"Are you sure you want to do this?" Laura sat astride her girlfriend, chewing her lip anxiously.
"You bought these cuffs months ago, Creampuff. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts." Carmilla smirks.
"No, it's just - we've never done the tying up thing. Not since..."
"Since you held me hostage against my will? Not that I don't appreciate your candour, but I'm kind of over that now."
Laura pauses, examining Carmilla's face for signs of hesitation.
"But are you sure?"
"Positive, sweetheart."
Straddling Carmilla's waist on her bed, Laura leans over her, clicking the metal circlets closed around her girlfriend's left wrist above her head, looping the short chain around the bed frame before closing the other cuff.
Carmilla closes her eyes and steels herself, as Laura places a single soft kiss along the line of her jaw.
"Okay, well… Just relax."
"Speak for yourself, Hollis."
"Get away from her!"
I'd been so preoccupied with the naïve provincial girl in front of me, I hadn't heard them coming.
Hadn't even heard the door open, so busy staring into the perplexed gaze of Laura Hollis. That was my first mistake.
The second fuck up happened fast, so soon on the tails of the former that I didn't consider it until later; my failure to strike pre-emptively. I should've known that Xena the idiot warrior could prove to be problematic.
Danny plowed into me like a truck, slamming my body against Laura's bed like I was a matchstick she would snap if there wasn't an audience.
My lip split from her first hit, and I wondered if she'd ever fought before.
It felt like it, although her thigh pressed between my legs suggested something very separate to the raw aggression she was forcing out. What was really going on here?
Still, I was made of stronger stuff.
Her zygomatic bone barely withstood the brunt of the blow I sent, my knuckles connecting with the shell of her eye socket with a satisfying crunch.
We fought for long enough that I started to enjoy myself, adrenaline flooding my system with a familiar fondness.
For a moment, I almost felt alive again. If this hadn't been so laughable, it could've even been fun, a little wrestling before the main event.
Not that I'd ever give Summer Society a second glance, especially after her ass hit the floor.
She'd bruise, and bleed, and I'd be better for it. Maybe I wouldn't have to hold back for long after all.
It wouldn't be the first time that Mother had had to deal with the debris of death I had discarded. For a brief flicker, I allowed myself to consider a feed. That would definitely liven up my evening.
It took two months after Laura's first foray into kink for her to realise that sex didn't feel quite as good without it.
With every session she felt more confident, her back straight and tone firm as she addressed her supplicant lover.
These moments of dominance made her realise the power she had.
Carmilla, usually the driving force, gradually found it easier to slip into submission, handing over the reins of control to her lover.
She could relax, knowing that nothing would be expected of her but to obey.
This evening was another first.
Laura laboured over the breaking of porcelain skin beneath her blade.
It had happened before - accidental grazes, bitten lips, scratches that cut deeper than anticipated - but this time the lacerations would be deliberate, requested.
She held the tip of a hunting knife her father had given her over the curve of Carmilla's ribcage, tracing the jutting bones with the steel's reflection, light bouncing back from the single lamp lit by the bed.
Carmilla's brow was furrowed in concentration, eyes following the weapon as though her very life depended on it.
But she trusted Laura. Nothing would change that.
Laura placed a single finger under Carmilla's chin, lifting her face until she was forced to meet Laura's gaze. "Ask me again, Carmilla. I want to hear you beg for it."
LaFontaine barely registered on my radar.
I used their own momentum against them, catching the fist aimed at my face and pulling them past me until they met Laura's desk, headfirst.
Tough luck, nice try, next.
I've had worse things on my conscience than Kirsch's collarbone.
He hadn't even been close to me, his punch ranging wide, inches away from my head. Hadn't his mother ever taught him about hitting a girl?
I spared him no sympathy, my fingers finding the weak point of his clavicle like the crux of a wishbone, snapping.
I was warmed up, ready to rip people apart, to tear tendon from tissue and skin from sinew.
Coiled to kill, fired up to fuck, until I caught a glimpse of Laura's fearful face, panic flickering behind her wide eyes. She was a deer, facing the headlights of an oncoming eighteen wheeler: me.
I knew without any hesitation I had to stop. Let the geek squad win this round.
It would only take a day or so before another girl would be taken and they'd realise I had nothing to do with this. Then they could let me go, if I hadn't already chosen to leave first.
I couldn't let Laura be afraid of me.
Going soft for a girl, again; Mother would fucking love this.
I made an obvious and deliberate pause in my battle patter, my face the picture of patience as I let the combatants gather themselves, Lawrence untangling her limbs, Kirsch cracking his knuckles, LaF looking bleary at best.
If I'd been willing to compromise my integrity, I could've raised my hands, a saccharine surrender for their efforts.
Maybe I could make them see sense; I'd already made them see stars.
Turning to face Laura and opening my mouth to speak, to reason, I became aware of movement behind me, followed by a blow to the back of the head, a blanket of thick black night and a falling sensation.
Those fucks. At least I had fought fairly.
Even with tape sealing her lips, Carmilla still called out.
Her moans, although muffled, could drive Laura crazy, crashing into her concentration like waves breaking along the beach.
It wasn't that she didn't want to hear her girlfriend's cries, but more that the frustration on Carmilla's face whenever she begged for it - and Laura pretended not to hear - made it all the more satisfying.
In truth, she heard every stumbled syllable, each fumbled phoneme, those mumbled letters making the fuck a little better.
Gone was the roving reporter with righteousness on her mind: Laura had only one focus in this moment, and it wasn't the safety of Silas University.
She had learnt of late that simply picking up the roll of silver tape was enough to make the vampire weak at the knees, and used that fact to her advantage.
