Tasting Andrew

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

The Colt’s Farm. Escambia County, Florida

With a threatening scowl upon his face, Rolf barreled down the hallway toward Colton’s bedroom. Clyde was close behind him trying to explain the situation and deflect any blame.

“Man, he just was going nuts,” sputtered Clyde. “He was screaming and throwing shit. I have never seen him like this, Wolf.”

“The Colt has done gone crazy again. Come help,” Clyde had texted Rolf with the simple message that dripped with venom and build a stronger sense of mistrust within Rolf toward this man. Rolf had sensed that Clyde had illusions of being a top dog among the group and seemed to find as many opportunities as possible to grumble about the boss’s mental state and his night terrors. It had become common knowledge among the men that only Rolf seemed to have the ability to calm the Colt’s violent moods and his explosive episodes of night terrors. Several tours in Afghanistan could certainly fracture even the most stable of men and the ever present stress of impending violence and the death of comrades had pushed Colton Jefferson to dark places from which only the Wolf could extricate him.

“I just don’t see how the Colt is going to hold his shit together,” sneered Clyde as they arrived at the closed door and were greeted by a crash and bellowing scream from within Colton’s bedroom. “Don’t you agree, Wolf?” Rolf turned abruptly around and invaded Clyde’s space snarling with menace.

“I don’t,” hissed Rolf eyeing Clyde carefully. Clyde stood his ground against Rolf’s stance and felt the stabbing of Rolf’s finger into his lean chest.

“Colton is in charge here. This is his place and these are his resources. And it is his leadership that has given us patriots the chance to take our country back.” Spat Rolf emphatically at the man. Clyde was a good six inches taller than Rolf and was a tower of lean muscle covered with well-worn desert fatigue pants and a tight t-shirt emblazoned with a Confederate flag. Clyde just grinned thinking that he had the advantage over this smaller fellow who was just a little too clean-cut for his liking. He thought to himself-----I would pimp slap this pretty boy into the next county if I just had the chance. A thought that was easily received as Rolf glared into the eyes of this threatening punk.

“I have this situation under control now,” snarled Rolf. “Go back to whatever you were supposed to be doing, Clyde.” Rolf turned to open the door.

“I am sure you do, Wolf,” growled Clyde. “Go do whatever you two do to calm his ass down.” Clyde emphasized the word “ass” as he was insinuating something altogether unnatural between the Wolf and the Colt. Focused upon his immediate concern that lay behind this door, Rolf opened it to the darkened bedroom and closed it behind him leaving Clyde standing in the hall just as Rolf heard Clyde’s whispered insult----“faggot”. Rolf made note that Clyde’s budding ambition would need to be dealt with soon, but currently he needed to calm the Colt.

Rolf found the room in complete disarray. The crash had obviously been the lamp that was now shattered on the floor from where it had been hurled by the distraught Colton who sat naked rocking in the corner with his wild eyes darting around the room in search of the phantom combatants who had invaded his sleep. Colton was a handsome man in a very rugged way. His body was covered with an attractive pelt of brown fur which was only marred by the occasional scar from the wounds he had obtained from IED attack upon his battlegroup in Kandahar. Rolf dropped to all fours and crawled non-threateningly across the room to where the sobbing and groaning Colton sat huddled against the wall reliving quite possibly that ghastly attack that had scarred him physically and mentally.

Colton’s eyes met Rolf’s gaze and he whimpered.

