Helena's Turning

Part 1

Helena Woodcotte was always careful when she went out for a night on the town, always making sure she had a good crowd of friends with her in the more dangerous parts of town. She carried a rape alarm and a small stick that could be used against an attacker in her handbag. She made sure that she knew exactly what she was drinking, and she never went home with strange men.

So how had she come to be here, in a strange man's home, completely within his power, and without a moment's thought or hesitation? Why had she so completely dropped her guard and let herself be brought out of the reach of safety and support?

She knew that she had done everything wrong in coming here. She hadn't even told her friends where she was going or with whom as she left the nightclub with the young man. Yet, although it made her nervous, she wasn't afraid. Some part of her wanted to be here, like this. A part, it seemed, that was now in control.

Helena was slim, with long dark hair, pale skin and she liked to wear black. Although she wasn't a Goth, at least not in any ideological sense, she fit the image and, in her hometown, that meant she stood out. Her friends had made a lifestyle choice out of it, so Helena didn't really fit in there either. Still, going with them to nightclubs was a way to be a part of a social group. They didn't take it too seriously, thankfully, and really only listened to the toned-down version that got into the charts every now and again.

She was waiting in a small room, sitting on the edge of a long sofa, gazing at the door, wondering when the man who had lured her here was going to come back. She never heard or saw how he did it, but suddenly she felt his hands on her shoulders, and easing the straps of her dress down her arms. Apart from the jump that the unexpected contact gave her, she felt no alarm, although she knew that this was an extremely dangerous situation. Instead, she felt a strange acceptance that, here she was, on the verge of something momentous in her life.

As the dress fell around her waist, Helena still sitting upright in her seat, the man gently kissed her shoulder and neck. She sighed with pleasure at that, and the part of her that explained how all this was a very bad situation, simply shut itself off. Then he deftly removed her bra, but what he did with it, she didn't see.

She tried to turn her head, but he took hold of her and made sure that she faced in front. Then, gently, he lifted her onto her feet. Her upper body was now completely naked, as he guided her around the settee, making sure that she was always facing away from her. His hands were firm and commanding on her waist as he directed her movements, but delicate too. She had no will to resist, but felt that it would have been impossible anyway. Walking just where he wanted, without a word, she was taken through the secret doorway behind the settee that had allowed him to creep up on her from behind.

Through the door was a luxurious room, the centrepiece of which was a large four-poster bed. At the foot of the bed, the man allowed Helena to turn and face him. There was no mistaking the gesture he made. He wanted Helena to strip completely.

She knows where this is leading. She knows that this is foolishness in the extreme, but she wants it. It is as if a barrier has been released, and the shame and cautions that surround this act mean nothing any more, it is just something that she wants to do. Slowly, not deliberately seductive, but simply taking the time to do it smoothly, she lowers the dress to the floor and leaves it about her feet. No flutter of the heart as she takes the big step and bares her all in front of a man she only met an hour or so before, sliding her knickers down her smooth legs. Her shoes, she left at the door when she was brought here, and she had been daring enough to leave her legs bare on a warm summer's night. She stands with every square inch of her skin exposed to the air.

He gestures again and Helena hoists herself up onto the bed and sits, dangling her feet over the edge. The man moves around and she feels his weight cause the mattress to sag as he climbs up behind her. Again, he takes her shoulders, and runs his hands down her arms, persuading them to come out to her sides slightly. When he reaches her wrists, everything changes. She is captive as he seizes them tightly and brings them over her head. The spell breaks, and that warning voice is back, but it's too late. She struggles but it is useless, she simply wriggles below his incredibly strong grip. She is aware that she is held only by one hand now, her own body-size being so small, his hand is well able to encompass both wrists. She feels it as soft silk encircles her wrists, and he ties it tight. Smooth it may be, but there is no escape from the silk bonds.

He pulls her by her arms until she is sprawled across the bed. She makes little screams as she struggles but saves her breath. She knows intuitively that this place will be out of earshot from anyone who would care. Very soon, she is attached to something above her head that will not give.

She wants to kick, but there is no point. That urge is too strong to ignore though, when he slips a noose of silk around her ankle. The act is so quick that it is only once she is already ensnared that she is able to buck and pull and flail to try to break free. It is too late, for he is well able to control her captured leg, and that weakens her other leg so that the kicks are ineffectual. There is nothing to anchor her twists and thrusts against. This changes when he ties the silk scarf around the corner post of the bed, but by then of course there is nothing she can do to stop him taking hold of her other ankle, and she is no match for his grip. Far more easily than her right, her left leg is tied wide. She is laid back and her legs obscenely spread, every detail of her body on intimate display.

Helena is convinced that she has been stupid and deserves the gruesome fate that surely awaits her. More than anything she feels shame at her actions, not her nakedness. She closes her eyes and waits for the end, her breath shaking and making her exposed body quiver.

The tenderness of his touch surprises her. He kisses her lips so softly that she barely notices the physical contact but deep inside her something responds. Her fear vanishes and she realises that this is what she wants with this man. She is aware that he has some power over her that has induced her acquiescence, but at the same time she believes that she wants to be under his power. She begins to return the kiss.

He straddles her, and she opens her eyes to see the magnificence of his penis. No mere prick this, but a Manhood that could spread wide the bodies and hearts of women across the world. Her heart. Her body. She wanted to be spread wide.

His chest came to her chest, his lips to her cheek, and finally his pelvis to hers.

And so as his Manhood to her virgin Womanhood, his teeth to her virgin neck. Her vocal chords to her mouth, silent and wide in pain and pleasure and fear and ecstasy. Her eyes wide but not seeing, her body aflame but made of ice.

The vampire deep in her neck, her womb, her soul.

And her body responds. Although it hurts, her pelvis thrusts back, her imprisoned arms urging her on, her captive legs urging her on.

Her throat, although it hurts, willingly giving more and more to this lover.

And each new pinnacle of pain is more exhilarating and joyful, each new level of agony brings greater knowledge of rapture.

It follows so naturally. So as orgasm overtakes her, so he ejaculates his seed into her deepest warmth, so her blood runs out and so she dies.

She believed. She welcomed. So as she dies, so she gives all she was to him, so she rises again and so is what she always knew she would be.

Part 2

When Helena returned to the world she was no longer restrained but lay flat on her back with her hands resting serenely on her stomach – a classic funereal pose. She felt comfortable and warm, and for now she did not want to move so she stayed where she was, gazing calmly at the ceiling. She floated mentally; aware that this was not where she had been in her last memories, but not caring why or where she was now. She did not recall dying, just the bliss in which it had happened.

A hand reached across and lay upon her cheek, and gently pulled her face towards its owner. The events of last night returned to her as she saw again the face of the man who had killed her. She took a sharp intake of breath, and in so doing, realised that until that point she had not been breathing. Tension crept over her as she remembered how he had taken her body and her blood.

"Shhh," he said, "I have already killed you, I can do no more and I would not anyway. You are a vampire now, as I am and you know in your heart this is true. You knew it when you gave yourself to me and that giving is what makes you Undead now instead merely a dried corpse.

"When you have more fully recovered from the sleep of death, I will explain to you about how it works, what is mere superstition and what is fact about our kind, and how you will live day-to-day in a world that is ignorant of our existence. But for now, rest yourself. Strength will return soon enough."

Helena trembled as she realised that she had taken an irrevocable step into a different life, or undeath as she later supposed it should rightly be called. She wanted to go back, undo the deeds of last night, return to life as a 19 year-old student with a place in the world already waiting for her. Yet, in her most simple emotional responses she knew that this was an escape from a life that she hadn't wanted. She felt that she belonged here, in a way she never had in all her time in the normal world.

When she felt well enough, she sat up. She discovered that the 'bed' on which she had been lying was in fact a low stone plinth placed centrally in a richly furnished room that made it seem out of place. The man who had fed on her and filled her was sat quietly watching.

"Ah, you are ready," he said. "There are some things that you must know before leaving here. As a vampire, you have already mutated and changed. You have a much stronger cardio-vascular system, and only immense damage to the heart can destroy it, which is why the traditional death is a stake through the heart. Even then, the stake must remain there for a long time before your existence is terminated. High-power rounds from modern firearms also do enough damage in the chest cavity to kill, but another of the changes is that your flesh is of varying hardness. You can take a lot of physical impacts, but can also soften yourself so that even a high-power round will pass straight through. But you need to know it's coming to be able to change.

"You do have fangs, as you know from experience I have. Most of the time they are retracted into sheaths in the roof of your mouth, and so that you need not spend a dangerous time learning to control them, an instinctive mechanism has developed in your brainstem. Only when you are feeding or in threat will they emerge, at least at first. You will eventually learn to control them at will, except for strong instinctive moments of danger.

"The important issue of how you can die is covered largely by the effects of your new physiology as I explained. Only extremely severe damage to your body can kill you. Decapitation is the most likely in this day and age. Fire will kill as long as it is hot enough and you are burned for long enough. And of course there is the sun. It is not as dramatic as the films would have you believe, but it does kill. Usually half an hour of direct sunlight will give you a fatal dose of sunburn, but it is easily countered by wearing a very strong sun cream.

"You do need to drink blood regularly, but you can eat other foods as well, they simply won't give you any sustenance. You will feel when you need to feed, there is a distinctive type of hunger that does not match any sensation that a human experiences. You will know it for what it is, without a doubt – it is pure instinct.

"And now it is time that you hunted for your first meal. Very soon you will know how it feels to be hungry, and I would prefer to be on the move by then."

"But won't it be daylight outside?" asked Helena.

"Ah, you believe you have woken as if after a night's sleep. You have been clinically dead for eighteen hours and it is now dusk on the evening after the night I turned you. But I will explain about such past things later, for now you know that you need blood, how you can die, and how to avoid dying. Let us go now to hunt!"

First, the vampire led her to a vast wardrobe, where she could choose an outfit for the hunt. Helena did not want to think about what that meant, the inevitability of someone's death implied in the word. She concentrated instead on the clothes. These were costumes and items that were leagues above what a student could hope to dream of owning – clothing suited to the very best and the most fashionable of high society, the top-level celebrities. Even the casual, dressing-down clothes were clearly made to look worn-out, rather than it being the simple effect of poverty and long use. Helena could become the woman she always dreamed she could be, make herself look like the icy-warm dark queen lover that she had often imagined. She could be like that goddess, one glance of whom could send men to their graves if she commanded it – and look like she would command it, too.

Yet there was a nagging urgency that she felt, that she could not place. She decided that she would have time enough later to decide upon her best image as a vampire, and settled for something dark-red: a long dress, tight and revealing. She could have fun tonight like she had never done before, setting jaws dropping all over town, and desired by all who saw her. Watched by the man who had given her this chance, she dressed quickly and announced that she was ready to go.

He looked Helena up and down, but said nothing, simply taking her by the hand and leading her to a mirror. Make-up proved unnecessary for, as soon as she made a decision to apply some colour, the skin there changed hue subtly so that the effect she sought was achieved without artificial aid. Her appearance was naturally easy to manage, there was little else she could do but go with the natural paleness when alive, and more so now. Her dramatic yet understated lips turned themselves a deep crimson, and her face and eyes seemed to avoid the off-putting deathly look, creating precisely the right balance of ice and fire that she wanted.

Her hair, however, needed some attention, and for the first time in a long time, she decided that the image she had achieved worked best with it worn up. Curiously, maybe yet another effect of the vampiric mutations affecting her, it was a lot easier than she had imagined to achieve everything she wanted. In front of the full-length mirror (for the first time noticing that this meant that vampires had reflections after all) she saw how she had transformed herself into the image she originally chose.

No longer could she wait. The urgency she felt was increasing, and she wanted to away to the party, the club, wherever it was that she could show off her new self.

Her lover and teacher (whose name she still did not know) took her around the waist and guided her through his home to an exit. She was puzzled that she could remember none of that journey, but was certain that the door by which they left was not the one by which she had entered the night before. She was disappointed that it seemed like they would be walking, for he did not attempt to find a vehicle, but continued to guide her feet down the road. However, after only a short time it seemed that they had covered a surprising amount of ground, and when she looked down at their feet, although she could clearly feel the asphalt underfoot, they were not actually touching the pavement at all. In this way, they were travelling far faster than anyone could on foot.

As they approached their destination, Helena noticed that their speed slowed and that her feet were once more touching the floor. There were other people about, people intending to pass a few hours drinking and dancing. It was time to blend in.

Helena was disappointed that the club that her companion had chosen was not of a similar high class to the wardrobe he had shown her. This was one of the less salubrious places in the city, and one that as a student here she had made a conscious decision to avoid. At least she would face no awkward questions from people she knew.

She assumed that the ease with which they entered had something to do with the sheer presence that their appearance gave them. Nobody had complained as they went straight to the head of the queue and breezed in. It seemed that nobody thought to ask them for the usual price of admission.

Inside there was the usual surging throng of humanity in various states of arousal, exercise and inebriation. There was something new in the scent that came to Helena. Something enticing and something dark. Unmistakably, the smell of live blood coursing through the bodies of the dancers. Helena felt a subcutaneous shiver of rebellion against the idea that she had thus far avoided. That she would end up murdering in order to survive, that she would take on the role of the predator. She was determined that she would somehow survive as a "normal" human being while embracing the life of a vampire. She would spend this night as she would any other visit to the nightlife of a student city. She peeled off from her companion and set out to enjoy herself.

Immediately, Helena was aware of the admiring looks all around her, the effect of her makeover being felt as powerfully as she could have hoped. She barely had time to approach the bar before she was hit on.

To her surprise, it was not a man but a woman who had made the approach. There was something deeply sensual about the way this girl (she was younger than Helena, although how she knew with such certainty she did not know) made her approach. Helena half-remembered something about how it was that lesbians were much better equipped to know how to attract their intended partners, by virtue of being so much more aware of what turned a woman on. Whatever it was, there was something that made Helena respond to the approach more positively than she had ever thought she would. Before she was really aware of it, she and this girl were flirting heavily with one another. Helena decided that she liked this – the point was that she was being admired for her body and her outfit, just as she had imagined. It didn't seem to be an important issue whether the admirer was male or female.

The girl had short, dark hair that looked as if it was dyed, and large breasts that swelled out of her short, tight plastic dress. This girl had gone for a trashy, sluttish look and achieved it but was clearly a stunner underneath: it was just that tonight she was perhaps after a cheap thrill. She was slightly shorter than Helena and a little more heavily built, and dressed differently might have qualified on appearance grounds as a regular hard dyke.

Helena did not think twice as her flirting grew ever more serious with her new friend. Indeed, it had gone beyond flirting now as they danced ever closer, and she had still not pulled back. Something about this young woman made the idea of sex with her seem perfectly normal, and there was no doubt that she was determined to bed Helena if at all possible. Helena had never before had any interest in exploring same-sex relationships before, but she had already had one liberating experience in the past twenty-four hours, so why not seize this one as well? It could be fun, it would certainly be educational...and it just felt so right.

Her companion, despite being barely eighteen by any guess Helena could make, had clearly done this many times before, for her knowledge of how to move things along was well-tuned. It wasn't long before she suggested, "Why don't we find somewhere a little more private to carry on?" and led Helena out of the club into the dark night outside.

About five minutes' walk from the club was a small park with some nicely secluded areas, perfect for concealing the young and horny in action. Helena's partner seemed to know exactly where she was going, and her breath suggested that she was anxious to get started. A thicket up against one of the buildings hid a relatively untouched piece of wall, where no doubt others had tasted the forbidden fruit about to be offered to Helena.

The nameless girl almost flung Helena against the wall, panting and desperate for the imminent physical contact. The beautiful dress fell victim to the appetite of the two girls, torn in their eagerness for Helena to shed it. The unwanted fabric fell away, repairable perhaps, but ignored as the girl's mouth closed completely over Helena's. Helena spared no thought to her altered state as she returned the hungry kiss, but some part of her must have felt triumph that they did not stir or threaten this delectable young temptress. Helena's hands worked to remove the other girl's clothes as their lips meshed, pulling free the tight plastic from her upper body. The night was a mild one, and neither girl noticed the cold air.

Nameless girl broke the kiss as she felt her dress peeling free, and moved her hands to her hips to carry on the process, while she carefully sank towards the ground taking the plastic with her. Her mouth traced its own path down Helena's chest and belly so that when the dress was on the floor her lips were kissing the inside of Helena's thighs. With the dress safely removed, Nameless began working her way back up Helena's body. Helena had never had such attentive treatment from a man, although she had sensed the capacity there last night...

Helena shivered from the sensual pleasure as Nameless reached her breasts, Helena's hands reaching for the same area of Nameless's body. Nameless began toying with Helena's nipple, sucking, flicking with the tongue, a slight nip of the teeth building a tapestry of sensation so expertly that Helena could feel the desire swelling inside her, and there was no mistaking the quality of the moans that escaped her lips. All the while, her own fingers were softly kneading and stroking the ample substance of her partner's breasts.

Nameless began moving downwards again, and there was no doubt about her intention. No light kiss on the thighs this time, but an expert tongue licking at Helena's clit, lips sucking and stimulating.

"Oh, God, that's incredible," gasped Helena, the wave of arousal hitting her anew, her breath coming in pants as she was carried on a tide of pleasure. By now, all doubts were gone and she was riding the experiences wherever they took her. She was still in rhapsody when Nameless pulled back and breathed, "I can't let you have all the pleasure – why don't you try your stuff on me now?" The two girls swapped places and it was Helena's turn to suck on female flesh. Nameless used her hands on Helena's head to guide her between her legs. Helena had never had her face anywhere near another woman's fanny before and wasn't sure what to do now, but the memory of Nameless' expert manipulation spurred her on, as she let the sweet scent of the girl's arousal pull her in. Her tongue extended and began to lick around the rim of Nameless' pussy-lips, and she was rewarded by sounds of pleasure from Nameless.

"Hey, you're pretty good for a first-timer!" remarked Nameless as Helena began to push her tongue deeper, flexing it more to try to create a better pleasure for Nameless. It seemed to be working, because Nameless was no longer speaking in words, just excited breathing. That was when it happened.

