Vamps, Chapter Six: Meeting Stella

After my lap dance with Hal, I went over to a table and sat with two of the strippers I hadn’t met yet, one a blonde, the other a brunette.  “Hi,” I said.  “My name is Erica George.  I’m the new girl.”

“Hi,” said the brunette, a short, petite beauty.  “I’m Jenny Milton.”  We shook hands.  She smiled, baring her beautiful fangs.

“I’m Tiffany,” said the blonde, who was short, skinny, and cute.  We shook hands.  “Nice to meet you.”

“I have a question,” I said.  “Why did The Candy Club get renamed ‘POUMTANG‘?  You know the sign out front is misspelled, right?”

“It’s an acronym,” said Jenny.  “The spelling is deliberate.”

“OK, what does it stand for?” I asked.

“The Party Of United Mothers, Transwomen, And Nudist Girls,” Tiffany said.

“Wow,” I said.  “That’s awkward-sounding.”

“Yeah, well, it originally was the Party Of Obscene Naughtiness, Transwomen, And Nudist Girls: POONTANG,” Jenny said.  “But the Christian community here didn’t like that acronym, so we had to clean it up by misspelling it on purpose.”

“What’s more, ‘United Mothers’ sounds more family-oriented than ‘Obscene Naughtiness’,” said Andrea, who now joined us.  I smiled up at her as she grabbed a chair and sat beside me.

“Do you all have sons and daughters?” I asked.

“In a way,” Andrea said, stroking my hair.

“All the boys we bite are like our sons, since we made them vampires,” said Jenny.

“And the girls who we’ve made vamps are like our daughters,” Andrea said.

“Hence, we’re mothers,” Tiffany said.

“I like the sound of that,” I said, looking at Andrea.  “My mom died when I was very young.  Oh, how I cried and cried as a little girl from her loss.  And then my dad changed into such a…well, maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.  It’s depressing.  But anyway, I’ve felt so empty without a mother’s love.  I like the thought that I can get that from you all.”  Especially from you, though, Andrea, I thought as I still looked at her.  (Actually, she kind of resembled my mom physically.)  After all you’ve done for me, I like to think of you as a mother figure to me.  I sensed she felt my thoughts, and was smiling her love back to me.

“I’ll be happy to be your new mom, Erica,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.  We smiled lovers’ smiles at each other.  I was really hoping for not only my second bite from her, but a second love-making; for that daughters’ love I felt for Andrea was, if you will, quite Oedipal.

The stripper onstage, Fanny, just finished her third and last song, and got off the stage.  Tiffany looked over there.  “I have to go onstage now.”  She got up and went there.

“See you,” Jenny said.

“Well, you’ve explained ‘Mothers’ in POUMTANG,” I said, “but what about ‘Transwomen’?  Are there any here?”

“Of course,” Jenny said.  “Look around.”

“Do you really think every female face you see here is physically so?” asked Andrea.  “Look carefully at those two over by the bar.”

I leaned over and strained my eyes a bit looking to my right at the two she was referring to, in glittery dresses and heavy makeup.  Indeed, I noticed Adam’s Apples protruding most inconveniently from their necks.  I also vaguely sensed their biological masculinity from the psychic vibes they were giving me, vibes of acute dissatisfaction with their bodies.

“Wow, they are,” I said.  “Why do they come here?”

“Because they admire us,” Jenny said.

“And with every bite we give them, they grow more biologically feminine,” Andrea said.  “Those two over there haven’t been bitten at all yet; I can sense it.  But they’ll be wanting it, since they’ve heard rumours, from their once- and twice-bitten friends, of what we can do.”

“I don’t understand how your bites can change them so radically,” I said.  “I thought the bites only make people into vampires, and really hot-looking ones.  How do the bites make all those other changes?”

“One of our abilities, remember, is shape-shifting,” said Fanny, who now joined us.  She sat at my other side.

“A vamp can change into a bat, for example, simply by wishing it,” Andrea said.

“As strippers, we all naturally want to be hotter looking, so with each bite, and each resulting gain of power, we immediately get sexier,” Jenny said.  “We want better looks instinctively, so those changes are more or less automatic.”

“Transwomen want women’s bodies to match their female souls,” Franny said.  “So three bites give them a free sex change operation, with none of the surgical risks.”

“That’s the beauty of being a vamp,” Andrea said.  “Our powers give us whatever we want.”

“The only catch is needing to drink blood,” I said.

“That’s right,” Jenny said.  “That, and staying out of the sun.”

“Speaking of which, where are Meg and Kristen?” Fanny asked with a frown.  “Tell me we didn’t…”

“We did…we lost them,” Andrea said, a tear rolling down her cheek.  “The vampire hunters found them.  Jim saw her ashen remains in her apartment when he went over earlier tonight, correctly sensing trouble.”

“Oh, no,” Jenny said, her eyes widening.  “Kristen gave him his third bite.  He must be heartbroken.”

“He is,” Andrea said, baring her fangs and snarling.  “He’s sworn revenge on the Christians.”

“I hope he sucks the whole town dry,” Fanny said.  “We’re not safe.”

“I’m afraid to go to sleep at dawn,” Jenny said, almost sobbing.  “I keep lyin’ awake, helpless in bed, wondering if they’ll find me, break down my bedroom door, rip open my curtains, and fry me in the sunlight.  I’m really getting scared.”

Andrea put her arms around Jenny and kissed her cheek.  “Don’t worry, baby,” Andrea said.  “We’ll be OK.  You have your once- and twice-bitten guards watching over you, don’t y0u?”

“Yes,” Jenny sobbed.  “But what if they aren’t strong enough to protect me?”

“And when are we going to find the vamp traitor, or traitors, in whichever strip joint they’re working for?” Fanny asked.

