“Is anyone else going to be here?” Lydia asked, a tremor of concern tickling at the back of her mind. “Are you having some kind of party?”

Mariah laid her soft, pale hand atop one of Lydia’s own and smiled disarmingly. “We won’t be alone much longer, but there’s no need to rush to meet a bunch of new people when you’ve only just met me, is there?”

She felt Lydia relax a bit at the suggestions. “No, no rush at all.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mariah saw the blonde woman nod slightly in agreement, though her gaze was unfocused as she sipped at her champagne. Mariah slowly reached forward, and pulled both cigarette and lighter to her face with a sensual grace. As she touched the filter to her lower lip, she said, “You don’t mind if I smoke.”

It wasn’t really a question, but an assertion, and Lydia responded with a simple “Not at all,” though a flicker of confusion danced across her face as she said the words.

Mariah wasn’t at all surprised when the blonde echoed Lydia with a quiet, “That’s fine.” Few relationships, even close and healthy ones, were truly a pairing of equals, and it had become clear that the blonde was used to following her dark-haired friend’s lead.

Mariah lit her cigarette, leaned back on the sofa and exhaled slowly. She didn’t want to blow the smoke away from them, but rather wanted it to gather and drift in a cloud around them. As the wispy tendrils of white and gray began to swirl around her, she inhaled again and repeated. She was aware that both Lydia and the blonde were focused on her, though she pretended not to notice.

“Isn’t this a non-smo…”

“Life is too short to ignore pleasant indulgences,” Mariah interrupted Lydia. “A little decadence is important, don’t you think?”

“I suppose…”

“Have you ever smoked yourself, Lydia?” Mariah asked. If the woman was surprised that her name was known, even though she had never offered it, she gave no indication. Mariah inhaled again, and blew a thick stream of smoke just past Lydia’s face. The woman’s head turned slightly to follow the course of the smoke, the pheromones in the hazy air befuddling her mind and lowering her inhibitions, as well as those of her friend at Mariah’s right hand.

“I used to,” she answered dreamily. “I quit, though.”

“A shame,” Mariah responded. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Sometimes,” she said, her voice becoming subtly more husky and her hips shifting on the couch. “I sometimes get the urge.”

“Well, then, let this be a night of rediscovery,” Mariah said. She inhaled quickly but deeply, leaned toward Lydia and slowly exhaled onto the woman’s chest. Lydia’s gaze dropped downward in fascination as the smoke pooled around her bosom and rose toward her face, and then Mariah gently set the filter of the cigarette on the woman’s luscious, sepia-painted lower lip. The lips closed around the filter and Lydia inhaled deeply. Mariah released the cigarette as Lydia’s lips firmly embraced it.

“Let it also be a night of new discoveries,” Mariah continued, as she leaned back against the sofa again to watch Lydia’s delicate burgundy-nailed fingers take charge of the cigarette. The woman exhaled her first smoke in years and with the sound of that exhaled smoke came a deep gasp. The Kiss on the filter would not only seep into her lips, but the smoke would bind to the gloss inside and around the filter to carry Mariah’s pheromones into the woman’s lungs.

Mariah would need to do nothing more to encourage the renewed interest in smoking. Lydia’s initial arousal—along with the continued saturation of her system by Mariah’s pheromones and her own desire to try smoking again—would keep her fixated on the cigarette. Mariah stood up slowly, stepped around the blonde and sat at the end of the couch, on the other side of her so that she would have an unobstructed view of her smoking friend.

“Isn’t that fascinating?” she whispered in the blonde’s ear, her glistening ebony lips brushing against the lobe. “She makes it look so sexy, doesn’t she?”

Mariah put one arm around the woman and gently nudged her a few inches toward Lydia, maneuvering her to face her friend, who was so intent on indulging in the pheromone-laden smoke that she scarcely noticed anything else.

Knowing that Lydia’s exhales would not produce a very well-drugged exhale, with the pheromones binding to her lungs almost instantly, Mariah casually reached to the low table in front of the sofa to grab the lighter and another cigarette. Before she lit up, though, she laid her palms on the blonde’s shoulders and massaged them lightly.

“Lydia is so beautiful, isn’t she?” Mariah said.

“Yes,” the woman answered, a clear note of discovery ringing in her quiet response. She shuddered as she heard the lighter click behind her, and moaned ever so slightly as Mariah’s cloud drifted across the back of her neck and curled up into her face. Mariah nudged the blonde slightly and she moved still closer to Lydia.

For the first time, Lydia noticed the two of them again, and she titled her head, her dark eyes locking on her friend’s bright gray ones. Her lips parted slightly. How much of the gloss there was Mariah’s own Kiss and how much was Lydia’s lip gloss was hard to tell, but a tiny thread of stickiness hung there between the lips before it broke and Lydia said, “Let me share. Oh god…”

She inhaled, and then blew the smoke into the blonde’s face. Mariah knew it wouldn’t have the effect that Lydia was hoping to share, so she let loose a double-pumped exhale from behind the blonde to load the air with arousal chemicals and then leaned in close to kiss the woman’s throat firmly. A long, lingering press of her lips that would send Kiss through the skin and into the veins of her neck, and worm desire and obedience deep into her brain.

“Look at Lydia,” Mariah urged, exhaling another cloud of smoke that to the blonde’s nose seemed almost more like a perfume or incense now. Something sweet and spicy, like gingerbread and musk. “Look at her. Look at the smoke as it swirls. Twists and curls of white. Filling the air, filling your heart.”