The taste of Nameless' pussy juices might have triggered it, Helena didn't know. All she knew was that, by no will of her own, she had drawn back a little way and then her fangs had sunk their way into Nameless, impaling the walls of her pussy just inside the opening. The reaction was instant.

"Jesus, what are you doing? It feels like you've got a fucking knitting needle down there!" exclaimed Nameless, causing Helena to pull right out instantly. But the taste of blood charged with sexual arousal had already passed her lips, and the thirst was on her. Without thinking, she leapt to her feet and bit hard into Nameless' throat, sucking deeply as the fresh arterial blood pumped into her desperate body. Helena's arms clung tightly around Nameless, imprisoning her and taking her weight as the strength drained rapidly from her limbs and into Helena's stomach.

The warm, salty blood felt to Helena like it was coating all her insides, and it tasted so sweet, sweeter than she had ever imagined for to her vampiric body there was nothing more vital than the consumption of this fluid. With the power of her hunger, not one drop escaped from the wound in Nameless' neck, and Helena kept sucking long after all life had left the body of her victim. The corpse was as dry as it could be when Helena let it slide limply to the ground, to rest in a pool of the blood that had poured from the gaping wound in Nameless' vagina. Helena, still naked, looked down at what she had done and smiled. She had thought she could deny what she was, that her life could remain unchanged by the changes that had taken place within her. That delusion was dead now, and a new facet to her personality had blossomed. Yet still, there was a part of her that felt revulsion.

Just then, another person with whom she had had sex, without even knowing his name, arrived. The vampire, he who had brought her to this point.

"I see you have taken your first meal," he mused, "You might at least have saved some for me! But it doesn't matter. We must leave this place at once." With that decisive statement, he extended an arm and Helena watched as the nameless girl and both girls' clothes shrivelled and blackened as though consumed by an invisible fire, eventually disintegrating into three dust clouds that were quickly scattered. Helena was about to protest her nakedness, and demand to know how she would get home without being noticed, when the vampire put his arm around her and demonstrated another power, that of flight. Helena held her eyes tightly closed throughout the flight, her emotions still in turmoil after her murder of an unknown student.

Part 3

The overlap of myth and reality was too much for Helena – how could there be such a rational-sounding explanation for the vampires' legendary fear of the sun, while they possessed such a fantastical power as flight? And how had she succumbed to the blood hunger so easily, after she had been so determined to resist? Why did she now feel the desire for it stirring inside her, still echoing, the delight of the taste as it slid down her throat, the thrill of the feel as her teeth had sunk deep into the poor girl's gentle throat?

She was brought out of her reverie by the feel of the ground beneath her feet again, and she opened her eyes. It was difficult in the dark, even with the streetlights of the city to help her, to determine where in the city she was. What was clear was that the building was taller than those around it, and would be something impressive to see in daylight. In her heart, though without knowing how, she knew that this was the vampire's home. They were standing on the roof, gazing out across the nightlife from their elevated position. Helena felt giddy as the rush of sensations from the last twenty-four hours continued to flow through her.

"It is time for you to understand the full nature of your position," said the vampire, in a serious tone of voice. "You have become a vampire, a creature who thrives on the consumption of life from others. Where, as a human, your survival depended upon the death of plants and animals to feed you, now you feed directly – that death is at your fingertips, your lips and your stomach. But it is not mere sustenance that the blood you consume represents. It is life itself, directly from the life of another. You might pull back before they die outright, but every mouthful brings them closer to that everlasting darkness, and takes you a step further from it. The vampire's dependency on blood is both a source of power and a chain that ties us to the humans.

"And that leads to the bond between vampires that is the most important thing for you to understand. First, recognise that magic is real, and the power of symbolism is not purely imaginary. How else could we have travelled as we have done tonight, through the air and racing across the flat ground? Now you must see that there is a powerful bond created when a vampire turns someone into a fellow vampire. In fact, the new vampire is not an equal, but a subordinate not merely in age and experience, but in magic as well. When a new vampire is created, she is essentially enslaved by her creator." Helena started at this comment, as the severity of the step she had taken broke through the tumult within her, but even as she started to form an angry remark, a cloud seemed to smother it so that she could not speak.

"You see? There is a magical debt that can only be repaid when you pass on the curse to a new vampire of your own turning. I can see everything that happens in your mind, and choose what becomes action, and what perishes there. If I choose to give you a direct command, you cannot refuse it. Any time that I wish to call you to me, no matter how far distant you are, you will instantly know and will feel an uncontrollable compulsion to seek me out. And any time I want to know your location, I can feel it and see what you are seeing."

"Why have you done this to me?" begged Helena, the shock of his explanation shuddering through her, her confusion over her actions thrown into a stark light by these revelations.

"You chose it when you lay with me last night. You saw in your unconscious mind what I truly am, and chose to come with me. You accepted my seed and gave your life willingly, and you climaxed in doing so. Most importantly, you surrendered yourself to me as completely as it is possible for anyone to do. You have chosen the path of vampirism, which is one of power and slavery, death and fullest life. And you are mine."

Something shifted in Helena's mind, not the work of her master, but a simple clarification. The nameless girl's death had become Helena's life. Helena's subordinate role was her path to learn true power. Her eyes turned to his, and her gaze was one of trust and of obedience.

"Well done," he said, "I knew you would make the journey tonight, you always had the dream in you. Now, follow me."

The vampire took the naked Helena by her hand and led her across the roof to a door that opened onto a stairway leading down into the building. It only then occurred to her that she had not been shivering – another effect of her vampire body.

The stairway only went down one floor, and another door opened onto a white corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity (although this was clearly not the case, it was just an illusion). The corridor had a number of doors in it, each with a distinctive and intricate design on the front, in a colour that was only slightly darker than the pale walls of the corridor itself.

The vampire released Helena's hand and went to the nearest door, which Helena saw led to a closet, from which the vampire took something. He came back and showed her what he had brought. It was a strip of black velvet.

"Tie this over your eyes, so that you cannot see anything," he commanded. It was a direct order, and Helena found that it was as he had told her on the roof: she simply could not disobey. She had taken his words seriously, but it was only after her initial attempt left a small gap of light in her vision, that she discovered that all the will in the world to simply leave it at that, was not enough. She could see something, just the tiniest thing, and it was enough to set off a jarring sense of intense discomfort in her until she corrected the blindfold and was utterly sightless.

The vampire's hand took Helena's and he led her, nude except for the cloth wrapped around her eyes, down the corridor. Without vision she had no idea how much further down the corridor they went before he opened a door and guided her through. Helena was apprehensive about what the next phase in her initiation would be, but now that she was so bonded with the vampire, she was sure that it would be a moment to treasure. The violence of the next few moments came as a total shock to her.

She felt him stand in front of her, and then swiftly he grabbed both her wrists and pulled them forward and together, slipping a noose over them and pulling sharply to tighten the loop around Helena's arms. She staggered under the force of the actions, and was surprised by the gentleness with which the vampire caught her and straightened her after the ferocity of his tethering her. Shock had so frozen Helena's systems that she could not yet even formulate a question or a protest at his rough treatment of her so far. Still more was to come.

His grip fastened onto Helena's lower arms and lifted them over her head. Unable to see what was happening, still Helena couldn't help aiming her obscured eyes in the direction of her hands. She felt it as his hands looped the rope over some protuberance from the ceiling (or so she imagined it must be). He pulled on the rope until Helena was forced to stand right on the tips of her toes before wrapping the rope around her wrists and tying it off on the protuberance. Helena's naked body was stretched to her full length, her arms straight above her and her legs and feet pointed straight down. In order to gain a little extra reach, Helena had thrust her head right back to make room for her arms to go as directly as possible.

The vampire circled her, she could hear his footsteps and a part of her was aware of his location even when he stopped, like a small spot in her mind's eye. He stopped behind her, and reached around to caress her breasts as he whispered in her ear.

"I told you on the roof that I knew you would make the transition and take a kill, but I also know that you tried to resist it, that you sought to rebel against your nature and against me. That cannot go unpunished. Now you will start learn what power a vampire of my long existence likes to wield!"

Cold fear did what the cold air outside had failed to do, and Helena shivered. He ordered her to hang her head forwards, and despite the effort it took to achieve it, she had no choice but to take more of her weight on her arms and move her head between them and over her breasts. He removed her blindfold then, and showed her what he was now holding. It was a cruel-looking whip. Helena felt intense shame as her helpless terror caused her bladder to release its load over the floor, splashing against her legs and ankles. During the course of the night, she had drunk a huge amount, first at the club and then from the girl's neck so there was a lot of piss there. The vampire simply stood back and calmly watched the flow. Although Helena hadn't noticed it, there were drainage holes in the floor through which the piss trickled away, instead of forming a large puddle around her feet. When she had finished, he stated in a matter of fact voice, "I'll have to devise something extra for that," and then he strode behind her.

Helena had no experience against which she could compare the pain as the first lash tore across her back. Her shriek filled the room, and the effect caused her legs to give way, so that her entire weight was suspended by the rope around her wrists. She only had enough time to draw breath, but not enough to vocalise her protest, before the second stroke streaked its band of pain into her. This time, it was a desperate wail rather than a shriek, and uncontrollable tears of agony welled in her eyes. This time, he waited for her to respond, but instead of the yell she would have made after the first blow, she only gasped a single word: "Please." Before she could say anything else, the vampire gave her the third stroke. Again, there was a pause and Helena could feel the vampire savouring her anguished response to his blows. Again he struck, and again, each time pausing just long enough for Helena to appreciate her agony not just as a physical response, but on a mental level as well, enhancing her knowledge of her inability to sway him or avoid his intentions. Then he stopped.

It took Helena a few moments to realise that the punishment was over, that he was not going to deliver a sixth terrible stripe to her. Blinking the tears from her eyes, she began to focus again on her surroundings, and saw him standing beside her.

"It would have hurt less had you learned to control your skin as I described to you before," were his coldly spoken words. Then he turned and walked to the door.

"Please don't leave me here!" gasped Helena, desperate now that her whipping was over to stretch and move freely again, but the vampire simply shrugged and said, "I told you there would be extra punishment. Today, you sleep as you are. Or you don't sleep. I will be back at sunset to see how you are doing."

With that, he shut the door gently, but still it seemed that the sound of the latch was the loudest slam that Helena had ever heard.

Part 4

Helena did not think she could possibly sleep, but lost consciousness several times as the long hours stretched past with just the same wall to stare at. The discomfort in her arms forbade her any long periods of sleep, but she felt grateful for anything she could get. Her waking hours were spent in a mixture of self-pity as she bemoaned her misfortune in arriving at this state, and trying to work out how she could avoid further punishment of a similar nature, and maybe eventually escape the vampire for good.

When he returned to her, she was in one of her brief sleeping spells. Rather than wake her gently, he carefully approached before his lightning fingers snatched at her nipples simultaneously.

She screamed as she jerked back to the waking world, but the vampire only tightened his grip until she was gritting her teeth and every muscle in her body tensed with the pain. He snarled at her, "Are you stupid? I heard every thought you had through the day. Such rebellion will not be tolerated, do you understand?" Helena was still seized by the agony and did not respond, but he now started to twist the trapped nipples and insisted, "Do you understand me?"

This time, Helena managed to breathe the word "yes".

"Yes, what?" demanded the vampire.

"Yes, Master," she managed. He released her nipples and chuckled.

"That was not what I meant, but it is a lesson well-learned, I think. Now, answer my questions properly."

"Yes, I understand you, Master."

"And the other question?"

"What question, Master?"

"Are you stupid?"

"No, Master, I don't think so." His hand struck swiftly, the back of it stinging against her cheek.

"Yes, Master, I am stupid."

"That's better. You appear to suffer an inability to remember vital facts when you are told them, or you really are stupid. So I will teach you properly tonight. Physical influence may stimulate an otherwise dull mind."

With that, the vampire began to take Helena down from her bondage. He did not give her any clothes to wear, however, but once again told her directly to put on a blindfold. This she did without hesitation. Again, he led her through the corridors of his home to a new chamber.

This room felt warmer, and Helena thought that she could hear a fire burning somewhere close by. Beneath her feet there was worn, varnished wood for a floor. The vampire told her to walk forwards and she would come to a large table. She did so, her hands outstretched at first, to feel for the table, but the vampire gave her an order forbidding this tactic and as had been explained to her, Helena was unable to resist the direct order. So it was that she collided full on with the table, it banging her thighs and midriff.

The table, Helena found, came perfectly up to her waist, and she was not surprised when the vampire told her he wanted her to bend over it, resting her weight on the smooth wooden top. It was clearly sturdily built, for Helena could feel the thickness of the wood against her thighs as she did as she was asked. She noticed that this had not been expressed as a direct order, giving her the freedom to refuse if she so chose. She decided that she did not want to risk the consequences of denying the vampire what he wanted. She stretched her naked body across the table's expanse, and when the vampire asked her to do so, she stretched her arms out to either side to grasp the edges of the table. The thickness of the wood made it impossible for her to gain a firm grip, instead her fingers curled over the side of the great panels. The height of the table meant that her feet were taking none of her weight, but rested lightly on the floor. The vampire requested that Helena keep her legs together throughout the following lesson.

"I have here," he explained to the still blindfolded Helena, "A long, thin cane, more harsh than those used by Victorian schoolmasters, but just right for the training of a young vampire. There shall be punishment for any deviation from your current posture, and for any obscenities, blasphemies or other exclamations during the lesson. The object of this lesson is control, and to lose control of one aspect is potentially to lose control of them all.

"Last morning I remarked to you that you had yet to learn to control your body's resistance to physical events. You will now learn the basics of this skill." The calm, easy voice ceased, and Helena could tell where he was, and that he would be in perfect striking position to land a blow to her bottom. Sure enough, the cane whistled through the air before a stripe of pain blazed across Helena's behind. She could not contain herself, and let out a wailing cry. The vampire confirmed that this counted as an exclamation, and that punishment would be forthcoming, before returning to his target. Helena's eyes were beginning to water.

With demonic accuracy, he landed the second blow directly on top of the first, amplifying the pain with the combination. Helena's hands briefly flew from the sides of the table, anxiously reaching back to probe the damage, before she recalled the injunction. It was too late: further punishment had been accrued.

Desperately, Helena tried to gather her thoughts. She grasped at the idea that she was supposed to be learning how to control her body, maybe if she just thought of making her bottom tougher then it would do that and so ease the pain? Before she could frame the idea in her mind, a third impact broke her concentration, and drove a powerful "ugh" from her lips. Again, the vampire added to her total of punishments pending.

Helena knew what she was doing, and thought with all her might of having a tough-skinned behind, but all that happened was that her muscles tensed, and the fourth blow came with just as much pain as the rest. The vampire laughed at her effort, apparently realising how she had approached the problem, and pouring scorn on Helena for such a simple-minded idea. The tears now started to flow feely down Helena's face, and they weren't just tears of pain, but of frustration and humiliation as well.

Helena felt a flush of hatred for this humiliation, and even as the laughter still rang in her ears, she became even more determined to figure out the mechanism by which she could control the body's toughness. She thought harder, but was rewarded by the same effects as last time, as her body tensed up and the blow landed without any change in the level of pain delivered.

As the agonising blow faded slightly, Helena felt for a moment almost serene, as if her thoughts were carried far from her by the pain. In that moment, she simply relaxed her conscious efforts, but something subconscious took over. A new instinctive control came to her from the mutations caused by her transitions lying deep within. It was as if a man blind since birth had suddenly opened his eyes and seen. She had had no way of thinking about how to control these properties until she now became aware of them.

Her surprise and wonder at this awakening was so great that she missed feeling one strike of the cane all together, for as soon as she had discovered the skill, she had protected herself from the cane's attacks. The next blow she felt seemed like a slight scratch instead of the trail of fire that the others had been. The previous hits still blazed, but the last two were hardly noticed. After a third such ineffectual impact, the vampire stopped, and stood back slowly clapping in admiration.

"Perhaps you are a quicker study than your previous errors have suggested. Very few catch onto the trick on their first beating – I'm impressed. Come here."

Slowly, still wincing from the bruises caused by the caning, Helena stood. From where had his voice come? But maybe echolocation would be un-necessary; after all, she had new sensory abilities as a vampire, and her master had emphasised the psychic link between him and herself many times. Maybe this was another test of her ability to focus on these capacities? But she couldn't detect anything to give her a clue, and it had been a direct order. The discomfort at disobeying was growing ever stronger, so that she was frantically seeking some clue as to which direction to turn. It was by pure accident that she discovered that the slightest movements in some directions increased her inward pain, while as she grew 'warmer' the discomfort became less. That was how she could track him psychically. Confident now, she stood properly and turned towards the direction that her sensations were describing. With her arms outstretched in front of her, she advanced more hastily than she would normally if she couldn't see, but the command was still a strong impetus and she could not resist. Consequently, she had no way to stop herself falling when she came upon a low step up that caught her by surprise. She sprawled forwards with a cry, but she did not hit the ground as she expected; her master's hands had caught her and now his arms enveloped her naked body and lowered her to her knees. He untied her blindfold and she saw him standing in front of her, his penis large and erect before her. She had never liked the thought of fellatio, but she knew that she would not hesitate when his demand came. Nervously, she swallowed, waiting for the words, but he never said them. Instead, he silently turned and retreated to an easy chair that Helena could see in the corner. A simple hand gesture made it plain that Helena was not to move.

Part 5

Helena waited as her master put on a simple robe and settled himself in his chair. She could see now that the room was indeed lit by a fire (although the fire was now behind her) and several candles. She rested her hands on either side of her, her feet behind her, toes hanging over the lip of the step that had tripped her up. She was kneeling, she noticed, on a rug that had obviously been placed just here for the purpose. The chair was placed on a more luxurious rug, but there was no other floor covering. She focused her eyes on her master, who began to speak.

"You have begun to understand what you are now, and have even begun to learn how to control your abilities. This is very quick learning, and I feel you have earned the right to learn a little more about me, since you have already begun to discover yourself.

"You will not earn the right to know my name until you have earned your freedom, which will not be for some time. There is still much for you to learn before you can pass on the curse. For now, I will tell you something of what I was, and what I have been for many years.