“That’s what we need you to help us do, Erica,” Andrea said to me.  She gave me a map of the forest areas all around Caledonia so I could find the CNT Club.  “Go to CNT tomorrow night and find out all you can, any hints that the traitor could be one of them.”

“Speaking of possible traitors,” Fanny said.  “Here comes Stella.”

“Who’s she?” I asked as I saw a tall, curvy, long-haired brunette approaching us in a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and matching high heels.

“Stella Lynn East,” Jenny said.  “Owner of the PSUC Club.”

“And major man-hater,” Andrea said, sneering.

“If she hates men, why does she own a strip club?” I asked.

“To suck men dry,” Stella said in an English accent as she sat down to join us.  “Good evening, vamp sisters.”  She looked at me with a grin that proudly showed off her fangs, and a sparkle in her eyes that looked a combination of deja-vu and discovery of someone long-lost.  Indeed, she stared at me for several seconds, in a wide-eyed daze, before asking, “And you are…?”

“Erica George,” I said, shaking her hand.

“A once-bitten, I see,” she said, kissing my hand.  “Oh, do let me have a bite or two.”  Now that sparkle in her eyes was one of flirtation.

I blushed.

“So, what’s the news at PSUC?” Andrea asked with a frown.  “How many more of your vamps have they destroyed?”

“Four today,” Stella said with an angry sigh.  “Oh, those bastards will never leave us alone.”  She was giving out an energy of deep hate for the Christian community, very sincere vibes: I figured she couldn’t be a traitor.

“Which ones?” Fanny asked.

“Chantale, Alexis, Mercedes, and Beth,” Stella said.  “I swear, when I find out who the vamp traitors are among us–males, I’m sure–I’ll expose them to the sun myself without remorse.  They’ll be the only vamps deserving of such a fate.”

“I’m aware of a female traitor,” I said.

“How do you know that?” Stella asked.

“I went to the Sunshine Pub today,” I said.  “Some men who killed Billie Bryson said a female told them where Billie’s apartment was.”

“Erica, the men you talked to were just that…men, and they can’t be trusted,” Stella said with a twitch of agitation on her face.  “They’re all liars.  They’d love to make us believe a female vamp betrayed us, to divide us.  Make us not trust each other.”

“How can you be so sure they were lying?” I asked.  “What they said felt like the truth.”

“I can’t honestly believe a female would betray her sisters,” Stella said.  “But a male vamp, resentful of his period of servitude to his female biters, before his third, liberating bite, would gladly betray us.  Men can’t handle female power.  They think it’s natural for them to rule over us; so when we get power over them, they have us destroyed.”

“It didn’t feel like those men were lying,” I said.

“Honey, your powers aren’t fully developed yet,” Stella said to me, stroking my hair and looking in my eyes as if I were an old lover she’d lost long ago.  “When I bite you, and liberate you, you’ll understand men’s true nature.  Vamp or no vamp, men are afraid of female power, and they’ll do whatever they have to to stop our ascent to power.  Those men lied about the traitor being female, I assure you.  Watch your male vamps, sisters.  Guido, Jim, and Jorge: they may seem trustworthy to you, but they’re not.  We’re not safe from them.”

“Jim’s out hunting men as we speak,” Andrea said.  “In revenge for Kristen.  Gino and Jorge’s helping him.  We trust them completely.”

“Why?” Stella asked, sneering.

“We don’t share your…extreme views on men,” Andrea said.

“Extreme,” Stella chuckled.  “Extremely common sense.”

“We believe men can be changed,” Fanny said.

“Men will never change,” Stella chuckled louder.  “I know from experience.”

“After a period of servitude to us, under our gentle rule,” Andrea said.  “The rein of the yoni, if you will.”

Stella had a belly laugh.  “The only way to end the rein of the phallus is by usurping it forever.  No temporary women’s rein with tame men.”

“We think it will,” Fanny said.  “We’ve seen the proof in Gino, Jim, and Jorge.  And all of the FAINGS seem loyal.”

Seem loyal,” Stella said.  “They’ll turn on you.  Give it time.”

“If you refuse to see any good in men, why do you have male vamps working for you?” Andrea asked.

“They aren’t full vamps,” Stella said.  “They’re twice-bittens, you know that.  And they know their place.”

“In other words, they’re your personal slaves,” Andrea said.

“That’s right,” Stella said, smiling.

“Look,” I said.  “I don’t like male power over women any more than you, but if you enslave men, how are you any better?”

“It’s not about being better than men, love,” Stella said to me.  “Either we control them or they control us.  When the vampiress revolution finally happens, males will be reduced to ten percent of the population, used only for reproduction, so we vamps can have a limitless supply of blood.”

“We don’t believe so radical a solution is necessary,” Fanny said.

“Agreed,” Andrea said.

“Same here,” I said.

“Very well, sisters,” Stella said, getting up.  “Have it your way for now.  Time will tell, and we’ll see which vamps’ views are proven right.  Goodbye, Erica: I hope to see you…and to bite that pretty neck of yours…soon.”  Stella gazed at me one more time, with a kind of mysteriously melancholy longing, then turned around, walked away from our table, and left the club.

“When you’ve finished looking around the CUNT Club, we’ll need you to go to the PSUC Club, too.  As much as the vamps there hate men and insist of sisterly solidarity, there’s always the possibility that all that misandry is just a cover-up, and they want us dead for some reason.”

“I do think the traitor is female,” I said.  “I felt honesty from those men.”

“Still, Erica, consider all possibilities,” Andrea said, stroking my hair again.  “Stella is right that your power as a once-bitten is limited.  Keep your mind open, for bias will limit your ability to gain access to all the enemies that will lead to the true identity of the traitor or traitors, who could be male or female.”  She kissed me on the mouth, a delicious kiss, and I felt her will vibrating through my body, making me want to seek out any traitors in CNT.

“How do you win the influence over men here?” I asked.

