~Sexual Situations~

WAKE UP!

The command jolted Svane out of his slumber. He felt glued to whatever surface he lied on, unable to move even his head. What… happened? 

“You tried to thieve from me because I was an easy target,” the voice that woke him up said lowly. “What a miscalculation on your part.”

Who… is this? 

The face that appeared above him could only be described as beautifully rugged; caramel skin and a sharp jaw that could cut glass covered with dark stubble with a slightly dimpled chin, high cheekbones, and a straight nose under wide-set eyes. Said eyes were citrine, gazing down at him in undisguised disgust. His thick eyebrows rose slightly. “You appear to be dumber than I thought.”

The god-like man disappeared from Svane’s view and his head subconsciously tried to follow him. This time he was able to move his head but found himself staring at a cherry painted wall. 

Desperate times did call for this but… Brontes could only sigh at himself. Now that he was in peak condition once again, he found a heavy stone of regret settling in his stomach. He considered wiping away every trace of himself from his food’s memory and letting it go, but the underlying flavor he’d tasted, even under the filth, still coated his tongue. 

“If you agree to my terms, you will not want for anything.” Brontes appeared in front of his food’s eyes once more. “Or do you wish to go back to thieving your way through life until someone ends it all?”

Well, when you put it like that… but even so, “Who the hell are you?”

“You do have such a foul mouth.” 

He disappeared again, and Svane’s heart stopped beating at the utter silence that seemed to suddenly fill the room. 

You do not need to know my name. The resonant voice echoed inside Svane’s mind and he felt a bead of sweat form at his forehead. It felt as if something were lodged in his skull. But I can tell you are a stubborn one, so call me Mr. Nicolau. 

“Are you… that old man from before?” Svane didn’t know what made him ask the question, but his gut told him that the man in front of him and the one from before were one and the same. And that he’d stepped his foot in it. Big time. 

“It seems you are not a complete dullard.” The face appeared again, this time citrine eyes gazing down at him in disdain. Better than before. 

Why do you want to impress him anyway? 

Brontes watched his food ripen even more in front of him as it struggled with the impulse to please him. Our compatibility is greater than I thought. 

“Are you ready to hear my terms or not? I can easily find another.”

Svane’s natural impulse was to give some flippant response and demand he be released, but for once he hesitated before responding to someone. He knew that if he responded in his usual manner, this… being would do away with him without a second thought. 

I don’t want to be cast aside anymore. 

“Yer parents are gone boy, so stop whinin’.”

Svane could only blink through salty tears at the dark liquid oozing from behind his parent’s bedroom door. The tall shadow in front of him blocked any possible light that filtered through the cracked window overlooking the hallway. 

A hand cold as ice gripped his chin suddenly, and yanked him off the ground with little effort. “People go kid, that’s life.” The shadow man came closer and glittering eyes bored into him. “Now, I’m not one for children, but she is; if you wanna survive, stop cryin’.”

Svane hiccuped in response to the darker tone from his captor and blinked away his tears. His instincts, finely tuned despite his young age, told him that if he didn’t do what this monster wanted, something bad like what happened behind his parents’s closed door would happen to him. 

“There we go!” The shadow tucked Svane underneath a strong arm, though he felt no warmth as the arm squeezed him against a hard chest. “We’ll be yer family now boy.”

Against memories he’d fought years to lock away, Svane managed to retort, “If it’s that easy, why are you even bothering with me?” 

“You shall be provided three meals a day,” the otherworldly man continued as if he hadn’t said anything.  “A place to stay free of charge, and given a limitless credit card. In return, I ask that you follow every single one of my orders. At all times. No exceptions. While I will let you roam about, you are forbidden from any romantic and sexual attachments.” His savior leaned down, so close their noses almost touched. “Do you agree?”

There’s a catch here. Svane closed his eyes against those unearthly eyes to try and think, but he could still see that disdainful gaze. “T-there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“Think back to how you got here. You put up quite the fight, but the strength of a vampire is unparalleled. Especially for such a lowly thing as yourself.” This time, frigid skin grazed his own, and a shiver scattered down his spine. “I need your blood.”

The word “blood” triggered something inside him and Svane’s neck throbbed as images of a dark figure devouring his neck surfaced. He’d been following the old man and instead been attacked. So… my blood made him… 

“Yes your blood revived me to this state; just as your kind wastes away without nourishment, so does mine.”