"I am over 2,100 years old according to the reckoning of time passed – although I have not aged in nearly as long. In my age, I was a king of a tribal group who considered themselves the greatest warriors in all the Midnight Isles (the notion of Britain had barely been conceived in those days). And I, as their chief, was the greatest of them all. I was terrible in battle, and merciless in victory. I was a sadist and the wives and daughters of my enemies became my slaves.

"Everything in the small area that my people dominated was mine to have, and every attractive woman at some stage became my sexual partner, and my victim. But I knew that this could not last. Eventually age and death would steal my power and my treasure.

"For this reason, I sought out places where rumours of the undead hunting people were current, and watched the nights until finally, I met one face to face.

"She was a dark, demonic figure but she knew instantly my purpose and saw what a powerful figure I would become. I paid the price, and became her slave for the time it took me to master the skills of a vampire, while she came to my tribal home and there stayed while I fed my enemies to her and preyed upon their women. Very few who entered my hall at night left it in the morning, but eventually I found a young woman to be my first. She succumbed to me and awoke the next morning in my power. My former mistress was furious that I was no longer hers to command, and so I commanded my new vampire to kill the old mistress.

"By now, my tribe was close to extinction because of the predators in their midst and the other tribes, despite my feeding on them as well, were now strong enough relative to us to come and destroy us. I fled into the night as the huts burned, and felt only the slightest of pangs as my first turned vampire was seized, tied to a stake and burned alive. The legends may say that a vampire survives such a burning but it isn't true. With no sunscreen in those days, I was still confined to travel and action by night except in the darkest days of the year, but I kept my nature and existence a secret, never staying anywhere long enough to be suspected. Such a life led me throughout Europe until finally true cities began to arise, and in the multitudes I could mingle and feed without suspicion. In London I made a home and gradually began to build up wealth and security. By the 19th Century, such were the levels of crime and suffering in the cities of the world that my true delights were unnoticed. And as scientific explanations grew in stature, the knowledge relating to our kind was forgotten, and I became ever safer.

"I have grown ever more powerful, and have evaded capture far longer than any other vampire in my knowledge – and believe me, 2,100 years brings a lot of knowledge.

"Now you know what I am and what you are, Helena. You will do well to remember what I have told you. Finally, if you want a name by which to address me, you should call me 'My Lord Cabud' or simply 'My Lord'. Now, come here – crawl on your hands and knees."

Helena knew that she could not disobey, and instantly adopted the position require and crawled across the floor. This part of the floor was laid with terracotta tiles that, being far from the fire, were cold to her touch and hard beneath her knees.

Helena was not greatly endowed with her breasts, but in her nakedness she was now acutely aware of them as never before as they wobbled with her every step towards Lord Cabud. She recalled in a moment of distraction how her best friend had described them: "small, but perfectly formed, and plenty for nice handful!" And now, plenty to swing and be watched by the silent and impervious master who had in her moment of abandon sunk his teeth into far more than just her neck.

When she reached the feet of Lord Cabud, Helena decided to return to the kneeling posture she had taken while he explained his history. Helena's eyes were involuntarily drawn to his cock, currently at half-mast as Lord Cabud considered his latest disciple. One hand reached out to caress her hair and pulled her nearer between his knees. Once again, Helena anticipated the taste of a man's cock.

Still Lord Cabud did not give her the order, nor did he force her face down towards his crotch. Instead he wrapped his hand in her hair and tilted her face upwards. The tug hurt and brought tears to Helena's eyes, and a detached part of her wondered that she should still be moved by such a small pain after what she had already suffered. With his hand tightly holding her hair, and now below and behind her head, Lord Cabud started to lift her so that to avoid the increasing pain in her roots, she had to transfer some of her weight to her legs and begin to stand up. Her knees had to bend gradually until it was hard to maintain her balance, and it was while she was in this condition that Lord Cabud chose to lean forwards and kiss Helena. In pain and struggling to stand, Helena could not respond, but Lord Cabud's other hand was suddenly under her behind, and he guided her so that she was perched on one of Lord Cabud's knees. He caressed her and Helena started to kiss back, but immediately he broke off. He let go of her hair and with both hands pinched her buttocks. Helena yelped with surprise and pain, but was not allowed to pause to recollect herself, for once more his hands were under her, almost cradling the bruised skin and lifting her. Her eyes were locked to his, so it was not until he started lowering her again that she realised that now he was fully hard, and was placing her with precision directly over his penis. Just as the tip of his towering manhood nestled against the gateway to her pussy, Lord Cabud snatched his hands away from her behind and without warning, she fell the rest of the way, his entire length plunging up into her cunt. Her breath was knocked out of her in a single gasp and as she refocused, he seized her firmly by the upper arms and held her in place, his long shaft warm inside her tight pussy. Helena found the floor again with her feet, but felt paralysed by the vampire's touch. His eyes bore into hers until finally he spoke.

"Pleasure yourself on me. Bring yourself to climax as often as you wish. I shall demonstrate to you my utter control by not climaxing myself."

Helena did not feel like having sex. She wanted to recover and think about all that had happened today, but she had no choice. Lord Cabud had given her a direct order to bring herself to orgasm by using his erect penis as her sex-toy. Slowly she started to push herself upwards, feeling the shaft withdraw as she did so. Lord Cabud had not released her arms, although now his grip was gentler. It was clear that she would be permitted neither to use her hands in any way, nor to leave until she had climaxed at least once. Gently, she relaxed her legs again and felt the rod ride deeper once more. With relief, she realised that her pussy was beginning to lubricate itself, having been completely dry to start with.

She looked at Lord Cabud, but he seemed totally disinterested in her, although his gaze seemed to take in the sight of his cock's entrance into her pussy, to Helena he looked utterly detached, as though none of this was of any interest to him. A curious rage came over Helena, a determination to make him notice her fucking him, even if she had such limited movements available to her, and, yes, to make him come despite his proud claim before.

With desperate abandon, she pushed up as quickly as she could, and almost lifted herself right off his cock before just as quickly releasing the tension. With Lord Cabud pulling her back down so that she did not escape, the impact was even greater and she grunted with the force of her movement. The Lord was unmoved.

Again and again, Helena frantically pushed up and plunged down, trying every trick she had ever read in the advice columns of girls' magazines – rhythmically tensing and relaxing her pelvic muscles to excite him further, short, quick movements, long slow ones, but he remained as unmoved as ever. For Helena, though, the sensations were incredible. It was almost as if she could feel it from both perspectives at once, and her own excitement just kept growing. Despite her best efforts, she finally could not control the wave of orgasm that came over her, blasting away all her defences and intentions in a wave of pure animal reaction. Exhausted, she slumped forwards onto her master's chest, his rampant cock still inside her and unsubsiding.

Lord Cabud remained unmoved by Helena's performance and her impressive finale. Instead, as she gathered herself after the emotional avalanche, he wordlessly forced her to stand using his hold on her arms. He pulled the sash from his robe, and before Helena could piece together what he might do with it, he sprang fro his seat and trapped her wrists behind her back, tying them together using the sash. It was long enough that he could wind it round a few times, pinning her lower arms together with the tightness of his loops. Out of instinct, Helena started to struggle then but it was far too late. Her Lord was now standing behind her, having moved there to tie the knots, and he rested his hands on her shoulders, a pressure that he gradually increased, brooking no resistance, until Helena sank once more to her knees. Her tied hands were resting on the floor behind her and her breasts, at first heaving to regain her breath, were now heaving with panic. She had obviously stepped astray again, but what would her punishment be? What was her crime this time?

"You stupid bitch," Lord Cabud said as he strode round to face her again. "How many times do I have to explain to you that I can read your thoughts? Your crime was to try to defy me, to try to bring me to spill my seed within you when I had already told you that this would not happen, that I had the control to prevent it, and that I would prove this. It is the easiest thing for me to detect such defiance in the minds of my underlings, why do you continue to believe that I will overlook these deviations of yours? And, because I can read your thoughts, I know the disgust with which you regard your next duty – I had planned to save this for another time, but since you are so keen to make me come, you shall suck my manhood until you have swallowed every last drop. That, since you were wondering, is your punishment – be thankful for it."

Helena gulped as the rock-hard penis, still coated in her own fluids, hovered before her face. She knew that to delay would cause more pain, but it was more than she had ever done for anyone before, and she couldn't help but hesitate before parting her lips to allow the thick stem to pass between them.

She opened her jaw as wide as it would go, shivering with revulsion as she took the meaty object gradually deeper into her mouth. Her tongue shrank from the task, but the command had been quite clear, and her lips closed around it, still less than halfway up the shaft. She tried to meet his eyes, but he was taking no notice of her now that she was doing his bidding, and hating it, and thereby being punished for her disobedient thoughts. She began to suck and move her lips back and forth along his dick, unsure if she was doing this right, and dreading the moment when his sperm would flood her mouth. Unconsciously, she started to hasten the feared moment, her tongue finally starting to add itself to the business of stimulating Cabud's penis. She did not know if it was her desire for this episode to be over, or if Cabud's will was manifesting itself through the psychic link that he had demonstrated.

She became more eager in her ministrations and started to take the shaft deeper with each stroke so that soon it was beginning to touch the back of her throat. She licked and caressed the rod with her tongue and her lips but while it stayed as hard as ever, there did not seem to be any reaction from Cabud. She understood at the back of her mind that he was punishing her, and would hold on far longer than he would normally, simply to force her to keep on sucking and enduring this humiliating and disgusting event. The rest of her, she realised, was in the grip of his command - either verbal or psychic, she didn't know for certain, and she helplessly redoubled her efforts while at the same time just wanting to retch and cry and wash herself, her mouth, her soul. But she was a vampire now; did she even have a soul left to wash?

Helena suddenly felt something change and her whole mind was returned to the moment. She braced herself just in time to catch the spurting fluid as Cabud came deep in her mouth. She swallowed frantically to clear her airway, astonished at how much of it there was, desperate not to suffocate or miss any, for the order had been explicit – every drop. If some fell from her mouth, what would happen to her? At last it was over, a few seconds that had while they lasted seemed like all the time there had ever been.

In revulsion she fell away, her hands still tied behind her back, and sobs wracking her body. She lay there in tears while Cabud watched her dispassionately. Finally, he said, "So you want to wash? This will have to do." From somewhere he produced a bucket of water and tipped it over Helena's shivering form. He then swiftly draped a blanket over her and left the room, making sure that the doors were locked. Clearly, Helena would not be leaving for a while. Unable to make herself comfortable, she consoled herself that, as a vampire, at least she couldn't freeze to death and lay down to await the next episode in her new existence.

Part 6

It is curious how resilient a person can be and how much they can go through to get what they need. A vampire, it seemed, needed some sleep at least and Helena somehow managed to find a way to grab some while she waited for Cabud to return. So far in his care she had only been able to snatch short naps through sheer exhaustion, but it still meant that she had no idea how long she had been in this building since her first feed.

When the door opened, Helena was startled to find that she had been asleep but felt refreshed for it. Cabud strode into the room and while she was still blinking the sleep from her eyes he came to stand over her. He bent down and dragged Helena to her feet, and the damp blanket fell away. He untied her arms and she felt a sensation that she guessed was the vampiric equivalent of pins and needles as the circulation returned. The physiological changes in her had made it so that the tight bonds could not cut it off completely but the sudden increase in blood flowing through her limbs had a distinctive feel to it. She noticed as soon as she could see them that her lower arms had been bruised by the rope but – now that the rope had been removed – the bruises were healing already.

After the abuse of the previous night (if night it had been) Helena expected more punishment. Instead, Cabud gently turned her back around to face him and embraced her tenderly, kissing her with passion that took Helena back to their first night together. The night that he had killed her and made love to her at one and the same time. She melted into his arms, knowing without needing to be told, that she should let her arms hang limp at her sides instead of returning the embrace. He did love her, despite all the things that he had put her through. When he held her like this, she knew that she would take it all. He had explained about his sadism, and she understood that she should submit to him.

She felt his kiss break from her lips and travel down over her chin, but in the dream of submission that she had created for herself, she did not think of what it meant until his enhanced canines forced their way through her skin and he started to suck on her neck. She knew in her mind that he was draining her again, and that this was not good for her, but the sensation stirred something far more primal in her. Cabud was now holding her with one arm only; the other hand had moved and was now between Helena's legs, and his fingers now pushed into her vagina. As he started to move them in and out, the combination of direct stimulation and the deep submission to Cabud's teeth brought Helena to a sudden orgasm that made her cry out and spasm with its force. Cabud instantly released her as her legs collapsed from beneath her, but she did not crumple in a heap, as she would have expected. It seemed as though she fell in slow motion, seeing Cabud's suddenly cold eyes gazing down at her. She did not hit the floor either. Then she knew that the same magic that had taken her to the nightclub for her first feed was at work here, and it was not just an illusion caused by the powerful climax whose tremors were still running through her.

"Stand up!" ordered Cabud firmly so she could not help but do so, despite still being wobbly. For the first time, it seemed, since she had arrived in this castle, he offered some form of clothing. It was just a cloak but it covered her and gave her some warmth so she accepted it gratefully. It hung open so that when she walked, everything was on view, but it was better than nothing.

"Come with me," Cabud told her, "I have a treat for you." Helena gave him her hand and he led her from the room with the table, fire and chair. She followed as he led her to a staircase and they descended further. After several turns, which gave Helena the impression once again of a very big building, he showed her a nondescript door and told her to go through.

As she entered she felt something that seemed familiar but for a moment she couldn't place it. The room was dark, but just before he turned on the light, Cabud asked, "How do you feel?" For a moment Helena did not know how to answer, but as soon as the light came on, she knew. Her voice seemed strange: greedy, aggressive and rasping.

"Hungry!"

The room was small. On a low table in the centre, beneath the single light bulb, lay a blonde woman in her late 20's or early 30's, who was securely fastened in place with heavy chains. She was slim, with smallish breasts, and spread-eagled on her back with her long hair spilling out around her head and down to the floor. When she heard Helena's answer she screamed. Helena shook her head, trying to reject the obvious inference. Her body and her instincts ignored the remnant of her conscience. Before the scream had died from the woman's lips Helena's fangs were out and her head was bending to take the bite.

"Please, no!" whispered the woman, "I didn't do anything!" The words meant nothing to Helena. Her mind was coursing with the thrill of having her prey helpless and ready to be eaten. She was hungry, drained by Cabud's kiss upstairs, and now it was time to feed. The woman's second scream rang out as Helena's fangs started to penetrate her throat but was cut off moments later as she plunged them deep. As the blood started to flow, Helena became like an animal, but with a cold, evil sense of what she was doing that revelled in it. She didn't just suck the blood now, but started to tear at her prey and rend the flesh between her teeth. The woman struggled against her bonds, but was unable to scream in the pain that she undoubtedly felt.

Cabud watched, enjoying as the woman looked at him in one last despairing, silent, pleading gesture before she quivered and died. She had been a business partner until she had started to talk a little too freely about his other habits, and in particular the existence of this place. The manner of her death pleased him greatly, for she had deserved something violent and bloody. Finding Helena had been a bonus that gave him the opportunity to do it this way. Helena's responses had also been better than expected, and she would clearly become a great asset and even successor.

Helena stopped only when there was no more blood to be drawn from the corpse. She stood, and could feel the energy in her bones and muscles. She knew everything about her had changed inside and she knew that she wanted to embrace everything about her new life.

Part 7

Cabud grabbed Helena by the arm, seeing the new fire with which she burned underneath. He knew where to go now. He didn't bother speaking to her but pulled her along. She didn't resist, but he moved quickly enough to make sure that she was always off-balance. They climbed a flight of stairs, his strength preventing her from falling when she stumbled. The first door in that corridor was open and Cabud threw Helena inside.

The decor was deep claret red, with velvet and silk as dominant themes. In the centre was a four-poster bed and Helena urgently shed her cloak as Cabud followed her into the room, and she flung herself onto the bed, turning to face her master.

"Take me now," she cried, "You know I need it! Please, I'm begging you! Fuck meeee!" For all the power and energy she felt, she could not command the one thing that mattered to her now. Cabud gazed imperiously at her as he slowly removed his clothing while Helena continued pleading for his cock in her pussy, spreading her legs wider and thrusting her chest out further in every effort to arouse her master and make him speed up.

In her hunger, it seemed to Helena that it took him forever but in fact it was only a couple of minutes. Finally Cabud stepped from the small pile of his garments and showed her his cock hanging flaccid before him. Helena was aghast that she had so utterly failed to turn him on, and that she should be denied the release that she now needed with a fury that she had never known before. Desperately she turned over and crawled to the edge of the bed, opening her mouth wide in offering, determined to perform the hated task if that was what it took to have a hard penis in her vagina. Cabud saw what she intended and smiled but shook his head.

Helena sat up on her haunches with a dismayed look on her face, but before she could vocalize the question, "What can I do to get you to fuck me?" Cabud produced a set of handcuffs from behind his back. He threw them to Helena, who needed no instruction but put them on her wrists. Such was the power of Cabud's link, she knew that she should put them on in front of her, not behind. She looked into Cabud's eyes as she closed the first bracelet and she continued to squeeze. She felt the metal start to bite her but did not stop until Cabud nodded. Already her hand was beginning to feel numb from the pressure, but she managed to perform the same routine for the other wrist. She lay back onto the bed, experiencing the softness as if for the first time, while Cabud advanced to the foot of the bed. She watched in awe as the mighty rod engorged itself until it reached its full length, then Cabud climbed onto the bed, kneeling over Helena as she stretched her arms above her head.

Helena waited, but she could scarcely control the urge to lift her body, to writhe before him, to sit up and pull him down onto her. She had hungered for blood and now, after the frenzy downstairs, she hungered more and more for sex, for Cabud's sex, fast and hard and violent and in her. She wanted to return these things but if she made one move out of place, she was sure that Cabud would torture her through denying her any release. She did not even dare to speak lest her hunger go unfulfilled. Her body was tingling all over, cursing her for the denial of physical sensation. And Cabud had once more stopped, simply looming over her without making any move to penetrate as she so dearly wished. A crescendo of unsatisfied desire tore through her as the full impact of her recent feeding reached her system. It was the moment Cabud had been waiting for.

