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For the benifit of sever'l readers, Mrs. Harlowe's Tale of Seduction "ARDOR".  
A story of Passions of an UnCoventional and Alarming Nature!!   For those of
a Delicate Sensibility, be warned that the Erotik Displays in this Tale are
of a Fever'd and Libertine Nature.  The Characters portray'd are LaCroix and
Natalie, in a Seductive and Erotick Display !!
This Tale is not meant to Alarm or Annoy Mr. Parriot, Mr. Slan, Mr. Bennent,
Miss Disher, any of their friends and Relations, nor their Servants,
Solicitors, Bondsmen, Hangers On, or to fret their Domestick Animals.
This Tale is Rated as One Plate of Raw Oysters with Lashings of Tabasco Sauce.
And so, Without Further Ado....


ARDOR
A Tale of Seduction
a Valentine Story
by Pamela Harlowe

         Natalie closed her front door behind her, and rested her back against it.
She felt relaxed and happy.  Well, why shouldn't she?  It was her birthday,
after all.  
        Nick had been incredibly sweet.  She'd arrived at his loft, expecting
take-out, concession to a movie she liked and a prettily wrapped present.
She didn't know where he got his presents wrapped, but they always looked
wonderful.  He'd surprised her this time.
        He'd candle-lit the loft until it was soft and sparkling.  Flowers were
everywhere, roses, iris, orchids, star jasmine, and narcissus filling the
loft with their sensual scents.  The dining table was properly set with
china and real silver.   He laid dinner out before her with a flourish, and
gallantly took a bit of everything she ate.   Afterwards, he pulled out her
chair and asked how her knee was doing.
        "My knee?  Oh, it's fine.  Why?"  That inquiry seemed a bit out of the blue.
        Smiling an answer, he drew her into his arms and clicked a button on one of
his fifteen million remotes.  When the music started, he kissed her nose and
led he out to an open part of the floor to dance.
        His gift was an onyx and gold brooch in a renaissance design.  It was a
perfect collar pin, delicate yet distinct.  She had gasped at the sight of
such a lovely thing.  
        When she kissed his cheek in thanks, his arms slipped around her.  He had
met her eyes with a soft look and their lips came together as if of their
own accord.  They kissed, soft and gentle, over and over for it seemed like
hours.
        Natalie pulled away first so Nick wouldn't have to.  She couldn't bear to
think of him pushing her back.  
        She'd driven home in a happy fog.  
        It had all been so beautiful.  She was contented; she wouldn't let herself
long for more, not tonight.  Natalie pushed herself off the door and put her
coat away.  Going into the kitchen she poured herself a drink.  She didn't
want to sleep just yet, perhaps lay on the sofa and listen to some music;
maybe read a while.  
        She walked into her living room.  Music was already playing.  Patterns of
light from the fire softly illuminated the room.  Candles were lit in front
of the mirrors, giving a bit more light.  The heavy velvet drapes had been
drawn.  She stopped, confused.  Then she saw him in the armchair.
        "Good Morning, Natalie." LaCroix closed the book he'd been leafing through
and set it aside.  
        Her glass hit the floor, it splashed but didn't break.  She took a step
back, started to turn...
        He was on her, arms around her in an iron grip.  One hand gently stroked
her face.  "Shh.. don't panic.  It's all right, I'm not here to kill you.
You're not in danger."
        She didn't believe him, not for an instant.  She was in danger, hell, HE
was danger with a capital fucking D!  "What... what are you doing here?"
she gasped out.
        "Calm down... come inside, and I'll tell you."  Arms around her, he guided
her to the armchair he'd vacated.  His hands pressed against her shoulders,
making her sit.  His hands pulled away reluctantly, as if concerned that she
might still take flight.  Instead, she sat tall and looked up to meet his
eyes.  She might be helpless against the ancient vampire, but be damned if
she'd let it show.
        LaCroix gave a faint, shadowy smile; as if he had expected this reaction.
This only annoyed Natalie.  "Well, what do you want?"  she snapped.
        "To give you the best wishes of the day, my dear."  He strolled to the
mantle, picked up a wine glass and sipped from it; the red fluid looking
black in the low light.
        "What?"  She was confused.  
        "It is your birthday, is it not?  I am not misinformed?"  
        "Yes."  she said, wary.
        "You're thirty-two."
        "Yes.  Did the thought of, oh I don't know, simply sending a card just not
occur to you?"  Natalie crossed her arms in front of her chest.  Why
couldn't he just say what he had to say and go?  
        "You must admit that does lack panache."  His eyes danced with amusement.
        She gave a snort.  "Oh, and we can't have that."
        "No."  He set the glass down, his long finger toying with the top.  "And
the gift would have been difficult to post."  He turned and looked at her
thoughtfully. "Thirty-two.  So, so young."
        "In your scheme of things, I'm sure it is."
        "In a sense.  We don't acknowledge our age very often.  Immortality can
weigh heavy after a time, so we don't remind ourselves of our lost
mortality.  Our anniversaries go unremarked.  So you see, it is rather
unusual that yours has been remembered."
        "If you have a point, please make it.  It's been a long evening and I'm
rather tired."
        "But, I'm sure, not as tired as you would wish."
        "I beg your pardon?"  Nat was a bit dumbfounded.
        "What was it?  Dinner?  Dancing?  A beautiful gift, not as exquisite as
you?  A few stolen kisses, a light touch, the fodder of youthful fantasies.
How romantic."  His tone was thick with irony.  He walked closer to her
chair, a wave of his hand cutting off her outraged protests. "But you aren't
a love struck teenager, my dear Doctor.  And you aren't a plaster saint of
all the virtues of the mortal existence.  You are very real, very hungry,
and you must get weary of constantly being kept longing."
        Natalie flushed pink, but her eyes lit with anger. "How dare you..."
        "Because, my mortal angel, I'm the only one who can.  You want to be more
tired, much more... You want Nicholas to carry you up to his lonely bed and
prove that his words stand on something you can touch.  You want to burn him
with your living, breathing warmth so he'll remember that you are not a mere
metaphor for a type of existence he once begged you for.
        "He looks at you and you feed his need for the light.  Has it ever occurred
to him that his shadow has fallen over you?  That there may be a part of you
longing for darkness, for desires, for hungers to be fed... hardly expected
of a innocent... I do dare, because I wish to know.  You'll face yourself
when Nicholas does not.  I can respect that."
        His words confused and infuriated her at the same time.  It was if he was
reflecting the truth in a warped mirror... the same but very different...
twisted and contorted.  "Stop it."  she hissed.  
        "Aren't you going to ask about your gift?" LaCroix stood over her now, his
voice soft.  
