Wednesday, March 15, 2017


Today, we go to the fourth and final part of “The Prescient,” a short story originally published in a Bold Strokes anthology called Erotica/Exotica, Tales of Sex, Magic, and the Supernatural, edited by Richard Labonte. In our last post, Tancready and Boris made a couple of trips to photograph points of interest, but Tancready became so inflamed, his aura alarmed Boris and drove him away. What happens now?

NOTE: Because this is a 7,700-word short story, I have been posting every two weeks. Now I will resume my regular blogging on the first of each month.
Courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

     Boris showed up Friday evening. Expecting such an event, I had not closed my gate against the world for the past few nights. I opened the door and expressed false surprise.
     “Tancready,” he said, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. “I came to apologize for the other night.”
     “That is kind of you, Boris. Won’t you put the incident from your mind and come in?”
     His internal struggle was obvious as he stepped over the sill. I snapped on a small, weak lamp for his convenience. “That’s the problem. I can’tforget about it.”
     “Because you are curious?” I suggested gently, releasing the tight rein I held on my energy. He nodded uncertainly as an orange tendril caressed his handsome face. “Have you had any experience with a man?” He shook his head, his torso now engulfed. “But you wonder what it would be like.” I made it a statement.
     “I don’t know. Maybe.” He licked his lips nervously. I recognized his urge to flee … and his inability. “How did the prints come out?”
     “Boris,” I said, releasing my sexual energy to go where it would. “Forget the prints, at least for the moment. This needs to be dealt with.”
     “H…how?” he stammered, even as he reluctantly submitted to my will and slowly approached. “Damn, Tancready! What am I doing? What are we doing? Why can’t I stop myself? Why—”
     I cut off his words with a kiss. He resisted momentarily, and then surrendered those rosy lips. His reluctant tongue entwined with mine. With that kiss, I fed my pranic energy, indulging my long-suppressed desire for this young Leandro.
     I took a moment to drink in his masculinity. The boy’s curly hair had a fetching, careless look, flowing down into sideburns that ended in a point, like a child’s that had never felt the bite of a razor. Huge, magnetic eyes; wide, expressive mouth; skin without blemish and glowing with health and the vitality of youth dominated his features.
     He stood rooted to the spot as I slowly removed his shirt. With wry amusement, I noted a thin chain around his neck, a tiny gold cross he had instinctively worn as protection. I concluded that perhaps he was consciously or unconsciously edging toward an understanding of the situation. When I touched the small Christian symbol without alarm, his defenses shattered.
     I stroked the broad shoulders and ran my hands across his smooth hairless chest. Gently drawing him into my arms, I smoothed his horripilated flesh with my palms. His belly fluttered from excitement or fear; probably a bit of both. I traced the vee of his back to his belt line. Holding him helpless in my aura, I freed him of his clothing. The sight of his naked loins deprived me of the last of my control. He was as perfect as I had imagined, masculine, physically powerful, yet totally vulnerable; frightened of a carnal encounter with a man, yet anticipating it. His psychic energy flared with every color in the spectrum. Fear, loathing, desire, anticipation, disgust, lust. Wild with my need, I lifted his long, uncircumcised cock, which was already filling with blood. I skinned back his foreskin and tasted his throbbing flesh.
     Boris writhed at my hot touch on his cool flesh, doing battle with his carnal desire and his panic. Each was an aphrodisiac to me. When his time neared, he lost the will to resist and moved his hips, slowly at first and then with all the power of those sturdy thighs. He placed a hand behind my head and threw his erection into me. Then, abruptly, he came and gifted me with great gouts of his essence. It was as potent as I knew it would be. My energy level soared! My strength surged! My awareness became so hyper it was almost unendurable. I shared the ecstasy of his ejaculation, knowing he had experienced what few ever achieve…the love of a Vampire.
     He lay exhausted on the thick carpet while I rested my head on his breast, glorying in his soft breath against my cheek. Rising to his side, I explored his features to fully understand the beauty of this extraordinary young man. I covered him with the cloak of my love, the aura of my friendship, the whole of my devotion!
     A mistake! Too much, too soon. He scrambled to his feet and, without pausing to dress, clutched his clothes to his breast and ran naked to his Jeep. Sated and overloaded with energy, I turned sullen and morose.
     As before, the boy kept his distance for a few days before appearing unannounced on my doorstep. Neither of us spoke when I opened the door. Faint bruises beneath his eyes bespoke of hours of worry and lost sleep. His aura was wild, fretful, fearful. Yet, he was here. He moved into my living room and turned on me accusingly.
     “What have you done to me? What is this hold you have over me? It…it’s ungodly! Why don’t you leave me alone?”
     “Is that what you wish?” I asked quietly.
     He fought and lost his battle standing in the middle of a darkened room in my home. “No!” he moaned, clutching me to his breast and kissing me with a passion that took me by surprise.
