Initiation

Title - INITIATION
Author - Rina76
Email - rina762003@hotmail.com
Summary - This is a slash fic based on The Lost Boys, that crazy sexy cool 80’s vampire movie,
and one of my fav flicks of all time. Michael gets initiated into the fang gang.
Warning - Graphic violence and sex, incest (sort of), non-consentual (kinda)
Disclaimer - Warner Bros own these characters, I just like to play with them

***

Michael Emerson stumbled into the gang’s secret clubhouse, the old hotel that had collapsed into the earth in 1906 and was now practically a big cave. He hardly remembered how he got here. It felt like he had floated all the way back but that couldn’t possibly be true. He was still reeling over the idiotic stunt they’d pulled earlier on the bridge as the train rumbled overhead. Through the drugged haze in his mind he vaguely recalled hearing the guys calling out to him and letting go of the iron beam, almost pissing himself with fright, but after that it was a white blur. How did he survive the fall? Was there water or a big pif haf hay underneath the bridge?

He groaned as a tidal wave of dizziness swept through him and he fell over onto the dirt floor. He absently hoped the new leather jacket he’d bought on the boardwalk wasn’t scuffed up already. Strong hands slipped under his arms, around his chest, and helped him stand. He groggily peered up and found one of his new friends grinning at him. Paul, the tall surfer-looking dude with grey-blue eyes, wavy blonde hair that reached past his shoulder blades and sharp, high cheekbones that belonged on a female model. He was wearing white pants, motorcycle boots, a mesh black singlet and long coat.

“Damn. You are so ripped, Michael,” Paul informed the newcomer gleefully.

“Tell me about it,” Michael mumbled, dusting off his now filthy jeans. “What the hell was in that wine?”

Paul shrugged easily. “Who knows? Just enjoy the trip, man.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a joint, lit it, had a few tokes and offered to Michael who shook his head, his brunette curls tumbling around his face.

“I think I’m pretty screwed already, Paul. But thanks.”

“I’ll have his share.”

Dwayne materialised beside them and plucked the pot out of Paul’s hand. Dwayne was a Native American. You could see that just by looking at him. Michael had to admit he was a handsome bastard. His skin was bronzed, his sultry eyes dark brown- almost black, his lips wide, sensual and soft and his hair like a curtain of ebony satin falling down his back. A tooth from some meat-eating mammal hung from his left earlobe and a necklace of leather, bone and feathers encircled his throat. He dragged on the marijuana cigarette, inhaled deeply, held his breath for a few moments and let it out saying, “Good shit.”

The sound of punk rock suddenly blasted into the air as Marko switched on the stereo. He tossed some more fuel on the fires crackling away in the few old oil drums on the ground, the main source of light for their underground home.

Dwayne gazed at Michael, noticing the spacey glaze in his expression. “So, what do you think of bridge hopping, Michael? Cool, hey?”

A lopsided smile lifted the edges of Michael’s full lips and he looked at the two guys in front of him with long-lashed bright blue eyes. “You guys are completely insane, you know that? We coulda been killed.”

Dwayne grinned, displaying perfect white teeth in his tanned face. “Nah. We do that all the time. You should see some of the other things we do for kicks. It’ll blow your fuckin’ mind.” He and Paul smiled at each other as if they had a secret.

“Exactly how did we manage to get to the ground without breaking our necks?” Michael asked, scratching his head in bewilderment. Dwayne and Paul exchanged a glance. At that moment Marko came up and slung his arm around Michael’s shoulders and saved the other two from answering that puzzling question. Marko was smaller than the other guys, wiry and pixie-faced with these big, round eyes, long curly golden hair and mischievous smile. His cherubic appearance disguised the fact that he was a cold-blooded murderer, just like the rest of them.

“Hey, Michael. David wanted me to tell you that before you become a fully fledged member of our little family, you gotta go through a rite of passage,” Marko announced with relish.

Michael stared at him wondering what he meant. Hadn’t they already freaked him out enough? First of all, David had nearly made him ride his motorcycle off a sheer cliff, then the wriggling, slithering Chinese food, then the train thing. What else were they planning to do? Make him swim through an alligator infested swamp?

“Are you game?” Marko dared, raising his brows. He was wearing a pair of black gloves with the fingers cut off.

“Yeah, boy. You game?” Paul echoed and Dwayne quirked his lips at Michael.

Michael lifted his chin, feeling like he could conquer anything now that he’d hung off a bridge with a huge locomotive rolling over the top of him and lived to tell the tale.

“Sure. What do I gotta do?”

Marko pointed to the canopy of sheer, shimmery material that enclosed Star’s bed.

“Your first challenge is in there.” He didn’t give any more information.

As Michael confidently strode in that direction, endeavouring not to trip over his own feet, he heard the three males chanting his name, soft at first then gradually building up volume.

“Michael. Michael. Michael. Michael…” A loud war cry delivered by Dwayne echoed through the cavern and Paul yelled, “Go Michael! You rock, dude!”

“Yeah,” Marko shouted out. “You da man!”

Michael grinned at the enthusiastic encouragement, thinking that whatever was behind those billowing sheets couldn’t be anything too difficult to handle. It was probably something like a mammoth tarantula or a snake he had to pick up with his bare hands. He could do that. He wasn’t a complete pussy.

What he saw in there when he parted the curtains was rather unexpected and he stopped short, unable to believe his eyes. “Star?” he whispered. He thought she wasn’t here, that David had sent her and Laddie somewhere so they wouldn’t get in their way as they did the male-bonding thing.

But there she was. She was sitting on the mattress, surrounded by spongy pillows and cushions, a gorgeous, almond-eyed, red-lipped svelte creature with a fringed scarf draped around her petite frame. The long corkscrew spirals of her brunette hair spilled over her bare shoulders and down her back in a luxurious mass. There were lit candles all around her bed. She uncurled her legs and gracefully stood up, beckoning to him, rings bejewelling her delicate fingers and charm bracelets encircling her wrists.

“Come here,” she said softly. His feet moved towards her of their own volition, caught in her enchanting spell. She stroked his arm and he felt her touch scorch his skin. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

Michael nodded, tongue-tied. She was a living goddess.

“Do you want me, Michael?” Her voice was like silk and her fingers inched up to his chest, feeling the hard ridges of muscle under his t-shirt. Her bracelets tinkled like little bells.

Michael found his vocabulary and croaked, “Yes.”

She gazed into his eyes and breathed, “Then kiss me.”

He began to incline his head and stopped, frowning. “David…”

“Do you see David anywhere?” Star interrupted.

Michael glanced around. “No, but…”

“Then just do it,” she insisted. Michael didn’t have to be told twice. He took Star’s willowy figure in his arms and captured her succulent mouth, something he’d been dying to do ever since he’d first seen her dancing in the crowd like a siren at that concert on the beach. As they kissed, she fingered the copper coin earring she’d put in Michael’s lobe earlier, as she promised him she would. She lied when she said it wouldn’t hurt but Michael, being all macho and brave, hadn’t even winced as she pushed the red-hot needle through his earlobe.