        Part of her wanted to run, another part wished to lean back and bask in his
beautiful voice and another part wanted to stand and belt him one.  "My
gift?  Okay, what is it?"
        Slowly, so slowly she could scarcely feel it he reached down and caressed
her hair.  "I will do for you what Nicholas would not."
        "What?" she was thunderstruck.  He couldn't mean that... No... Not that he
would... Could he?  She shook her head.  "No.  No, I'm not going to listen
to this."  She met his eyes.  "This isn't funny,  LaCroix."
        "Is it so absurd, then?"  He reached out with a single fingertip and
stroked her set jaw.  Feather-light, barely perceptible yet setting off a
tingle deep inside her.  "You mean to say that you've never thought of it?
What it would it be like, you and I?"
        "No!" she spat.  A furious blush rose to her face, negating her denial.  It
was a lie, but she would never admit it, not to him, never!  She turned her
face away.  The thoughtfully stroking fingertip turned into two and moved to
her ear, and her throat.   She should push him away... she wanted to push
him away...but the touch was soft and sweet...was erotic in a way that was
nearly subliminal... and it scared her to death and intoxicated her at the
same time.
        He scared her to death.  
        She wouldn't let it show.  This effect on her,  it was wild, hungry, and
unwelcome.   She couldn't let him do that to her, but he was.  
        "I'm wounded." his voice was soft, ironic.  She could swear she could feel
it in the pit of her stomach.  "I have.  Many times.  And I have imagined
that you might."  The caress on her neck grew bolder, slipping into the
neckline of the dress.  "Should I tell you what I've imagined about you?"
        Her mouth opened, but the words didn't want to form.  She was terribly
conscious of the quiver in her thighs and the racing of her heart.  "What?"
she rasped out.
        "I've imagined you lying on that sofa, listening to my voice on the stereo.
Not intensely, mind, just letting the words slide over you as you read a
book,   maybe nodding in agreement or shaking your head in protest from time
to time."  She closed her eyes.  She could see the scene, she'd done it many
times.  "Thinking perhaps you should go turn it off, but not quite able to
make yourself rise from your comfortable position..."  Natalie felt the warm
flush rise from her neck and across her cheeks.  She knew his fingers
recorded it as she swallowed nervously.  "Perhaps I'm talking about desire,
about hunger, about needing a touch, about longing for the forbidden, the
untouchable, I understand you, it is in all of us;"  Those words cut to her
core.  "...and your fingers slowly draw the skirt of your robe up over your
knees and letting it rise up your thighs.  You might not even look up from
your book, not even notice the catch in your breath.  But your hand would be
resting on your inner thigh moving lower, almost as if drawn there."  To her
horror she could herself growing wet in reaction to his erotic voice.  "I am
there, my child, and sense the passion inside wanting to be released, let
go, and I'll catch you... and the words blur on the page as you touch
yourself... wet... swollen... warm... your fingers gently open your vulva
and you gasp with touch of the cool air...I know that hunger, how it burns
inside... and your clit is hard under your fingers...you're more aware of my
voice now... you realize that the words echo inside and arouse you more...
you put more pressure on your strokes now... you turn your face to the
cushions, blushing with shame... and your orgasm is all the more sweet for
it...if I were here, I'd taste it, Natalie.   I'd take you farther in until
your whole body turns liquid."  Her fingers gripped the chair arms tightly,
nails digging in.
        This was too close to the truth, Oh God...  How many times had she done
that!  How could he know!
        Suddenly, she was buoyed by a flash of anger.  She jerked herself out of
the chair and moved away, arms crossed, body guarded.  "Why, why are you
doing this?  Are you trying to get me on your side?  Are you just trying to
get at Nick?"  She lashed out, as angry at herself and her arousal as she
was at his use of her.  "You think this will hurt him?"  She swung toward
him, her arms stiff and her hands clenched.
        LaCroix had moved back to his position by the mantle, draining his glass.
"Contrary to popular opinion, Nicholas is not the single deciding factor for
all of my behavior."
        "Then what?"  
        "My motivations are quite simple, my dear.  I want to fuck you."
        Her jaw dropped.  What shocked her wasn't the vulgarity, but the
directness.  There was nothing else in his sentence that the declaration
could be twisted behind.  Her mind floundered, trying to think of a reply.
"I can't believe you."
        In a split second he was beside her.  His mouth was over hers, claiming
hers, the coolness of his tongue ravishing her heat.  His hand was firm on
her neck, keeping her still.  She could feel him, all of him, the thin
fabric that separated them insufficient.  She trembled, but didn't resist.
Did she want to?  She realized with horror that her nipples hardened in
response.
        He broke the kiss, but didn't pull back.  His eyes burned intently into
hers, she couldn't look away.  "I want to fuck you." he repeated, the
strength of the word sounding strange on his cultured tongue.  "I want to
feel your cunt close around me like a hot fist.  I want your mouth, to have
you drink from me as I will you.  To turn you over and fill you completely.
To feed on your blood, your come, your tears.  Give yourself up to me, and
I'll wake you; Natalie.  I'll show you more about your desires that you've
ever seen.  You'll come harder than you ever have."     
        She tried to pull away, but his hand on her neck was like iron.  "You
can't!" she gasped, "It's not possible!"
        He kissed her again, much harder.  Almost in self-defense she kissed him
back, her tongue warming his.  God, his mouth tasted wonderful!  His other
hand reached down, pulling up her hem, caressing her silk encased leg.
        She jerked back, gasping for air.  She grabbed his arm at the wrist to keep
it from rising up her leg.  She couldn't let him touch her... She couldn't
let him know how wet she was...
        "It is possible, Natalie, with proper preparation and self-control.
Neither are Nicholas forte, I'm afraid.  The ability to set limits,
understanding one's strengths and weaknesses.  He is so impulsive, he
forgets himself easily.  I do not."  He glanced at her hand gripping his
wrist.  "But you don't love me.  You don't trust me.  I am a danger to
you... even more than he is... I think that excites you, Natalie, as well as
terrifies you..."  She shivered at the sound of the truth.  "I can tell you
that you are safe... That I would only hurt you to tease and arouse you...
And it would arouse you, I promise... But how could you know for sure?  I am
a killer after all, but then, so is Nicholas, much as he wishes to
forget...I tell you to submit to me, give yourself to my control and I will
satisfy you like no lover has ever tried to..."  She quaked at his words.