“Yeahhh.”

“Let yourself be lost in those curls, sweet one. Just like so many boys have been lost in the curls of your hair as you kiss them,” Mariah whispered, the hand with her cigarette settling under one of the woman’s breasts and lightly massaging there. “Breathe in our smoke and lose yourself. Lydia is yours. You are hers. Both of you are mine. Beautiful smoke. Ivory coils of desire. Wispy chains to bind your heart and mind with decadent passion.”

Mariah’s finger flicked against the blonde’s nipple as Lydia and Mariah both exhaled, and she sucked the smoke deep. Her hips began to buck, suddenly and fiercely, a small and fluttering orgasm. Mariah guided the blonde’s lips to Lydia’s, and pulled the cigarette from the dark-haired woman’s hand, setting it down on the dish. The two woman kissed deeply, losing themselves and forgetting that Mariah was even there.

All the better for her to stand so that she could pull down her pants and panties. Normally, she preferred to show her dominance over new thralls by feeding a little on them lightly and leisurely, but she also wanted them to enjoy her Ambrosia soon, too. With a pair to manage at once, the sooner they were locked to her will, the better.

Blonde curls tangled with Lydia’s straight black bob as the women began to kiss more passionately, sucking on each other’s necks, sucking on each other’s tongues. Holding each other’s heads in their hands. For the first time, Mariah caught a quick glimpse of an engagement ring on the blonde’s finger. Oh, well, it wouldn’t be the first relationship or family that Mariah had broken up; it wouldn’t be the first heart she’d broken by stealing someone’s lover. The sound of wet kisses was music to Mariah’s ears. She blew smoke across their faces as they necked, and their already considerable passions nearly doubled.

She exhaled another thick cloud around their heads, shrouding them with misty halos, and then crouched down beside them. She wanted Lydia bound first, and fast, and there was no time for subtlety. As nice as it would be to have the woman’s fancy jeans out of the way, it would disrupt the bond she was trying to cultivate between them, so she let her fangs unsheathe from her gums and bit hard and fast through the expensive name-brand denim.

For a split second, Lydia stiffened in shock and pain, then the Balm began to work its magic on the pierced skin and began to carry bliss into her veins and throughout her body. Just a quick taste, and Mariah pulled back. The woman’s heart was beating faster with passion, as the potent neurochemicals mixed and churned in her body. The blonde was a simpler task, as she was wearing only a skirt. Mariah latched onto her thigh, with much the same effect, only faster.

As she stood back up next to them, the brief taste of their hot blood still tingling on her tongue, she took a deep drag on her cigarette and covered them in smoke again. Only one more element to introduce, and they would hers until their lives were spent decades from now. She stepped toward them, her glistening sex close to their faces. The scent struck them hard and fast, and they forgot each other’s lips and tongue and turned toward the lure of her Ambrosia.

At first, they fought for position, each desiring to have the lion’s share of the sticky nectar dripping slowly from her cunt and down her thighs. Superficially appearing so much like any woman’s natural lubricants, if more copious, but nothing at all like a human woman’s, really—filled with the most potent of a female Nightkind’s pheromones and mind-bending chemicals.

They bent more to Mariah’s will and became ever more addicted to her the longer they sipped from her font and licked her swollen labia. And as they continued their ministrations, Mariah reached for their minds and began to knit tighter the connections that already bound them so tightly as friends, now as lovers, and soon as her devoted thralls. The more she drew them together, the less they fought for position between her thighs. The more they acted in unison, not only making room for each other but passing her Ambrosia back and forth to each other with sticky, slippery kisses.

Twenty minutes later, Mariah had enjoyed two orgasms and both women had experienced quiet, pounding explosions of their own, fingering each other as they lapped at Mariah’s cunnie. Moreover, they were united fully now, Mariah realized. Two bodies and almost one mind. They weren’t precisely the same person now, but they were few walls between them now. They were a unified will now bound to Mariah and working magic on her with their tongues and lips.

Their thrallmates and anyone else they might take a shine to will be quite pleased to be the filling sandwiched between them in a sexual feast, Mariah mused. And then it hit her—another way they could be of use to her. Their connected minds with their amplified psyches, still fresh and hungry and reaching, and Joshua’s own sensitivity. Bind them three ways. His connection wouldn’t be as complete with them as theirs was with each other, but it would shield him from Matthew and give her an even more powerful psychic focal point with the three as a unit.

“Enough,” Mariah said quietly, and pulled her moist and thrumming sex away from their faces. There was a moment of dismay in their eyes, and then total acceptance of her will. “You will taste that daily, sometimes several times a day in fact. It is the way of things. It is the way you will honor me and renew your bonds to me.”

She realized that she had never learned the blonde woman’s name. Not that it mattered, really. In this new incarnation, bound to each other’s minds, they weren’t who they had been before anyway. She touched Lydia’s cheek, and smiled down at her. “Your name is now Dusk,” she announced. She ran her fingers into the golden ringlets of the other woman’s head and said, “You are Dawn now.”

And with that, she dressed herself and bade them to clean up quickly, and led them out into the approaching midnight so filled with dark and luscious promises.

# # #

Click here to read Part 3 of this series.

~ by Smokedawg on June 10, 2009.