Helena screamed as her senses went into overdrive and at the same time Cabud drove his ramrod cock deep into her body. Cabud lay on top of her, reaching up to hold her by her arms while he pumped into Helena with his full force again and again. Each thrust tore another scream from Helena. Neither pleasure nor pain, these screams were something far more primal, a simple release of overloaded sensation. It did not take long for her experience to culminate in an orgasm that seemed to bring the world to ruin around her. She did not notice that Cabud had timed his own climax to coincide with hers but noticed as he drew out and stood once more. She tried to reach for him, to bring him back and repeat the experience but he shook his head, speaking for the first time since he had brought her here.

"More than that would literally kill you," he said, "And you have demonstrated remarkable self-control so that would be a waste. In fact, you will never experience that again, for that was the First Blood. You welcomed it this time, while you resisted the urge when you killed before, so it was this time that you were taken by it."

He returned to the bed and sat down beside Helena, before continuing, "Now you are truly a vampire, a hunter of the night. The First Blood completes in the mind what the First Bite starts in the body. I did go on one time to give a girl a second orgasm on her First Blood, but as I say, it killed her. She deserved it, of course, because she was stupid and lacked the skills that you have so quickly learned. It must have been an incredible way to die."

Part 8

Cabud unfastened the handcuffs and released Helena, leaving her alone once more. Sated at last, and with the incandescent First Blood orgasm fading from her as she sprawled across the bed, Helena was at last ready to sleep.

It seemed to her that the bed was more luxurious than any that she had ever experienced. Maybe that was simply because she had known such discomfort over last few days that any softness seemed glorious; or maybe it was because her vampire senses were heightened and she could feel the touch of the sheets more keenly than before to sense the pleasure that they could give. Whatever the case, Helena bathed in the warmth of the mattress, and drew the covers over her to go into a deep sleep.

Helena dreamed as she slept. She was running through a thick forest, her bare feet stumbling on uneven ground and her rough woven dress tattered by dozens of snagging thorns and branches from brambles and trees around her. She was being chased by something terrifying; more fearsome than wolf or bear or wild boar, this creature was thinking, it knew what it was doing and was coldly intelligent in its pursuit of its prey. Her only hope was to find help from some huntsman or warrior who could kill the manlike beast. Others, Helena seemed to know in her dream, had died recently by this mysterious new predator. Tales came from other villages of similar deaths there. These thoughts flashed briefly through the mind of the frightened girl as she raced through the wild wood, seeking sanctuary somewhere away from the permanent twilight caused the thick leafy canopy above.

Always concentrating on her next move, there was no time to brood on how she had wandered from the main group of mushroom-pickers. One wrongly-placed foot and she would become a meal for whatever it was that had killed half a dozen other young men and women. Always alert for a sign of habitation or of human presence, that would enable her to find safety.

There! A clearing off to the right, and just maybe a hint of smoke from some huntsman's fire, perhaps? Dream-Helena seized upon the shred of hope. Maybe now she would escape the fate of her compatriots. Behind her, she could hear again the sounds of her pursuer. Maybe she would make it. Maybe there would be someone there to end the horror.

The girl burst into the clearing and, sure enough, a tall man waited there, a long, powerful spear pointing in Helena's direction, for he would not have known what was tearing through the forest towards him. Still he did not, for Helena knew she was not the only creature abroad in the shady woodland. She quickly tried to tell him that she was being chased, but he rapidly walked over to her and pulled her to his side. He seemed to know instinctively that there was a greater threat there. His attire was strange: he wore gloves on a warm spring day, and a broad-brimmed hat that cast shade over all his face. It seemed as though every inch of his skin was covered somehow, but the girl whom Helena had become in the dream did not wonder at it, relieved now that she had someone ready to protect her.

As if from afar, recognition came to Helena, but it was not a part of the dream: she did not know the face as the events unfolded but had seen him thousands of years later. If there had been a part of her still in touch with her old self then she would have been screaming uselessly for the girl to flee once more, but now there was only delicious anticipation. For the man was unquestionably Cabud, in his early days.

But the bite and death that she had expected did not follow in this dream. The girl instead saw an old woman, with maybe as many as 40 summers, emerge from the woods. Had this woman been the creature whose sounds had chased Helena this far? Was she herself fleeing from the terror that definitely had accosted Helena earlier? The hunter and the woman seemed to know one another. The spear was dropped to the floor.

Then the man's grip was on her arms like a metal trap, and his touch was like the Spirit of Winter that withers all living things. The girl struggled, knowing now what waking Helena could have told her: this was no saviour, but a demon of the night, whose skin could never know the kiss of the sun and who had killed many victims across the land, and was now preying on yet another village that would be left in fear long after he moved to new hunting grounds to start again. Her efforts were in vain, and she cried out to the lady standing before her for help, but the woman just laughed, and the laugh was like the clattering of human skeletons as they are collected to be carved into trophies of war.

Helena screamed in the dream in one last effort to be rescued, but the clearing was far away from any human ear. The woman used the moment to jam a ball of cloths into Helena's open mouth, and then still struggling, Helena was dragged into the shade at the side of the clearing, where they laid her on her back in the damp earth. The woman placed a firm foot onto Helena's chest that she would not shift, despite the girl's continued efforts.

"She smells sweet, and her heart beats strongly after her run," said the man whom waking Helena knew as Cabud. "She will be good for you, Cabudith."

"No, Samink," replied the woman, "You found her, you caught her. She is yours to take first."

"Then I will make full use of her, for she is untouched by man, and I perceive her maidenhead remains intact. Bring her, and we will make a great pleasure of this."

Helena was once again lifted by the two vampires (for undoubtedly they were both of that breed) and carried a little further. She was placed with her back against a tree while the woman, Cabudith, held her wrists firmly and stretched the girl's arms high above her head. In a lighting-quick movement, Samink drew his long hunting knife and plunged it through the girl's palms that were lying one on top of the other, and pinning them to the tree with the force of his blow. Helena could see the light in her captors' eyes as they saw the blood trickling down from the wound.

Now in the safety of the deep shade of the tree canopy, Samink removed his clothing and stood before the quivering, whimpering girl. Helena watched from within the body of the girl as the full glory of Samink's manhood became apparent. The remnants of the girl's dress were torn from her by Cabudith and Samink brought the tip of his erection to the entrance of the virgin girl's pussy. Cabudith removed the gag from the victim's mouth, her cold grey eyes drinking in the sheer terror in her victim's face. Samink's hands gripped Helena's hips and he readied himself for the deflowering of his prey.

Helena felt the full length of the vampire's cock tear through her hymen and plunge mercilessly onwards towards her womb. It was not a scream but a long, drawn out wail of utter anguish and humiliation that erupted from the girl's lips. She had been taught to save herself for her husband, intended to be one of the chieftain's younger sons. Now she was worthless as well as doomed to be the latest fatality in the vampires' reign of terror.

Helena felt her body being pounded, and limply responding to the brutal force that Samink put into his thrusts. Her back was being bruised against the cruel bark of the tree and her hands sometimes were having to take her entire weight on that vicious knife that had transfixed them. The part of her that had recognised Samink as being Cabud knew that the way he was using this girl, he would not be turning her as he had done Helena. The dreaming Helena just knew the pain that the girl had experienced. True enough, Samink climaxed quickly as the girl shuddered in revulsion at what had been done to her. Only then did the feeding begin.

Samink unsheathed his fangs and showed them to the girl, but she was past caring: the horror of her rape had left her in shock and unable to interpret the events around her. Cabudith's fangs had no effect either on the broken girl's emotions.

Blood was trickling from the torn a battered entrance to Helena's vagina, mingling with the seed of Samink's manhood. To it, Cabudith was drawn as Samink smoothly bit into Helena's neck. At once, the girl stiffened and croaked a protest but the damage was done and her voice would never be heard again. Simultaneously, Cabudith used one fang to open a gash in the wall of Helena's vagina, so that she was suckling at the opening in order to feed, her tongue massaging the sensitive flesh around the wound.

Helena was drawn at once to her own experience of Cabud's teeth in her neck, and to the discovery of what the nameless girl from the club had felt when Helena had taken her first feed. She felt her dream-self retreat from the body as the girl nailed to the tree by Cabud's knife, expired.

But the dream did not end. The vampires faded from the picture, and Helena found herself facing the girl whose experiences she had just shared. She was still nailed to the tree, but the knife had been taken and replaced by some other means of fastening her. The girl's eyes opened and her lips moved, though no sound came out. In the dream, Helena was able to lip-read the words as the girl "spoke" them.

"They never found me. How many more must there be? When will you stop hurting us?"

Helena felt her hand reach out, but there was no hand to see. Still, she felt her fingers touch the girl's forehead. Her voice, sounding strange and tinkling like icicles breaking, but still unmistakably her own voice, replied, "You die to feed us. It will never end."

The dream ended, and Helena slept on undisturbed by the accusation of Cabud's early victim.

Part 9

When Helena awoke, Cabud was beside her bed and looking at her. Gently, but irresistibly, he commanded her to lie where she was. Helena did not have any wish to move yet, but it could become awkward if he did not release her from the order later. He had things he wished to say, he told her, and wanted her undivided attention.

"I know what you dreamed last night. Despite my order that you should not know my name until you had won your freedom from me, yet it has been revealed to you. And as you have already guessed in your mind, for I see it there, yes: Cabudith is but the feminine form of Cabud. The word is a title in a language older than any written tongue, and long forgotten in an age before I was born - except by the vampires. The word is best translated as "ruler" or "master". The female vampire in your dream was the one who turned me, and whom I therefore had to call Cabudith. One day, you will yourself be a Cabudith, that much is clear to me.

"Well do I remember that day of which you dreamed: it was the first of many adventures into daylight that my Cabudith and I devised, and took place as evening was drawing close. Even so, the sunburn itched for days afterwards. But I think the girl tasted the sweeter for the work that had to go into catching her. I was the creature who originally split her from her fellows, and Cabudith chased her while I sprinted on ahead to the clearing, where she would be given that brief hope and respite that would make her final fear and despair so much more delicious.

"I do not know why you dreamed of her, but it is obvious that I must watch your development carefully. By the way, I am no longer Samink. I took a more modern name centuries ago, and now go by Samuel. It is never shortened to Sam, however that may be the current trend. I hope that you will remember your place, however."

"Yes, my Lord Cabud," intoned Helena from the pillow.

"Good girl. Now, your lessons must continue. Come with me."

Helena rose to her feet in a single flowing motion, and as Samuel, Lord Cabud, started walking she fell in behind him as he led her once more through the great building where he resided. She ignored her nakedness, for Lord Cabud would have instructed her to wear something if his plans required it, and the cool air flowing past her skin was pleasant as a contrast to the warm comfort of the bed from which she had just arisen. They climbed higher in the building, whose external nature Helena still did not know, and then followed another corridor that seemed to Helena to be at right angles to the ones that she had used before. Then the corridor turned sharply to the left and Helena could see that she was many storeys above the ground, looking out across the city below. She could see that the windows faced west, for the hills on the horizon were distinctive. Behind those hills, the sky was deep red, fading through to the deep blue-black of night. At first, Helena started at the sight, for it seemed that she was now faced with the sun, but without anything to protect her skin from its fire. But the sun was below the horizon and sinking further from view, as its position in the west gave testimony.

Cabud did not pause, so Helena had to follow him still. He spoke, though.

"I have brought you this route so that you may see how impotent the sun really is: as you see, he dies away always and leaves us free to act without hindrance. And now even his old limiting of our lives is finally driven back: the inventions of modern men that satisfy their craving to bathe in the heat of the sun have freed us forever of his tyranny of the day!" He had not stopped walking, so when he finished he and Helena were already turning back into the building and away from the panoramic view. Helena decided that the building was probably some form of office block, at least from the outside, because of the windows and how they had looked. This corridor certainly had the look of a modern workplace, although she had seen all manner of interior designs during her stay in Cabud's domain. It probably didn't mean anything.

There were more stairs leading upwards, and finally a room where the next stage of Helena's development would take place. It was not large, and brightly lit with white walls. At one end was a bank of soundproofed windows, on the other side of which was some sort of control room as though this was a sound studio or something similar. A metal strip ran across the centre of the room from one side to the other, parallel to the windows. A circle was drawn in red around the central point of the room, with the colour going over the metal. Helena could also make out that a very narrow groove ran down the centre of the red line, effectively making the circle's inner into a separate part of the floor. The meaning was not obvious to her, although she imagined that the circle was some sort of pressure-pad that was activated by the controls that ran underneath the metal plates (which presumably lifted up for maintenance purposes).

Having drawn these conclusions, she was not surprised when Cabud Samuel told her to stand in the circle. She did so, and a whirring from the ceiling caused her to look up. A rope was descending from a hatch that had opened, at the end of which was a sturdy pair of handcuffs. Soon the handcuffs were hanging directly in front of Helena's chest. She looked at Cabud pleadingly, but his look and the tacit instruction from his mental power over her was unshakable. She put the handcuffs on herself and waited.

Cabud opened a panel in the metal strip, but it was not a maintenance hatch. From it he drew forth from a reel a long piece of bare copper wire that made perfect contact with the metal strip once the panel was closed again. This he tied around Helena's ankle, and at last the nature of the room and the purpose of the various items that she had observed became clear to Helena. She struggled against the handcuffs, but she could not move out of the circle: Cabud had ordered her to stand there, and so she must. Cabud himself left by the door where they had entered and before long he appeared at the control panel in the window. Helena saw that she had been positioned by him to face towards him there.

"Please, no!" she begged, knowing that he couldn't hear her, but he would surely see her lips move and read their meaning?

Cabud flicked a switch and hidden speakers transferred his voice into the chamber, "This is one of the parts that I enjoy most, and I like to make it last a long time. I even video record it now that such technology has been invented, and that is why the room is so brightly lit. This is where you start to learn about the things that can still hurt and harm a vampire, even with our incredibly adaptive bodies. As you have already guessed, we are starting with electricity. A new devilry to be sure, at least as used by men, but vampires have been killed by being struck by lightning before now! Of course, I can also use this method to punish you for displeasing me. But for now, let the lesson commence!"

Helena found that the first step was to hoist her into the air by her arms as he had done on her first night in the castle (whatever the outside looked like, this was a modern-day castle and there was no other way that she could think of it). The winch that had lowered the rope now raised it again until Helena had to stretch her toes to the limit just to keep touch with the floor. In her panicked state of mind, Helena did not think about whether it was worth doing or not. In fact it made no difference, because the copper wire maintained the circuit and had plenty of play so that it would not snag or break if the victim kicked and struggled under the influence of the current. Helena was now looking upwards, her head pressed back by the pressure of her arms, when she had a sudden flash of hope: the rope was pure hemp. It had no metal filaments in it that she could see, so how could electricity be delivered to her body? Perhaps this was all just an elaborate ploy to play on her fears.

Then more panels opened in the ceiling, and the hope was dashed. From them descended robotic arms that were clearly operated by a set of joysticks in the control room, out of sight of the dangling victim. There were six of them in total, three in front and three behind Helena.

Cabud's voice broke the tense silence, "I have adapted this facility as technology has allowed; the basic form that you see now has been in place for something like thirty years, in which time half a dozen new vampires have been where you are now, as well as countless men and women who have offended me – or were the family members of people who had done so. Now it is your turn."

The arm to Helena's front left came to life under Cabud's control. He guided the electrical terminal with practised skill towards Helena's left breast. The head of the arm opened and a sharp-pointed shape was revealed. That in turn opened out to provide a small dish whose purpose was obvious: to cup around the breast of the unfortunate woman who happened to be the object of Cabud's ministrations. The dish docked with Helena's chest with no difficulty, and then the full horror of the torturer's imagination was revealed. The dish began to close once more, clamping tightly onto the bosom of its victim. But that was not all that happened: as it did so, a spike in the centre of the dish began to extend. The skill of Cabud was revealed in its diabolical detail, for the spike was placed directly over Helena's nipple, and drove deeper and deeper against her, but not quite drawing blood by the time that the mechanism driving the spike and the tightening cup ceased its operation. Swiftly, Cabud changed his controls and the front-right arm repeated the procedure so that Helena was now held firmly by her bosom by metal cups like clamps, and with her nipples painfully depressed by the metal spikes.

It felt like a firecracker going off in her chest. She twitched violently as the surge of electricity zapped into her. She screamed, with a force that seemed as though she was trying to alleviate the impact of the electricity by passing that violence into her voice. It wasn't until a couple of seconds had passed, that she realised that it had only been her right breast that had been zapped. She realised, in fact, just slightly before the point was demonstrated more graphically by her left breast being treated to a similar explosion of pain. The terminals at the ends of the different robotic arms were independently triggered.

Another fact escaped her notice in her confused state following the two electric shocks. This was that the robotic arms had moved with her as she swung, so that she could not, accidentally or deliberately, jerk free from the dishes on her breasts. Cabud had had over three decades to discover every flaw and correct them before Helena became his latest torture subject.

Then Cabud beat out a syncopated rhythm on Helena's bosom, the beat too quick for her to scream every time the current flowed, so that her cries simply formed a second rhythm in counterpoint to that of the buzzing electricity. She swung wildly, her legs jerking of their own accord as she tried to pull herself away from the shocks but always came swinging back so that she was in a crazy oscillation, twisting as well as swinging. Cabud kept up the barrage for over a minute, by which time Helena was sweating profusely and had no more breath to scream.

When her macabre dance of pain subsided, Helena heard through her jangled senses Cabud announcing that this had been a demonstration of a mild setting for the apparatus. She could not imagine pain more severe than what she had just endured, but she believed without a doubt when Cabud told her that the maximum setting would kill her easily.

Behind Helena, where she could not see, two more robotic arms descended from the ceiling, both of them armed with long spikes as their electrodes. These Cabud guided until they nestled in Helena's armpits, then eased them forwards so that the spikes rested on either side of the still-trapped breasts. He then brought them in slightly so that they touched gently against Helena's skin. She started, and tried to look down to where she could feel the cold metal touching her, but to no avail.