“After you’ve searched CNT and PSUC, we’ll give you your second and third bites, and influencing men will be easy,” Andrea said.

“Influencing men is easy once you’re a full vamp,” Fanny said.

“Yeah, just look at Tiffany onstage,” Andrea said.  Tiffany had been wearing a cute cheerleader outfit during the first song of her floorshow, grinning and giggling as she danced before her rapt audience of horny men.  Now doing her third song, she was crawling about nude and displaying her vulva and anus, in all insouciance, to a panting man at the tip rail.  “We can easily see whose blood she’s going to have soon.”

“How can you be sure he’ll ask her for table dances or lap dances?” I asked.  “Maybe he doesn’t have the money to spend.”

“Haven’t you forgotten?” Fanny said.  “We don’t sex the men up for money, but for blood.  And he has plenty of that.”

“And he won’t want a dance,” Andrea said.  “He wants sex.  We can feel his desire all the way from here.  It’s that intense.”

“He wants anal from her,” Fanny said.

“And she’ll give it to him,” Andrea said.

“Don’t you mean ‘take it from him’?” I asked.  We all laughed.

“Of course,” Andrea said.

“But that’ll hurt,” I said.

“You forget again,” Fanny said.  “We vamps are impervious to pain.”

“Actually, our vamp bodies are adapted to enjoy anal, as much as vaginal sex,” Andrea said.  “We don’t even shit anymore, since we don’t eat.  The anus is now only for sex.”

“Eww,” I grunted.

“You’ll like it, too,” Fanny said.

“Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Andrea said.  “In fact, anal is the best way to get men ready for a bite.”

“Either that, or doggy-style,” Fanny said.  “If a man fucks you and you’re facing him, you might enjoy it so much that you’ll open your mouth wide in sighs.  Then he’ll see your fangs and get scared.  Then, even if you bite him, his will won’t be as much at one with yours.”

“The best way to influence a man is to get him to like you as much as possible,” Andrea said.  “That’s why the best time to bite is when he orgasms, for that’s when his desire for you is at a maximum.  Then his will is all for you.”

“With your back to him as he’s fucking you, you’re free to moan and sigh with an agape mouth, and he probably won’t see your fangs,” Fanny said.

“And if you offer him your asshole, that tells him you’re a ‘bad girl,’ and you’re all the sexier for it,” Andrea said.  “That’s why when I strip for the men, I always bend over and offer the men two choices instead of just one.”

“As do I,” Fanny said.  “And as you should, too.”

Sure enough, after the song was over, Tiffany led her male admirer into a private room.  We’d hear a groan of sharp pain from him about twenty minutes later, and feel the pulling of some of his blood out of him and into the Collective Blood.

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‘Vamps’, Chapter Five: Erica Meets Her Heckler

I returned to my apartment after my long run from the Sunshine Pub and its vamp hunter patrons, a run that, thanks to the increased strength I’d got from Andrea’s bite, got me home amazingly quickly.

Sitting on my bed, I thought about my situation as a vamp, or vamp wanna-be, actually, and the threat that all those vamp hunters posed to the vamp community I was now a part of.  I was upset not only because of the danger of being destroyed by them one day after receiving my third bite, but because Andrea had changed me in a way that made me actually like myself more…and the vamp hunters were trying to take all that away.

Self-esteem was a new thing for me.  You see, I didn’t have a very happy childhood.  Though I had a fair number of friends at school, life at home in southern Ontario had become a hell ever since my mother died.  My widowed father became a morose drinker, taking out his unhappiness on me at every opportunity.  He’d call me an idiot whenever I got bad grades at school, which was usual, because I was a rebellious teenager and didn’t care about learning; so we fought a lot.

By the time I graduated from high school, he griped at me, in slurring words and bad beer breath, for not thinking about my future, that is, not trying to get better grades and get into university.  Actually, I thought about my future a lot, but not in that way: I just wanted to get out of his house and live on my own.  I was a pretty girl with a good body, so becoming a stripper looked like my best option at the time.  So that’s what I did.  I never saw Daddy again, and I have no regrets.

Of course, getting naked in front of a bunch of drunken, leering, cat-calling pigs results in its own kind of verbal abuse (and often far worse than what I put up with from that heckler my first night stripping in the POUMTANG Club).  That was when my love affair with drinking and drugs began.  Whiskey, tequila shots, you name it, I drank it.  Smoking marijuana and hash were a common pastime during high school, so as a stripper I also checked out the harder stuff: ecstasy, ketamine, cocaine…you name it, I at least tried it, if not made it a regular habit.  When I was about 24, my health had declined to the point that I realized I had to come clean.  I went to rehab, and after a painful month or so, I got better.

About a month or so before going to Caledonia, I was getting frustrated with my aging and not-so-hot-looking body.  The ad for the stripping job in Manitoba promised work “far better than any ever imagined,” so I, having nothing to lose, gave it a try and went up there.

Now that I realize what was meant by “far better than any [job] ever imagined,” I feel eternal gratitude to Andrea.  She literally saved my life; for I really had no idea what I could do as an aging, flabby, uneducated stripper.  I didn’t have the money for silicone implants or anything like that.  I didn’t even have the escape of drugs to give me solace; but the high of being a vamp, with increased beauty, strength, and even intelligence, is better than any drug, and the improvements she gave me are better than any education or plastic surgery could ever give me.

But beyond that, I was increasingly realizing that Andrea had introduced me to a much larger world.  My mind had been expanded.  I felt a psychic connection with all life around me, all thanks to the Collective Blood that I’d been more acquainted with from Andrea’s bite.  I was able to gain access to forms of knowledge that at first had seemed the domain of university scholars; I couldn’t believe the vocabulary increase I suddenly had acquired, for in conversations with people I was spontaneously–and correctly–using words I hadn’t known even existed before the bite!