Nick was what she wanted, but what did she need?  The idea frightened and
thrilled her.   "But you can never trust me... that edge of terror will
stay... it will feed your hunger, Natalie, sharpen it, you'll be completely
awake."  His voice dropped a little in intensity.  "It's shaming, isn't it,
to want me?  Why?  Nicholas might even understand, after all, he once wanted
me too.  You know that, you aren't so naive.  This has nothing to do with
him, only with you and I.  Let go of my wrist, prove to me with your body
that you don't want me."  He kissed her again, slowly now, sensual.  She
tasted his lip, the blood on his tongue was earthy.  His wrist slipped from
her hand and rose up her legs.  He felt her wetness through the silk and
massaged her.  "My hungry one, my little innocent, let go... You'll enjoy
it, I promise you... Follow me into the shadows... let me show you... " She
moaned now, and her arms went around him.  Her eyes were wet, and she shook
her head.  
        "I can't do this... I can't."  But how could she stop him?  Choice was an
illusion.
        "Yes, you can." he whispered.  He kissed her earlobe, teeth teasing her
skin.  "You can.  Give in to our desire."
        "I love him." she whispered.  It was her last defense.
        He kissed her again, fingers urgent on her sex. "And you'll still love him
when it's over.  I won't take you away from him,  this is only for us."  
        "LaCroix..."  she stopped and gasped.  Her need was so great.  His control
was so strong.
        "Lucien, it's Lucien.  Come with me, my mortal angel.  You want me, you
need me, you crave it, you long for it....let me show you... let me teach
you... say yes to me... say yes..."  His finger slipped under the silk.  She
whimpered.  He stroked her burning clit with two fingers.  "say yes..."  He
massaged gently, her slickness making it fast and sharp.  "say yes.  I won't
let you go, I won't let you fall... say yes...my innocent one..."  Her gasps
harsh, her knees weak.  "say yes..." 
        "Yes," she gasped.  "yes."  Her hands tightened into fists on his
shoulders.  She came then, sharp and throbbing.  A tear slid down her cheek.
He licked it off, and kissed her slowly.
        "Don't fight my control over you... be guided by me, and you will be
safe..." He lowered her to her knees.  She was trembling.  Gently cupping
her head, he moved her face to the front of his trousers.  He rubbed her
cheek against the cloth, letting her feel his erection.  She reached up
hesitantly with one hand to touch, and he seized it.  His kissed her
fingertips.  "Not yet, I have other plans.  We have all day, Natalie."
        He turned away then, refilled his glass and quickly drained it.  Two more
followed suit.  Then he leaned over by the chair and picked up a flat
leather case.   He laid it on the floor by the fire, within reach.  As he
unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off, she glanced over at the case.  It
looked very old.  She reached out and touched the old leather.
        "Curiosity, my dear."  he whispered in her ear.  His skin was warmer now,
from the blood he'd drunk. "Lay down, angel.  On your back."
        With a nervous flutter in her stomach, she obeyed.  It was hard to have
given in, to keep giving in.  But what choice did she have? And yet, it was
exciting her in away she would never have admitted to herself before.
Nick's Master... and now hers?  LaCroix's self-confidence was so absolute...
        He opened the case.  Inside was a set of Victorian surgical instruments, in
excellent condition.  They shone in the light.  Her eyes widened in alarm.  
        What was it he'd said?  I will only hurt you to tease and arouse you...
        It took all her self-control to stay still.   
        "Yes, I knew you would appreciate these relics.  Listen carefully, now.
Follow my instructions exactly.  Don't move unless I tell you.  You'll enjoy
this."
        She paled a little as he picked up the long post-mortem knife.
        "I'd tell you not to be afraid, but you wouldn't believe me."  He slid the
knife through the top buttonhole of  her woolen dress; popping the button.
He moved on to the next one.  "I think it helps you a little, doesn't it?
If I frighten you, then it's easier to have given in -- makes the bitter
pill easier to swallow.  Though I believe the fear itself excites you... you
seem drawn to things that can harm you...."  Her dress was falling open to
the waist.  Carefully, he continued to cut it off her, the sharp blade
coming within millimeters of her skin.  Her breath quickened and she
clutched the rug, terrified.  Her traitorous cunt grew damp with excitement,
shaming her with desire.
        He pulled the shredded pieces of cloth away.  She lay shivering in her
lingerie.  Slowly, he shredded her lacy bra and pulled it free.  He teased
her nipples with the cold flat of the blade, firelight dancing over the
silver.  Her nipples grew hard and her mouth moist.   She bit back a moan.
He moved lower.  The blade cut through her tap pants with a tearing sound.
He parted her legs to pull the silk free.
        He stopped. 
        She looked up, to see what had distracted him.  
        LaCroix was looking at her lace-topped stockings.  She wore no garter belt.
Finally, he put the knife down and turned over the edge of one to examine
the silicone garter that was sewn in.  He looked so impressed that  she
couldn't help but smile.  He lifted a wry eyebrow.  "That's very clever."
He smoothed the edge back into place.  "Let's leave these on for a while."
        He lifted the knife again. "Don't move."  he ordered.  The metal was cold
against her inner thigh, but he didn't cut her.  He teased her with it,
gently tracing, drawing it closer...Then, he turned it in his hand.   Using
the handle, he parted her labia.  She gasped.  "Oh yes, my hungry one."  He
slid the handle of the knife into her wetness, it went in easily.  He drew
it out slowly, and moved it back in.  Again, and again. She closed her eyes.
A soft sound escaped her.
        He pulled the knife away, wiped the handle and set it aside.  He picked out
another instrument, it was smaller, for finer cutting.  Leaning over her, he
traced his tongue over her upper lip.  
        He cut her.
        She gasped.  It was so fast and so sharp she barely felt it.  It was a tiny
cut, barely a scratch, under her collarbone.  A few drops of blood beaded
up.  He closed his mouth over the tiny wound and licked it clean.  
        The next one was on the underside of her right breast.  Her body arched
slightly to him, wanting to feed him.  Giving up her blood, what she had so
often wished to do.  Her abdomen, the scratch stung a little here but the
feel of his tongue was exquisite.  Her moans came freely now as the blade
bit into her upper hip, and his licks becoming careful sucks. His hand
drifted between her thighs, fingers entering her vagina, her body welcoming
the penetration.   At her upper thigh a few beads of blood tried to flow, he
caught them eagerly and then shifted slightly to give a few licks across her
clit.  He held down her hips when she arched against him.  He moved down to
her knee... her ankle... the stockings were running, she didn't care...
        He rolled her over and started to move up.  One of her low heels slipped
off, he replaced it gently.  At the backs of her thighs she felt a tiny
stickiness against the silk. She moaned again as he moved up to the curves
of her ass. As he licked the tiny scratch, he probed her anal opening
gently.  Natalie recoiled barely perceptibly, a reaction of surprise and
inexperience.  He sucked his fingers, moistening them with saliva and blood.