Without even knowing what he was doing, Michael lowered them both to the bed, Star’s lithe form underneath him. He grew instantly hard as he felt her tongue twining with his and her hands grabbing his ass through his jeans. He groaned as he was filled with the most blazing passion he’d ever felt for anyone in his life.

Outside, knowing what was going on in there, and feeling extraordinarily raunchy himself, Dwayne declared, “God, I wish Laddie was here.”

He was always taking that long-haired street urchin for rides on the back of his bike and acted like his cool big brother. Paul was the only one who knew that his interest in the boy was anything but paternal.

Paul made an incredulous face, his grey-blue eyes wide. “Are you mad? Do you have a death wish? If you so much as touch Laddie, he’ll tell Star – who happens to adore that brat- Star will tell David and David will rip your redskin throat right out if you upset his girl! Don’t even think about it, dude.”

“Looks like thinking about it is all I can do. For now.” Dwayne smiled evilly, flashing fang and a glimmer of yellow eyes. “But Star won’t always be there to protect him.”

Even though he was a blood-sucking killer and far from saintly himself, Paul muttered, “He’s a ten-year old kid. You’re so twisted, man. Even for a vamp.”

Dwayne flipped him off. “Fuck you, Paul. Gimmie more of that.” He indicated to the weed held between Paul’s long fingers.

The undead blond dragged on the hand-rolled joint, exhaled a plume of grey smoke into the air and then passed it to Dwayne. Paul gazed at the good-looking Indian as he sucked on the stub with his velvety lips, the black prickle of stubble starting to grow on his brown chiselled jaw.

“If you play your cards right, Dwayne, I might just let you.” Paul winked and walked away leaving his friend coughing and spluttering at the innuendo.

As Michael kissed Star, drowning in his need for her luscious feminine charms, he slowly discerned that something was wrong with the situation. Very wrong. Her body was uncomfortably hard under him, her chin was scratchy and her flowery perfume changed into something distinctly like smoke and motorcycle grease. He pulled back and recoiled with a choked sound of terror. The hard-faced platinum blond leader of the pack was lying beneath him, not Star.

Oh God. He’d actually been kissing David! He scrambled backward, desperate to get away and David’s gloved hand shot out, fast as lightning and wrapped around his neck. In a flash, Michael was the one on his back and David’s heavy weight was straddling him, his fingers cutting off Michael’s air supply. David stared down at him with hostile ice-blue eyes, his white-blond hair spiky on the top and long at the back. A long, silvery earring tickled his whiskered jawline. He was clad in black and the dark colour made his skin seem as pale as chalk. Michael made a strangled noise and attempted unsuccessfully to pry the other male’s hand off. David laughed mockingly and coldly, the harsh sound echoing throughout the underground, torch-lit cavern.

“What, did you think I’d actually let you have Star?” he derided. “I know you’ve got a massive hard-on for her but she’s mine, Michael, and don’t you forget it.” His menacing voice was dangerous and low.

Just then, Marko and Paul entered the canopy as if David had summoned them with his mind. Michael was not only doped up and sluggish but precariously close to passing out for lack of oxygen and was totally defenceless as Paul crouched behind him, pulled both of Michael’s hands above his head and held them there. Marko locked Michael’s feet together and knelt on his shins, preventing him from being able to move.

David squeezed Michael’s throat threateningly one more time and let him go. As he rose he said to the others, “He’s all yours, boys. Enjoy.” Then he left them to it.

Michael dragged in gulps of sweet, precious air, fighting to catch his breath, his chest heaving. “What the hell is going on?” he rasped, spinning out big time. Both Marko and Paul were smiling at him, small, ruthless smiles as if he was a fly and they were ripping his wings off just for fun.

“What’s going on, Paul?” Marko joked, this banter being something they seemed to do often.

“I dunno, what’s going on, Marko?” Paul rebounded with a grin.

“You are being initiated, Michael,” Marko finally filled him in.

“But…what the…how did he...?” Michael arched his neck back to see what Paul had to say and saw his upside down face framed with long wavy flaxen locks. Michael’s perplexity appeared humorous to him.

“I’ll tell ya later,” Paul promised. “You better get ready for your next trial, ‘cos here it is, dude.”

Michael turned his head and frowned in confusion when he saw who was kneeling beside him. “Sam? What…what are doing here?”

His little brother smiled breezily at him. “I’m joining the gang too, bro. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

“No!” Michael gaped at the skinny kid with short feathery blond hair. “No, it isn’t! You shouldn’t be here. Go home before Mom starts to freak and-” He broke off as a teenage hand slipped along his thigh and came to rest on his groin. He realised he was still fully erect from kissing Star/David.

“Sam? Sammy?” Michael whispered in alarm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

With his forefinger, Sam traced the bulge in his jeans and Michael willed himself to go soft but it wasn’t working. The boy’s blue eyes were teasing and flirtatious.

“You know exactly what I’m doing, Mike.”

Shocked and grossed out, Michael wanted to push Sam away but Paul was tightly holding his wrists above his head and Marko was securely pinning his legs to the mattress. He struggled against both of the long-haired guys’ vice-like grips but to no avail.

“Let me go, you bastards,” he cried in panic, tilting his head back to implore the tall blond male who was looking down on him in titillated amusement.

Paul chuckled. “Nuh uh.”

“Don’t. Sammy, don’t,” Michael whimpered, as he beheld the child unzipping his fly. “You’re my brother! Stop it!”

Sam just opened the front of his pants and wrapped his slender fingers around Michael’s cock, which was refusing to go down, even in the midst of his utter paralysing horror. Marko was watching his inner turmoil, his elf-like face lit up with an entertained expression.

“Aw, c’mon,” Sam chided. “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about this, Mike. Brotherly love. I bet you’ve wondered what it would be like. I mean, look at me. I’m so young and tender and innocent.”

He batted his lashes and ran his tongue over his candy-pink lips, leaving them glinting and shiny, gazing at Michael in a blatantly lewd way that an adolescent boy like him should not even be thinking about. Freckles were dotted across his smooth cheeks and upturned button nose and a diamond stud twinkled in his left earlobe.

“No! I haven’t!” Michael denied, frantically shaking his head. “I’ve never thought about you like that. It’s…it’s wrong!”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to touch me, Mike?” Sam continued huskily, caressing the older male’s rock-solid shaft with a small hand. “Admit it. Haven’t you wanted to feel my supple firm body, kiss my baby-soft lips or take my sweet little ass? Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamt about fucking your cute kid brother.”

Michael bit back a groan as Sam’s fingers caused unwanted ripples of desire to wash through his belly. “God no,” he muttered. “I haven’t. I haven’t...”

Sam smiled at him, a tiny, wicked smile. “Liar.”

He bent his head and Michael gasped as he felt the warm wetness of Sam’s mouth around his dick. He wildly tugged at Paul’s hands and tried to kick Marko off his legs but couldn’t get loose.