That psychic connection had also increased my sense of empathy for everyone, vamp or non-vamp.  I wanted to help my vamp comrades, and also wanted to give liberating bites (for that’s how I saw them now) to all non-vamps, so they could gain the same advantages I’d just gotten.  I could feel people’s pain, frustrations, and disappointments, all from the vibrations I felt around me, everywhere in Caledonia and in the POUMTANG Club.  I was glad to search for whoever the vamp traitor was, not only to help Andrea and the other vamp strippers, but also to improve my chances of being able to help all those struggling people I had around me on the street.

And vamp hunters were ruining everything for all of us!  Bigoted bastards!  If only they knew that vampires are actually a force for good.

Back in the POUM Club that night, I went over to Andrea just before I was to go onstage.

“So, those old-timers in the Sunshine Pub scared you off, didn’t they?” she asked me.

“Yeah, they did,” I said.  “You can feel it, eh?”

“Yes, I can,” she said.  “You’re vibrating those feelings from all over your being.”

“How does that work?” I asked.  “How am I able to feel others’ vibes?”

“When I sucked your blood, I got connected with your psychic energy, and you are beginning to get connected with everyone’s” she said.  “We vamps are a network of connected blood; the Blood Collective adds to our awareness, to our knowledge, and to our intelligence.  Hence, I can feel the fear you felt when you ran out of the pub.”

“So if you already know, then why ask me?”

“I don’t know everything that happened, only basic vibes.  Now, as for the details: did they tell you who helped them find Billie? Which vamp?”

“They didn’t give a name,” I said.  “They just said she was a pretty young woman, also pale and with a pointy overbite.  Definitely a vamp approached them at night, though they didn’t believe she was one, and they didn’t say her name.”

“Very well,” Andrea said.  “Go to the CUNT Club tomorrow night and find out what you can there.  It’s another vamp strip joint, directly north of us here, north of the town, in the forest up there on the other side.  We’ll tell you more about it later.”

How do all these strip joints here get away with such raunchy names?  And in this Catholic community? I wondered.  “OK, tell me about the strip joint in about twenty minutes,” I said.  “I have to go on now.”

“Will you be OK up there?”

“Oh, yeah.  I have much more confidence now, thanks to you.  I really wanna express my appreciation for all you’ve done f0r me.  You’ve helped me in ways that I’ll never be able to finish repaying you for.  Thanks again, Andrea.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, grinning and showing off her fangs in a way that didn’t at all look scary or freakish to me.  I grinned back, wishing I had fangs as apparent as hers, and impatiently waiting for those second and third bites.

I went onstage.  My first song was ‘Love Bites,’ by Judas Priest (I was going with a quasi-vampire theme that night.)  I was wearing only a pink thong and bra this time; now that my confidence in my body had improved, I wanted to flaunt what I had.

As I was moving about the stage, I looked out at the audience, who were much more attentive than last time.  They seemed a little hypnotized, too, but not as powerfully as they had been with Fanny.  I assumed I’d get even more rapt attention after my second and third bites, which I now waited for with even greater eagerness.  Still, I was satisfied with the fact that the men were now interested in what they saw.

Towards the back, I saw that asshole who was being rude to me the night before.  I still wished that scream I’d heard, after he made me cry, had been his…of him being sucked dry, as my three escorts presumably had been.  Anyway, he was behaving himself this time.  In fact, he seemed to like what he saw onstage.

I removed my bra towards the end of the Judas Priest song.  My breasts were now, as you know, larger and firmer, a pair of beauties I proudly showed off.  He was still interested.

My second song began: ‘You Suck,’ by Consolidated, with a naughty rap about cunnilingus by The Yeasty Girlz.  As I danced around mouthing the words with a wicked smile and looking him straight in the eyes and mouthing “Baby, you suck!”, an idea came to me: if having sex with the men was desirable for blood and mind-control purposes, then once I got my third bite and became a full vamp, I could seduce him, then get my revenge and suck the bastard dry.

If only I could have been a vamp right then and there.  I was so, so impatient for those second and third bites: how long would I have to wait for them?  I was starving for revenge against that guy!

I removed my thong.  He was still watching me, his mouth thirsty for a taste–I could sense his desire.  Now nude except for my high heels, I picked up the thong, made a slingshot out of it with my fingers, and flicked it at his face.  It slapped him right on the nose, and he was happy to get it.  The lecher was sniffing all along where it had been rubbing against my anal cleft.  What a perv!

The song ended, and I took off my shoes.  My third song was ‘Vampire,’ by Gorilla Zoe.  I still had his full attention.  He was standing a few feet away from the stage.  I slowly walked towards him, allowing his eyes to pour all over my nakedness.

Now not only confident with my body, but with defiant pride, I got down on the floor, my eyes locked on his, and spread my legs.  His jaw dropped at what was now showing.  His former rudeness had been transformed into awe.  His tongue was hanging out a foot.

I rolled over and started crawling back from him, my ass pointed at his face.  My legs were still wide apart, so everything was showing.  I could see his still rapt reaction in the mirror on the back wall.  I smirked.

The song ended.  I grabbed my shoes, bra, and purse, and got off the stage.  He followed me.

“‘Scuse me,” he said, presenting my thong.  “I think you forgot this.”

“Oh, thanks,” I said, still not able to smile at him, despite my plan to seduce him.  I put the thong on.

“Can I have a lap dance?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said as I put my bra back on.  “Ten bucks a song.”  I put on my high heels.

“Yeah, I know.  Lap dances sure are cheap here.  That’s why I like it here.”

“OK, there’s a private room in the corner over there that’s available.  Let’s go.”

We went in the room, and he closed the door.  He sat on a sofa against the far wall.  I sat on a chair facing him.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Hal,” he said.  “What’s yours?”


“Almost sounds like a boy’s name.”

“I don’t think so.”  I glared at him, then thought about all that blood I wanted to suck out of him.