He probed again, massaging gently, stroking, preparing.  He penetrated with
a single finger and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure and pain.  He
thrust gently, letting her get used to the feel and she gasped again, then
moaned.   "Little innocent.  I'll enjoy initiating you to this. It will be
like nothing you've ever felt  It will be exquisite."
        Lucien was over her now, cutting on her shoulder blade.  "This cut is a
little deeper.  I'll want to taste your blood from time to time.  If I don't
have to bite you, I can maintain more control."  The hair on his chest
tickled her spine.  The cloth of his trousers was soft against her buttocks.
She could feel his erection, heavy and strong, straining against his
trousers as he sucked the cut.  It excited her even more.  His thigh was
heavy between her legs, rubbing her inner thighs.  
        He kissed the back of her neck, but didn't cut it.  He tilted her head with
one hand, and his mouth closed over her earlobe.  His teeth teased the
indentation where her piercing was done.   His other hand reached back and
caressed her backside.
        It was driving her out of her mind.
        He sat up, pulling her with him.  He kissed her mouth, her throat, and then
returned to her ear.  "Tell me," he whispered. "Have you ever been spanked
by a lover?"
        Natalie blushed to the roots of her hair.  "No..." she shook her head and
dropped her eyes.  She had fantasized about it, but had never dared to talk
about it.
        Lucien arched her head up and kissed her passionately.  His eyes glinted
with merry wickedness.  "But you've wanted to... haven't you..."  Her
embarrassed reaction was the only affirmation that he needed. "You've
wondered if you would like it... you will, Natalie."    
        She opened her mouth to refuse, she couldn't, not with him!  It would be
too frightening!  Then she felt the throbbing between her legs.  He would
hurt her!  And yet, why was she so turned on?
        He traced her lips with a fingertip.  "It is your birthday.  It is
customary, is it not?"  He kissed her upper lip.
        "Yes," she whispered, yielding and ashamed.
        He kissed her lower lip.  "A slap for every year, isn't it?"
        "And one to grow on."  she whispered, acquiescence unspoken, yet she knew
he understood. 
        "And one to grow on."  Lucien kissed her fully, pleased that her tongue
shyly touched his own. He wanted her to desire this, he wanted so much from her.
        "You'll hurt me..." Her whisper was frightened, and yet full of longing.
        "And I'll pleasure you.  The pleasure will be all the sweeter for it.
You'll like it, Natalie, I promise."  Gently, he drew her to her feet.  He
led her to the sofa, and guided her behind it.  After adjusting some
cushions so her upper body would be supported, he bent her over from the
back.  He touched a hand to the back of her thighs.  "Part your legs a
little, angel.  I want to be able to touch you.  That's it.  A little wider,
good.  Try to relax."  He stroked her buttocks.
        The first blow stung, but she yelped more in surprise than pain.  He
stroked her again, soothing.  When the second slap came, she was ready and
didn't cry out, only closed her eyes against the sting.  The soothing touch
was back, petting her flesh.  Then the third slap came down, and she gasped
in pain.  He stroked her again, slipping his hand down to caress her labia,
feeling her wetness for a moment.  Her body showed her excitement.  He
slapped her again, harder this time.  Her hands tightened on the fabric of
the cushions.
        Soon, her gasps of pain alternated with moans of pleasure.  He placed his
blows carefully, she didn't think there was a place on her bottom that
didn't sting.  His caresses, sweet and inticing, pushed her arousal farther
than she'd ever experienced.  He was building both slowly, creating greater
intensity.  The stinging was starting to burn, tears were filling her
eyes...but she didn't want him to stop.  It was more exciting than she had
ever fantasized.  The massaging touch against her anus, her vulva, her clit
was driving her to a fever pitch.  She was shocked by how wet she was.
        When he penetrated her vagina with his other hand, she thought he might be
through.  She had long lost count of the spanks.  The image of him taking
her like this was humiliating and wanton.  The slap that followed was so
hard and solid that she had to choke back a sob.  Tears slid out from under
her lids.  His hand pumped into her again, then pulled back.  The blow that
followed was harder still.  An inarticulate sound tore out of her throat.
The finger of his other hand, wet with her longing, opened her anus.  She
gave a sobbing moan.  The finger slid in and out easily now.  He pulled his
hand back, and gave her another hard spank.  The cry escaped her before she
could stop it.  He slid two fingers into her anus now, opening her wider.
        Then she understood.  He was preparing her, making her ready. 
        Horrified, she knew she wanted it.  She welcomed it.
        She moved slightly, arching back towards his thrusting hand.  He leaned
over and kissed her shoulder, pleased. "Soon, my angel, soon.  We're almost
done.  You've been so brave, so good.  You haven't moved an inch."  His
fingers slid out and he caressed her soreness. "You'll have never felt so
filled before, angel.  I'm going to give you more than one at a time now, to
move us along.  It helps to open you.  You are so sweet. You respond so
beautifully."
        Natalie tightened her hands, but willed her lower body to stay relaxed.
The volley of four hard slaps wrenched sobs out of her.  The pain stimulated
her,  the release of emotion was cathartic.  She wanted more.  He penetrated
her again, soothing.  Then the next volley...  and again... and again... By
the time he said, "Last one," she was feeling light headed, almost euphoric,
in spite of her tears.  Her endorphins were kicking in.  The last blow
caused her to cry out, and she felt like she was collapsing, but she didn't
move.
        Lucien moved to the front of the sofa.  Kneeling before her, he raised her
tear-streaked face and kissed and licked her tears away.  "All over, all
over.  It will be pleasure for you now, yes, such pleasure." his tongue
rasped gently under her eyes.  "You're so wet.  You liked it, admit it... It
excited you more than you ever thought it would.  Don't be ashamed with me."
        "Yes," she gasped out.  "Yes, I liked it."  More tears slid down.
"Please..."  she struggled to remembered his earlier words.  He would
initiate her, he said.  For the first time in her life, she wanted to beg to
be fucked. 
        He kissed her forehead, and went back behind the sofa.  She could hear the
soft sound of his trousers falling.  He touched her again, stroking her
burning skin.  His hands found her hips and pulled her toward him.  "Move
back a little.  Good."  The cool liquid of the lubricant felt good against
her.  He applied it liberally, finger fucking her ass some more.  He pressed
his erection against her thigh, letting her feel his own excitement.  "We'll
go slowly, ma petite.  We'll savor this..."  
        She moaned with the taboo pleasure as he opened her more and more with his
fingers.  She shivered as they pulled away, and the head of his cock pressed
against her.  Slick with lubricant, he entered her anus slowly, carefully.