     Ripping off his clothing, Boris took my head in his strong hands to guide me down his smooth torso. I followed his lead, and soon he was feeding my energy with magnificent, hungry cock.
     “God! It’s as good as the first time!” he gasped in dismay as his flesh bruised the depths of my throat. Young Boris’s manly flesh filled me to capacity. “Who…are you? How do you make me do these things?
     I paused to answer. “I make you do nothing you do not already crave.”
     “No. Yes. No! Please … don’t stop.” A moment later, his hard tool swelled in my mouth as his cum shot through it. He staggered backwards, and I saw his eyes widen with the shock of understanding. “You’re going to make me do it to you, aren’t you? You’re going to make me fuck you?” He gave me no time to reply. “Are you going to do it to me, too?”
     I flinched at the anguish in that question. “Only when you want me to, Boris. And you will … eventually.”
     “Who are you?” he cried. Are you who I think you are?”
     “And who is that?”
     “One of those creatures Grandpa Balint used to talk about.” His moved away from me, his dilated eyes full of doubt. “That can’t be! Those are nothing but old wives’ tales. Folklore. Oh, Lord,” he exclaimed, pacing restlessly around the darkened room, oblivious to his naked beauty. “What am I saying? This is the twenty-first century. This is the good old US of A. I … I’m a modern guy.” He halted and indulged in a sour grimace, which turned him absolutely fetching. “I’m just all messed up over getting it on with a guy. That’s all; that’s all it is.”
     “Do your sexual regrets usually span days?” I asked quietly.
     “No, but this was with a man!”
     “Boris, at a guess, I’d say that half the male student body at the university has had an experience with another male, and they do not appear so agitated.”
     “Yeah, but…but I came back for seconds.” He resumed pacing again. “Something’s not right. I gotta figure this out. Gimme my prints, Tancready. I’m not coming back. Not ever!”
     I gave him a doleful smile and handed over an envelope from the coffee table. “Yes, you will. Here are your film and the prints. But be warned. Every time you view them, you will remember this magnificent experience.”
     “Never!” he breathed, and once again headed out the door naked.
     “You are welcome in my home any time, Boris Balint.” I sent a tentacle toward him and viciously drew on his energy. He reeled against the doorframe and stumbled outside.
     He was back within a fortnight, wild, disheveled, and at the edge of his sanity. As I opened the door, shading my sight against the sudden light, he pushed his way inside. Immediately, he turned fretful.
     “Why am I here? I’ve got no control anymore, Tancready. My life’s gone to hell in a hand basket. I broke up with my girl. My grades have taken a nosedive. I can’t sleep. Eat. Do anything. And it’s all your fault!”
     He stopped directly in front of me, his eyes flickering as his suspicions fell into place. “You’re one of them. A Vampire! God, I can’t believe I’m saying it out loud! But nothing else makes sense! How you make me do what I don’t want to do! How you got me to talk to you in the first place even though I knew I shouldn’t.” That sent a look of surprise across his handsome face. “How did I even know it was wrong to talk to you?”
     “You are a Prescient,” I replied. “A human who is sensitive to Eternals.”
     “Eternals,” he laughed harshly. “Vampires, you mean. That explains so much. You can’t stand the light; you wear those damned shades all the time. You live in the dark! But…” he hesitated. “I thought you burned to a crisp in sunlight.”
     “False folklore,” I scoffed. “I have difficulty, but I can function by day.”
     “That’s why you cover up with clothing,” he seized on the point. “And another thing … I drove like a madman the other night, but you beat me back to the campus. I sensed you. How did you get there so fast?”
     “I have other means of travel,” I answered vaguely. I saw his look. “No, I do not fly around like a bat.” I stroked his smooth cheek; he looked panicked but suffered my touch.
     “Maybe not, but you can see in the dark like one, pick a flying insect out of the air with your radar. And you feed off people, Tancready. I’ve seen it! You draw from them…drain them. You’ve done it to me.”
     “Yes,” I admitted. “I feed my energy by drawing from others. But I always sought to spare you, Boris. Your power is your cum, your seed.” I rubbed my thumb across his mouth.
     His eyes became saucers, and his aura flared. He feebly batted my hand away. “I’m a fucking meal to you?”
     “What I take from you, I am willing to give to you.” I parted his lips with my finger, raked a nail over his teeth.
     He struggled a moment, and then his broad shoulders slumped. He licked the end of my finger. “You want me to blow you, don’t you?” The spirit was gone from his voice.
     “Yes, I want you to taste me, as I have tasted you. I want to imbue you with my power.”
     Tremulously, he opened the robe I wore and ran his hands down my chest. “I didn’t know Vampires were handsome, like men,” he mumbled, moving to lick my sternum. His moist lips were electrifying; his touch set off sparks. I was so swollen I thought it might burst. He was awkward and inexperienced, but ultimately quite successful. Afterward, I knelt to embrace him, cooing in his ear as he fought his emotions.
     “Giving pleasure, begets pleasure,” I philosophized inanely.
     The boy rose to his full height, every inch a man. “I can’t believe it! You made me do it!” Alarm flooded his halo. “Will I be all right?”