“How often?” Why am I even considering this? 

“Once a month.”

You can’t be serious, the rational part of Svane wailed at him. 

It was the usual “monthly meeting” that the large man, Jimmy, organized between Svane and the redheaded woman. He’d be led to her room and for hours he’d be forced to stand in the corner as she drank from a large glass of something dark and syrupy. Sometimes there were others with her and they would oogle him. Every now and then, cool fingers would trace the dirty skin on his arm, but nothing more. 

Regardless, fear always stole his breath being in that room under watchful gazes. He knew that one day something would happen, but his young brain couldn’t fathom what. That day however, something stronger than fear made him dig his heels into the creaky wood of the dark hallway. 

However, when he arrived in the woman’s room, there was no one there. In fact, the window’s that had lined the back wall were all open to the evening air, and a humid breeze wafted through the room. 

He turned to Jimmy, trying to get his vocal cords to make some sort of sound in question, only to see an empty hallway. As if neither person had ever existed.

It was the first time Svane was abandoned, and it began a long trend of foster parents, friends, and lovers leaving him to fend for himself. But, at the time he’d felt so overwhelmed and lost that all he could do was crumple to the ground and close his eyes in defeat. 

The echoes of the intense hunger he’d felt during that time overwhelmed Svane, and he swore he could feel that same growling in his stomach. The visceral memories running through his mind failed to stop him from saying, “I agree to your terms.”

As if by magic, Svane could feel and move his limbs at free will once more. He sat up and kept his eyes on Mr. Nicolau in front of him. “H-how does this work exactly?”

“In the morning. For now, follow me. It is well past your bedtime.”

In the blink of an eye, Mr. Nicolau opened a door and despite himself, Svane walked forward without taking a look back. He was tired of scrounging the streets for a bed or couch to sleep on every night, and stealing or bribing his way to a warm meal. It was time he finally reclaimed the semblance of a life those people had stolen from him. 

Such simple beings. Brontes watched his new food source walk further into his web with a rare smile. The older ones tended to ask more questions and often had the gall to negotiate terms. It was a refreshing change in pace. 

“Where you woke is the feeding chamber; the door shall remain locked until the designated day of the month. Here is where you will sleep.” Brontes opened the room door at the end of the hall.  “You are free to change the room in any way you like, seeing as it is your home now.” 

Brontes gestured in the general direction of the room. “You have your own bathroom and backyard access.”

Svane only heard half of Mr. Nicolau’s words, mouth falling open at the bedroom before him. It was large enough to be an entire apartment alone; the Victorian-style four-poster canopy bed the main feature of the room. He must be an old vampire, Svane thought idly as his eyes moved to the adjacent wall that was one large window, partially covered by dense dark curtains. 

“Although, behind the backyard is a dense forest.” 

Svane’s gut twisted at the unspoken threat but kept walking forward, eyes now on another door beside the bed. 

“That is your bathroom. I shall send for some basic clothes for you tomorrow, but there should be some leftover clothes that are suitable. Once you have your bank card, feel free to buy more items if you wish.” The vampire was suddenly in front of him and opening the door. 

Rather than a sterile bathroom full of white and grey, a larger countertop made of quartz and the color of taupe gleamed under orange lighting to his right and stretched along the length of the wall. Running parallel to the gleaming counter were mahogany doors, which he assumed was the closet. Directly in front of him was a spa-style bathtub next to a shower that rather than a door, had a glass to provide separation. 

“You should have everything you need. I will have Mrs. Smith, my housekeeper, bring you your evening tea, along with a snack.” Cool breath fell over Svane’s ear and he jumped at Mr. Nicolau’s sudden closeness. “If your plate is not outside your door within the hour, you will not like the consequences.”

Then, he vanished. 

He can’t mean I have to follow every little thing he says… Svane laughed at the thought while shedding his clothes to the marble floor. He was expecting it to be ice cold, but somehow heat seemed to radiate from the surface. 

I’m going to soak in that bathtub until I look like a raisin. 

Brontes shook his head at the ridiculous thoughts still reaching him loud and clear as he walked toward his bedroom. His nails sharpened to claws as he noted his food’s determination to defy his orders already. I have been bored as of late though, he mused. He headed to the kitchen where Mrs. Smith awaited his instructions. 

I hope the regret does not taint the taste…