She cried out as he entered.  He was too big, he was huge, he would hurt
her, her nerve endings were on fire... He reacted instantly, holding her
hips steady, speaking softly.  "Shh...don't panic... it's all right...keep
still... relax, relax, you'll open for me...Shh..."  She fought her panic
back, willing herself to keep still.  She pressed down inside, opening, and
he moved in deeper.  Pleasure started to rise as her overstimulated nerves
adjusted.  "Yes, Natalie, that's it."  He pulled back slightly and thrust
forward a little more.  The initial pain eased into soreness where her anus
was stretched.  It felt better now,  with his gentle thrusting.  She gasped
out, in desire this time.   Then she felt his flanks press against her sore
flesh and knew he was all the way in.
        Lucien leaned over her, unable to suppress a blissful groan.  He remained
motionless for several moments, absorbed in sensation, letting her feel.  He
had been right, she had never felt so filled before.  It was indescribably
intense.  
        He withdrew slowly, and thrust again; more forceful now.  She moaned in
genuine pleasure.  He thrust again, pulling her hips back to meet him.  She
clutched the cushions for support.  It was incredible.  He moved more
determinedly now, seeking a rhythm.  His own sounds of excitement aroused
her even more.  She moved with him, ignoring the pressure on her sore ass.
The acute sensations were exquisite.   She felt close to tears again, from
intense pleasure rather than pain.  She was peaking, she could feel it.
She whispered his name and he thrust harder into her.  She gasped it again,
pushing back to meet him.  He whispered encouragments to her as he slid a
hand under her to caress her hard clitoris.  He closed his mouth over the
cut on her shoulder blade. 
        Natalie came with a silent scream than ended in a sob.  It was
overwhelming, consuming -- like nothing she'd ever felt.  
        His cool skin felt curiously dry against her hot body, now slick with
sweat.  He rubbed his cheek against her shoulder and caressed her clit
again.  Her body bucked beneath him.   He fucked her for himself now,
driving himself for his own release.    She felt a yielding inside,
something dissolving under wave after wave of intense sensation.  She came
again and again, sobbing openly now, clutching the cushions tight in a white
knuckle grip.  His arms tightened around her, fingers harsh on her
over-sensitized clit, mouth closing over her cut shoulder blade, driving
himself harder.  His thrusts pounded into her, more fierce than she'd ever
experienced.  It was too much...too much... she came again and screamed his
name.  His muscles tightened, driving her forward as he gave himself to
orgasm.  She could smell sweat and blood, and found it sweet.
        He carefully pulled away.  Then he was gone.
        Natalie slumped on the sofa, unable to move.  Her bones were like jelly.
Her skin was feeling clammy from the drying sweat.  She had never felt so
utterly spent before.  She wondered where he'd gone...  Slowly, Natalie
raised her head and tried to find her footing.  She pushed herself up, her
legs shaking.  
        LaCroix was suddenly beside her, steadying her.  He kissed her passionately
on her soft relaxed mouth and lifted her into his arms.  Natalie didn't
resist, just laid her head against his shoulder and let herself be carried.  
        He had tasted like fresh blood.  His skin was flushed and warmer.  He had
left her to feed.
        It was all a matter of preparation and control...
        He carried her into the bathroom and set her down on the counter top.  The
cold marble felt good on her butt.  She leaned back against the mirror.  He
filled a glass from the tap and handed to her.  
        "Thank you..."  her voice was soft, shy to her own ears.  She drank eagerly.  
        He looked pleased.  He touched her face with a fingertip.  "Little
innocent."  He turned away and opened the cupboard doors.  He lifted a
couple of maroon bathsheets down and set them beside her.  He started
inspecting her shower gels.
        Knowing what he must have in mind, Natalie pulled off her shoes and set to
work rolling down her stockings.  "The green pump, we'll need that."
        "Why?"  He lifted it up and smelled it.
        "It's anti-bacterial and antiseptic.  To prevent infections.  And the one
called Rain, that's nice."  She pulled an unopened body scrubber out of the
drawer and opened it.  Lucien took the blue mesh ball and examined it, curious.
        Natalie slid off the counter and went to the tub.  Playing with the taps a
while she got a nice warm flow going.   She took the body scrubber and one
of the bottles and stepped in.  She placed the objects on the side of the
tub and waited for Lucien.  He took the other bottle and followed, sliding
the glass door shut behind him.  
        She flicked the shower on and stood under its flow, letting the water race
over her skin.  He ran his hand through her hair, letting the water through
to every strand.  It felt wonderful.  Some of her energy seemed to come
back.   Lucien caressed her back, then ran a hand over her reddened bottom.
She flinched a little, but it wasn't too bad.  It was sore just enough for
her to want a little more.
        The thought frightened her.  She took a half step back and took the green
pump bottle from his hands.  "Here let me."  
        Foaming her hands, she rinsed them clean and then poured more soap on.  She
washed his genitals gently, moving his foreskin, softly massaging his
testicles.  He was well endowed sexually, long and thick.  Natalie was
grateful she had not seen him before, or she might have been too scared to
let him...  She moved her fingertips through his light brown nest of pubic
hair, tickling.    Natalie, could you really have stopped him?  She told
herself.   She slipped a soapy hand beneath and carefully washed his anal
opening.  He stroked her hair to show his pleasure at her comforting touch.
She rinsed him with her small shower massage, and then took his hands in
hers.  She soaped them with care, and used a nail brush on the tips.  He
touched his lips to her hair in a gesture of unusual gentleness.
        Taking up the show gel and the body scrubber, she asked him to turn around.
Curiously passive, LaCroix turned away without a sound.  His muscles seemed
stiff under her hands as she soaped him.  Massaging with the scrubber, she
worked over his skin.  She went over and over the muscles of his back until
the iron bent and returned to flesh.  Finally, he relaxed into her touch.
Natalie knelt and moved to his buttocks and legs, easing the stiffness out.
"So stoic," she whispered.  She slid a hand between the rounds of his ass,
touching softly.  He moved unconsciously toward her gentle hand.  She probed
gently, and penetrated him with a finger.  It slid in easily.  
        The stroking on her hair returned.  A rumbled sigh of pleasure rolled out
of him.  She thrust gently, aroused by his receptivity.  The hand tightened
a little on her hair in excitement.  She could feel herself growing wet
again.  She kissed his hip and withdrew, rising to her feet.  She rinsed him
off with the small spray.  "Turn around," she said softly.
        He turned back around, his expression relaxed.  She was gratified to see
his cock had stirred in response.  For a moment, she paused, waiting to see
if he would direct her... but he did nothing.  It was still her move.  
        Natalie soaped his shoulders and upper chest, massaging the muscles.
Lucien closed his eyes and remained still, sensual mouth soft and inviting.