“Give in Michael,” Marko said softly. “You can’t get away. Just let him.”

“Don’t, Sammy, please,” he pleaded, torn between the all-consuming eroticism of being blown and a deep putrid disgust that he was actually obtaining pleasure from the act. He looked down and saw his younger sibling sucking him off, the fingers of one hand curled around the base of his penis and his eyes shut, his lashes fanning on his peachy cheeks. The sight was incestuous, obscene and an incredible turn on all at once.

“Don’t…Please…Stop, Sam,” he moaned helplessly as a hot little tongue circled around the tip of his prick, bringing him perilously close to orgasm. “Oh Christ…”

He dug his nails hard into his palms and bit his lip, hoping that the pain would hold him back but it only seemed to intensify the sensation of moist, swirling ecstasy centring around Sam’s greedy, tantalising mouth. He felt Paul licking at the bloody crescent-shaped cuts on his palms and a cold shudder of both repugnance and dark lust ran down his spinal column.

“Oh Jesus, no,” he gritted out he came against his own will in his little brother’s mouth. “No, Sammy, no, noo…”

Sam looked directly up at Michael’s white, stricken face with satisfaction as he swallowed the salty gushes of semen. Completely mortified and sickened by what had just taken place, Michael shut his eyes tight and begged himself to wake up from this awful nightmare. But he didn’t wake up. He felt burning tears of shame spill out from under his closed eyelids and run down his cheeks.

“Oh Sam, what have I done?” he whispered in crushing guilt. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

He heard cruel, unsympathetic laughter and opened his eyes to find Paul and Marko nearly doubled over in mirth. Dwayne was kneeling in the very same spot that Sam had been, a tanned devil in black jeans and an open leather jacket. He licked his lips and drawled, “Don’t worry, Mikey. Sam’s not here. It was only me.”

Realising they were using their illusions on him again, just like David masquerading as Star and the maggots and worms that were really rice and noodles, he bucked against the combined restraining grasps of Paul and Marko and growled with white-hot fury. He didn’t know how they were doing it, making him see things that weren’t real, but it was pissing him off greatly.

“Motherfuckers! I hate you! I hate you all,” he raged, wanting nothing more at that moment than to strangle them for what they’d just put him through. “I’m gonna fucking kill you cunts!”

Again, he pulled and jerked his limbs, using all of his gym-honed, hardened muscles but his exertion was ineffectual against preternatural strength and just left him sweating and panting.

“Chill out, Michael,” Paul said above him persuasively. “It’s just a test, part of your initiation. If you can handle what we do to you, you earn our never-ending respect and loyalty, man. Don’t you want that, huh? Don’t you want to be one of us?”

Michael scowled with hatred at the three young men who held him prisoner.

“’Cos we want you to be one of us,” Marko joined in. “And we don’t offer this to just anyone, you know. You’re very lucky, Michael, and you’d be a fool to walk away now. You’ve come so far already, dude.”

“Are you in or are you out?” Paul asked. They weren’t making fun of Michael anymore and were just gazing at him expectantly. Marko and Paul wore dangly earrings in their left lobes as well and the jewellery winked in the candlelight.

Forcing himself to settle down and breathe, Michael considered the question. He’d only just moved here, he didn’t know anyone else in Santa Carla and he desperately wanted to belong. Despite wanting to decapitate the boys at that moment for what they’d done, he did want to be part of a fun, rebellious, close-knit group like this. Plus, if he became one of the gang, he could get to see Star. She was the reason he was here, after all. And he was determined to steal her away from that prick David.

“Fine,” he conceded angrily. “I’ll pass your goddamn tests. Now lemme go, assholes.”

Marko and Paul cautiously released him and he rubbed his abraded wrists. Now that he was free at last, he lashed out and managed to land a punch on that cock-sucking Indian, knocking him sideways, before Paul and Marko jumped on him and held him down again.

“That was a very stupid idea,” Marko grunted, using the full gravity of his weight to restrain the young man who was spitting and snarling like a wildcat. Michael swore and cursed and whipped around with all his might but they had him pinned like a butterfly in a display case.

“Fuck you, Dwayne,” he snapped, curling his upper lip like a wolf. “Fuck you for what you did, using Sammy’s image like that, you son of a bitch!”

Dwayne swivelled his head back to him and for a second Michael swore his eyes turned a spooky glowing yellow. He blinked and then the other guy’s irises were now dark and glittering like black diamonds and he concluded his brain was playing tricks on him due to the unknown narcotic substance he’d swilled an hour ago.

There was a line of blood trickling from the corner of Dwayne’s mouth and he crawled beside Michael, grasped his chin with long, brown fingers and made the captive meet his glare. “Look what you did, you slut. Lick it off,” he commanded.

Michael spat at him and got the other guy’s cheek. Dwayne narrowed his eyes and belted Michael hard across the face with the back of his hand, the noise sharp in the dank air of the enormous chamber.

“Bad, bad puppy,” Dwayne reprimanded, his tone saturated with withheld violence. “Clean your mess up. Now.”

“Go. To. Hell,” Michael said deliberately, glowering at the raven-haired man defiantly, the side of his face still smarting from the slap.

“Uh, Michael,” Marko began hesitantly. “You better do what he says, man. You don’t want to see the Chief when he’s really angry.”

“Piss off.”

Michael’s stubborn non-compliance made Dwayne shrug and reach into his jacket. He retrieved a switchblade, flicked it open and pressed the cold metal blade against Michael’s neck, just under his jawline. Michael’s eyes went wide and he inhaled quickly throuis tis teeth.

“Are you gonna lick it off, bitch, or do I have to slit your throat?” Dwayne murmured calmly, as if he did this sort of thing all the time.

Michael suddenly knew with absolute certainty that the second male wasn’t bluffing and icicles of fear prickled along the back of his neck. He gulped and whispered, “Okay, okay. Don’t cut me. Please.”

Paul and Marko watched as Michael tentatively and reluctantly licked the blood and spit off Dwayne’s face. They smiled with perverse pleasure as the mortal unwittingly tasted a vampire’s blood for the second time that evening. First David’s, mixed with the wine, now Dwayne’s. By the end of the night they would make him taste all of them.

“Good boy,” Dwayne said patronisingly, patting the top of Michael’s head like he was a dog. “Now, you are going to lay there like a punk and let us do whatever we want to you. If you don’t, we will kill you. There’s three of us and only one of you and you have no chance of escape. Understand?”

Thinking they were taking the hazing ritual to an extreme level, Michael gulped again and nodded. This role-play was becoming all too realistic. He was actually scared now.

Dwayne arched a black brow at the curly-haired male lying on his back. “You know, Mikey, if you stop fighting us, you may even like it.”

Michael wanted to tell Dwayne to stop calling him Mikey but with a knife still aimed at his jugular, wisely decided against it and bit his lower lip. Dwayne stroked Michael’s cheek with his free hand and gazed at him, seemingly not pissed anymore at being hit and spat on.