Both of the new electrodes were triggered at once, but this time there was no swaying, no possibility of the reflex jerk away, because she was assaulted from both sides and had no way of escaping the ravages. All Helena could do was scream once more, though the sound now was not the simple cry of pain, no mere extreme gasp from an impact, but mingled into that was the wail of a helpless, trapped female pleading for mercy. Helena knew that there would be none, but the pain drew the sound from her heart anyway. This time, the electrodes stayed live for several seconds before the agony ceased, Helena feeling blinded by the assault. There was a pause, then it started again and Helena fought hard to control the urge to scream again, determined not to beg for something that she knew she could not have. Instead, her mouth hung open soundlessly as she panted desperately to counter the convulsions that ran through her ribs. This time, the electrodes did not rest in one place but slowly slid down Helena's sides, past her chest and moving gently inwards to her waist, where the spasms briefly seemed to be winning over the force of the electrodes holding her in place. Her hips were swinging from side to side, as though trying to shrug off the painful implements, but even though Helena was now swaying once more, it was not a quick oscillation and the latest technology made it easy for the robotic arms to maintain contact as the electrodes continued down until they rested firmly against Helena's thighs, where the motors of the arms now exerted a relentless pressure that forced Helena's legs together. Then the pain stopped.

The spikes moved away from Helena's sides and the cups released her breasts, leaving her hanging in a perfectly straight line from her wrists to her toes. She waited, drawing breath, recovering from the effects of the power that had used her body as a conduit from live to earth. The arms withdrew to passive positions away from Helena. Maybe that was it. Maybe Cabud had done all that he wished to do to her. But that was unlikely, for as Helena knew, he was a sadist and he had promised her that this would last a lot longer than necessary. Still Helena waited, dangling by her wrists from the ceiling.

A fifth robotic arm descended from its panel in the ceiling, this one directly in front of Helena, and she felt a tremor of utter horror run through her and, with a deep sense of shame, she once more lost control of her bladder as she had done when Cabud whipped her on her first night as his slave.

The source of Helena's terror was the shape of the electrode, which was a giant dildo that seemed to her to measure 18 inches or more in length, ad was proportionally thick. The prospect of being raped by a robotic electrode was too much for her to contemplate, with the unfortunate biological response. The pee ran down both her legs to pool on the floor panel beneath her feet, and tears of shear humiliation ran down her cheeks. Adding to her sense of degradation was the fact that she could feel her pussy making itself wet. It didn't matter that it was simply a protective measure to ease the imminent passage of a foreign invader, the implication was that she was turned-on by the prospect, even though she had wet herself in fear at the same time. All of this, she just knew that Cabud could see, and maybe read in her mind, and that was just the final topping to the maelstrom of shame that filled Helena at that moment.

The piss just kept on flowing, more and more as Helena's bladder emptied itself completely, leaving broad patches of urine-soaked skin down Helena's thighs. She had not realised just how full it had been until the floodgates were opened by shock and fear.

Even as the flow finally reduced to a trickle and then stopped, the head of the diabolical device bumped against her soft entrance. Helena knew that she was becoming wet down there, but even so the girth of the thing was great, and she was not willing, so at first it simply pushed her backwards rather than gaining access to her secret tunnel. Then Helena felt cold metal stripes against her buttocks and knew that the spikes that had stroked her sides were now laid across her behind to force her body onto the horrific steel cock that was driving its way into her body from the fore.

The pressure was relentless, and Helena felt her pussy-lips parting for the head of the electrode and already being stretched apart. She could not help herself, but tried to spread her legs wider to relieve the painful advance. Further and further apart she forced her thighs, giving the robotic arm the best possible access to her, because she was sure that she would be torn apart if she did not. She tried to relax her inner muscles also, but the horror of her situation made it hard to will her body to release its tension so easily. On and on the evil mechanism thrust. Every time she thought that she could not possibly take any more, it would prove her wrong and force a further quarter-inch inside. Finally, when Helena was sure that she would die from the effects of the penetration, let alone the electricity, the motors ceased and she came to a rest, part of her weight now borne by the metal cock itself.

Helena tried to brace herself for the shock, but nothing could have prepared her for the agony that blazed in her womb and through her abdomen. She howled, her arms managing to lift her several inches as her elbows flexed almost involuntarily. Her bowels opened and her faeces joined her urine on the floor. The shock lasted only a second or two, but it might as well have been an eternity in Helena's mind. Then the bars across her backside went live, delivering another angle of attack. Helena's muscles jerked her forwards, away from the shock, but that only thrust her even harder upon the massive dildo in front. As she did so, the dildo shocked her again, though less severely than the first time. That drove her back, and of course the bars were still live causing her to jerk forwards once more. Once more, at the moment of deepest penetration, Cabud triggered the dildo's current.

Impossibly stretched, Helena could take no pleasure from the action, but the electricity was driving her into a hideous simulation of wildly fucking the robotic arm. She was giving yelps of pain all the time, which only added to the effect, suggesting that she was enjoying it immensely rather than in the throes of terrible agony. The motion went on and on, Helena no more able to stop herself after minutes had passed than she had been at the start, for the muscle movements were reflexes that she could not prevent. She lost all sense of time or place, and became in her mind just an object composed of sheer, pulsing pain. Nothing could save her, nothing existed except the metal in her pussy and the metal on her arse, and the shocks that they gave her over and over again, in rapid succession.

Eventually, Cabud tired of the spectacle and allowed Helena to come to rest once more with the facsimile of manhood buried within her, and the spikes resting flat across her behind. Now, he caused one of the cups that had held Helena's tits in place to fold itself once more into a bud. This he directed squarely towards Helena's mouth, and though Helena fought it, it could not be denied access. Scraping her teeth along it as it forced her jaw and lips as wide as they would go, it advanced until Helena could feel its tip resting on the back of her throat.

Helena was already past caring. The electric fucking that she had been forced to endure had driven all the fight, all the emotion and all the awareness from her. Perhaps she would have been able to resist the mouth-electrode more effectively otherwise. Once it was in, she relaxed. Her lips closed upon the shape and she simply relaxed. The electric shock was no surprise when it came, the new variety of painful stimulus adding only an awareness that such was possible, but no longer penetrating the broken will that resided in Helena.

Cabud continued to shock her in many varied ways and places, but the rest of the session was but a blur to Helena, who had passed into a trancelike state beyond sensation, where she was aware of what was happening to her body but isolated from it by some protective mechanism that her mind had somehow generated to save her from the dreadful extremes. Perhaps it was akin to hypnotism and left her very suggestible, but this was no interrogation to discover facts about her activities and beliefs. It was simply a demonstration of her Master's power.

The session did not last much longer. Cabud Samuel was aware of Helena's mental state all the time, and used the last part of the session simply to test how it responded to the options at his disposal. In so doing, he gained a much deeper understanding than before of Helena and how her mind worked. There were things about her that made her very interesting to him, and he suspected now that there was a great potential in her.

After a minute or two in which no further jolts of electricity were delivered through her body, Helena emerged from her daze. The robotic arms had retracted into the ceiling. When she was again fully aware, and able to recall what had happened, a deep sense of shame once again swamped her as she recalled pissing and shitting herself under the influence of Cabud's ministrations. As though he had read her thoughts (and, Helena reflected, he probably had), Cabud announced over the speakers that it was time for her to be cleaned up.

"Just wait there," he said, a smirk in his voice for she had no other option, "You are not the only person to lose their self-control in that situation, so I am well-prepared for this eventuality!"

Then several high-powered water jets struck Helena from all sides, ice-cold and needle-sharp it seemed to her. Her bodily waste beneath was being flushed towards a cavity that had opened in the floor, while the sweat and urine and shit that still stuck to Helena's body were washed away by the blasting water, until she and the floor below were cleaned completely.

Then the winch holding her up simply let go, and she collapsed to the floor in a sodden heap. Her hands, still cuffed together and attached to the rope, came in front of her and she adopted a foetal position on the floor, tears running down her cheeks as the emotions returned.

That was how Cabud found her when he re-entered the room shortly afterwards.

Part 10

Cabud lifted Helena gently, and carried her cradled in his arms through the labyrinth of his home. She was aware in these moments that, no matter what torments she experienced at his hands, this man cared for her in some way, dark and alien to the human world though it may be. And she felt such a strong connection to him that, in other circumstances, she would have called love. It was other than that, but akin to it, she knew, and was driven by the mystical bond that defined the relationship of new vampire to old. She was content to accept the balance of care and cruelty that would from now on surely shape her life.

Cabud took Helena via an elevator to a room that appeared to be a modern executive office, with an expansive teak desk on which sat papers and a powerful computer and all the paraphernalia of the high-flying businessman. Cabud laid Helena on the floor and then commanded her to rise to her feet.

"From here I run my business empire, both legitimate and covert," Cabud explained. "These days, it seems that my work is never done, even though I have very capable executives in my employ who supposedly oversee everything. But so many things must be balanced at once, that there are always policy matters to attend to. Power, even such power as mine, brings its own burdens as well as...rewards.

"Helena, move my usual chair to one side, please."

Helena did not hesitate to obey her master's command, and placed the luxurious seat at the desk at the other end of the desk, struggling to manoeuvre it with her hands still linked by the cuffs.

"Now, take the place of the chair. No, not 'stand in the chair's place', but 'fill the chair's role'." Helena had looked confused as she positioned herself by the desk, until Cabud elaborated on his original command. Helena knew that he had deliberately set out to confuse her, for his true wish should surely have been communicated by the vampiric link between them otherwise. That did not stop her feeling humiliated twice over: once for failing to understand the order, and again because of the nature of the order. Nevertheless, she got down on her hands and knees and waited for Cabud to seat himself. He was not satisfied with her posture, however.

"Head down, and all your hair cascading to the floor about your face, Helena. It wouldn't do for you to see things that you are not meant to, and besides, I prefer a woman with her head bowed." Helena complied, but still she was left waiting. Cabud, it seemed, was dressing for the moment – he was busy putting on a smart shirt and tie, and well-ironed trousers that he dew from a closet in a corner of the office. Once satisfied with his attire, he pulled forth a comb and adjusted his hair before finally he was pleased with his change of persona.

Helena felt him start to sit, and using the skills that she had already learned under the cane she adjusted her flesh to be able to take more easily the weight of the man sitting on her. She felt the soft but slightly scratchy sensation of the trouser fabric against her back and the slight shuffle as Cabud found the best positioning of his buttocks. Cabud then told her, "A little softer, Helena. You are too hard."

Helena willed her flesh to be more pliant, and thus more comfortable for her master. It also heightened her sensation of his weight and the strain that it placed upon her, and brought a low groan from her lips. Then she was settled and her master proceeded with his work.

It did not take very long for her limbs and back to develop aches and, with nothing to occupy her except the small patch of carpet and the soft sounds of Cabud working away above her, there was no way to distract herself from the new torment. At least it was a plush, thick rug beneath her and her knees and hands were not suffering as much as they might have done otherwise. Time ticked by and the aches became worse, and Helena wondered what sort of business it was that Cabud was conducting right now: was it legitimate, or (as he had put it) "covert"? What branch of business was it? Who was going to carry out his commands? But there was no way to find out without lifting her head, and his command had been specific to the point that she had to ensure that her hair fell in a curtain that stopped her seeing anything beyond it.

She did not know how long she was there, playing the part of a chair for the pleasure of a vampire whose delight was to hurt her and make her submit. But she knew exactly when it ended.

"It is now exactly 7:30pm on Monday evening," announced Cabud suddenly from his position at the desk. Helena did not recognise the significance of this any more until Cabud stood and told her, "You have to be at your barmaid job in half an hour. Stand up, and I will prepare you, then I will deliver you on time."

Helena stood. Cabud led her back through the castle, and they descended in the lift to a much lower floor. There, Cabud took Helena to a changing room where he finally undid her handcuffs and pocketed them.

"You will dress in the items that I give you and no others, until you must change into your uniform for work. I will give you other instructions as you dress, some of which will be longer-lasting."

Cabud opened the locker in the room and handed to Helena a black corset. The size of it made Helena wonder if this was some cruel joke, and that Cabud must surely release her from the command very soon, for it seemed to be designed for a doll, not a human being. It was not joke, however, for Cabud then said, "You will need some help with that, and you will need the skills you have already learned."

Helena knew what he meant, and softened herself throughout her body in preparation for the garment as Cabud helped her into the corset. It was a real struggle to lift it past her hips, but eventually it was in the right place. Then he provided the help that was really required, remorselessly tightening the strings and causing the material to begin to constrict Helena's already slim body. Already, Helena thought that she found it hard to breathe but she could tell that they were not even halfway there yet. The constriction was unbelievable and still Cabud kept on drawing the strings at her back, closing the corset ever tighter around Helena's waist. Tight, pulling pains were running through her as it became ever smaller.

Helena then felt, with alarm, the sensation of her organs rearranging themselves to accommodate the vastly restricted space. The softness that she had induced within her body seemed to be allowing drastic alterations to her physiology to take place under the requirements that Cabud's nightmare fashion placed upon her She did not know exactly what was happening, but she could feel herself being made to stand taller and straighter than she had ever done before, not just by the pressure that perhaps any corset would place upon her, but by the very movements with her – it became necessary to do everything she could to make room for her displaced organs. The pain was constant, and quite unlike anything Helena had ever experienced – but then, she could not imagine anyone could have experienced this and lived to tell, except perhaps another vampire like her.

Finally, it was done. The corset was exquisitely designed to provide a natural curve even though it was unnaturally small, to an incredible extreme. Helena felt herself and, even though she knew that her body was at its softest, the corset had made her tight and hard beneath its press. She realised with a shock that she could touch the finger and thumb of both hands and make a continuous circle all the way around her waist.

"You now have a waist of just 12 inches," Cabud told her, "And by continuous pressure your body will reshape itself into something that truly resembles an hourglass. Even so, you will never fit into this corset without discomfort. It will give you a waist when naked of around 16 inches, though. This property of remoulding appears to last only about a week after the First Blood, but I have found it most intriguing since I discovered it in my various pupils. Needless to say, you are not to remove that corset until you see me again, and maybe not even then."

Helena had difficulty with her balance as she put on the other clothes after that. She would be wearing stockings held up by garters, and a black dress that hugged her chest and thighs tightly, but because it was designed with a normal-shaped woman in mind, she could feel it hanging free around her midriff. However, in the mirror it looked natural and nobody would be able to tell that she did not fill it fully. There was no bra, nor knickers, in the outfit that Cabud had selected for Helena, but these would not be a concern to her, because the uniform did not allow such things to show. One thing did strike her, though.

"Lord Cabud," she said, "When I change into my uniform, what will stop my skirt falling to the floor?"

"Your hips are no smaller than they were, Helena. However, your blouse might provoke an occasional stare, for it will not behave naturally when you wear it!"

Finally, she was to wear heels that were much higher than she was used to wearing. Then, sufficiently attired to satisfy her master, Helena knew it was time to go.

Cabud led her through his castle to a garage where he showed her to a top-range Mercedes, which shone brilliant white. Although so much hinged around black, or around blood, in this Helena was not surprised. The white somehow spoke of power in a way that a black car, while offering menace, could never do. It also carried in it Cabud's desire to challenge those few things that restrained him – for he had always had to operate in secrecy, and by night. Today, he had revealed to Helena his fight against the sun, and now he had found a way to be openly powerful while remaining in secret. Any car puts the driver and passenger at one remove from the observer, but here the windows were tinted as well so that knowledge of the occupant was sketchy at best.

Helena took the front passenger seat while Cabud drove. With the calm of long practice he operated the car's controls and headed towards the exit. Finally, Helena had a chance to see the building where she had spent a long weekend incarcerated. Though Helena knew it to be a castle in truth, it did indeed appear from the outside to be a tall office building, and Helena imagined that many workers were employed by Cabud in his empire, and some of them probably worked here – perhaps had done so while she was undergoing torment at their boss's hands. The thought sent a shudder through her.

They arrived at the bar where Helena worked (the "Adam's Finger" – the sign showed the famous Michelangelo image, but Helena had never quite plucked up the courage to find out if the owner intended another meaning entirely) with five minutes to spare. Cabud then laid one final command on Helena.

"To demonstrate my power over you even at a distance, I will have you do something for me. If anyone should order from you a double vodka and a pint of bitter shandy, with salted peanuts, either as a whole order or part of an order, you must offer to suck off any male members of their party, either at your break or once your shift has ended. If they accept, then you must do as you have offered, and swallow if they desire it. I demand this of you because it will demonstrate my power most effectively to have you something that I know you despise. You must not feed when you do so – in fact, you should be well sated at present so you will not wish to do so either. Now, off you go and earn your wages!"

Helena climbed from the car and noticed with a curious frisson of pride that several of her acquaintances had been approaching the Adam's Finger or leaving it, and seen her emergence from such an impressive ride. The looks on their faces gave her a boost that she had not been expecting, and it gave Helena the confidence to face the evening. The combination that Cabud had given her was not a very likely one, after all, and maybe she would go the whole evening without once being asked for that combination of drinks and snack.

Because the owner insisted on a standard uniform for his bar staff, he had given his workers the option of changing in a back room, where lockers were assigned to them. This was always Helena's choice, because she didn't like to bring her work home with her. Fortunately, there were no others who came on or off shift at the same time as Helena that night, and she had the female changing room to herself. Never normally shy, she did not want to show off her impossibly thin waist, nor the garment that was causing it, if she could help it.

The uniform was hardly outrageous: a T-shirt with a print of the image on the sign outside, a web address and phone number of the bar (for booking events) and the wearer's name, and a skirt that gave generous view of the knees but not much higher than that (it gave it an air of a 50's theme pub, in Helena's opinion, but since the bar was quite successful she didn't see any point in mentioning these thoughts to her boss). Looking in the mirror, Helena was pleased to see that the T-shirt was loose enough to hide the gaping void beneath, where she was pinched so tightly by the corset. Her hips, as Cabud had said, still made sure that the skirt stayed where it should, but she noticed that the change in her shape was accentuated by the skirt so that her hips suddenly had a much more curvy, and sexier, appearance. She was not sure if she was pleased by this or not.

She was, in the event, a few minutes late in arriving behind the bar to serve customers, but a certain amount of flexibility was allowed. She was officially there from 8pm-12 midnight and as long as she made up the shortfall some other time, she would be okay. Tuesday nights were generally quiet anyway.