She leaned up and kissed him, tongue roaming over his lips.  She tasted
blood and liked it.  Her tongue slipped in and danced with his.  His hands
rose to embrace her, then slid back off her skin.  He seemed content to let
go now, to bask in her initiative.  Was he that confident of his control
over her?  Or did he welcome this as proof of her wanting him... of wanting
what he did to her...of her wanting more...
        Natalie pushed the unruly thoughts away and returned to the task at hand.
His chest hair was lighter than his pubic hair, he was not a young man when
he changed.  She moved lightly, taking care not to pull, caressing his
nipples until they were as hard as her own.  The muscles on his abdomen were
flat and hard, and were slow to relax to her touch.  His cock was growing
more hard, but she didn't touch it; soaping his flanks and hips instead.
Kneeling she massaged his thighs, noting every muscle.  There was a scar on
one knee... it must have happened before... she kissed it, licking  it
softly; he growled with pleasure.  She rose, and rinsed him off.  His pale
skin shone with reflected moisture.  He was a like a statue, carved of
ivory, remote and glorious.  
        "So stoic..." she whispered again, and kissed him.
        LaCroix returned the kiss with longing.  "My hungry one."
        "Yes..."  She said into his mouth, and suddenly dropped to her knees.  
        She tongued his erection roughly, tasting salt and blood.  Her mouth moved
over and over him, warming his cool flesh.  His hardness grew under her
attention, the stroking on her hair returned.  Shifting her head, Natalie
took his cock in.  
        She sucked his head, teasing his foreskin with her tongue.  She took him
deeper, lashing at him, teasing him with her teeth.   A groan of pleasure
rewarded her.  Relaxing her throat, she took him as deep as she could,
covering him with saliva.  His hand tightened reflectively on her hair.  She
pulled back slowly, pressing him against the roof of her mouth.  Both of his
hands were on her hair now.  She could feel the muscles of his thigh quiver
under her hand.  
        Her cunt throbbed in counter time to her slow, rhythmic sucking.  She
didn't touch herself, choosing to concentrate on his pleasure now.  His
response to her, the slow dissolving of his reserve was wildly, intensely
exciting.  She could feel a tremor in his hips as he resisted the urge to
thrust.  She didn't want him to resist.  Dropping her jaw, she relaxed her
throat, letting her tongue keep the pressure on the underside of his cock.
She raised her hands to his hips and moved him forward, encouraging him.  
        He didn't understand her signal, not at first.  Her hands were away from
his cock, so she couldn't control how far he went in.  He rocked forward
slightly, holding her head steady.  She pulled his hips again.  With a moan
he thrust deep into her soft mouth.  She received him with yearning.  Then
he understood what she was giving him permission to do.  Holding her head
steady, he fucked her hot mouth with slow, hard strokes.  Her body flushed
in color in arousal to his pleasure and exertion from her efforts,
threatening to destroy his self-control.  Orgasm rose furiously, undeniably
towards him.
        "Natalie, you're so sweet, so hungry..."  he growled out, thrusting again
and again,  "Drink from me, my angel, drink from me."  Come and Blood filled
her mouth around the gag of his cock.  She swallowed fast, before she could
choke.  
        He pulled away from her so fast that she slid to one side, off balance.
There was a rush of cold air as the shower door opened, and then he was gone.
        She was alone.
        She slid down and let the shower rain over her.  Finally she prodded her
relaxed muscles into action, got up and washed herself.  
        Afterwards, she stepped out and reached for the other bathsheet.  A rose
and a note lay on top of it.  Natalie lifted the note, trying not to drip
all over it.
        N,
        Go into your bedroom and rest for a while.  I will come for you soon.
        L
        Damn, she thought.  I didn't make my bed this morning.
        Rubbing herself with the bathsheet she padded to the bedroom.  More candles
were lit in here, and gardenias floated in a crystal bowl on her vanity.
Her bed was made, and dried lavender was scattered across the comforter.
Her chaise lounge, normally the support for her not quite clean, not quite
dirty clothes pile had been cleared off and a silk shawl had been draped
over it.  A low table had been place beside it.  A large glass of juice and
a plate of fruit, cheese and what looked like some leftover pasta salad from
supper last night was on it.  
        Natalie was touched by the consideration of her needs.  Rubbing her hair
until it was merely damp, she dropped the towel on the floor and sat down.
A little sore, but not bad.  She ate quickly, surprised by how hungry she
was.  She savored the fruit last, sucking most of it for every bit of
moisture.  Sipping the juice slowly, she lay back on the chaise.
        Now at the mercy of her troubled mind.  
        His excitement at her response and then his gentleness in the shower had
helped ease the terror she'd felt.  She was still ashamed of how much she
had liked it all.  The pleasure, the pain, the giving up of control...she
liked it.  What this what she needed, deep down?  She remembered her thought
in the shower.  No, she couldn't stop him.  Not really, he could overpower
her, hell, he could kill her.  But that was part of it, too.  Her
inhibitions were being peeled away at the loss of the luxury of refusal. It
had been easier, no safer,  to never go there, never ask, just take the
ideas out in fantasy when she was alone and  nobody else could see.  Now,
she wasn't being asked, only taken and it felt so good.  Better than she'd
ever imagined. She couldn't deny her pleasure to the cuts on her skin, the
blows to her flesh or the cock deep in her ass.  What was being awakened in
her? 
        She had lied, before.  She had wondered what it would be like with Nick's
demon Master, whose voice haunted her.  Now she knew... and she wondered
what was next.
        She closed her eyes.  I'm sorry, Nick.  I'm sorry. 
        Natalie's hand slipped between her thighs.  She touched herself lightly,
making sure her fur wasn't tangled from washing.  She stroked herself absently.
        She barely kept from jumping out of her skin when Lucien's hand slid over
her own.  His voice was soft and amused in her ear.  "Thinking of me?"  He
didn't wait for an answer, just kissed her slowly.  She kissed him back with
real warmth, hesitating only a moment.   "Are you rested, Natalie?  I have
more plans for you."  His smile was wicked and her stomach gave a nervous
flip.  Her hips, however, arched against his hand.
        He pressed his hand hard against her with kiss to her ear.  Then he pulled
back and helped her to her feet. She bent over to retrieve the towel and he
caressed her still tingling backside.  As she rose, he leaned in and kissed
her hair.  As they moved out of the bedroom he picked her hairbrush off her
vanity.  
        "Let me put this towel away.  I'll be right there."  
        He touched her face.  "I'll be waiting for you."
        Quickly, she laid the bathsheet over the shower door to dry.  His own towel
was already in it's place.  She took a couple of minutes to relieve herself,
not wanted to interrupt what was to happen next.  She caught sight of her
flushed, excited face in the mirror.  "I can't believe you," she whispered
to herself.  "How do these things happen to you?"  With a rueful smile, she
turned away to join him.