“You don’t?”

“No.  You aren’t going to be rude to me again, are you?”

“Again?” he asked.  “When was I rude to you before?”

“Last night,” I said, still angry, though controlling it.  “When I was onstage.  Don’t you remember?”

“No, I don’t.  Then again, I was really drunk, and I get a little out of hand then.  They kicked me out last night, actually.  Look, if I made you mad, I’m sorry.”

“You made me cry.  I ran off the stage.”  I was almost about to cry right then.

“Oh, look, I’m sorry about that.  I can be a real dick sometimes.  Booze’ll do that to you.  But I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Really?”  I felt his sincerity.

“Yeah, really.  An’ I don’t mean that in a dirty way.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling.  Maybe when I become a full vamp, I won’t kill you after all, I thought.  Unless you piss me off again, that is.

A new song began, ‘Heavy Metal Love,’ by Helix, a longer, live version.  I got up and sat on his lap, facing him.  He was already hard as a rock.

I started grinding on him.  The pointy bulge in his jeans was rubbing against my groin, the sensation going through my thong and stimulating my clit.  I’d never felt that way about a client in a strip joint before, especially for a man who’d been rude to me.

Was my heightened horniness another side effect of the bite Andrea gave me?

Hal was actually a reasonably good-looking man: short blonde hair in a baseball cap, clean shaven, and thin, but with a little muscle tone in his arms and chest.

He also had sweet, baby blue eyes.

Without warning, I took off his cap and put it on my head.

He was bald.

He twitched in embarrassment at this revelation.  Now he was frowning like a little boy who’d had his toys taken away.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said, trying not to gloat at having piqued the physical insecurities of a man who’d done the same to me the night before.  “I know of ways to make you even better looking than you already are.”

“Oh?” he said, smiling that his baldness didn’t seem unattractive to me.  “How?”

“I wasn’t all that hot last night, when you saw me onstage,” I said, removing my bra.  “These were floppy then, as you had observed; now they’re firm.” I then put his face between my tits, and squeezed them against his cheeks.

“How’d you make them look better?” he asked.  He was touching them, gently pinching the nipples.

“It’s a secret.  But if you’re good, and you show devotion to me, I’ll divulge the secret, and you won’t need to wear that cap anymore.”  I removed my thong, burned around, bent over and gave him a look.

“I’d like…to…believe you,” he panted, staring at my…front and back doors, if you will…with equally disbelieving eyes.

Looking back at him upside-down from between my spread-out legs, I said, “You don’t have to believe me; just stay loyal to me, be a gentleman, and I’ll reward you.”  Then I reached up from between my legs with my finger and tickled his chin.

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Why “Real” Capitalism Can Never Exist

I’m no Maoist, but this is a good analysis of how capitalism works; it’s also a good debunking of an-cap claptrap.

ancap symbol


We’ve often heard the phrase “that’s not real capitalism” used as a denial for all the undemocratic, horrible, inhuman things capitalism does. Anytime capitalism does something horrible the excuse is made that a “real” free market wouldn’t have done it. This is usually accompanied by all manner of false claims about how the government is actually responsible. After that the usual prefect knowledge fallacy is used to claim that people would by subjective preference not allow it to repeat. In truth these horrible things are the very essence of capital itself and how it operates. Capital cannot be separated from how it functions. This dishonestly comes from “anarcho”-capitalists and sometimes conservatives.

To explain why “real” capitalism can never exist I will be using Marxist economics. The reason being there is a phenomenon, the nature of capital itself, which bourgeois economics doesn’t acknowledge the existence of. The reason why is…

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‘Vamps’, Chapter Four: Meeting Vamp Hunters

After a difficult night sleeping in that bed, I got dressed the next morning and went into town.  I got there by another path, this time from the side, rather than the front, of the POUMTANG Club.  That first path was too scary to walk through again, after what had happened to those three men…whatever that even was.

First I returned to the apartment I was renting, showered, and changed into some fresh clothes.  I also got my sunglasses, for indeed that sun had been bothering my eyes on the way from POUM to home, as Christina said it would.  Having left my apartment early that afternoon, I went east down Main Street to where the town hall was, which was dead centre: my apartment, near the western entrance to Caledonia, was as far from the town hall as The Sunshine Pub was from the other side, near the eastern entrance.

My destination was The Sunshine Pub, where I expected to find vamp hunters, since that’s what Andrea had told me the night before.  But I sensed that I could find vamp hunters in the town hall, too, for I was getting eerie vibes from that place, vibes I, as a once-bitten, assumed were coming from my developing vamp powers.  So I went in the front door.

The building’s exterior was painted mostly white, with red borders, and a sign saying Caledonia Town Hall in large black lettering was above the front doors.  Inside, there was a hallway going to my left and right after I entered: the left lead to an office of some kind, and the right lead to the washrooms.  Right in front of me were two more doors.  I opened them a crack and peeked inside.

Inside was a large room, obviously the main room, for town hall meetings.  I saw about fifty fold-up chairs arranged with an aisle in the middle leading up to a stage, in front of which was a podium.  Closed red curtains were right behind the podium; on the centre of them was attached a round white sign with a black symbol in its centre.  My eyes weren’t focused at first (for I was still a bit dazed from that bite), so what I saw seemed for a split second to look like a Nazi symbol.  Startled, I rubbed my eyes and looked again: no, it was an oval sign with a black crucifix.  On each chair was a Missal–this was a meeting place of Catholics, not Nazis.  I felt a little better…but not much better.

“Hey!” someone shouted, making me jump.  “What are you doing here?” he said in an agitated voice.  I looked to my right and saw an elderly man approaching me from the washrooms.