“They are dead, buddy,” moaned the Colt obviously reliving the pain. “They are all dead. Body parts everywhere. Oh god, so much blood.” Rolf finally reached the stricken Colton and cradled the frantic man’s face in his hands so Rolf could gaze into his eyes. Rolf had repeated this process many times with Colton since they had met several years ago. Rolf would gently enter Colton’s mind and like straightening patio furniture after a violent thunderstorm, he would set right the scattered and chaotic thoughts overwhelming the man’s mind until he would then nuzzle Colton’s neck and bite him feeding some but with the purpose of injecting the calming and aphrodisiacal effects of the vampire venom into the struggling man’s body. The encounter would then slip into an intensely sexual nature which culminated in Rolf mounting Colton and sometimes Colton would top Rolf. After an explosive release, the Colt would collapse into a deep peaceful sleep that would be devoid of the terrors that normally disturbed his slumber. No one knew of this secret, but Clyde was skating dangerously close to its truth and would have to be dealt with accordingly. No one would be allowed to threaten what Rolf had worked so hard to create in the hopes of chaos. When not haunted by his past traumatic experiences, Colt was as a force to be dealt with and his mind was strategic in its thoughts and his convictions were solid and inspirational. The group as a whole were in awe of this man when he was operating at his peak. There were a few voices of dissent of which would need to be dealt. Clyde was at the top of that list. Rolf would easily be able to convince Colton that he should eliminate this problem. Maybe, Colton would want to watch. After all, the man’s leadership qualities were only eclipsed by the Colt’s brutality.

Rolf now had wrapped his arms around Colton’s sweaty and trembling body.

“You’re safe now, buddy” whispered Rolf softly but with compulsion in his tone. “It is just you and me here and now. Tell me what you want.”

“Bite me, Wolf, please,” groaned Colton as he slipped into the comforting fog that Rolf had placed in his mind to disperse the nightmare memories. Rolf kissed Colton deeply then glided his tongue across the man’s bearded jaw toward his target. Colton gasped and his body jerked in Rolf’s arms as he felt the strike of those fangs into his neck and Rolf’s hand grasping his hardening dick as the venom of the vampire’s bite worked Rolf into a sexual heat.

Andrew’s Dorm Room

Andrew rolled over in his bed stretching his body as he emerged from what he thought was the best sleep that he had since coming to the university. His eyes focused over to Nick’s bed where Joe had settled into sleep. But Joe no longer was in the bed and actually was nowhere in the room. Andrew jumped up and checked the time on his phone. It was after nine-thirty in the morning. He had slept long and hard once Joe had calmed him down last night. Andrew spied a note on his desk.

“Thanks for the use of your notes. They are great. You were out like a light so I didn’t wake you when I was done copying them. Also, I was thirsty and I drank one of your Sun-Dew-Ones from your fridge. It tastes like home. I hope that is ok. I owe you one so text me and I will pay you back. Here is my number……”

Andrew chuckled at the rambling note from his new friend and then added Joe’s number into his phone then composed a text.

“Good morning.”

A reply quickly dinged back. “Hey, buddy. U getting up.”

“Yep”, typed Andrew. “Sorry about punching you.”

“No worries,” Joe replied. “I get hit harder on the field. But you do pack a punch.”

“Cool,” typed Andrew chuckling at Joe’s remark. The door to the dorm room opened and a still slightly inebriated Nick tumbled into the room. Andrew abruptly finished his texts with “Will chat later. Have a good day.”

“Fuck, man,” sputtered Nick as he landed on his bed. “I was hoping you would be out somewhere, like the library or some such shit.”

“I was just about to leave,” replied Andrew as he gathered some notebooks and stuffed them in his backpack. “Was heading out to breakfast then spend the day at the library so the room is all yours.”

“Fucking cool,” slurred Nick lounging drunkenly across his bed. “Stan, down the hall, said you had a boyfriend over last night. I hoped he fucked you good, buddy.” Nick giggled at his crude remarks.

Andrew furiously strode toward the still open door into the room. “You are such a fucking asshole.” Andrew cursed as he slammed the door on the way out.

“It’s your asshole that is getting the fucking,” snickered Nick as he slipped into drunken slumber.

Bienville Square. Mobile, Alabama

Savoring the salty taste of the roasted peanuts that he was munching, Jeremiah strolled through the park shaded by the ancient live oaks dripping with Spanish moss and took in the sights and smells of downtown Mobile. He thought to himself that it was good to be back in the city after spending the late spring and summer globe-trotting to inspect his -various properties and business holdings and occasionally ferrying messages among the scattered vampires and their former enemies, the vampire slayers. It was all quite uneventful and mundane. Even with the advent of electronic communications, face-to-face meetings were preferred and considered much more secure.