        As she walked back into the living room,  she noticed that he'd pushed the
armchair and the sofa back against the walls.  Her padded ottoman "coffee
table" had been cleared off and a another silk shawl had been draped over
it.  It had been placed more center.  Cushions and quilts had been arranged
on the rug in front of the fire.  The faint odor of Japanese incense
caressed her.  She stepped in uncertainly, not sure what was expected.  Then
she felt his hand on her back.  She jumped a little.
        LaCroix smiled,  "Nervous?"
        She didn't answer, just looked down.  He chuckled.  He slowly drew one hand
around her and languidly brought it up between her legs, up her torso, up
her throat and lifted her chin.  "You don't have to prove your courage to
me, Natalie.  If I didn't value it, I wouldn't be here now."  He kissed her
shoulder, she made a soft sound.  "Put your arms behind your back."  He
commanded.
        She obeyed, trying not to shiver as he bound her wrists together.  A
long-ago lover had tied her once, why hadn't it caused her insides to quiver
then like it did now?  She was becoming aroused again.  The tail ends of the
silk scarf he used were soft and tickled against her bottom.  
        "Don't fight it, Natalie, you'll only hurt yourself."  He warned her,
though there was no need.  She knew better than to pull.  Silk scarves roll
up and tighten, if she struggled she might damage the tendons in her wrists.
So she kept her hands relaxed as he led her to the ottoman and sat her on
the edge.  Kneeling before her, he tied her ankles to the curved wooden
legs.  This spread open her thighs, but not uncomfortably so.  Maneuvering
her carefully, her vulva was close to the edge, allowing access.  She put
her hands down behind her for support and this arched her back.  She felt
dreadfully exposed.  A self-conscious blush crept across her face and breasts.
        He stood up and stroked her hair.  "Beautiful.  Yes, my dear, you are
quite, quite lovely."  Turning he went to the mantle and brought back a
small leather box.  He opened the lid, and she glimpsed the glitter of
jewels before it went out her field of vision.  He lifted her brush and
began to work with her unruly hair.
        Natalie found the feel of him brushing her hair indescribably sensual.  He
didn't pull or snag once.  He was gentle and through, carefully petting the
drying hair into place.   He swept it up off her neck.  Instead of clipping
it at the base of her skull like she always did he pulled it high into a
Psyche knot.  Reaching into his box, he pulled some pins free and put them
in.  Once her hair in position, he lifted out some combs and added them. 
        She'd tried to twist a little, to see what they looked like.  LaCroix
stopped her with a light tap on her nose.  "Not yet, my angel."
        Natalie noticed the pull in the muscles of her shoulders and arms as he was
slipping earrings in her ears.  It was slightly stressful, but not
unpleasant.   When he slipped the necklace around her throat, he kissed her
passionately.  She returned his kiss with a moan of arousal.  She closed her
eyes when his lips closed over her left nipple.  He kissed it twice and
began suckling it to hardness.  Her breath caught.  Lucien nipped a little,
and she moaned.  He pulled his mouth back and she felt a metal pinch.  Her
eyes flew open.
        Hanging on her left nipple was a gold tweezer clamp.  It pinched a little,
but it didn't really hurt.  Tiny teardrop stones of amber, dark blue and
freshwater pearl hung from it.  He stroked the underside of her breast
softly.  He smiled, but didn't speak.  His eyes danced with mischief at her.
Moving slightly, his lips teased her right nipple.  Within moments, it had a
matching adornment.  She wiggled slightly, and set the stones dancing.  
        Lucien stroked her belly, moving down.  "They hurt more coming off than
they do going on, because of the restored circulation.  But I think you'll
find the intensity - stimulating." 
        She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken, Oh, Do You Now?  She glanced down
at them again.  "They're pretty."
        "I had them made in Japan."  He knelt down between her legs and stroked her
vulva.  "Keep still, now."  
        It took all her willpower to stay motionless as his tongue found her clit.
He massaged and sucked carefully, until her clit was throbbing.  She gave a
gasp at the intensity of the pinch as he slid the clamp into place.  The
jewels sparkled against her soft folds and her pubic hair. 
        LaCroix rose with a sigh of pleasure.  He nodded and turned away, going to
a mirror on the wall.  He lifted it down and carried it over to her.  He
knelt in front her again, holding the glass so she could see herself.  
        Natalie stared at her reflection.  The jewels at her throat, in her hair
and in her  ears matched the gold, pearl, amber and blue of the clamps.
They glowed against her warm, flushed skin.  Her color was high with out
makeup, and her swollen mouth was soft and red.  Her upswept hair was soft
and sensual, rich chestnut that was highlighted with amber and gold.  Her
sapphire eyes matched the stones and were as bright.
        Who are you?  she thought, staring at this passion filled stranger.  Who
are you?
        "Beautiful, yes, angel.  They suit you... you should be covered with
jewels." His voice was a pleasant rumble.  He moved the mirror back, and
propped it against the bookcases.  She could still see herself, and now him.
A pale shadow, kneeling before her.  
          Lucien's lips found her nipple again.  He sucked gently at first, then
slowly increased the pressure.  The feeling was intense, her nipples were
almost painfully hard.  Natalie moaned and shivered, wanting to
simultaneously pull away and push harder against him.  She gasped in
pleasure/pain as he gave her a playful nip.  He kissed her hard and moved to
the other breast.  
        Soon, she was bending her elbows and arching against him.  If her hands had
been free she would have been clinging to him.  Lucien moved an arm around
her back, supporting her.  He flowed back and forth, from breast to breast
until they were throbbing.  When she was about to beg him to stop, it was
too much for her, he pulled back.  
        With his hands on her thighs, he adjusted her position.  "Lie back, my
angel.  No need to strain your arms."  Cool fingertips traced across her
belly as she obeyed, flattening her hands as she rested on the bonds. 
        The kisses on her labia were very light.  His tongue was like a cool
whisper across her burning sex.  Her clit was incredibly erect, vulnerably
exposed by the clamp.  The faint caress on it felt much more powerful.  She
gasped with need.  With a kiss on top of her pubis, he went to work. 
        It didn't take long before she was moaning wildly.  His tongue caressed her
the butterfly wings of her labia, opening them gently.  He moved, licking
carefully up one and down the other.  He teased the entrance to her vagina
and then slid his tongue in, thrusting it in and out, making her more wet.
Her legs strained against the bonds.  Lucien licked and nibbled upwards, the
beads of the clamp tickling.  His tongue rasped over her clit, massaging it.