“Damn, you have a nice mouth for a guy,” Dwayne remarked and bent down to slant his lips over the other boy’s. Michael stiffened in surprise and abhorrence.

“Kiss him back, Michael,” Paul instructed gently but firmly. “We don’t want to have to hurt you.” He yanked Michael’s arms back further to what was turning into a painful angle and Michael grudgingly opened for Dwayne.

Under threat of having his throat cut, he was forced to return the other male’s kiss, if you could call it that. Kiss was too mild a word for how Dwayne was taking and invading his mouth with deep, rough thrusts of his tongue. It almost felt as though he was being raped. Dwayne tasted like blood, coppery and metallic and under that, the faint lingering bitterness of Michael’s own cum. He was amazed at how he was able to do this unnatural, vile act without puking his guts out. He was able to do this because of one, undeniable fact.

Michael was unfathomably, thunderously wasted.

It was as if his head was stuffed full of soggy cottonwool, his veins were flowing with rocket fuel and his heart was a mechanical pump, pounding triple-time in his chest and sending liquid euphoria coursing though every cell and vessel in his body.

And, holy Mary mother of God, he’d never been so uncontrollably horny in his life. He’d orgasmed less than two minutes ago and here he was growing stiff again. It was the very last thing in the world he wanted to happen but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop the rush of blood to his groin. Whatever had been added to that wine appeared to be extremely potent and contained large amounts of aphrodisiac properties. That must be the reason why he shot his load even though he believed it was Sammy blowing him. That must be the reason why he was starting to get off on kissing another dude. Yeah, it had to be the wine.

It fucking had to be!

He shut his eyes and whimpered into Dwayne’s hot, wet mouth as he felt the other male’s fist close around his cock and begin to jack him, slowly and sensually. The sadistic fucker knew how much he was affecting Michael, knew much he was disturbing and arousing him. The long-haired guy’s tongue snaked around Michael’s in a possessive, demanding way so unlike a girl. Fear, adrenaline and drugs had merged together to make him immensely excited by what was being done to him. He was outnumbered and totally powerless, his arms and legs bound by two pairs of unshakeable hands and the Indian’s sinewy form leaning heavily across him.

Michael was so glad Star wasn’t here to watch him being thoroughly humiliated and emasculated. He would have died if she saw this, saw him being held down, taunted and used like a two-dollar prostitute. And, much to his disgrace, enjoying it.

He went weak and malleable and surrendered to the heady, glowing flame of need that Dwayne was igniting in him with his plundering tongue and kneading fingers. He could feel the Native American’s erection jabbing into his hip and found himself strangely pleased that he was the cause of it. He kissed the other man back with a rapidly rising appetite, too smashed to rationalise why his heterosexuality was turning traitor on him, even with the point of a switchblade digging into the skin of his neck.

It all just felt too good to stop.

Warm gusts of air blew across the side of Michael’s face as Dwayne moved his mouth to his ear. “If we let you go, Michael, are you gonna try and get away? Can we trust you? Are you gonna try and hit me again?”

“No,” Michael said in a tiny voice, knowing it was futile. He was trapped.

“You promise?” Dwayne sounded both warning and seductive, his words like poisoned honey, saccharine and deadly.

“Yes, I…ohh…” Dwayne was nibbling on Michael’s earlobe, causing him to give a little breathy moan. “I…I promise.” He felt the blade retract and Dwayne’s bulk lift off him.

“Okay guys, let him go. If he tries anything, you know what to do.”

Paul relinquished his hold on Michael’s wrists and Marko rolled off his legs. Michael brought his arms down to his sides, feeling the ligaments in his shoulders strained like rubber bands stretched too far. He flexed his legs, grateful for the freedom and muttered, “About time.”

He finally looked up and found all three of the other guys looking at him like he was a tasty piece of meat in a butcher’s shop. He shifted, feeling unnerved and vulnerable and not liking it at all.

Dwayne quickly took charge of the situation. “Marko, pants. Paul, get his jacket and shirt.”

The young men obeyed and started to undress Michael and he just had to lie there and let them expose his body and the length of his rigid cock. His cheeks flushed at their open appraisal of his naked self in the firelight.

“Excellent specimen, isn’t he?” Dwayne said, taking in Michael’s six-pack abdominal muscles, his contoured pecs and biceps, corded shoulders, lean waist and sculpted thighs. Paul and Marko murmured their agreement.

“Are you all queer or something?” Michael retorted scathingly, in an effort to hide his squirming embarrassment at being ogled like a male stripper.

Smirking, Dwayne replied, “Or something. We like girls AND boys. It’s all hot flesh and blood to us.”

Before Michael could ponder that odd statement further, Paul picked up a lit candle from the floor.

“No. No, no no,” Michael hurriedly said, realising what he intended to do. “Don’t do that, Paul.”

Paul rolled his eyes at him. “Don’t be such a girl. It’s not gonna kill ya.” He tipped the candle over Michael’s chest.

“Jesus!” Michael flinched as hot pearls of wax hit his nipple, burning like acid on his tender flesh.

“Take it like a man,” Paul said, grinning, and tilted the candle again, more little fiery circles showering upon Michael’s skin. Michael drew in a fast breath as the boiling wax ate into the top layers of his epidermis. They all sniggered at his predictable reaction. After that, he resolutely kept his lips closed and his face blank, depriving them the sport of seeing or hearing his distress, even though it felt like he was being stung by dozens of green-ants. Paul languorously drizzled the melted candle wax over Michael’s chest, aiming for audio or visual confirmation of pain which Michael obstinately wouldn’t provide.

Growing bored with that unrewarding activity, Paul put the candle back down on the floor and began to pick all the discs of set wax off Michael’s chest and nipples so his friends could see the patches of red skin underneath. Paul’s nails scraped aggravatingly across Michael’s afflicted flesh and he fought the urge to smack the other male’s prodding fingers away. Michael let him know exactly how he felt about this undeserved punishment by sending his tormentor death-rays with his eyes.

“Did that hurt much, Mikey?” Paul asked coquettishly, giving one of Michael’s sore nipples a tweak.

“Fuck you,” Michael muttered darkly, clenching his hands into fists, only just controlling the suicidal impulse to snap Paul’s neck. “Fuck you all.”

He was notably erect in spite of his vexation and the three guys just laughed spiritedly at him once more.

“He is SO loving this,” Paul said to Dwayne, as if Michael’s opinion didn’t count, as if he was just a plaything, a toy for them to mess around with. Dwayne smiled cunningly and whispered something to Marko. Michael witnessed Marko peeling off his patchwork jacket. Under that he wore a cut-off white shirt that showed the skin of his flat tummy and navel above his blue pants and chaps. All night long, Michael had glimpsed Marko’s naked belly as he walked and moved, especially hanging off the bridge, and it had caused him a peculiar discomfort. Girls were supposed to wear midriff revealing tops, not guys. However, Michael couldn’t help surreptitiously glancing at the alluring strip of flesh.