Well, thought Jeremiah, it had been uneventful and mundane until recently. The murders at the hands of a vampire or possibly number of vampires had stirred the rather pedestrian discussions between the vampires and the slayers. Of course, the term “slayers” was creeping out of the vernacular between the two former adversaries as the more appropriate term of “enforcers of the truce” or just simply “enforcers” was being used to describe the group of those individuals both vampire and slayer who upheld the code of behavior for both.

Something was happening which was dark and dangerous and was threatening the relative calm among the vampires, enforcers, and the massive amount of the general population across the globe who were completely unaware that these creatures even existed. Even though the latest killings had occurred just over hundred miles away, Jeremiah still considered this little piece of the Gulf Coast fairly isolated from cares and strife of the outside world. Still with the grace and charm of an old southern port city, but without the noise and chaos of the beach cities or New Orleans, Mobile had served as Jeremiah’s happy space since after the end of the Civil War. Jeremiah Greene and his succession of several aliases as nephews or distant, but close cousins, had provided him the perfect masquerade disguise to make the members of the Greene family a peripheral fixture and supporter of the community but without exposing his secret of being a 2000-year-old vampire. Mobile also offered an adequate supply of men to satisfy his needs. But a vampire cannot survive on blood and sex alone and Jeremiah made his way to the little shop of Bienville Books to stock up on some good reads to accompany him to his little house on the beach of Dauphin Island.

Jeremiah chuckled at the chalkboard street sign touting the “hauntedness” of the little bookstore. Supposedly, Bienville Books was the abode to a least two or maybe three resident restless spirits-----if you believed in such things. One of Jeremiah’s favorite t-shirts was a promotional item for the shop emblazoned with “I read dead people.” That shirt was quite the ice-breaker when Jeremiah was out on a prowl about town or for an evening run along the beach. “Not only do I read them,” snickered Jeremiah to himself, “I have on a few occasions actually met them.” His thoughts went to memories of Victor and he raising about seven kinds of hell in the midst of Shakepeare’s London.

“Jeremiah Green!” greeted the beaming middle-aged lady behind the counter as he entered the bookstore. “I wondered when you would be getting back to town.”

“Afternoon, Sally,” responded Jeremiah as he awkwardly hugged the clerk across the counter. “I like the new hair color. Getting ready for Halloween, I see.” Sally was sporting a blue-black hair color with one strategic white streak lacing down its length. Sally laughed and shook her long mane of hair.

A patron approached and waited patiently just behind Jeremiah as Sally and he exchanged brief pleasantries. Jeremiah sensed the customer and turned in apology and was met a solidly built fellow who stood cradling several books in his hands to purchase. Jeremiah took in the sight appraising this handsome man who was probably in his mid-forties judging from the subtle greying of his short hair. The way he carried himself exuded a sense of authority and strength from years of military training or law enforcement, or both. His broad shoulders led to his defined chest and just a little spread of middle age in his belly with a little chest fur peeking out from his unbuttoned polo shirt.

“Pardon us, man,” apologized Jeremiah with polite charm stepping aside as the man slipped past Jeremiah close enough for him to catch his presence which seemed to confirm that he was a fine specimen of masculinity. “Old friends catching up.” Sally proceeded to ring up the man’s purchases.

His eyes were what intrigued Jeremiah the most as the man smiled and nodded in appreciation. The eyes are the windows to the soul and Jeremiah took advantage to glance into this handsome man’s psyche. Jeremiah was greeted with the inner reflection of the quiet confidence and authority that the fellow had physically radiated, but also a touch of sorrow and loss manifested itself in his steel grey eyes.

“I see someone else is getting ready for Halloween,” remarked Sally as she perused the fellow’s purchase. “Vampires, huh?”