I quickly ran out of the building and resumed my walk over to The Sunshine Pub.  As I was quickly shuffling along, faster than I could normally shuffle, thanks to my newly-acquired abilities as a once-bitten, I looked back at the town hall, where I saw the old man looking at me from the opened front doors with a hostile look in his eyes.  Did he know I’d been bitten?  It sure seemed that way.

Anyway, he didn’t chase me, nor did anyone else, so I just calmed down and continued on my way.  About ten minutes later, I finally reached The Sunshine Pub, where I’d found Jim, Carl, and Randy, my unlucky escorts the night before.  I hoped I’d see them there again, as proof that they hadn’t been killed…or did I hope for that?  Did I hope they were actually killed by vampires, since now I was sensing how dangerous these townspeople were?  This latter hope was clearly Andrea’s influence on my will.

It was a spacious, one-storey building.  Coming in through the front door, I saw the bar to the immediate right, lining that wall all the way to the near right corner.  Liquor bottles and shot glasses lined all the shelves there, and the bar itself was  beautifully polished wood, with red-seated stools in front of it in a row.

There were round tables and chairs, these being to the left, in the centre, and to the right, with a space for the dart board in the middle of the left side.  A stage for bands to perform on was in the far right corner.  Everywhere else were round tables and chairs.  On the walls were photographs of varying size depicting, presumably, the locals fishing, playing sports, or smiling, drinking, and laughing inside the pub.  I tended to see the same faces often, and I got a sense that this pub was for the locals, and the locals alone.  Again, I had a subtle, vague feeling I wasn’t welcome.  Not a feeling from frowns or unfriendly body language from the patrons of the pub, but from vibrations all around me; it must have been my heightened vamp sensitivity.

I went to a table in front of the stage.  Three middle-aged men were sitting there, men I recognized from the day before.  Though I sensed an unfriendly attitude from them, slightly more so than the last time I’d met them (for they had reluctantly got Jim, Carl, and Randy to escort me to POUM), at least I knew them, and familiarity breeds at least a little confidence.

“Hi, guys,” I said to them.  “Did Jim, Carl, and Randy come back?”

“No, they didn’t,” the first of the seated men said, frowning at me as if my escorts’ disappearance had been solely my fault.  “It’s good to see you’re OK, I guess, but we’re not at all happy about not seeing them here, or anywhere in town today.  What happened when they took you to that…den of iniquity?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, frowning.  “Someone attacked them in the dark.  It happened so fast: I couldn’t see.”

“Vampires got ’em,” another of the men said.

“Oh, not that superstition again,” I lied, preferring to pretend I was still ignorant of what they knew, out of a wish to protect those who’d beautified me.  “I’m sure it was just thugs.”

“Really?” the third man said, studying my face with a distrustful frown.  “You look different from yesterday, you know.  Better, if a bit paler.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, thanks.  The girls gave me some beauty tips,” I stammered, sensing they knew I’d been bitten.  I pulled the collar of my shirt forward a bit to hide the bite on my neck.  It was only two very small holes, but I still hoped they hadn’t seen them!

“I’m sure they did give you ‘beauty’ tips,” the third man said, still eying me with suspicion.  “Of a supernatural kind.”

“So, you do that dirty lap-dancing with those other vamps, eh?” the second man said.

“I didn’t lap dance anyone last night,” I said.

“No?  But you stripped and showed yourself off, got the men’s morals all corrupted, didn’t you?” the first man said.

“I’d call my work art,” I said, slightly angry.

The men laughed loudly.

“You want art?  Go to the Heritage and Cultural Centre two blocks down,” the first man said.  “What you girls do is sinful.  Satanic.”

“It is not!” I growled.

“This is a Christian town,” the third man said.  “And this pub is the–should be the only watering hole in town.  We’d like to keep things that way.”

“Rather, it used to be a Christian town,” the second man said.  “Before the vampires came.  We’d like to bring it back to the Christian way.”

“Maybe you should leave town,” the first said, “while your soul is still your own.”

“Or come to church with us, and pray to God for forgiveness,” the third said.

“I’ve done nothing I should be ashamed of,” I defiantly insisted.

They laughed at me again.

“Sexuality should be freely expressed,” I said angrily.  “Not repressed the way you prudes would have it.”

“Sex belongs in the context of marriage and family,” the first man said.

“It shouldn’t be flaunted immodestly, as this lost generation does,” the second man said.

“With its openly-displayed hickeys!” the third said.  “We in Caledonia don’t want your new, big city ways.  Either repent, or get out of town!”

I could sense that the killers of Billie Bryson were these three men.  The vibrations they were all sending me were a virtual confession.  Rather than confront them with that question, I instead asked, “Who told you all that there are vampires in Caledonia?”

“A pretty young lady approached us one night,” the first man said.  “Pale, and with a pointy overbite, like you, but we doubt a vampiress would want her Satanic spawn killed, so we’ve always assumed her likeness to them is a coincidence.”

“She hates your kind as much as we do,” a middle-aged woman who’d just entered the bar said.  “She wishes all you dope fiend girls would die.”

“I don’t do drugs,” I said.  “Haven’t touched them in years.  And who are you?”

“Francesca Franks,” she said, approaching me with a growling frown.  “And you, whoever you are, sure look stoned enough to be still doing drugs.  Your kind always look that way, the first time you’ve been bit.  I’ve seen it before.  By the time you’ve been bit the third time, not even sunglasses will protect you from the sun.  And that young woman might help us find your home; then we’ll sneak in when you’re sleeping during the day, and we’ll destroy you, as we did Billie!  And all those other whores in those strip joints!”

“We’ll be coming for you, bitch!” the third man said.  “Unless you pray for forgiveness.”

I ran outside, and kept running and running.

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‘Vamps’, Chapter Three: Kissing, Licking, and Sucking…

In the bedroom was a king size bed.  We went over and I got on it.  The dim light in the room was tolerable for the other women.