Damn gay 80’s clothing designers.

Marko brought the Indian’s knife to his own wrist and made a swift, shallow wound. With mounting apprehension and revulsion Michael watched as Marko held his arm over Michael's nude body and let the blood drip onto his bare skin.

“Are you crazy? What are you doing?” he yelped, feeling the warm crimson liquid spatter onto his chest and stomach. Even in his randy, altered state, this was getting way, way too weird for him.

Marko grinned at him. “You’ll see.”

“Oh, that looks awesome, Marko,” Paul commented as the scarlet drops fell onto Michael’s creamy skin, the contrast of colour and texture very attractive to his vampire eyes.

Marko moved his arm and let his blood trickle over the young man’s Adam’s apple, thinking how unbelievably sexy it looked running down Michael’s neck. He ordered, “Open your mouth.”

“What? No freaking way!” Michael grimaced. Marko waved the razor-sharp blade at him and repeated his request. Michael turned his head away and refused.

“Just fucking do it, whore,” Dwayne said ominously, his tone boding no argument.

Michael glared at him and loathingly did as he was told, not wanting to feel the bite of the switchblade on his own flesh. Marko made him drink a couple of mouthfuls of his blood before lifting his wrist to his own lips and licking the wound as it clotted. He handed the knife to Paul who slipped off his coat and proceeded to slash his arm and similarly decorate Michael’s body, making sure his thighs and still-hard dick were adorned with bright red splashes and streaks as well.

Michael had shuddered as he swallowed Marko’s blood, finding the taste unpleasant and cloying, like rusting iron, but when Paul asked him to open up and his bodily fluid flowed into Michael’s mouth, he discovered he was actually developing a liking for it. It started to taste not like blood at all but something nicer, sweeter and much more appetising, something that made his gut twist in unexpected hunger.

He wanted more.

It was Dwayne’s turn next and this time Michael didn’t have to be told to take the offering, he eagerly parted his lips to accept the warm stream upon his tongue, somewhat like maple syrup, and was disappointed when the Indian took his wrist away.

“Look at you, baby,” Dwayne said reverently, gazing at him with smouldering dark eyes. “All pretty. All covered in blood. All for us.”

They fell upon Michael like hyenas upon a gazelle and he gasped in rapture as he felt three mouths on his skin simultaneously, lapping up every crimson bead that had rained down on him. His eyelids fluttered closed and he moaned gutturally, submitting to their voracious worship of his body, not one inch of his flesh left untouched by lips and tongues and the soft brush of long hair.

This was the most unusual initiation ceremony he’d ever come across but also the most extraordinarily intimate and sensual. There was playful nipping- the pinch of teeth on the very edge of hurting, along with long, slow licks, quick darts of tongues and hot, pulling suction. The pain of the hot wax faded from his memory under their spellbinding ministrations. Someone was flicking their tongue over his pebbled nipples, causing silver thrills to skitter through his chest, another guy was feasting on the curve of his throat, and an unidentified person was licking thirstily at his belly and delving into his navel.

Unaware of the noises of desperation he was making, he blindly arched up toward each kissing, sucking, devouring mouth, feeling as though he was being eaten alive.

And wanting it. Needing it. Badly. He was moaning, gasping, whimpering and crying, his tears blending with the blood on his face, another salty liquid that was savoured by the three ravenous creatures hovering over him.

It was all too much, too raw, too primal, too overwhelming, too purely sexual for him to stand, especially when one of them bit into his shoulder, the pain acute, electric and delicious at once.

“Oh yes, oh yes, oh, oh, oh...” he sobbed as he came for the second time, nobody even touching his dick.

He shivered all over and goosebumps rose on his skin as the triple mouths continued gorging on his unbearably sensitive and tingling body. Michael felt somebody lap up his cum and gently suck his cock clean. He kept his eyes shut tight, not wanting to know who was doing what. He felt licking on his arms, his sides, his thighs and his face and whoever that was, after they swiped along his cheeks and chin, they gave him a lengthy, deep, searching kiss.

Eventually, the oral adoration came to a halt and he dared to open his eyes. Paul, Dwayne and Marko were kneeling back, breathing fast, their lips swollen and stained with blood and their eyes gleaming with pent-up lust. They looked feverish and all had major hard-ons.

“Jesus, look how fucking ready and willing he is,” Dwayne whispered. “He’s mine. I don’t care what David said, I’m gonna have him.” He began to reach out to Michael again but Paul stopped him.

“You can’t,” he admonished, jerking the Indian’s arm back. “He’s not yours to have, Dwayne. Besides, you already bit him once.”

“Yeah. David told us not to do that,” Marko added scoldingly.

“Fuck David! I need…I want…I’m so…Argh!” Dwayne made an animalistic snarl of inexpressible physical tension and wrenched his arm out of Paul’s hold.

“You can have me,” Paul blurted out, taking Dwayne’s face in his hands and forcing his attention away from all-too-tempting, fuckable, biteable Michael, trying to distract his friend before he did something he wasn’t allowed to and got them all into serious trouble.

Dwayne stared at him. “Really? You mean that?”

Paul nodded. “Yeah. I said so, didn’t I?”

The ebony-haired vampire alternated his gaze between Michael, just lying there limp and satiated, pulsing with warm human blood that he craved with all his being, and Paul, one of his best friends and somebody he’d never dreamed in the whole history of time would ever offer himself to Dwayne. Humans came and went but he didn’t know if he’d ever get another unsolicited invitation like this again.

Michael was so out of it, he had no idea what was going on or what they were talking about but was relieved all the same when Dwayne turned his intense focus to the surfer dude instead of him. Michael lay there, unable to muster the energy to move, and watched, enthralled, as Dwayne kissed the blond guy with impatient desire, tangling his fingers in Paul’s wild hair, their jaws moving together as their tongues fought for dominance.

He’d never seen two dudes pash before. It was quite interesting.

Dwayne then pushed the other male down to his crotch, muttering, “Blow me.”

Paul ripped open his friend’s black jeans and took Dwayne’s cock into his mouth, sucking avidly, his cheeks turning concave and highlighting the exquisite bone structure of his face. Dwayne was breathing quickly and looking down with his dark, insatiable eyes as Paul performed fellatio on him. He uttered Paul’s name and raked his jet-black hair out his own face so he could better see his glistening shaft gliding in and out of his buddy’s accommodating lips.

“I’m coming…don’t swallow,” Dwayne commanded and tensed in climax. After the indescribable spasms subsided, he yanked Paul’s head up, saying, “I want it back.”

The tall blond placed his hands on Dwayne’s shoulders and rose up on his knees above the other guy, gazing down at him. Paul let a globule of white gelatinous fluid escape from his slightly parted lips and form a descending string. Dwayne opened his mouth and permitted the slimy substance to accumulate on his tongue. Paul spat it all into the Native American’s mouth and watched as Dwayne gulped and ingested his own semen. Paul smiled lasciviously at the evidence of his mate’s healthy narcissism.