“Just doing some research,” the man remarked almost wistfully but with a tone of determination. Sally bagged the gentleman’s purchase and the transaction was completed. He gathered his purchase and replaced his wallet in his hip pocket of his jeans snuggly fitting his muscled ass and thighs and headed out the door.

“You have a good afternoon, Jason,” wished Sally gently with genuine concern as the man headed toward the door and in response he waved in acknowledgement. Then he was gone with the tinkling of the door chime being the only reminder of his presence.

“Poor guy,” Sally looked out to the street to where Jason had headed. “Jason is a really great dude and imagine he is taking it pretty hard.”

“Taking what?” inquired Jeremiah still looking out toward the handsome, but sad Jason had exited.

“Oh, you’ve been out of town,” explained Sally. “Jason was really close friends with that cop that was killed down at Pensacola Beach a few weeks ago. Well, killed is putting it mildly, they say he was butchered up pretty badly. Some say that the sea critters had done most of the damage, but word is that something had ripped his heart right out. Jason is taking it really hard.”

“I hadn’t heard about this,” lied Jeremiah knowing full well that pleading ignorant would be an invitation for Sally to fill him in on the details.

“Jason was like a mentor to Rick when they both worked here for the Mobile police,” added Sally. “Two of Mobile’s finest. They would drop by the shop and be just fun to be around whether they were on duty or off. All the good guys loved them and the bad guys seemed to at least respect them. Jason retired a couple of years ago and Rick got a good position over with Escambia County. But they would come in the shop together when Rick would be in town. I think that Rick was trying to get Jason to move over there and find a place near the beach.”

“Heartbroken,” remarked Jeremiah out loud as he realized the sorrowful feelings that he had encountered in Jason’s mind.

“Yes,” agreed Sally. “I assumed that they were much more than friends. Such good men. I hate it for Jason. At least he is working and that seems to keep his mind off things. Jason is the night guard for Bellingrath Gardens. They love him down there.”

“Maybe I should offer to talk with him,” suggested Jeremiah.

“Ah, Dr. Green,” chuckled Sally. “I thought you had closed up your counseling gig?”

“I am willing to take on a few special cases here and there,” remarked Jeremiah playfully. “Specially to help a friend of a friend.” Jeremiah flashed his playful smile that had charmed himself into the hearts and minds of many men and women over the centuries.

“You’re a good man, too,” commented Sally.

“I try to be,” stated Jeremiah with much more emphasis that he had intended as he thought about Jason. “Now, my good shopkeeper, I need you to suggest some guilty pleasure reads that will be good for the soul but not necessarily the intellect.” Sally laughed and the two friends fell into an amicable literary discussion that would fill Jeremiah’s need for light entertainment and likewise fill the cash drawer of Bienville Books.

The University Library

I stepped off the elevator onto the same floor of the library in which I had encountered Andrew just a few weeks before. I had decided to find the boy and confront these feelings that seem to be rumbling through my mind and most likely his mind, also.

I was not disappointed. As handsome as I had first laid my eyes upon him, Andrew sat at a table deeply studying when I stepped off the elevator. He looked up and his eyes met mine, but his look was tinged with fear and anger and not with the confused lust of our first encounter. This was not exactly the greeting for which I had hoped.

“I figured you would find me,” Andrew calmly said with just a note of challenge in his tone. “I tried to make it easy. I know what you are, Victor.”

I sensed that we were the only ones on the floor and I slipped quickly to the seat across the table from the boy. “You are vampire and I am just something that you want to eat.”

I was so confused by this reaction. I tried to get Andrew to focus his eyes upon mine, not so that I could entrance him but to give me some insight as to his agitation. I was at a loss. I suddenly realized that just maybe my nightmare vision was really Andrew’s nightmare telegraphed into my mind. That possibility opened a myriad of discussion points but right now I had a troubled young man who was just thirty seconds from running through the entire library announcing that I was a monster that was about to devour him. That scenario was not going to end well.