Her clit throbbed against his tongue, aching for release.  He sucked it
lightly.  Her cunt felt like it was melting, wet and fiery.   He drank her
wetness, feasting on it as he had her blood.  The clamp exposed her clit,
yet desensitized it enough to keep her orgasm at bay.  She had never been so
harshly, sharply on the edge before.  He put a hand on her belly to keep her
still as she tried to raise herself to press harder against him.  
        The need for orgasm was soon consuming her.  His tongue lashed over her
clit.  She thought she might pass out if she couldn't come soon.  He sucked
her clit again.  Discarding pride, she begged him to release her. He ignored
her, continuing to worship her with his mouth.    Natalie was close to
tears.  "Please," she gasped.  "Please, Lucien.  I can't take any more,
please_"  With a final kiss, he released the clamp and it fell away.  He
sucked her clit lightly as the blood rushed back.
        She screamed as she came.  
        He rose over her abruptly as she thrashed with the intense sensations.  His
cool cock went deep inside her with one hard thrust.  Natalie could feel all
of him, her inside walls holding him tight with the grip of her orgasm.  His
chest hair rubbed against her hard, trapped nipples.  His groan of pleasure
filled her mind, as she rocked with her aftershocks.  For a moment, he was
motionless, absorbed.  Slowly, achingly slowly, he pulled back and with a
moan and thrust deep again.  And again. 
        With her arms and legs bound, Natalie couldn't wrap herself around him.
Her position didn't allow her to arch herself up, so she could only shift
herself slightly in time to his slow, deep thrusts. Unable to move, unable
to reach up to kiss, all she could do was receive.  She could feel her inner
walls opening to him, feel the head of his cock stroke her inside.  She was
drowning herself in the sensation of being fucked.  It was if her whole
being was concentrating into the hot wetness between her legs.  She was
whimpering, moaning, gasping, losing herself.  It was wonderful.  It was
glorious.
        She caught a glimpse of the vampire gold in his eyes.  He kissed her then,
punishingly hard, and then covered her eyes with his hand.  Natalie
whimpered, making a trapped animal noise, but didn't fight him.  Blinded,
suddenly the bounds felt tighter, his cock felt harder and deeper inside
her.  He thrust faster, feeling a new flood of wetness.  "Oh yes, you like
this.  Feel it all, Natalie."
        In her cocoon of darkness she was disoriented, unsure of where he stopped
and where she started.  She was a mass of sensations: heat, coolness,
tenseness, slickness, pain, numbness and pleasure, so much pleasure.  She
yielded to the feelings, surrendering herself to them. Rather than
overwhelming her; she opened more and more - reaching farther inside herself
than she had ever done before. 
        Lucien drove himself roughly inside her now, almost brutally.  The force of
his thrusts strained her against her bonds.  She made mewing cries of
pleasure and pain, but ground herself against him as much as she could.
She knew he was peaking, just as she was.   She felt a scratch under her
collarbone, over the little cut he'd made earlier.  She gasped at the sharp
pain and arched.  His other hand cupped her neck as his mouth closed over
the wound.  Her voice was ragged, torn out of her.  "Yes!  God, yes!  Feed
from me!  Take me!  Yes! Yes!"  And she was coming, over and over, as if
she'd never stop. He drank deeply, as if drinking the full force of her
orgasm.  Lucien jerked his head away and groaned out as if in pain.  With a
final deep thrust, he came.
        Lucien jerked away quickly, leaving her empty and blinking at the light.
Natalie lay still, trying to catch her ragged breath.  She was sweaty and
trembling.  Her legs quivered, her knees trying to fall together.  She
smelled blood.  Her shoulder was sticky with blood and saliva.  She closed
her eyes.  
        She didn't open them when she felt his hands on her, freeing  first one leg
and then the other.  He stroked her face and hair.  She opened her eyes and
smiled faintly at him.  "Hi."
        "Keep still." He said softly, and slipped off one of the clamps.
        Natalie drew her breath sharply in pain.  The nipple was flooded with
needles and pins.  He kissed it, letting his tongue massage it for a minute.
She tried to wriggle but he was prepared for that.  While she was distracted
by his kiss, he freed the other one.  This time she gave a small squeal.  He
shifted to the other nipple, ministering to it.  She moaned, liking it and
hating it at the same time. He gave each nipple a final kiss and leaned up
to feast on her mouth.  She could taste blood and her own wetness on him.
She licked the inside of his mouth and he stroked her hair in approval. 
        Slipping an arm under her shoulders, he lifted her so he could untie her
wrists.  She slid her arms around him and kissed him again, no resistance
now.  He lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the cushions and
quilts in front of the fire.  He lay her down gently, wrapping a quilt
around her.  Arms around her, he curled protectively around her body. 
        LaCroix spoke softly, his beautiful voice barely more than a whisper.   "My
mortal angel... innocent one...if you were mine, the things I could teach
you.  You could explore so many things..." He kissed her hair.  She laid her
hand on his arm, stroking with her thumb.  "I could teach you so much about
pleasure and pain.  Guide you down paths you'd never dared go before.  You
respond so beautifully, Natalie.  When you yield, it's like music."
        She gazed at the fire sleepily.  "What would you do?"
        "Hum?"  She'd taken him off guard.  He hadn't expected her to answer.
        "If I were yours..."  Her voice was barely audible.  Why?  What did it
matter?  She wasn't his, never would be his.  
        "If you were mine, yes, if you were mine.  Every time I would be with you,
I would let you yield a little more, go a little deeper.  Let you be bound a
little longer, let you feel a bit more pain.  Hold your pleasure off a
little more, then release it until you have no more control over it."  He
kissed her hair again.  "I'd feed you blood from my fingertips.  I'd use a
cane to mark your skin, so hours later you'd touch the marks and know you
were mine.  Massage my skin with your beautiful hair.  Cuff you to my bed
and use my tongue on you until you writhe and beg.  Cover you with jewels
and silks, dress you in things too exquisite for this time.  So many things..."
        His voice continued rolling warmly over her as she fell into a dreamless sleep.
        She awoke a few hours later, with him asleep and his arms still around her.
Turning to snuggle closer, she closed her eyes again.
        She opened her eyes and the fire had died.
        La Croix was gone.  Sydney was purring beside her.
        Natalie sat up and stretched.  She touched the empty place beside her and
hazily wondered if she could convince herself that it  had all been a dream.  
        Something fell over her hand in fold of the blanket.   The leather jewel
box fell open, spilling out its sparkling contents.  She reach up and
touched her ears and neck.  He must have taken them off while she was
asleep.  All the pieces were there; the necklace, the combs, the earring and
the erotic clamps.  A small folded note lay on top.  She opened it with care.

        They were made for you.
        Happy Birthday, my mortal Angel
                L

        She slipped the jewels back into the box.  Wrapping the quilt tightly
around her, she stared at it for a long, long time.

        finis.