* * * * *

For three hours, fifty minutes Helena was safe. The dreaded order never came and she was beginning to think that she would be able to get away with it, that Cabud's fiendish trap would not be sprung. This was until her next customer came to her with a strange look on his face, an expectant and slightly bemused look that rang alarm bells in her mind. Even as he began to speak, she was sure that he knew about the command that Cabud had laid upon her, and sure enough he asked for precisely the items that Helena had been dreading hearing all evening. A quick glance at the clock and she said to him, hoping that nobody else would hear, "If you and your mates want a blow job, meet me in the men's in ten minutes!" She had to speak fairly loudly in order to be heard but the general noise seemed to have drowned out her offer to all ears except those for whom it was intended. His smile was one that showed not surprise at being given that offer, but rather surprise that the magic words had worked.

"See you there!" he told Helena. Helena turned away to hide her disgust and shame at the thought of what she would have to do for these guys, and she instead went to fetch the order (after all, the man had placed an order). She doubted that he or his friends would actually drink the drinks or eat the peanuts, but he paid for them gladly – after all, it was a small price to pay for the service she would shortly provide, and from a woman somewhat more alluring than most of the hookers in the city.

Helena was barely able to make it through her last minutes on duty, and came close to dropping glasses more than once, although she managed to retain enough composure to ensure that she did her job. When she came off duty, she virtually dashed to the changing room. It was not in strict accordance with Cabud's instructions, but she was not going to dirty up her work clothes if she could help it, and set her mind firmly on changing into the clothes Cabud had given her, before she went to the gents'. Pain exploded in her temples as she did so, but even as she finished and headed to her appointment with an unknown number of cocks, she felt a sense of triumph: she had successfully defied Cabud's mind-control in some way, albeit a minor rebellion at most. As she approached the men's room, the pain dissipated.

As it was, she was earlier than the men who had taken advantage of Cabud's instruction. She was certain that Cabud had told them that they would get a free blowjob if they asked the barmaid called Helena for the right things. She looked around at her surroundings, a urinal that had been pristine at opening time was now filled with cigarette butts and everywhere urine soaked the floor where the spray had bounced back, or where the men had simply missed their mark (especially around the bowls in the cubicles). How any form of sex could be considered sexy in these conditions, she could not imagine. But there was no more time to ponder these matters. The man whom she was bound to service had arrived, with four friends along for the freebie.

It was obvious that the leader was not in fact the man who had triggered Cabud's command but one of the others, who presumably had put the other one up to the task of actually securing Helena's cooperation, or else discovering that the whole thing was a wind-up. The leader was slightly taller than the others, and obviously fitter and stronger. He had a dark face, with short-cropped black hair and black eyes that fixed Helena with a steely gaze. The others, by their whole demeanour, signalled that it was this man who was in charge.

"Right, whore, in the cubicle and on your knees!" commanded the leader, and Helena obeyed instantly, as much out of a wish to have the experience finished and done with as because of the power of the man's voice – but he was very obviously used to being obeyed.

"Okay, Charlie," he said to the man who had come to the bar, "You tested the water, I guess it's your right to go first!" So his name was Charles, thought Helena. Could be useful to know. It also seemed as though Charlie was the youngest of the group.

"Right you are," the young man replied, and he followed Helena into the cubicle before closing the door and latching it.

"Don't want anyone who doesn't know coming and disturbing us, do we?" he remarked to Helena, "Now, open wide and have a nice long suck." He unzipped his trousers and pulled out his penis. Helena saw that it was nowhere near as big as Cabud's, and by comparison this was going to be easy.

Helena did as she was told, taking Charlie's cock between her lips and sliding her head forwards and backwards. Hoping it was the right thing to do, she used her tongue to add further stimulation in an effort to make Charlie climax sooner. She kept her hands at her side, not sure what to do with them, and she felt Charlie taking hold of her hair.

"Oh, yes, you're good at this," he told her, "Come on, give me all you've got – then swallow all of mine!" and he chuckled. Helena knew that this would be enough to make sure that she did swallow. Tears were pricking her eyes now, but she carried on regardless with her task of sucking Charlie's cock.

He was becoming more excited, and as he did so he was jerking Helena's head with his grip on her hair and dictating the pace of her strokes on his cock. She grunted as he did so, trying to communicate her discomfort, but it seemed only to urge him on harder. Finally, she felt his prick start to jerk ready for the semen to be thrust into her. Once again, Charlie cried, "Go on, swallow the lot!" and then Helena's mouth was full of slime and she was gulping as hard as she could to take it down her gullet before she suffocated. And then it was over.

Charlie pulled up his trousers and did them up without a word to the woman who had just had his prick between her lips. He turned and undid the latch, opened the door and made way for the next man, "Ah, Bravo, your turn is it?" As well as the churning sensation in her stomach, Helena felt a sense of emptiness as she realised that Charlie wasn't a name – they were using the phonetic alphabet to conceal their identities. Something about that worried her intensely, but there was no time to ponder on the matter. Here was another cock to suck, another load to swallow. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth and got on with the job.

As it happened, Bravo and Echo didn't want Helena to swallow their cum. Bravo sprayed his in Helena's face, laughing when she tried to lick some of it away that she must really love the taste. Echo (who went last of the four underlings) aimed his into Helena's hair.

Then the leader, who by a process of elimination and guesswork had to be Alpha, entered Helena's cubicle. Helena shrank back from him as she had not done with the others, for in his eyes was a predatory look that frightened her. He handed her a piece of paper and told her to read it.

Helena read: "If they wish to tie you up or restrain you in any way, you must let them" and saw that it was signed with a sigil that, though she had never seen it before, she knew was the emblem of her Lord Cabud and that now his written words were as powerful as his spoken commands.

"I want you in handcuffs," said Alpha simply, and he proceeded to place them on Helena's wrists behind her back. Only once she was thus entrapped could Helena find any will of her own by which to struggle, but of course it was too late and that was why she could do so.

Her struggling intensified as she saw what Alpha had produced next.

"No!" she cried, but that was all that she managed, for Alpha had revealed a ball-gag that as Helena cried out he slipped deftly between her lips and teeth, silencing her protests. It also, as Helena had understood as soon as she saw it, blocked her mouth and removed any possibility that Alpha intended to use her as Cabud had intended. Fear gripped Helena, who was now helpless in this man's power. She guessed that the others had contrived to make sure that nobody entered the men's room while Alpha restrained his captive, but now there was nothing that she could do to alert others to her predicament even if they were peeing or shitting in the next cubicle along.

Alpha seated Helena on top of the toilet and pushed her back against the pipe from the overhead cistern before using a short piece of rope to tie the handcuffs to the pipe. Helena tried to kick, but he was very quick and immobilised her by grabbing the first leg that Helena swung in his direction. Lifting it high, he prevented her using the other foot as a weapon to free herself and then used another pair of handcuffs to encircle her ankle, then tied a rope to the other metal loop. Helena could not prevent his final act of restraint: a third pair of handcuffs mirrored the arrangement on Helena's other ankle and then the rope passed behind the bowl and pinned her feet back and her legs wide. Her short skirt offered no barrier to a rapist's intentions.

Alpha was a true Alpha-Male, and his penis, though still not the equal of Cabud's, was certainly bigger than the other members in his team. Helena screamed behind her gag as he forced his way into her pussy with a brutal thrust. Helena knew that she was still dry, because she simply did not have time from realising that she would be raped to the actual event, for her body's natural lubrication to take effect. Alpha seemed not to notice the lack, but pounded her with an animal ferocity that culminated thankfully quickly for Helena as he spurted his cum deep within her.

Alpha opened the cubicle door wide and said to his followers, "Anyone else want a go?" And they did. Tears ran down Helena's face as four times more she was violated and abused by these men whom her lover had set upon her.

And then the torment was over. Satisfied with their rape of her, they left Helena where she was, still exposed to any male who should happen to choose that cubicle. She knew that it must have been close to closing time at the "Adam's Finger" but the idea that anybody could come in and see her like that and maybe choose to repeat the assault on her, was more than she could bear. Without any hindrance, the tears rolled down Helena's cheeks and sobs wracked her body.

She sat where she was, cum in her hair and covering her face, dripping down onto her blouse and oozing from her abused cunt onto the toilet seat. Throughout, her clothes had remained intact but Cabud had not given her anything to wear that would be a barrier to sex, and so her rapists had not needed to tear anything. Instead, they had left her so that even if she were free, she could not leave without it being obvious to anyone who saw her that she was a slut of the lowest sort. She had no way of crying for help, because of the gag that Alpha had left in her mouth and she dreaded some late drinker coming in and deciding that he could take advantage of her condition.

She heard the door open and tensed in her bonds, as the footsteps made unerringly for her prison. The cubicle door swung open at the man's touch, but even before she could see any part of him, she knew deep within who was there: it was Cabud, and she would be saved by the one who had condemned her.

"How could you let them do that to me?" she sobbed angrily once Cabud had released her from her bonds.

"Hush! We shall talk of these things in the car. For now, we must make you look respectable enough to leave here. Wash yourself in the basin, I have a cloak here that will hide the rest of it."

Direct commands could not be ignored, and Helena did not speak again, but cleaned herself as best she could while Cabud kept watch. Once she was satisfied that she could pass for a reasonably respectable girl again, she gratefully accepted the heavy cloak from Cabud and put it on, her whole body enveloped in its black shroud and all evidence of her disgrace hidden from the outside world. Cabud put his arm around her and, although she flinched at his touch, she allowed him to escort her from the "Adam's Finger" and into the cold night air. Helena noticed that her ordeal had lasted close to three quarters of an hour and it was almost closing time.

Cabud's white Mercedes awaited the couple at a discreet distance from the bar, but not so far as to leave Helena in fear of exposure, no more than a minute at their careful pace. Once in the car, Helena asked again, "Why did you allow those bastards to rape me?"

"I did not," answered Cabud, "Though I admit that I gave them the key to trigger my command to you to give them blowjobs. However, that rape was not a part of my agreement with them and I am very angry that they have abused you thus. They must be punished! It is always a horror when the predator briefly finds him or herself to be the prey, but I can assure you that such reversals never last, and those who temporarily became the hunter soon find themselves hunted again, and their fate is always much worse than before.

"Tell me, what do you wish to do about this?"

"I want revenge!" Answered Helena, "I want to tear out their throats as they know the reason for their fate. And I want Alpha to suffer for a long time at my hands!"

"Very good! I shall see that you have the chance to wreak such revenge, for it is the vampires' way to do just as you have described. But for now you must go home and sleep, and live your life until I call you again. Alas, after your experience this night I would wish to release you from your tight garment, but its work is not yet done and you must still wear it a while longer."

Cabud drove Helena to the house she shared with two classmates and there they parted, Cabud reminding her before he drove away, "Remember, be wary of the sun and always take precautions against its power!"

Helena quietly made her way to bed. She could hear her housemates talking in the dining room/kitchen but after the intensity of the weekend and the trauma of that night, she had no wish to talk with anyone but preferred to go straight to sleep, if she could.

Part 11

Helena did sleep, deeply and without dreams that she could remember. But she was woken by a burning sensation in her face. With a start she remembered who she was now, and simultaneously that her bedroom window faced east, and she had not drawn the curtains the night before! The morning sun rising was now pouring through her window and casting its rays upon her.

Desperately, Helena rolled away from the window, falling onto the floor in the shadow of her bed. She would have to brave the brightness and cross the room to close the curtains, before she could do anything else. She remembered Cabud had told her how long it took for the sun to burn a vampire fatally, something like 20 minutes, she thought. She had no idea how long it had taken her to be woken by the sun, or how badly she had already been harmed. But it did not feel that bad, yet: she should be able to make the short distance to the window and take the necessary action. She thanked her fortune that the curtains were heavy and thick, so that very little light would enter once they had been closed firmly. At least she would be safe once she had done it.

Taking a deep breath, she dashed through the dread light and frantically pulled the curtains together. Then she went to the light switch and turned it on before going to her mirror to examine what the sun had done to her. The effect was rather like a tan that had gone slightly too far. Already her skin was peeling in patches and the only thing she could do was try to brush it off and neaten herself up before she put on her sunscreen. She would survive none the worse for the experience, but it was a shocking reminder of just how much her life had changed in a few short days.

It was still fairly early in the year, before the Spring Equinox, so it was not too early to be awake and thinking about where she had to be. She had a lecture first thing in the morning, so she would make sue that she was well covered with the cream, and then dress sensibly for the day. The tiny waist that Cabud had forced on her dictated that she would have to find some way of using loose but fairly heavy clothes to disguise her freaky body shape.

The day passed without further alarm, although Helena found it hard to concentrate on her lessons with the memory of last night's horror in her mind, and the anticipation forming every so often of the revenge that would hopefully be hers. Between each lecture, she would go to the ladies' room and refresh her coating of sunscreen: after the rude reminder of her waking that morning, she was not going to take any chances.

Many people commented on her tan and wondered how she got it, but she was evasive and told nothing, until she arrived back home and was confronted by her housemates, who wanted to know what had happened to her all weekend: as her friends they had been worried for her, and also the rent was nearly due so that if she had done a runner they would have been left in some difficulty.

Coming up with a plausible story seemed impossible, but Helena thought that she could find a tale that was close to the truth and would be far more acceptable.

"I know this sounds like the sort of thing that only happens in the movies," she said, "But this rich aristocratic guy hit on me in the club on Friday – he talked in such a posh accent, I figured it had to be for real, and it was! I'm afraid I let the glamour of his offer go to my head, and I went home with him.

"Yes. Yes, we did actually: he had the most amazing black silk sheets on his bed – I could hardly believe it! But that's not all! He has a villa in Guernsey and insisted that I join him there for the weekend, and we could fly in his helicopter.

"I know, it was really quite stupid of me, he could have been a complete pervert or something, but I thought, 'What the heck, I'm never likely to get this kind of offer ever again, let's have a taste of real luxury!' Anyway, that's how I got my face all sunburned and everything. We got back just in time for him to give me a lift in his Mercedes to the Adam's so I could keep my job. It was exciting and fun, but I don't think I could do it again, and he wasn't really my type if the truth be told. I think he was just after a one-weekend-stand as well, to be honest. I doubt I'll ever see him again."

Ally (short for Allison, "Make sure it's with TWO 'L's!") and Bev, the two housemates, thought that Helena must have been making it up but they could not deny that she had found a way to get sunburn in cloudy Britain (and she had never ever been to a tanning salon to their knowledge either), and had been nowhere to be found for nearly four days. Eventually convinced by Helena's performance, they continued to probe for details about the entire weekend, from the layout of the villa to what it was like to ride in a helicopter, from the size of his swimming pool to the size (and what he did with it) of his dick. Helena was happy to embellish her story as much as was necessary, and only hoped that she could remember all the details in case the others asked her more about it another time. They might also be on the look out for this mysterious, rich and extremely well-endowed stranger: that was why Helena decided that it was definitely a one-off event, at least until she needed to cover for further time spent in Cabud's tender mercies.

Helena spent the rest of the week more or less as normal, although she missed her usual weekly sessions in the gym and in the swimming pool because she would never be able to explain away her corset (or why she had to keep it on), and certainly not the bizarre body shape that it gave her. She attended lectures as usual in the day, and at night she studied or went to the Adam's Finger to earn her wages. Although she looked for them she did not see Alpha and his gang again.

The weekend came, and she cried off going out with her friends, staying in to carry on her studies. She worried that Cabud might have found somebody else, some other Goth chick who welcomed his teeth and was even now discovering as Helena had done, the cruelty and love of which Cabud was capable. But somehow, in the back of her mind she could always feel the psychic link thrumming with Cabud's awareness of her, and her awareness of him, and it told her that this was not true; she was not forgotten, but must wait until called.

The call eventually came a week to the hour after the horror of the gang rape. Helena had only just put her shoes on after changing out of her work clothes at the Adam's Finger, when she felt an unmistakeable tug in her mind. She could not wait any longer, and rather than stopping she simply grabbed her jacket from the coat rail on her way out.

But in the street there was no sign of the magnificent automobile in which Cabud had ferried her from his modern-day castle. But the tugging was insistent: small, but irresistible, and Helena did not want to resist. Helena did not know what to do, but centred herself, hearing in her memory the words of Cabud bout their mental link, and hoping that if she focussed herself inwards, then perhaps she would be able to – Ah, there it was! The tug was coming from over there ! And she was off, following the urging of her mind across the city, frantically tracking her elusive master, the source of the instruction.

But then that source was on the move! Was Cabud once more teasing and tormenting her? But no, he was homing in on her, was just around the next corner! And then appeared that white Mercedes like some beautiful ethereal chariot to Helena's eyes. As the car door opened and Cabud stepped out, she fell to her knees, kneeling and breathing, "My Lord Cabud Samuel, I am here!"

"And amazingly so. I did not tell you this a week ago, but you may one day become the most powerful Cabudith there has ever been. Nobody has ever known of a vampire just one week old, who has been able to follow their master across a city as you have done tonight, using only the mental bondage to guide them. But far more remarkable was your feat that night: you resisted and held back from a direct command for a minute or so, and nobody has ever done that for even a few seconds before. That I came to be your Cabud, that is something that brings a thrill to me greater than any in over a century!

"But there is more immediate and important business to attend to. Stand up! For I have found the identities of those men who maliciously attacked you and dishonoured you. It appears," he said, "That they were a team of off-duty policemen. Do you still want to do this?"

"I do. I will tear out their throats – except Alpha: I want him in your electric chamber so he may feel what I felt there, and worse!"

"Then it shall be as you wish!"

Cabud took Helena's hand and they moved rapidly through the city, keeping to the shadows and the unwalked paths, using that mode of travel that Cabud had used when he took Helena hunting for the first time. That night, the lesbian student had been her first, reluctant, taste of blood. This time, she was hunting for real, for her own purposes, and craving the taste of blood and vengeance mingled on her lips.

The first place they visited was a flat on the ground floor: there lived Gary Hetton, AKA "Echo" when he and his mates were on the town. He was unmarried, and lived alone. A crashing of glass alerted the sleeping PC Hetton to his peril, and he drew from his bedside table a pistol. He wondered why the alarms had not sounded and had just thrown aside the covers when two people burst into the room, a girl and a taller, dark and looming man.