“Andrew,” I spoke firmly but without malice. “I am what you say I am, but I swear to you, buddy, that I would never harm you in any way. We both felt what we felt that night. I was as much drawn into it as you were.” Andrew glared at me as he tried to understand what I was very feebly explaining. If he would just touch my mind like he did that night, then maybe I had the chance to calm him to an understanding that hurting him was not in the fiber of my being.

“So how many have you lured to your home,” hissed Andrew. “You hide the bodies in the basement or in your garden? Was that your plan to lure me back to your house and fuck me, drain me dry, and rip out my heart?”

The venom of Andrew’s emotional accusation was painful to my very soul, but it was the last few angry words that caught my attention.

“What did you say?” I inquired calmly.

“You want to fuck me,” Andrew repeated forcefully and with an uncomfortable volume. “You want to suck my blood and rip my heart out”

The realization struck me. Andrew had experienced the same nightmare as I had. And somehow the fuel for that vision was ignited by current events which this young man’s mind had tuned into. Once again, this was a topic for a later discussion. I need to gain Andrew’s trust and soothe his fears and his anger.

“I have no intention to harm you,” I spoke directly and calmly opening my mind and its intentions to this fascinating boy. Obviously, Andrew’s talented mind sensed the genuine concern I had for him and I could see his body relax as some of the tension and fear subsided.

I reached my hand and gently touched his shoulder which was trembling intensely. I fought the urge to just gather him in a protective embrace and hold him until his anxious mind eased. But this was not the place or the time.

“OK,” Andrew remarked flatly. “Then what was that I saw….?”

“We need to talk,” I insisted. “But not here. Let’s get a coffee and take a walk. I promise I will not harm you in any way.”

“I believe you, I think,” responded Andrew. What had been a volatile situation had eased into calmness. “Coffee would be good and I know a place where we can talk in private.” Andrew gathered his books and slipped them into his backpack. He stopped and I could sense him in my mind. “You are capable of killing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, our kind can kill,” I answered honestly. “But I do not.” I felt this statement was somehow a pronouncement particularly in light of my recent thoughts of Carl. “I will defend myself and those who I care about, but I do not kill.”

“But others do,” added Andrew nervously as obviously he remembered his powerful nightmare.

The Colt’s Farm. Escambia County, Florida

Clyde awoke slowly from the drugged haze. One moment he was sharing some drinks with Rolf and the Colt, and then the room spun into darkness. Now he found himself naked tied to the one of the stall gates of the horse barn. As Clyde’s eyes focused, he could see Rolf standing at a nearby stall stroking the powerful neck and sleek mane of the big black stallion that was named Lucifer. This animal was a terror to everyone else except for Rolf who seemed to have almost some creepy bond with this beast with a devilish temperament. Rolf was only dressed in a pair of black nylon shorts and was visibly sporting the start of an impressive hard on.

“I think our agitator has finally come around,” Rolf hissed into the ear of the massive Lucifer’s ear. The horse stamped and snorted excitedly. Clyde sensed someone else in the barn nearby and turned his head to see the Colt leaning against another stall gate also dressed only in black nylon shorts.

“I thought you two were faggots,” growled Clyde. “Just wait until the boys here about this and you know the big bosses won’t be not to pleased that their operations are being run by queers.” Clyde attempted to struggle against the ropes the held his arms tightly to the stall gate. His legs were free and he kicked wildly trying to get a footing but not making progress.

“I thought I might show you what you have been missing,” calmly stated Rolf as he strode to where Clyde was flailing against the gate. “And as for telling anybody anything, Clyde, I don’t think that will be happening.” Rolf leaned down and flicked his tongue across Clyde’s nips as he grasped the bound man’s cock and stroked it eagerly. The other horses in the barn seemed almost frightened and eerily quiet except for the wild-eyed Lucifer who stamped and snorted more furiously, intensely watching his master seduce the struggling Clyde.

“Get off me, man!” yelled Clyde. “I ain’t no queer!” With those words screamed, Rolf locked his mouth on Clyde’s erect left nipple sucking hungrily then piercing the man’s pec with his fangs. Clyde screamed in pain at first. Rolf was still pumping the man’s cock as he sucked upon Clyde’s pec and nip.