Only just getting started, Dwayne shrugged his leather jacket off, revealing a bronzed plain of skin and muscle. The bare-chested Indian tore Paul’s black mesh singlet clean in half, ran his hands over the blond’s smooth torso, pinching his dusty pink nipples and making the other guy cry out. He took Paul’s mouth again, both of them on their knees facing each other, their long hair falling over their shoulders and down their backs, one curtain black as night and one a pale, flaxen yellow. They were both making sounds of abandonment high in their throats as they were kissing, their hands groping and roughly caressing the other’s masculine body as they duelled with their tongues.

Turning to his right, Michael found Marko sitting on his calves, his thighs apart and his own dick in his hand, obviously getting off on seeing the two young men together. He had taken off his gloves. Marko caught Michael’s blurry stare and grinned cheekily at him, then fixed his gaze on the promiscuous show his two other friends were putting on for them. Michael watched Marko lazily jacking himself for a bit, bewitched by the angel-faced boy’s unabashed self-stimulation, then hearing Dwayne speak, returned to his study of the couple in front of him kneeling on the floor.

“Do you want me to taste you, Paul?”

“Yeah,” Paul breathed and tipped his head back, closing his eyes as Dwayne moved his mouth down to his neck. The blond jerked abruptly and hissed, clutching at Dwayne’s upper arms. Paul had bracelets on both his wrists, one of them a studded leather band, and silver rings on his fingers.

When Dwayne pulled away, Michael saw blood on Paul’s throat. And Dwayne’s face was drastically different. His eyes were yellow, definitely yellow this time, his forehead bumpy and bat-like and the two teeth on either side of his incisors were elongated and sharp. The change was so sudden and unprecedented that Michael actually rubbed at his eyes like a cartoon character. As he gaped at the creature that was Dwayne, Michael saw Paul’s face morph into something inhuman as well.

“What the crap?” he whispered, not knowing if this was real or if he was hallucinating.

Marko chuckled and said to him, “This is all gonna make sense later, bud.”

The two men, with their vampire faces on, looked at each other, panting raggedly. Their eyes shone in the dimness of the cavern, like foxes caught in the headlights of a car. Dwayne ran his tongue over his pointed teeth and demanded, “You taste me now.”

He tossed his black hair over his shoulder and tilted his head to the side, displaying his tanned neck for Paul who bent down and opened his mouth. Michael saw the twin daggers of his teeth break through the Indian’s skin and heard Dwayne’s quick intake of breath. Paul’s throat worked as he drank Dwayne’s blood, the liquid sound of him swallowing and Dwayne’s soft moaning the only noises interrupting the silence in the cave. The rock music tape Marko had put on had run out earlier.

“Shit, that’s good,” Dwayne murmured thickly, sliding the fingers of one hand into the blond’s wavy hair, and the other hand going between Paul’s thighs and rubbing his friend’s erection through his pants. His nails were long and tapered to a point.

“Do it harder, Pauly.”

Paul obliged, a panther-like purr rumbling in his chest. He rocked his hips into Dwayne’s caressing hand as he sucked on his new lover’s neck. It was like they had forgotten Michael and Marko were closely observing them.

The only mortal there didn’t know what the fuck Dwayne and Paul were, freaking vampires or something, but he couldn’t tear eyeseyes away from the two of them making out. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind he should be trembling with fear right about then but all Michael could think about was how sexy and hot they looked together. It was like a B-grade horror/porn film. None of it felt as if it was truly happening, it was like a hazy, surreal, voyeuristic wet dream.

“That’s enough,” Dwayne ground out, jerking on Paul’s hair to make him stop. “You’re gonna drink me dry, man.” He slammed Paul back onto the bed, right beside Michael who clumsily scooted over to give them room on the mattress. The knees of Paul’s white pants were caked with dirt. Both Dwayne and Paul had double puncture marks on the side of their necks, still oozing blood.

“What the bejesus are you guys?” Michael asked stupidly, gazing at their unearthly amber eyes and bumpy foreheads. Dwayne and Paul grinned at him with cat-like fangs.

“What you will be soon, Mikey,” Paul replied mysteriously.

“But… I don’t understand…” Michael began in bemusement and the Indian cut him off.

“Shh. You will.” He changed tack. “Do you like to watch, amigo?”

Michael blinked slowly. “Uh…”

“Course you do,” Marko piped up, his hand still in his own pants. “Don’t deny it, dude. I saw you.” He lifted a blond brow at Michael.

To his chagrin, Michael felt himself blush and the others laughed at him. He was too stoned to think of a comeback. Marko’s statement was true anyway.

“So, watch us, Michael. We want you to,” Dwayne told him and removed Paul’s motorbike boots, unbuckled his belt and rolled the other guy’s pants down his long legs. Eventually, Paul was fully unclothed, his statuesque body slender and shapely, his shoulders and torso whittling down to narrow hips. With that mass of blond hair, fine nose, those almost feminine-looking lips and those goddamn perfect cheekbones, the only word Michael could think of to describe Paul was androgynous.

“Your skin is flawless,” Dwayne remarked, eying off Paul’s body. “Pure and unspoiled, like virgin parchment.” He smiled deviously and brought the tip of his fingernail to Paul’s chest. “Not for long, though.”

With intentional slowness, Dwayne carved a line into Paul’s chest, just above his nipple, making the other male hiss. The alabaster flesh separated under the point of Dwayne’s nail and crimson fluid filled the fresh cut. Dwayne muttered how pretty it looked and proceeded to make similar gouges all over Paul’s torso, each new wound causing the recipient to make a sound of pleasure/pain. He watched Paul’s face, how he was grimacing and baring his sharp white teeth. He went down further and made small slashes over his partner’s abdomen and Paul scrunched Star’s blankets in his hands in his excruciating bliss. Blood ran in little trickles over Paul’s skin, bright, red and wet.

Dwayne turned to Michael and said, “Look at Paul. All hurting and bleeding and wanting more. Doesn’t he look gorgeous like this, Michael?”

Michael thought what Dwayne was doing was horrendous and warped and he shouldn’t encourage him but the truth was, Paul did look breathtakingly gorgeous like that. Damaged. Ruined. Aching. Wanton. He nodded shortly, afraid to say the words out loud in case it confirmed that he really was an incurable pervert underneath his straight-laced exterior.

Dwayne smiled knowingly. “Michael thinks you look gorgeous too, Paul,” he confirmed and bent to lick at the cuts, cleaning up the blood, relishing the tangy, sugary, salty taste. The blond male underneath him was whimpering with his eyes shut tight as he felt Dwayne’s soothing tongue on his stinging flesh.

Dwayne knelt back and his hand paused above Paul’s hard cock, surrounded by blond curls. He touched the shaft with the edge of his nail, very lightly, and Paul moaned, wanting it and dreading it at the same time.