Taking the brunette's jaw in her hand, she held Carmilla still as she slid a second digit into her, maintaining eye contact as she began to move her fingers.
"Look at me Carmilla. Don't you dare look away."
I don't know what kind of vampire lore those guys know, but they seem to be forgetting that I'm strong.
It looks like Danny the Big Red Dog already let it slip her mind that I almost broke her face.
She's smiling at Laura, who's stood behind me, saying how she's "all the better" now that Laura's safe.
She was never unsafe, Jolly Green. Get a goddamn grip.
LaF is vying for sympathy too, labouring over the head injury that could've been so much worse if they weren't the least annoying member of the Scooby Gang.
I smirk behind the duct tape - which I wish I could say was a first - as I notice the splintered wood at the corner of Laura's desk. I could've thrown harder; LaF is lucky.
In my idle sweeping gaze of the room I notice that everything holding me here is flammable. I wonder if they're familiar with the perks of my pyromancy, and deign to demonstrate until I remember that the only reason I'm still here is for her.
She's still afraid, so I stay where I am, for now.
There's slim hemp rope tangling my limbs, binding me to the kindling-wood chair I'm sitting on.
Danny had pulled my bindings from the depths of the Summer Society lodge, or so she told Perry, but I doubt this was her first knot-tying turn; I know a two-column reef knot when I see one, well enough to also know that a certain someone's been practicing.
It's a good job I'm momentarily mute, because the opportunity for bondage-related humour here is endless, and I'd have loved to see Cupcake squirm.
Laura's knot-work had improved significantly, and Carmilla was no longer able to leave the bed without severe rope burn or begging.
Her girlfriend was wearing the same dress she had worn that night, so long ago, and still looked like a 'virgin sacrifice', even though their activities of recent months had proven the contrary.
Brushing her hair back over her shoulder, Laura leans in toward her partner.
Carmilla is tied to the chair again, arms tight behind her back, blindfold over her eyes. Long past were the days of silk-soft shibari and satin scarves. When the blonde tied a knot now, there was no release unless she decided so.
Being restrained liked this used to make Carmilla panic, a wild animal trapped and tormented, but these days she relished it, seeking solace and comfort in her lack of control.
"Don't move a muscle Carmilla."
Unable to resist, Carmilla wriggled, as smile gracing her lips as she was rewarded by the bite of a reef knot around her wrists and ankles, the woven knuckle of the noose pressing against her throat as it strained against the rope work leading down her forearms.
"I did try to warn you."
Carmilla can smell Laura nearby; her desire, her longing, and tugs against the bindings to be closer.
Her girlfriend has been touching herself for the past ten minutes, releasing the softest sounds of satisfaction that Carmilla's ears can register.
She is desperate to touch, to taste, her head pounding with need.
Laura had withheld many things from her during this session, and Carmilla is struggling to keep control of herself.
"Laura, please."
Laura laughs, and as Carmilla opens her mouth to beg again, she finds her lips pressed against soft flesh unexpectedly.
When she kisses, she feels a flickering pulse beneath her tongue.
"Drink, Carm. I know you want to."
The vampire hesitates. It's not like this would be their first time, but she is always afraid.
Laura places one hand on the back of her head and applies pressure, slipping her second hand between Carmilla's thighs, ankles purposefully bound to the chair legs for easier access. She fucks the vampire tortuously slowly, easing herself into the girl's heated entrance inch by burning inch, forcing Carmilla's waiting mouth closer to her neck until teeth graze skin.
Carmilla's whole body hums with anticipation, Laura's deft fingers working her closer to the edge than she would like, her incisors scraping her girlfriend's jugular as she does her best to resist biting down.
Laura repeats her earlier command, and this time, Carmilla can't help but obey. "Drink, Carmilla. Now."
3 days without blood. My hearing is the first to go; I can no longer hear the front door down on the first floor of the building open and close. My favoured aural fixation - listening to LaF and Perry hotly debate preferred pronouns further down the corridor - is taken from me without my consent.
3 days without the stuff that keeps me conscious, and my body begins to shut down. My faculties close off, one by one, deemed unnecessary.
It marks the beginning of the end.
I know this now.My vision is the last to leave, removing my ability to see the hairs on Laura's arms raise when a cold breeze crosses her skin, narrowing my sight down to two black holes, like I'm seeing life through a telescope in reverse.
I am the dying deceased, the whole situation unpleasantly reminiscent of my time in the coffin, walls closing in around me as the darkness consumes.
There is no war to rescue me - albeit involuntarily - this time.
Did I really give up my afterlife for this?
I am coming as close to a coma as a corpse ever could; it is not pretty.
The last thing I hear before I black out is Laura, calling my name.
"Carm - fuck, Carmilla..." Laura's moans are languid, the blood loss making her both somnolent and sanguine, in every sense.
The vampire trembles when she cums, blood falling messily from her lips and onto her pale white thighs, which tense and flex about Laura's hand.
This is the first time she has fed and been fucked at the same time, and it is a process she would like to revisit.
Her climax come to an end, Laura lifts the blindfold from her eyes, lights exploding in Carmilla's retinas like fireworks in the dead of night.
Bonds loosened and blood flow stemmed with tissues and kisses, they fall into bed - fall being the operative word.
Although Carmilla has never needed to sleep, she finds that in her sated state, it seems like the next best thing to a repeat performance.
Eyes closing as she wraps her leaden limbs around Laura, she sighs, content to slip into a deep, dreamless sleep, which tugs at her the second her body settles.
There has never been a better way to black out.