Helena saw Echo sit up, holding a gun in his hand. But she recalled what Cabud had told her about surviving a gunshot as a vampire, and willed her body to take the right properties. As it was, Echo's gun was not real, but a replica airgun designed to fire small plastic pellets – and it was not loaded. It was there only to bluff intruders into surrendering, and here was an intruder who could not be intimidated.

Helena saw that the man slept naked, and an idea sprang into her head.

"Do you remember me?" She demanded.

"You – you – it's impossible, you can't be!" stammered the hapless rapist.

"I am, and I'm here for more!" Helena replied.

She made a swift movement, throwing the covers over Echo's head and in the same gesture swinging her head down towards his crotch, where she gave his flaccid cock, shrunken with fear, a long, wet lick with her tongue even as Echo was struggling to get free of the sheets. He had no chance, though, when she willed her fangs into striking position and bit down hard, taking balls and cock completely into her mouth before closing her sharp teeth around them, and tearing, wrenching at the package.

Echo howled with pain, and at that loud noise a look passed between the two vampires: they had to leave right then.

Cabud called, not for Helena's benefit but for Echo's, "Right, let's go get the rest!" Helena did not part her teeth as she pulled away, and rent huge holes in Echo's privates as she turned from him. And then the vampires were gone.

Clutching desperately at the reproductive organs mangled beyond repair, Gary tried to crawl to his telephone.

Cabud worked out a quieter way to gain entrance to the homes of Bravo and Delta, who were next on the list, and so those two, also single, were woken only when Helena prodded them on the shoulder. She had learned her lesson from the first attempt, and now waited only for an acknowledgement of who she was, by word or by expression, before biting hard into her victims' throats and tearing ferociously in a single shake of her head. Cabud told her that he believed that those two stayed alive just long enough to see their killer walk away.

"Charlie", AKA Eric Webber, did not live alone, and Helena was annoyed to find that he shared his bed with a woman. There was no need to exchange a look with her master, though: she decided simply that they would both die, and felt an instant approval at the decision from Cabud.

Cabud woke the woman while Helena woke the man. Cabud lifted his captive to a sitting position, and even as she opened her mouth to scream he rested his fangs against her throat, and growled a threat that was instantly understood. Instead, the woman pleaded, "Please don't hurt us! We'll give you anything you want, just let us go!" She could not bring herself to accept that she was held by a creature thought to be imaginary by most of society. The smeared gore, from three previous victims, around Helena's jaw did nothing to make it more real.

Helena stood beside "Charlie", and used her strength to force him into looking at his partner's perilous situation, for she had seen his eyes flicker in fear and recognition the moment he had awoken; she did not need his gaze on herself anymore.

"Why don't you tell her why I'm here!" she prompted the policeman.

"No, no, no!" he quivered, trying to shake his head and equally unable to accept the reality of his peril.

"Very well, I will," concluded Helena, "Lady: this man, one week ago tonight, gang-raped me with a bunch of his colleagues. There's only one thing my boss and I want here, and that is revenge. This, sadly, means you. You really should choose your men more carefully!" The woman's face turned to questioning her partner as the accusation was made, to abject terror when Helena made clear what was about to happen. When Helena stopped speaking, Cabud tore into the throat of his victim. Helena made Eric Webber watch for a few seconds before pouncing on him and tearing out his throat as she had done two men already.

Cabud's attack was more measured, for he was feeding from the woman and had not destroyed her throat as Helena had done for a quick kill elsewhere. For many seconds, the woman was able to gaze at him as he drank, and could see out of the corner of her eye the death of her husband. Then Helena dropped Eric and drank from his wife's wrist, and the victim knew no more. Cabud and Helena left behind the dried corpse, slashing with a kitchen knife to disguise the bitemarks: there was no disguising the torn throat of her husband, and the pair had already agreed that there would be a message sent to any who might have heard about the feats of the team. Just then, the telephone started to ring, so Cabud once more took Helena under his arm and launched into the night sky.

As they flew on, Helena was riding higher than ever before on a heady mix of revenge, power and a bellyful of blood – with a shock, Helena realised that she had not fed in over a week, and that was why it was having such a powerful effect on her. Never had she felt so much power, so in control of her own destiny, and capable of taking what she wanted. And now they were headed for the ultimate triumph: the capture of Alpha.

Alpha, AKA Danny Felton, sat in his living room, awaiting the tart from the Adam's Finger. He would never have told anyone else, but he accepted it in his own mind: he was afraid. Not long ago, Gary had called, telling some whacked-out story about her coming to his home and trying to bite off his privates before flying into the sky with a comment about doing the rest. After trying to call the other members of his team, with no answer, he was forced to conclude that something was wrong and maybe Gary had told it exactly as it happened. That night had been crazy, from when the weird guy told them how to get a free blow-job to the tremendous way in which they had all taken their pleasure of the tart. He couldn't even remember her name. And he had to accept that, just maybe, there had been something involving hypnosis or magic, or paranormal forces in the way it had happened. And, crossing the ways of such things had to be a bad idea if they really existed. Maybe he should never have asked for permission to tie her up in the first place. But he really preferred them that way. And now, it sounded like the tart and her pimp (if that's what he was) were on their way here to punish him for fucking her properly.

He was just glad that the missus had taken the kids to their grandma's for the week. If there was no answer at Eric's, then it looked like family members were fair game as well for these maniacs or magicians or whatever they might be. It also meant that he would not get into trouble for bringing out his father's old shotgun and loading it, just in case. The weapon lay in his lap ready to deal with anything, natural or otherwise, that might attack.

There was a sound – from upstairs! "Right, now we'll deal with these freaks," Alpha snarled as he leapt from his chair brandishing the gun. But in his haste to reach the stairwell, he did not check the hallway as he came out through the living room door. Somebody cannoned into him from the side, hurling him to the floor. The gun went off with an almighty bang, and blew a chunk out of the wall. There was still the second barrel, but he had to bring it to bear: the gun's best use now was as a club. Alpha struggled to find a purchase, and room to swing at his assailant. He was using the butt to pummel the flesh of his attacker, but it had no effect. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his shoulder and the world seemed strangely far away...

As Cabud plunged home his syringe of tranquilliser, Helena came down the stairs. The plan had worked perfectly. Triumph coursed through Helena's veins, visceral joy at the thought of what was to come surging in her and along with the blood on her lips, firing the need for sex. But first, they had to return to Cabud's office-block lair.

Cabud put one arm around Helena's oh-so-thin waist, and with the other he carried the unconscious Alpha as they soared above the sleeping city. The journey went quickly, and soon the pair were carrying the prone form of Danny Felton into a prepared room. There lay a form of coffin on the floor, its lid waiting beside it. They quickly stripped him naked. Tying the hands and feet of their victim was simple and quick, and they placed him inside and closed the lid, fastening it not with nails but with sturdy clips for the purpose. By the time they had done this, the frustrated urge to fuck was raging beyond compare in Helena, and it was with utter relief that she heard Cabud order, "Strip yourself naked!"

Once she had done so, he lifted her with two hands almost meeting around the narrowest point of her torso, and he placed her bodily on her back, atop the coffin containing Alpha. No preliminaries were needed: Helena had been wet all the way back from Alpha's home. Cabud, who had stripped as Helena did, simply thrust in as hard and fast as he could, and kept going as Helena responded in kind. She did not hold on to Cabud (somehow, she knew that he was forbidding even the slightest nail scratch on his back), but there was no need to. He gave her all that she needed.

Nothing could match the experience of the First Blood, but this was on the same primordial level as Helena came with screaming abandon beneath Cabud's rock-hard cock. She knew that he was close to climax, but would never come until he chose to. And once the first orgasm subsided, he retained his hardness and began again. All-consuming orgasm followed all-consuming orgasm time and again for Helena, until at last her battered, exhausted body was traversing pain and pleasure each time and could bear no more. Finally, in one massive event that put all the previous earth-shatterers to shame, he timed his own eruption with hers.

Unable to walk, Helena accepted it as Cabud carried her to another nearby room where she found a bed waiting, just like the one she had described to Ally and Bev a week or so ago. There she lay down to sleep beside the man who ruled her life and gave her power.

Part 12

Helena woke with the dawn, she knew, even though the chamber where she had slept had no windows. Some part of her burgeoning vampiric powers must be automatically aware of the day. Maybe it was a warning, in case a vampire fell asleep and could use those first few minutes to hide from the daylight; or maybe it was just a signal that would normally have told a vampire that it was time to sleep again. She stretched herself as Cabud woke beside her.

"I am glad to have got rid of that nasty corset!" she told him, reaching over for a kiss. Before their lips met, she drew back – Cabud was denying her that signal of connectedness, by using a far more fundamental connection. He gently pushed her back onto the sheets of black silk and she enjoyed the feel of his eyes on her. She knew that he was appreciating her new shape, a white silhouette against the dark background. She was, as he had predicted, squeezed down to a waist that was barely possible for a human to achieve with the use of severely restraining garments. Her vampire's body now took as its shape a waist that measured just 16 inches: not as small as predicted, but small enough and pliable enough that it would once again fit into the 12" corset when Cabud demanded it. Helena supposed that she resembled that famous picture that sometimes appeared as two faces in black, on a white background, and sometimes appears as a white candlestick on a black background. The thought amused her: a walking, talking work of art, artist by the name of Cabud Samuel!

There was a day of normal life to get through now, though.

Cabud stirred.

"For your remark, I think I ought to put you back in it!" he said, pointing to the discarded corset, "But I won't this time. You have classes to attend, and I have a business to run. Let's get you ready."

Helena lay first on her front and then on her back, letting Cabud massage the sun cream deep into her skin, in a glorious coating of protection, that gave her the power to defy the sun. He turned her over, and rubbed the cream all over her body, fondling her breasts and making her tingle with anticipation once more: anticipation that would have to be denied.

He forbade her wearing underwear during the day, but she was free to choose from an extensive wardrobe to which he showed her. Helena took her time, but she knew instantly when she had found the dress that she would wear. She knew it, because it had been cut specifically for her current figure. The skirt of the dress hung straight and loose to her ankles, but from hips to waist, it shrank to the exact contour of her own body, and then back out again to take in her bosom, providing in itself ample support for Helena's breasts. It could not have been prepared for her before hand, but she imagined that by luck and good judgement, Cabud had known how to make it to fit.

Although a plain fabric, in a very dark red colour, there was no doubting that it looked special, as though she was dressed to go to the opera houses frequented by high society. And with her pinched, hourglass figure, it was a complete Goth/"vampire-club" type thing to wear. Those people would have no idea of what it was really like as a vampire, or that this dress was really being worn by a genuine vampire. That thought pleased Helena, and so she announced that she was ready to go.

They did not take the Mercedes this time, but a nondescript VW Golf. Even so, Helena drew a few stares as she stepped from the vehicle. Her fabulous gown and her hourglass figure were remarkable, and the idea that a modern-day, independent woman like Helena would allow herself to be put into a corset like that, and parade in public, was unthinkable. It was practically the biggest gossip point of the day on campus.

Helena fielded all questions with a curt, "I like the feel of it," not able to reveal that she was in fact for the first time in a week free of such a constraint, and that this was her natural figure from now on. People would soon grow used to seeing her like this. They might even overcome the shock when she changed for swimming. Somehow, she didn't feel that she could face gym sessions like this, though. The water of swimming would provide enough distortion of the image to hide the truth; but to be on full view in her freakish new body was more than she could bear for the moment.

Helena worked Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at the Adam's Finger, so tonight she had nothing to do in particular in the real world. In her vampire life, she had a dish of cold revenge waiting at Cabud's castle.

Cabud's psychic call to her was as clear as a bell as the class dispersed from the last lecture of the day. She even felt in it that she should meet him where he had dropped her off that morning, and he would be driving the same car. She knew that this could only be due to her exceptional nature even as vampires went, and proudly went to meet him.

* * * * *

The coffin stank when they opened it. Alpha had not suffocated, because the coffin was designed for sleeping in and had air holes cunningly hidden, but he had wet himself and been unable to go so long without having to shit. Thus, for a while now he had been lying uncomfortably in a pool of his own piss and crap.

He was already like a broken man, driven half-mad, it seemed, by the long hours of confinement in a dark and unknown place. The vampires lifted him onto a trolley and strapped him down as awareness began to creep back into his eyes.

"Don't worry, Mr. Felton," Helena cooed, "We're just going to give a little shower before we move you on to the next bit."

The shower in question was the one in the electric room. Danny Felton, "Alpha", was made to stand on the centre circle while Helena and Cabud held him firmly. The meaning of the handcuffs on the rope were not lost on the man, and at last he began to struggle, spouting threats and angry words of defiance at his captors. But vampire strength overcame his desperation and soon his hands were untied and fastened into the handcuffs. Cabud carefully removed the rope around Alpha's ankles and attached the copper wire.

Helena went and stood in front of him.

"You raped me, and now you will pay. You betrayed the trust that my master placed in you, and now you will pay. Do you remember what he told you you could do to me, if you spoke the magic words? Did it ever include sticking your prick in my cunt? No. You had permission to take one blowjob each, and to tie me up if you wished, while you did that. The penalty for transgressing my master's laws, is that I shall take out the pain you caused me by causing you pain. And then, you will die just like your fellow rapists died before you. Do you understand what I have told you?"

"You crazy, mad, fucking bitch!" Alpha burst out, "You can't possibly get away with any of this! What the hell do you think you're doing?" He tried to kick at her, but she was quick and stepped out the way. She and Cabud walked away, while Alpha continued his ranting at the insanity of his situation.

"Keep talking!" Helena called back to him, "You'll just make it more fun for me!"

Cabud led her to the control room of the electric chamber. He hoisted Alpha until his feet were just touching the floor, and then activated the shower switch. Together the vampires watched as Alpha swayed in the jets of freezing water that thoroughly and painfully cleaned the captive policeman.

Once the enforced cleansing was over, Helena took a moment to look around her. It seemed like something out of a vast starship in a sci-fi movie. Four control arrangements for the arms were present, and a huge bank of buttons to switch between the various options. There were sliders to control voltages and the height of the rope. There were winking lights and dials that told the user how the system was set.

Cabud spoke, "As you see, I have spent several years developing this, as I told you while you were its victim. And you are not the first young vampire to assist me here, hence the second pair of controllers. Have a look at the panel there, and see if you can work out the controls before I switch on the main mechanism."

Much of what Helena saw was actually self-explanatory: there were switches to select which arm was controlled by which hand, and sliders for each control column to select the amount of electricity delivered when she squeezed the trigger. The control columns were each composed of a many-jointed arm, ending in a handgrip. On each there was a trigger for the index finger to use, and a thumb-switch on the back. It appeared that the triggers were an analogue system, so that lightly squeezing them would deliver a small fraction of the current indicated by the slider, while squeezing them all the way would deliver the whole lot.

In the electric room, around Alpha, six ceiling hatches opened; the five already used to torture Helena, and a sixth, directly behind the victim. Like the one directly in front, this was tipped by a metallic dildo, and the use to which it would be put on a man was clear instantly to Helena. Cabud also hoisted Alpha a little bit higher, so that now his toes were dangling a centimetre or two from the floor.

Alpha was looking about him in terror. He couldn't quite turn enough to see the sixth arm, but he could see enough already.

"You crazy, crazy bitch, what the hell are you doing to me!?" he cried, microphones transferring the man's wild, angry and despairing yells. Helena found a microphone of her own and flicked the "on" switch.

"You ought to watch your language, Mr. Felton, when you are as helpless as you are now, and in my power." She switched off her microphone, and looked down at the panel. She selected what she took to be the left-front robotic arm (from the point of view of the victim) and decided to control it using her right hand. She was pleased to see the arm come to life and sway as she swayed her controller. She experimentally flicked the thumb switch upwards, and the bud began to open into its cup configuration. She flicked it down from the rest state, and the bud closed again. She moved it inwards, watching impassively as Alpha came to life again, jerking and swinging to try to escape the menacing object.

Cabud activated the twin of Helena's robotic arm and suddenly, Alpha didn't know where to wriggle his body. But Cabud advanced his more slowly, so he shied that way more. Helena aimed her implement at the prisoner's armpit and nestled the thing there. She counted three, and then squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened, and she looked down at the panel. She had forgotten to advance the slider from zero. She made a quick adjustment to the level, and tried again. She was rewarded with a huge cry and a string of swearing from Alpha.

"Please don't use that sort of language, Mr. Felton," she cooed over the speakers, "I have sensitive ears, you know. I think I may just have to increase the voltage a little." She nudged the slider up another notch, and squeezed the trigger again. Alpha's cry was just as loud, but he bit down on any additions he might have made to his previous outburst.

It was the catalyst that Helena needed, and with Cabud's help for half an hour she experimented with placed to put her bud, occasionally opening out into the cup formation. She was particularly pleased with the effect of placing it over her victim's face, and watching his abject terror as the spike closed in slowly first on one eyeball, then the other, and then finally (having withdrawn it just before it made contact each time) closing it properly with the spike centred on his nose. Cartilage crumpled as the spike drove into that soft tissue. With the spike embedded thus, she sent a big jolt into the man's face. Any time that Alpha swore or protested the insanity of the punishment, he received an increased voltage in the same area.

Finally, Cabud activated his microphone, "Mr, Felton," he intoned, "You betrayed my trust, which is bad enough, but you also did material harm to me. You hurt, humiliated and raped my girl. You encouraged others to do likewise. I think that you will agree that we have in return hurt you, using electricity, and humiliated you by leaving you to lie in your own urine and excrement. But I cannot rape you five times, as you and your associates did to my girl. So the machine will have to rape you on my behalf!"

Cabud activated the sixth arm, while Helena took the dildo directly in front of Alpha. Helena advanced, keeping her evil implement well within Alpha's sight, and letting him think that this would be the means of his mechanical raping. Steadily, Cabud advanced his own weapon from behind, aiming it directly for the hapless rapist's anus.