“Should I cut him here?” Dwayne looked to Michael with the eerie yellow irises of his eyes, the dilated black pupils standing out vividly.

Michael gulped and glanced at Paul’s tormented expression of suffering. “I…I don’t know. You probably shouldn’t.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Dwayne suggested. “Do YOU want me to cut him here?”

His talon-like fingernail rested on one of the veins forking up Paul’s penis, just under the smooth purplish glans that had a crystal drop of pre-come forming right over the slit. The vision was both fear-inducing and impossibly erotic at once.

Michael wouldn’t want it to be done to him, no way on earth, but at that moment, swimming in drugs and blood and all kinds of new and weird carnal emotions, he wanted to see it, to see Dwayne hurt his friend. He wanted to see Paul’s reaction.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“What about you, Marko?” Dwayne enquired, not forgetting his other pal who was faithfully watching the barbaric love-play with undivided attention.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Marko declared fervently, his fingers still curled around his own prick. “Cut him, man. Cut him!”

Paul arched his spine and cried out hoarsely as the Indian vampire sliced into the side of his dick. A hot red spray erupted from the lacerated vein and gushed onto his belly. Michael exclaimed under his breath, jarred and excited at once. He might have joined Marko in wanking himself if he hadn’t already had two orgasms and knew a third was highly unlikely. Dwayne lowered his head and stopped the scarlet fount with his mouth. The cuts on Paul’s chest and stomach had closed over already and were just thin red lines.

Puzzled, Michael turned and grabbed Marko’s hand, the one that was not jerking his penis, and squinted at his wrist. The self-inflicted wound appeared to be days old, not like it had only been done half an hour ago.

Marko knew what he was looking at and explained, “We’re fast healers, bro.”

Michael let Marko’s wrist go and frowned at him. “Are you like…like that too?”

He gestured to the sharp-toothed creatures beside him, oblivious to anything but their own consuming lust.

Marko let his face turn scary and vampiric for a second then switched back to normal. He grinned. “Does that answer your question?”

“Oh shit. I gotta be dreaming or something,” Michael muttered, dropping his head back onto the mattress, feeling the cave spinning queasily around him. “This can’t be happening. It can’t be.”

He heard Marko laugh, supremely amused. “Whatever you say, Michael.”

A gut-wrenching bolt of nausea hit him like a punch, his stomach convulsed and Michael rolled over and puked onto the dirt floor. All that came out was blood, rich and red. At the gruesome sight of it, he threw up again and then wiped his mouth with his arm. He groaned light-headedly and felt Marko rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Feel better, man?”

He nodded shakily and turned back over and found Marko looking sympathetically at him. He affectionately bushed Michael’s curls out of his face and stated, “Jeez. You’re gonna be so hungover in the morning, dude.”

Michael just groaned again. His head lolled to the side and he peered at Dwayne and Paul through bleary, reddened eyes. Dwayne had licked up all the blood that had spurted out onto Paul’s stomach and was now sinking the blond’s dick into his mouth and sliding back up, leaving the outside skin damp and dewy. He teased Paul’s iron-hard rod with his tongue, right over the recent cut, and was softly scratching his sharp nails over the other male’s tightening balls.

Michael wondered, aghast, if Dwayne could really be so cruel as to cut Paul there. A dick is one thing but testicles were incredibly delicate objects. He unconsciously covered his own crotch, unable to look away in appalled curiosity.

“Don’t, Dwayne, don’t,” Paul was begging, almost crying. “C’mon, stop torturing me, man.”

The raven-haired vampire raised his head and curved his lips in demonic gratification. “What do you want me to do instead, Paul?”

Paul growled at him, his yellow eyes sparking with anger. “You know what I want.”

“Say it,” Dwayne ordered quietly, dragging his fingernail menacingly over one fragile male reproductive organ.

“Goddammit, Dwayne,” Paul snarled in frustration and grabbed his arm. “I want you to fuck me, all right?”

Dwayne smiled patiently. “Say please.”

Paul gave another deep growl of exasperation, nearly a sob. “Please. Fuck me. Just fuck me. Please.”

Hearing what he wanted to hear, Dwayne roughly flipped Paul over onto his stomach, revealing his satiny, streamlined back and firm white buttocks, then held his hand out to Marko.

“Spit, buddy.”

Marko deposited a clear wad of saliva in Dwayne’s palm and then Michael had the hand thrust in his face.

“You too, Mikey,” Dwayne instructed.

Michael creased his brow, trying to decide if this was another bonding ritual part of his initiation and dredged up some spit to join with Marko’s. He didn’t count on the undead Native American using their saliva to lube up his own cock before spreading Paul’s legs and shoving the slippery length into his ass. Paul gasped and squeezed his eyes shut at the savage entry. Dwayne, still wearing his black jeans but with the fly open, draped himself over Paul’s back and began to grind his pelvis into him.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Paul gritted out from behind clenched teeth, referring to the degrading way Dwayne made him beg. “A total and utter bastard.”

Dwayne grinned above him and gave him a hard, bruising thrust. “And you love it.”

Paul grunted in response. Dwayne withdrew and pushed back into Paul’s tight but receptive opening with a steady rhythm. As he was being screwed, Paul writhed underneath him in an undulating motion and started to make tiny, mewling, girly noises that drove Dwayne crazy.

“Christ, Paul, fucking you is unbelievable,” Dwayne emphasised throatily, almost losing his sanity over how good the skin-on-skin contact and the constricting inner heat of the other guy’s body felt. Technically, being Nosferatu, Paul was classified as dead, but he was still hot and throbbing and very much alive to Dwayne.

“I’ve wanted to have sex with you like, forever. And you knew it. You’re such a cunt,” Dwayne said insultingly and yanked a fistful of Paul’s hair. “Why did you make me wait so long, man?”

“Just to piss you off,” Paul replied smugly. He craned his neck around to gaze up at Dwayne, his yellow eyes phosphorescent with unreleased passion. “Now, shut the hell up and fuck me, Dwayne.”

At the blunt order, Dwayne hooked his arms around Paul and pulled him up so his back was against Dwayne’s chest and belly and they were both kneeling. Dwayne had one arm slung around Paul’s neck to hold him there, and the other was free to roam over the front of the night surfer’s lean figure. He began thrusting into Paul again and toyed with his fuck buddy’s nipples until they turned into little stony peaks, then slid his hand down his flat belly, through the blond curls over his pubic bone and gripped his cock. Dwayne tugged Paul’s dick in time with his jabs, the sleek member skimming through his fist like a steel bar encased in soft suede.

“Faster. Harder,” Paul pleaded, his nails digging into Dwayne’s thighs, tearing his already-frayed jeans and the bronzed male obeyed, stabbing quick and deep.

“Like this?”

Paul leaned back into him. “Yeah. Oh, yeah, just…like…that.” He started panting as his climax built up.

“Mmm. You sound so fucking sexy,” Dwayne murmured, nuzzling Paul’s neck, licking at the puncture holes there. Paul suddenly nipped at the flesh of Dwayne’s forearm with his needle-sharp teeth.