“What the fuck!” howled Clyde as the venom from Rolf’s bite hit his blood stream. “Please, Colt, tell him to stop. I am a good man. Loyal. Honest.” Each of Clyde’s words came in pants as his body started to respond to the vampire’s control over his body. The Colt approached and looked into Clyde’s eyes furiously.

“You were gonna get me removed from my post, you miserable cunt,” spat Colton at the struggling man. “You were fucking me over. Now we gonna see who is getting fucked.”

Rolf released himself from feed upon Clyde whose body was starting to react lustfully to the attention but still aware of the threatening circumstances of his situation. Rolf snarled baring his bloody fangs to emphasize the point. Clyde reacted in horror.

“Please no, Rolf,” Clyde pleaded. “What are you going to do to me? Oh god, please, Colt. I promise I won’t tell.” Rolf licked across Clyde’s sweaty chest and targeted his right nip as Rolf painfully twisted Clyde’s hardened cock and then pulled his balls sharply.

Colton grabbed Clyde by his hair and forced the struggling man to look his boss in the eyes.

“The wolf is making you feel good, ain’t he, Clyde,” The Colt remarked as he watched Clyde’s eyes roll back in reaction to the pain and pleasure that Rolf was delivering.

“Please, Colt,” groaned Clyde. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please, just let me go.” Rolf growled and bit into Clyde harder making the man scream. The barn was eerily quiet with the exception of the three men and Lucifer snorting furiously as he watched his master feed and torture Clyde. All of the other horses had retreated further into their stalls as the scene continued to unfold. Clyde was still begging as Rolf licked along his arm and found his tender wrist and bit deeply. Clyde’s cock was hard and dripping and Colton lowered his mouth and started to suck brutally.

“Oh god,” groaned Clyde as his body shook from the biting of Rolf and the hungry sucking of the Colt on his cock. “Please. Don’t kill me. Please.” Colton’s warm mouth was assaulting Clyde’s’ cock with suck pleasurable sensations that the poor man forgot that Rolf was sucking his life away.

Colton found Clyde’s tight hole and brutally inserted his finger deep. Clyde responded with a cry of pain as his ass was invaded for the very first time. Rolf licked and nibbled back down Clyde’s sweating body and shared in the feasting upon his cock with Colton. The two men took turns sucking and biting Clyde’s hardened prick as Colton inserted a second and third finger into the man’s tight hole.

Lucifer let out an excited whinny as the smell of sex and blood filled the barn. The stallion’s nostrils flared as if attempting to snort in the intoxicating smell. Rolf turned his attention to his pet.

“Lucifer, I know what you want,” called out Rolf to the wild creature. “But not this one, my pet.”

Clyde’s eyes flew wide as the realization reached his clouded mind. “Oh god, no, Rolf. Please no.”

“His ass is so damn tight,” remarked Colton now in a frenzy as he fingered Clyde.

“You ought to feel how tight they get when you’re killing them,” added Rolf sinisterly. Clyde was panicking as the words hit his mind. “Mount him up, Colt, and I will show you.” Clyde screamed in terror as Colton shucked off his shorts exposing his big dick and balls. With no hesitation, Colton drove his cock deep into Clyde’s ass. Rolf bared his fangs and descended to Clyde’s neck. The piercing of the fangs into Clyde’s neck created the reaction as Rolf promised as Colton groaned in pleasure in response to Clyde’s ass hold contracting in fear and pain around the Colt’s big dick.

Clyde ceased forming words as he felt his ass being raped and his life being drained and only could grunt and scream as the two men slowly finished him. As the final fatal bite, Rolf engulfed Clyde’s cock in his fanged mouth and drained the man of his final orgasm and his life. Colton whooped loudly as he rode the dying man to his own thunderous orgasm.

Suddenly the cries of the doomed Clyde ceased and the only sounds that remained were the heavy breaths of the Colt and the Wolf and the disappointed snorts of Lucifer.