The manoeuvre went perfectly, and the true purpose of Helena's dildo was revealed just at the moment that Cabud's reached the entrance to its target. Alpha was unable to move his body in such a way as to avoid the dildo behind him and that advancing before, which had suddenly switched its level and was gliding remorselessly towards his mouth. He clenched his teeth and lips shut, and likewise his sphincter behind him. Cabud decided that he needed a little bit of help, and gently touched the trigger on the anal probe. The instinctive yelp was all that Helena needed to be able to force her way in to Alpha's mouth. He realised what was happening, but was far too late to prevent it. Cabud operated his microphone again.

"That was a very light shock, compared to what I can deliver. I will keep on shocking you and turning up the voltage, until you relax and let me in. Trust me, you do not want the voltage to be very much higher than it is now, when I finally do get in."

It took another two shocks in demonstration before Alpha took Cabud at his word and opened up. Even so, although the probe was specifically designed for the purpose, it was a tight fit. Cabud would not let Alpha have any relief, however, and made sure that he drove the motors forward until the full length of the shaft was inside. Then he drew back. Like a boxer using one fist to repeatedly strike an opponent, Cabud shuttled the unforgiving metal shaft in and out of Alpha's backside, to the accompaniment of real, unalloyed screams from the recipient. These were not the yells of anger or outrage that Alpha had used before, but sheer unadulterated pain, only slightly muffled by the metal dildo that also occupied his mouth. A CCTV screen showed the view from the rear, and Helena felt a familiar stirring in her as the red lifeblood began to seep from Alpha's punished behind. She gave her trigger a gentle squeeze, and then harder. Alpha gagged horribly on the implement and his own voice.

Cabud stopped, and Helena held her finger over the trigger. On Cabud's nod, she gave a stronger burst of power, and just as she cut off, Cabud launched his own through the metal cock buried in Alpha's arse. As Cabud cut off, Helena started again, a little bit stronger. Faster and faster, they alternated, perfectly in tune through the mental link, and adding more and more power until Alpha's voice extended into one long wail. Faster and faster, more and more power. As they approached 90% of maximum, wisps of smoke were appearing, and Alpha's voice became strangled and fell silent. Sharing a glance, the two vampires pushed their sliders to full power, buried the triggers and held on as Alpha was reduced to a burnt-out corpse.

Helena's revenge was complete.

Part 13

Helena was hungry again, she could feel it in her as a furnace urgent for more fuel. It was not the consuming hunger that had driven previous feeds, but it was insistent and continuing. She needed to hunt.

Cabud knew what she was feeling, and he led her away from the chamber and through his castle disguised as an office tower. She followed as he led, aware that they were heading towards the ground floor again. They were going out, they would hunt soon. It was the Volkswagen that he chose to be their chariot that night, and Helena remembered climbing into it that morning, dressed in the same clothes as she was still wearing now. There was little clue as to their destination as they drove through the city, but Cabud seemed to be following a well-rehearsed route. They were not going to any of the clubs that were open on a Wednesday night, so how would they hunt? And they were not going where the prostitutes worked, nor where the beggars and homeless people slept. How would they find prey?

At a nondescript house that looked as shabby as the car, Cabud pulled over. There were many cars parked in the street, but that was hardly unusual. Cabud climbed from the car and with a curt word ordered Helena to do likewise. He took her by the hand, and led her to the front door of the house. He rapidly gave what was obviously a coded knock, and the door opened to reveal a girl in typical Goth attire, who immediately proffered her arm as though to have the back of her hand kissed – but her hand was the wrong way up. Cabud brushed it away imperiously.

"Lord Cabud!" the girl greeted him. Cabud gestured Helena forwards, and introduced her: "This is Helena, she is a new one of my kind, and will have the same rights as I do in this building."

"Yes, my Lord. Mistress Helena, please come this way," the girl gestured, and seemed to be deliberately showing off her neck. It began to dawn on Helena that this woman actually wanted to be eaten, to have her lifeblood drained from her body. It was tempting, but there had to be a reason why Cabud had not taken her up on the offer before, so she curbed her hunger until all had become clear.

It transpired that the host was not the only person in the house who had this fetish. In fact, it was nothing but a den for people who revelled in being fed upon by vampires. In the large lounge to which the girl led Helena, there were about a dozen people, nine girls and three boys – not one of them could be older than Helena herself, and half seemed to be below eighteen.

"We are all here for your delectation and consumption. Take as many as you wish!" With that, she gave a deep bow and joined the company, draped across the various pieces of fake antique furniture. Everyone left their major blood vessels artfully exposed.

Cabud arrived at Helena's shoulder, "As you can see," he explained, "There is a community of people who find that the act of allowing another to drink from them is intensely pleasurable. And a genuine vampire drinking is many times more pleasurable still. But be careful: it does us no good if one should die, however much he or she might fantasise about it. Use only one fang to gently break the artery, and lick the wound closed afterwards: they heal better if you do that. Do not drink too much from one person, but share your favours and take your fill from several sources."

"But why do they not become vampires if you drain them, as you did me?"

"They do not accept the predatory nature, but are dedicated to being perfect victims. The vampire magic would not take root in such a person, and they would die just as surely as those who deny the magic's existence die. Now go, and feed. If you wish, you may use them sexually: but only once you feel no more hunger. Otherwise you may not be able to control your feeding urge."

Helena looked around the room, and saw to her shock a girl whom she knew from university: a girl by the name of Angelique, who had annoyed many members of the Goth community by proclaiming how much deeper into the scene she really was than anyone else, and hinting at darker secrets and hidden doings. So it had been true, all along. But now, Helena had gone one better. Her choice of food was obvious now. Angelique had shown no flicker of recognition so far, so Helena decided to make straight for her.

It was only when Helena took Angelique's hand and planted a kiss on its back, that the girl looked up and recognised the new arrival.

"What are you doing here?" Angelique asked in surprise.

"I came to feed on your blood," Helena replied.

"You're a poser, like the boys upstairs," Angelique replied, "I only want a real vampire." Helena bared her fangs at last. "Oh my God, he turned you! You bitch!"

"Now I am deeper into the scene than you, and my fangs will be deep into you. How does that feel?" Helena asked, and Angelique moaned with frustration, but stretched her neck further so that Helena had the easiest access possible. Helena gently stroked the tip of her mutated tooth across the front of Angelique's throat, making her moan again, this time with fear and desire. Helena realised that the fear only accentuated the turn-on that these willing victims felt when they submitted to the teeth.

Finally, Helena increased her pressure on Angelique's jugular, puncturing the skin and feeling the high-pressure blood spurt into her mouth and down her throat. With her lips, she controlled the flow of the blood, knowing instinctively how much she could safely take and how to allow the rest to reach Angelique's brain and prevent the cells there from dying. It was like a long, slow kiss to the neck that constantly vibrated and changed as Angelique breathed, as the flow of blood altered with the cycle of the heart's pumping, and as the pressure and shape of Helena's lips shifted to adapt to both.

Helena felt Angelique begin to weaken, and it frustrated her because she was not nearly full yet. But she stopped herself anyway, licking the wound closed as she did so and watching her saliva instantly clot the blood over the puncture, ensuring that no further blood was lost. Angelique looked blissful even as she was incapacitated by blood-loss, her heart only pumping weakly now. The girl would recover by morning, but she was floating in a world between life and death, where it seemed that she was more ecstatic than anywhere else.

Helena picked another girl, and bit into her wrist, hard, much harder than necessary, and the girl yelped with pain. Helena was angry with Angelique for flaking out so soon, and took it out on this victim instead. It was a short-lived anger: the girl forgot the pain as Helena sucked deeply from her, moaning all the time with sexual excitement, even as she grew weaker by the second. Helena saw that she had to stop with this one as well, and did so reluctantly. The edge was well and truly taken from her hunger, and she could feel that one more would satisfy her. This time she chose one of the boys. He looked to her to be barely fifteen years old, and she could not imagine how he had discovered his thrill at being drained of blood. This one, she decided, was going to have a very good time indeed.

She slipped out of her dress and left it on the floor, naked now apart from her long stockings. She straddled the boy, and saw with pleasure that he was already more than half erect. She ignored his prick and went once again for the neck, feeling the boy's groan of joy as the fang slipped into his flesh.

Helena did not take as much as she did from the other two, for she was sated now, and wished to fuck this boy: if she drank too much of his blood, there would not be enough left to keep him hard. She could see that he was feeling very faint because, with the blood in her stomach and the blood that was keeping him hard, there was far less available for his brain. But he was hard, and Helena had upon her the lust that came with feeding.

"Listen: are you a virgin?" she asked the boy. He was too groggy to lie to her: "Yes, mistress," he whispered.

"Not any more!" smiled Helena, and she drove herself down hard onto his cock, clenching her vagina around it and then sliding up and down, riding it urgently, while everyone could see her wild abandon. The boy moaned quietly, excited beyond belief but still faint from his loss of blood: "Oh, yes, oh yes, oh yes!"

Had he retained his full quota of blood, he would have cum so quickly as to leave Helena much disappointed; but now, there was just enough to keep him erect but not enough for him to climax instantly. So it was Helena who came first, screaming her climax to the whole room and beyond. She had taken all that she needed from this boy, now, but he should still have his reward. She kept on riding him, but now she bent down and kissed his throat, stroking it with her fangs as she had done with Angelique. It was all the trigger the boy needed, and Helena welcomed it as she felt his load splatter across her insides.

And so it was time for her to leave. Before she did so, she took a shower and straightened herself up, before retrieving her dress from the floor of the lounge and moving on. She pointed to Angelique: "Don't ever tell anyone what I really am!" she commanded, and the half-dead Angelique nodded dutifully, her lips moving soundlessly to form the words, "Yes, Mistress Helena." Then Angelique slept while Cabud drove Helena back to the castle.

Part 14

"What did Angelique mean when she said that the 'boys upstairs' were all posers?" asked Helena.

Cabud explained, "There are humans who gain a thrill out of drinking others' blood, as well as humans who enjoy having others drink from them. Because I hardly have the need or desire to visit my bloodsluts very often, they are happy to gain their thrill from these fakers feeding on them instead. Of course, when the real vampire shows up, they run away and hide upstairs, and they know that they will have no thrill themselves that night."

"And why do these fake vampires not wish to join you as a true vampire?"

"My power frightens them. They only love the feed itself, they have no part of them that feels the hunt, and they have no part of them that could accept as you have done the power that I would have over them. If I were to drain them as I drained you, then they would die just as surely as the people on whom they feed would do."

"And do you know their names?"

"No, and they prefer it that way. The anonymity makes it safe for them, psychologically. I recognise their faces and I can see some of their minds, enough to tell one from another. That is all that is needed. They are food, that is all. They are my bloodsluts: and now, they are yours, too."

They drove on in silence, back to the castle of concrete, steel and glass.

Cabud led Helena from the garage, and took her to a lift. He touched the control for a very high floor, somewhere near the top of the building. As they rode ever higher, Cabud put his arm around Helena's wasp-like waist and held her close. She demurely placed her hands behind her, brushing against Cabud's possessive grip.

When the lift doors opened, Cabud guided Helena down the corridors by his embrace, and Helena kept her posture too, walking with simple, straight, feminine steps as Cabud strode beside her. Eventually they reached a door that Cabud opened. Inside was a room decked out in pale blue, like some 18th Century French aristocrat's boudoir, with a great bed that could easily have slept five or six lying side by side. Everything was the height of luxury.

"You have been feeling proud and powerful after your achievements of last night and tonight. Your full belly and the manner of your revenge have made you feel powerful, and your success and the fact that you are a remarkable young lady have given you hubris.

"It is time that I reminded you of your true place. When in that room, you will not call me 'Samuel', you will not call me 'Cabud', you will not even call me 'Master'. As far as names are concerned, you will have none, and I will be your owner. That is all. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Samuel!" Helena answered, anxious to use his real name, and show that she was not afraid. He threw her into the room, where she sprawled on the floor.

"Do you understand?" he asked again.

"Yes, my owner," Helena meekly said.

"Now, strip naked." Helena did so, willingly and without any desire to do otherwise.

"Now, go to the top drawer of the chest of drawers and open it. Bring me the coiled bullwhip that you find there." This, Helena did not want to do, for she knew what must follow. But she did it all the same, unable to refuse. Cabud stood just inside the doorway, barring any hope of an escape – but no such thought entered Helena's mind.

"Stay there," Cabud commanded, "And look out through the door." He himself entered further into the room, and Helena heard the sounds of him stripping naked also.

"Raise your arms in the air, and do not harden yourself one iota. You are to feel everything! Do not urinate and do not defecate. Hang your head forwards, with your hair over one shoulder. You may scream and cry out as much as wish. Are you ready?"

Helena replied, with tears in her eyes and in her voice, "No!" In that instant, the first whistle and crack of the whip was heard, the first stripe of searing pain crossed her back, the first scream erupted from her lips, obliterating the just-completed negative.

"What are you?"

"I don't know!" Helena wailed. The whip slashed across her back in the opposite direction.

"You are whatever I want you to be. Who am I?"

"You are my owner!"

"Do you understand why I am doing this?"

"Yes!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"No!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"I don't know!"

"I am doing it because I enjoy your pain, and I enjoy hearing you scream. I told you this not too long ago. But you thought I was punishing you for your pride and feelings of power. So you understood, but you also misunderstood. How many more do you think that you should receive?"

"I don't know!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"As many as you want!"

"Good girl. How many do you think I want?"

"I don't know!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"I want a definite answer. Give me a number."

"S-s-seven," Helena stammered through the blazing furnace that engulfed her.

"Very well! Seven it is. How many will that be in total?"

"I don't know!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"It would have been thirteen. Now how many will it be?"

"Fourteen?" Whip-crack. Scream.

"Wrong! Thirteen, still. How many are left to go?"

"I don't know!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"Now how many are left to go?"

"Err, err, err, three?" Whip-crack. Scream.

"Now there are three left. How many have already been?"

"I can't remember!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"Do the sums. How many have there been now?"

"Two!" Whip-crack. Scream.

"I didn't ask how many were left. I asked how many had already been. Now, how many have you already had?"

"Twelve!"

"Good girl. You can put your arms down now." Helena relaxed, feeling the fire in her back afresh as her posture changed, but thankful that the whipping was done. Suddenly, she found her arms pinned to her sides as the whip coiled around her, snapping in tightly and stinging her belly and her lower back, which had thus far been untouched. Cabud pulled her to him, where he was standing beside the bed. He uncoiled the whip, and gently kissed her throat from behind and to one side, holding her around her waist.

"I want you to feel free to struggle and resist, in any way you desire," he said, "Just to see it do you no good at all!" Helena had no idea what he was talking about, for the fraction of a second that it took him to throw her to her knees and bend her forwards over the sumptuous bedding. He held her wrists tightly together in his left hand, while his right snaked around and kneaded her breast. All of this, Helena would have accepted as being his due, and she would even have enjoyed it, but it was not her cunt that was the target of his giant, raging cock. For in that same move he had positioned himself and was already pressing his weight upon her tiny, puckered, virgin anus.

"No!" It was a long, drawn-out wail of protest, futile and plaintive, piercing in its panicked fear. Helena had never taken it up the arse, had sworn that she never would. Now here she was, helplessly trapped by the man whom she loved and who loved her back. She desperately tried to will her sphincter to hardness that would bar the passageway, but she instinctively knew that her inner passages could not be blocked by such willpower.

Cabud's enormous cock was slowly inching its way into Helena's darkest reaches, stretching and rasping as it went. Deeper and deeper it went, and there was no stopping it. No matter how she writhed and struggled under him, he was more powerful and stronger than she, and she was helpless to resist him. Her cries were no just a wordless, continuous wail of agony as more and more of her owner's length was buried in her, stretching, aching, filling her beyond compare.

And then, remarkably, it was in. All the way, the monstrous penis was encased in her rear entrance, her arse touched by Cabud's balls. Then, it began to slide slowly out again, and it felt as though it was dragging all of Helena's insides with it.

"Ahh!" Her wail this time was one of desperation, as every inch made it seem like her body was going to fall out of her bottom. She was past fighting now, her eyes just staring wildly, despairingly at the opposite wall, her hands clenched tightly and impotently in her owner's grasp.

He did not draw completely out, but paused with his penis's head still buried within. Then he drove forwards again. This time, he did not go slowly, but gave her his full strength and weight all at once, driving his full, gargantuan length all the way in, in one dynamic, smooth stroke.

Helena screamed louder than she had ever done in her entire life as her innards were stampeded by the giant shaft. And the withdrawal was just as swift and smooth, and she gasped in horror at the dreadful sensations within.

Her owner was speaking again, and he was telling her to become aroused, to respond with pleasure to his sodomising her! But she had to obey, even as he drove in just as forcefully as before. He did not pause any more between his strokes, pounding her rectum and pummelling her insides with terrible energy, filling her abdomen with pain. But all the time he talked her steadily, on and on, through her arousal stages, ordering her higher and higher until at last he said, just before driving home another demonic blow, "Climax now!"

And Helena did as she was told. Riding through the pain on a tidal wave of pleasure that she could never have imagined, horrified that she could enjoy a moment even as diabolical as this; and deep within her she felt the awful gushing of her owner's seed filling her darkest places and flooding her insides.

Her owner withdrew, but his erection was undiminished.

"Turn around!" he ordered the shattered Helena, who shakily lifted herself from the bed and turned around on her knees so that she was facing him – or rather, his still-hard cock.

"Lick and suck it clean!' commanded her owner, and Helena did as she was told, tasting her own blood on her owner's cock and swallowing it all.

Now you truly are Turned!" he told her, when she had finished, "Now, go and stand outside this room."

Helena did so, and as she did so, she recalled her own name and that of Cabud Samuel. He followed her.

"What the saliva of a vampire can do to broken skin, the semen of a vampire will do for torn passageways. Your rectum is whole again already. Out here, you may answer as you wish, and I will accept your answer. Please, Helena, will you allow me to bugger you again? This time, with no instructions from me at all before or throughout?"

Without thinking, and to her great shock, Helena answered, "Of course, my Lord Cabud."

She knelt on the hard floor, her hands and elbows touching the floor to either side of her head, and she raised her behind into the air.

"Please, my Lord Cabud Samuel, fuck me in the arse!"

And he did. And she screamed with pain, and did not cum. But she was the happiest she had ever been in her life.

THE END