“Ahh, you bitch,” Dwayne hissed at the ferocity of the strike. “So that’s how you want it, huh?” He retaliated by driving his twin snake-like fangs into Paul’s shoulder, causing the blond to tear his mouth away from his arm and yell out in a mixture of piercing pain and heightened sexual sensation.

“Fuck me. Bite me. Hurt me,” Paul beseeched needily. “Please, Dwayne. Hurt me.”

Dwayne banged Paul like a demon, hard and aggressively, and plunged his teeth unmercifully into Paul’s throat. Paul sheared Dwayne’s arm with his fingernails, leaving bloody gashes and the Indian called him a series of filthy names before attaining vengeance with another vicious bite.

Pushed over the edge by the feral scene before him, Marko swore to himself as he came in surging jets in his hand and over his bare belly. Michael watched with drowsy fascination as the impish young man started to lick up his own sperm. He smiled at Michael and stretched out his fingers, coated with white goo.

“Want some?”

Michael wrinkled his nose in distaste. “No!”

“Meh. Your loss.” Marko shrugged and brought his hand back up to his mouth.

Michael stared, transfixed and stunned, as Dwayne and Paul fucked beside him like a pair of mating wolverines. They were biting and clawing each other over and over again, the attacks getting increasingly violent and brutal. They were making harsh bestial sounds, grunts, growls, snarls and hisses that echoed and bounced throughout the gigantic cave and woke up the sleeping pigeons that cooed irritably and flapped their wings in annoyance.

Awe-struck, Michael wondered how much longer the two kinky blood-suckers could keep up this monstrously vigorous pace for and then Paul stiffened and called out Dwayne’s name. Dwayne pulled Paul’s dick quickly until the blond let out a curse of release and his milky jism was shooting through the air onto Star’s already defiled bed and pillows.

The poor girl is gonna have to burn those blankets now, Marko thought, cleaning the last vestiges of his own spunk from between his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Pauly…” Dwayne groaned as he felt the second vampire coming. He pumped his near-bursting cock into Paul’s ass a few more times, holding his slim hips, and shudderingly ejaculated inside his friend’s blood and sweat soaked body, uttering a string of beautiful-sounding Indian words as he reached his own plateau.

They collapsed onto the bed next to Michael, both gulping in air like they couldn’t get enough of it. Dwayne’s leg was pressed against his in an overly familiar manner but Michael couldn’t be bothered to move it. Shit, he’d felt Dwayne’s mouth on his dick; a bit of leg-touching didn’t seem so shocking anymore.

After a minute’s recovery time, Dwayne hugged Paul close and whispered in his ear, “That was great. Thank you, man.”

Paul grinned, too spent to speak. Right in front of Michael, both Dwayne and Paul’s visages reverted back to their regular, handsome, human state, the irises of their eyes dark brown and blue-grey respectively, their bat-brows turning smooth, their fangs and claws nowhere to be seen.

“Your faces…How do you DO that?” Michael mumbled sleepily.

The others snickered at him, and Marko predicted, “You’ll find out soon enough, bud.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you didn’t kill him, boys.”

The guys looked up as David appeared through the crack in Star’s curtains and swept his pale blue gaze around at the bloody scene of carnage and sex before him. Marko was sitting there, pants still undone and flat belly showing, his big azure eyes all dreamy and content, and Dwayne and Paul, entwined in a post-coital embrace, were covered in bites, scratches and thin rivers of blood. There was a naked, curly-haired, muscular young man sprawled on the mattress next to them, completely off his face and tripping out. David frowned as he saw the bruise on Michael’s shoulder. Marko timidly raised a hand.

“Um, that was Dwayne,” he volunteered, pointing at the offender. “Paul and I didn’t have anything to do with it, David.”

Dwayne silently mouthed the words ‘fuck off’ to Marko who unfurled his middle finger at him.

David fixed his icy stare on his second-in-command. “You bit him?”

Dwayne lifted a shoulder in half an apology. Come on, he was a vampire for Chrissakes, you couldn’t give him a meaty human body to play with and not expect him to have an eency-weency taste.

“Do you remember what I told you, Dwayne? Hmmm?” David cocked his head expectantly and his earring caught the candlelight. Dwayne mumbled something, his eyes downcast.

“What did you say?” David asked with controlled anger in his voice. “And look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Dwayne sat up on the mattress and sullenly met David’s glare, a rebellious light in his dark brown eyes. “What’s the big fucking deal, David? I didn’t kill him!”

At those words, David strode over and backhanded Dwayne hard across his bronzed face. Dwayne went flying, tumbling onto the dirt floor, naked. David grabbed a gloved fistful of the Indian’s midnight hair and yanked him onto his knees.

“I told you to do whatever you liked to Michael except fuck him or bite him,” David reminded him, clearly displeased. “And you disobeyed me. I will not tolerate insubordination. From you. From ANY of you.” He looked pointedly at Marko and Paul who appeared petrified of being on the receiving end of the wrath of their boss.

“You got that, boys?”

Marko gulped and nodded and Paul said with both hands raised in supplication, “Hey, you don’t have to tell me that, man. I hear you loud and clear.”

David turned back to the male on his knees, his hand still fisted in Dwayne’s long ebony hair. “You do that again and I will scalp you with your own knife. Comprende?” The uncompromising tone of his voice proved that he would do precisely as he said if his orders were not followed.

Dwayne swallowed, gazing up at David, fear and respect reinstalled into him once more.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, David,” he apologized meekly. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not.”

With a last warning glance, David let go of Dwayne’s hair and then brought his hand up to the other vampire’s face. Dwayne winced, as if he was anticipating another backhander, but David just patted his cheek and smiled sweetly.

“It’s a good thing I know how to get rid of bite marks, hey Chief?” he drawled. Dwayne sagged with relief. Marco and Paul both looked at him, trying to hold in grins.

“Way to go, tough-man,” Marko jeered under his breath, but loud enough for Dwayne to hear. “’I don’t care what David said. Fuck David. ’ Yeah, you really showed him, didn’t you?”

Scowling blackly, Dwayne gave him the finger this time.

David faced Michael, who had been watching the whole scene with detached curiosity, and crouched down beside him like a giant vulture. The young man blinked at the white-blond ringleader of the gang as if he was having trouble focusing. David’s eyes reflected yellow light as he changed into the night-stalking carnivore he really was. He curled his lips in a sly predator’s smile.

“My turn now, Michael.”

“Aw, fuck…” Michael moaned and thankfully blacked out.

He woke up to the sound of Sam’s insistent voice, telling him Mom was on the phone. It was two p.m., he was in his own bed, his head was pounding, his clothes were covered in dirt and grease and there was a new earring hanging in his left lobe.

What a wild night he must have had. After drinking that weird-tasting wine, he couldn’t remember a goddamn thing.

Although, his ass was strangely sore…

END