I was so distracted by my eagerness to have their mysterious method improve my looks, that it was only when I saw the other three strippers, well, stripping, that I remembered I still didn’t have any clothes on myself.

“Um, ladies, I’m straight,” I said.

“Why does that matter?” Andrea said, now in her navy blue lace bra and thong.

“What’s wrong with experimenting?” said the first stripper, also now in her underwear, a pink bra and panties.

“Well, we don’t even know each other,” I said.

“My name is Christina Ball,” the second stripper said, shaking my hand and letting her white panties drop to her feet.  She was now fully nude, and she got beside me on the bed.

“And I’m Meg Hamilton,” said the first.  “You already know Andrea.”  All three women were nude and on the bed with me now.

“OK, I know your names, and I’m Erica, if you didn’t already know,” I said, my voice a little shaky now with shyness.  “But that’s all we know about each other.”

“Erica, we’re knowing each other more and more these very seconds,” Andrea said, kissing me on the cheek and fondling my right breast.  I now felt six hands and three pairs of lips gently roaming all over my skin.

Christina, a short, curvy blonde with long curly hair–a sexy little pixie–was sucking on my other breast, her lips gently pulling on my erect nipple.  Meg, also a short, curvy long-haired blonde, was between my legs, having kissed her way from my belly down there and making my whole body vibrate with pleasure.  Indeed, my original misgivings about lesbian sex were quickly dissolving into delight.  These women had the hands of masseurs and the tongues and lips of masters.

I just lay on my back, closed my eyes, and received it all, more and more eagerly all the time.  I softly moaned my thanks to those great kissers, lickers, and suckers.

Andrea’s tongue was slithering in my right ear, then it slid down across my cheek to my mouth.  She plunged her tongue deep inside my mouth and tangled it with my tongue, massaging it and the roof of my mouth.  No man had ever French-kissed me so expertly!

She wouldn’t let me move my tongue around much; she kept it away from her teeth, so it usually only stayed in my mouth.  I wondered why she didn’t seem to want my tongue to dance around inside her mouth the way hers did in mine.  Not that this mattered at all: I was getting really hot!

Meg’s face was now buried in my hairy, wet nether regions.  She was exploring me inside and out.  My moans were now sighs and squeals.

Christina’s hands gently roamed and caressed my skin, her left going from my neck, which she was kissing, along my chest and down to my pubic region, then back up.  Her right hand slid up and down my left arm.

While I was loving this lay better than those of the very best male lovers of my past, I still didn’t see what lesbian lovemaking had to do with giving me a better-looking body.  I couldn’t complain, though.

As Meg continued to slide in and out of me, I cried, “Ooh!”

Though embarrassed at how dirty and smelly I was down there, I couldn’t deny how good her sensitive tongue felt.  I could feel myself approaching orgasm.  I was squirming and writhing, but with intense excitement.

If lesbian sex was typically this good, I was switching to gay, immediately.

Christina was sucking on my right breast now while pinching the nipple of my left.  Andrea was kissing my neck, lightly nibbling on it.  Was I about to get a hickey?

Her nibbling was always in small, careful bites; but on one or two occasions, I was sure I’d felt a tooth as sharp as a cat’s.  I didn’t think too much of it, though, for I was just sizzling with lust.

My sighs and squeals were growing into screams.  I was about to climax.

Meg was working hard, her tongue and lips going faster and faster.  I was buzzing down there!

Finally, I let it out like a dam exploding.  It was the best explosion of pleasure I’d ever had, but with a big shock.  That hickey I would get from Andrea bit sharply and deeply into my neck!  My pleasure was matched with an equally sharp pain.

“Aaaah!” I screamed.  I felt my blood being pulled out of me.

I lay there in a daze, as if I were stoned.  I felt my will strangely half given to Andrea.  I didn’t know why, but apart from the bite, I felt better, stronger, more powerful…and despite my stupor, even more intelligent.

“What did you…do to me?” I asked with lazy panting.  “Why did you bite me?”  I looked over at Andrea.

Then I saw her bloody, bared fangs.

Then those of Christina and Meg.

“Holy shit!” I gasped.  “Those men…my three escorts here…were right: there are vampires here…Either that,…or I’m as high…as a kite.”

“We told you our plan was radical,” Christina said.  “But go look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Yeah,” Meg said.  “See what we did for you.”

I got off the bed, still feeling woozy after that bite, and went over to the mirror, on the dresser on the other side of the room.  I gazed on my nakedness with amazement.

“Oh…my…God,” I said, my eyes and mouth wide open.

No more flab.  Not even a bit.

My skin was smooth, creamy, and fairer.  No blemishes.  I looked several years younger, even.

My tits, which used to be floppy, were now firm…and bigger!

My curves were curvier.

My hairy bush?  Not so hairy now: it appeared neatly trimmed, as if by magic.

I turned around to look at my ass, which was no longer dimply, but round and beautiful.  Then I spread my legs and bent over to see how everything looked down there.  What used to be hairy and raunchy-looking was now neat, trim, and totally pleasing aesthetically, like a porn star.

My body wasn’t quite as perfect as those of the three blonde beauties who’d just had…and transformed me, but the improvement on my looks was something I could only be awed about.

I grinned with delight, tears forming in my eyes.

Then, having straightened up and turned around again to face the mirror, I took a closer look at my teeth.  There was no blood on my neck; after Andrea’s sucking of my blood, the wounds healed remarkably quickly–indeed, the bite marks were a barely noticeable pair of tiny dots.  I didn’t have the vampire fangs of Meg, Christina, or Andrea (or, presumably, all of the other strippers in the POUM Club), but my corresponding teeth were noticeably sharper; apparently, I was turning into a vampiress slowly.

“Why don’t I have full vampiress teeth, like yours?” I asked.

“Because you need two more bites to become a full vampiress,” Andrea said.  “When you’ve had your third bite, your body will be as perfect as ours are.”