     “You will be fine. As much as I would like you to stay the night, my beautiful Boris, I think you should return to your dorm. Try not to fret. Get some rest, and return to me this weekend. There is much for me to teach you.”
     He dropped his head into his hands for a moment and then looked at me again. “You want us to do it, don’t you? I mean really do it! You’re going to make me fuck you! And you’re going to do it to me!” His hand suddenly went to his neck. “You want my blood, too, don’t you?”
     I responded quietly. “You must trust me not to harm you.”
     “Trust you?” he demanded. “Yeah, Tancready. First, you take away my power to resist. Then we do this. Now you want my fucking blood! Will it turn me into…a creature like you?”
     I shook my head slowly. “No, that is another lie told over the generations.” I brushed his hand away and fingered the pulsing vein in his throat. He shuddered. “Go now, Boris, with the certain knowledge that I love you beyond all things. And when you return, you will understand my meaning.”
     I was sated when he left me and had no need to prowl for partners, willing or unwilling. Nonetheless, I went to the campus to see that he arrived safely. As he entered the dormitory, I could tell my handsome young Prescient was aware that I hovered near.
     When he arrived Saturday night, Boris seemed resigned, albeit nervous and agitated, even though the marks of distress had disappeared from his handsome features. The big, soulful eyes were clear again. He had accepted his fate, perhaps even worked up some enthusiasm over the experience I promised.
     “Do we have to do this?” he asked quietly.
     “We must, Boris, in order to fully express our mutual love.”
     He walked into the room and stripped, taking the unconscious stance of an ancient Greek marble, hip sprung, a jacket clutched in his right hand. This night, I led him into my bedroom and observed his curious examination of the dreaded Vampire’s den. Feigning unconcern, he tossed his jacket on the bed and fell on his back across the mattress, waiting expectantly as I shrugged out of my clothing. I draped myself over his long frame, my groin kissing his. His body was warm beneath mine. His chest heaved against my breast in excitement and nervousness.
     He opened his mouth to accept my kiss and entwined his tongue with mine. It had been five hundred years since I felt a kiss like this one…with a husky young Bulgur cavalryman, as I recall. I expected Boris to be timid, inexperienced, but twisted his body so that he was atop me. I fingered his cock, and it rose expectantly. He got between my legs, and I opened to him. Once mounted, he grew in confidence, thrusting boldly, rutting so vigorously that I feared he would injure himself. Then I let go of my worry and wholly engaged myself in this magnificent act of love.
     Cataclysmic I had promised, and cataclysmic it was. His orgasm sent his aura soaring, creating new colors, brighter hues! He shuddered above me as if in the grip of a cerebral stroke. When it was finally over, he loomed above me, ecstasy slowly fading from his countenance. He opened his tortured eyes.
     “You will find it difficult to match the power of what you just experienced,” I boasted. “And it was more awesome because of our love.”
     He was silent while absorbing this. “Do you really love me? If you do, you won’t do this to me. Don’t fuck me, Tancready,” he begged.
     “It is the only way to consummate our love. You are the object of my intellectual desire, my spiritual desire, my carnal desire. You are as close to perfect as I shall ever find, and I must experience you every way possible,” I babbled, my vortex rising, my aura probing him with increasingly red tentacles. My energy level peaked and absorbed his vibrations.
     His handsome countenance took on a look of quiet desperation. “If we can leave it this way, I’ll come back to you. As many times as you want. But don’t fuck me, all right? Please!”
     “I will not enter your body unless you agree to it,” I said quietly.
     “That doesn’t mean anything,” he reasoned aloud. “I won’t be able to help myself, will I?” Abruptly, he leaned forward so that our noses almost touched. “Why, Tancready? Why me?”
     “Boris, I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you in Zimmerman Library the semester you first arrived.”
     He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were filled with tears. They ran down his face. A look of utter anguish crossed his handsome face. “And you’re going to take my blood afterward. I won’t be able to deny you anything, will I?”
     “You will suffer no harm, I promise. But only then will we truly be one,” I answered carelessly, reaching to caress a cheek still damp with his tears.
     “Then so be it,” he whispered. Sighing deeply, he fumbled with his jacket at my shoulder and then straightened his torso above me. My aura flaring in sudden alarm, I was aware of several things at once. He grew rampant inside me. His strong, corded arms rose, revealing clumps of dark, damp hair deep in his armpits. The muscles in his upper chest rolled. I glimpsed the sharpened tent peg in his hands. Fear and total devastation twisted his features.
     “I’m so sorry, Tancready,” he moaned from the depths of his soul. The dark magenta of loss and despair swept his halo as he brought down those powerful arms in a mighty blow.

Wow! A wooden stake to the heart. Has Boris Balint put an end to a vampire who has lived a thousand years? Well, at least Tancready learned Boris was a prescient… the hunter kind.

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Thanks for being a reader.

The next blog to be back on our usual schedule of the first day of the month at 6:00 a.m.

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