“You’ll also have all our powers,” Meg said.

“And our intelligence,” Christina said.  “And psychic connection with everything, which gives you access to all worldly knowledge.”

“Is that why you strippers talk like, well, university grads?” I asked.  “And what are these powers you brag of?”

“Superhuman strength,” Andrea said.

“Shape-shifting,” said Meg.  “Quick healing.”

“And mind control,” said Christina.  “That’s great for making the boys do what we need them to do.”

“OK, and what about us being the spawn of Satan?” I asked with a tremble.  “Aren’t we all doomed to Hell?”

“Bullshit,” Christina said.

“Vampirism has nothing to do with Christian ideas,” Meg said.  “That’s why neither crucifixes nor garlic can destroy us.”

“Holy water’s useless against us, too,” Andrea said.

“Vampirism is pre-Christian and pagan,” Meg said.  “There are ideas in Greek myth that are closer to what we’re all about.”

“Old chthonic religion,” Christina said.

I was hearing this highfalutin vocabulary for the first time ever, yet strangely…inexplicably (See?  Even I use those big words now!)…I could understand, intuitively, what the girls were talking about.  That must have been what Christina meant by having a ‘psychic connection’ giving ‘access to all worldly knowledge’.  I really was getting smarter as well as sexier!

“After your third bite, you won’t need food anymore,” Andrea said.  “But you will need blood to drink.”

“You won’t need money, either,” Meg said.  “We strip and hook for men’s blood.”

“Don’t you need money for rent, water, and electricity?” I asked.  “And I don’t hook, by the way.”

“You will,” Meg said, “and you’ll like it.  For to get the men to do our bidding after we bite them, getting them hot enough to come maximizes our chances of winning their wills to our cause.”

“Our psychic powers provide our water and electricity,” Andrea explained.  “As for paying the rent, we scare the landlords away, use mind control to keep them at bay, or suck them dry.  Mind control also gets our liquor supplier to give us free booze.  We’re all secure that way, don’t worry.  But speaking of security, we need you to do something for us.”

Andrea approached me, looking me straight in the eyes in a way that felt hypnotic.  She caressed my cheek and stroked my hair.  As I mentioned before, I felt my will to be half at her command, while my remaining will, though my own, was charmed enough by her to want to do her bidding.

“What do you want me to do?” I sighed, still feeling as if I were high.

“Our world here is in danger,” she said.  “Someone is trying to destroy us.”

“Who?” I asked.  “I thought the usual Christian things don’t hurt you.”

“No, but sunlight does,” Christina said.

“Man-made light makes us uncomfortable, but exposure to daylight will burn us to ash, within seconds,” Meg said with a frown of fear.

“We all sleep in our apartments in town during the day,” Andrea said, still stroking my hair and gazing mesmerizingly in my eyes.  “And there’s no way the mortals could ever find us; but they have, and the only explanation is that enemy vamps have been helping them.”

“Who are the enemy vamps?” I asked.

“That’s what we need you to find out for us,” Meg said.

“You’re only once-bitten,” Christina added.  “So you can still endure the daylight, though it will bother your eyes a little.”

“Wear sunglasses when you go outside,” Meg said.  “There are other vamp strip joints here in Caledonia,” Andrea said, caressing my cheek, her eyes locked on mine.  “The CNT Club, short for CUNT Club, and the PRICK SUCK Club, or PSUC Club.”

“The Christian community here has wanted all three of us out because we’re strippers, but our use of mind control has kept them from knowing where any of us live,” Christina said.

“The only way the mortals could possibly know of us is if other vamps informed them,” Meg said.

“Vamps who hate us, for some reason,” Christina said.

“Why do they hate us?” I asked.

“Competition for blood, we assume,” Meg said.  “Who knows?”

“I suspect the reason is more subtle than that,” Andrea said.  “And that’s what we need you to find out.  Tomorrow afternoon, go into town and ask who knows of the finding of Billie Bryson’s apartment.”

“Who’s Billie Bryson?” I asked.

“She was the stripper you’re replacing,” Christina said.  “The mortals found her place a week ago, broke in during the day, opened her bedroom windows to the bright afternoon sunlight, and burned her to a crisp, her screaming in pain as she died.”  A tear ran down her cheek.

“The CUNT Club vamps claim one of their girls was similarly destroyed around the same time, and the PSUC Club vamps claim they lost two in the same way,” Meg said.

“We think one of them, or maybe both of them, are lying,” Christina said.

“Go into town tomorrow,” Andrea said, kissing me on the lips.  “Ask the people there who led them to Billie’s apartment.  When they describe the vamp, who of course approached them at night, we’ll know who he or she was.”

“A mere description will be enough to know who?” I asked.

“Yes, it should be,” Andrea said.  “Our psychic abilities will connect with the mortals’ words, and then we’ll be able to sniff out the traitor amongst us.”

“How do you know the traitor isn’t a vamp here?” I asked.

“We’d know,” Meg said.  “The proximity of our own vamps would make detecting their treacherous thoughts easy.  The closer you physically are, the easier it is to read your mind.”

“Go and find the traitor,” Andrea said after giving me another peck on the mouth.  “Help us stop our enemies, then after two more lovemaking rituals, and two more bites, you’ll be a full vamp.  We’ll give you eternal life.”

“Eternal life?” I gasped.

“Yes,” Christina said.  “Just drink blood, avoid the sun, and make love with the men you suck so they’ll be our loyal and willing protectors.”

“Their bodies improve with each bite, too,” Meg said.  “As does their intelligence and sensitivity, so a man who started out as an asshole can quickly become a nice guy.”

“Sex with the men will never hurt; in fact, it’s always pleasurable for you as a vamp, no matter which man you’re with,” Andrea added.  “For we vamps are impervious to pain…only pain inflicted by other vamps, or the sun, can hurt us.”

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