Fangtasia Stories: Moobie Night
Set before Dead and Gone
"Excuse me, can I please get a picture of you?"
A young, timid-looking fang banger sidled up to Eric's booth, and he gave her a blank, if slightly annoyed glance. He hated being interrupted from his thoughts, and those who approached him like he was some minor celebrity soap star, requesting autographs or photographs, were not usually even worthy of a verbal response. Someone once put their arm around him and did the thing where you hold the camera at arms length and take a too close up picture that always turns out blurry. Result? Broken arm, some glamoring and a crushed digital camera.
Did they not realize he was the one who did the summoning?
He noticed she was shaking, and her pulse was racing so quickly she was likely to pass out at any moment.
"No," he said firmly, dismissing her with a wave of his fingers.
"It'll only take a..."
Pam was suddenly standing beside the girl. He noted that his child was wearing a very fetching spangly red jumpsuit. Eric looked down at her feet, to check for legwarmers. Pam loved legwarmers back in the 80's. During that period Eric had hung onto his punk phase for as long as possible, before moving on to metal and hair rock. Pam had been in her element with Flashdance and Fame, and then the New Romantics. Happy times. Big hair.
"Pictures, calendars, t-shirts and other official memorabilia are available for purchase at the booth near the entrance, bloodbag. Now take a hike."
The girl quickly scurried off, and picking up on his mood, Pam put her hands on her hips and stood with her back to Eric, waiting to see whether anyone else dare approach her master. She always knew what he wanted. She could read him so well.
Where would he be without his child?
Eric looked back at his cocktail glass full of lukewarm O Positive and frowned. It had been a tough couple of months. Of all his long, long life, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been more tediously frustrated. There was that time when he and Pam had traveled across the Atlantic stowed below deck on a very slow, stinky cargo ship and had to survive by nipping on and glamoring a small crew of bearded sailors who had little or no knowledge of personal hygiene. They'd rekindled their sex life, quite reluctantly, just to stay sane. Pam had taken to whittling farm animals out of bits of wood, using her teeth, and Eric gathered a collection of pebbles and frayed rope which he named after the Norse Gods and acted out plays involving their (usually sexual) escapades for Pam's amusement. Pam eventually went into almost constant downtime and Eric swore off drinking from bearded humans ever again, even if it meant his final death.
Those were truly testing times.
Anyway, for Eric, the last couple of months had been some of the most miserable on record. He'd had to host the new king and his entourage, which had been exhausting. Felipe was constantly challenging him, asking questions, and making outrageous demands for random items and entertainment, such as 'the biggest hat in the world' and husky dog racing in the Fangtasia parking lot.
When the king had finally returned to Nevada, Victor had stayed behind to oversee New Orleans, and kept appearing at the bar unannounced, sniffing around, demanding to see accounts and reports and files and anything else that might relate to the amount of profit being made by the Area Five sheriff. Eric had shown him only what was necessary, keeping certain business dealings firmly under lock and key.
Whenever he had a moment to think, his thoughts were always with Sookie. He felt her anxiety and worry, but he forced himself to stay away, for her own protection. Felipe was now aware of her talents, as well as their unusually close connection. No doubt he would soon be requesting to use her for his own means, and that was a worrying thought. He would need to think about remedying that problem soon. For now she was safe, and Eric had to ensure stability for himself and the Area before he would feel comfortable seeing her again.
But oh, he would see her soon. They would have a long talk about their time together, and it would end in slow, glorious, steamy sex. He would claim what was rightfully his and reacquaint himself with her in every way. Multiple orgasms would abound and he would show her what he was truly made of, when he was his true, complete self, rather than a toned down version. She would be his again. It would be spectacular.
Pam, apparently satisfied that there were going to be no further interruptions, turned and leaned on the table.
"Guess what? That fang banger did visit the merchandise booth, and bought one of my calendars. I just saw her leave with it, with a big smile on her face."
"There is no accounting for taste."
"I think it is time to reveal the winner, don't you?"
"Yes, I agree. Has Maxwell Lee kept a record, as we requested?"
"He has, and I believe he's completed his report."
"Well then, there is no time like the present. Call him in for a meeting, in one hour. Let's have the verdict. Prepare yourself for an oral sensation the likes of which you have never experienced before. I think Bill might even enjoy it."
Pam smiled confidently and nodded, before heading for the phone. Eric mirrored her cocksure smile, but inside he was praying that his confidence was not misplaced.
Please, please Thor, let my titillating, nude vampire calendar have sold more copies than Pam's. Please.
V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V
"And so," Maxwell Lee said, using his telescopic pointer to focus attention on the color key for the graph he was presenting. "As you can see, overall, the female vamp calendar outsold the male calendar eight to seven. Having done some market research I believe many consumers found Pam's glossy, high-end calendar with the erotic yet very artistic shots to be of a superior quality, and in particular-"
"What?" Eric said from behind his desk, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Sir?"
"I think you made some sort of mistake."
Pam crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in the chair beside him.
"No, I'm sorry sheriff but I was very meticulous, as you both asked me to be. This is absolutely correct, right down to the last unit. It was a very profitable venture, though, as I can demonstrate here." He flipped a page on his chart. "In the first month alone we saw profits of-"
"Have you double checked the figures?" Eric interrupted.
"Yes, of course."
Eric let out a little groan, and rubbed at his temple.
"Triple? Perhaps you could get an outside agency to do some sort of independent verification."
"Oh come on," Pam scoffed. "Just accept it. You lose."
"I never lose, Pam," Eric said, turning to her. Sensing trouble, Maxwell Lee started gathering up his flipchart and pens, and hurried out the door. "You must have cheated."
"I certainly did not. I can account for every single unit sold."
"I've been distracted with the takeover."
Pam turned her body towards him in her seat.
"I was distracted too, I had to do all the running around for Felipe," she said, waving a hand. "And I had the crispy leg after Rhodes. I was out of action for days."
Eric rolled his head on his shoulders.
"Oh, you always go on about how crispy your leg was. You had extra time at your nest to flog your wares over the internet, while I was here holding the fort."
"Stop making excuses. You lost. You lose."
She made an 'L' shape with her thumb and forefinger, and brought it to her forehead, and mouthed 'loser'.
Eric sighed heavily and sat back in his chair.
"That's a backwards 'L', Pam. If you're going to mock me then please make the effort to get it right, otherwise you're just embarrassing yourself."
She swapped hands and repeated her action.
"I would still like a recount," Eric muttered.
"You know what this means."
Eric shook his head.
"Not happening, Pam."
"The moobs."
"Absolutely not."
"Bill's moobs."
"Not possible."
"Your tongue."
"No fucking way."
"Bill's hairy moobs."
"Stop it!"
Eric pushed at the chair she was sitting on and tipped her over in it. Pam reacted quickly and rose to her feet before she hit the floor. She casually dusted herself down and walked to the door, a little extra shimmy in her strut. She stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned her head.
"Moobs," she whispered.
Eric flung his telephone at her, and she dodged it.
"You are too honorable to renege on the bet, and you know I always follow through when I lose." She gave him a fangy grin. "I'll leave you to ponder upon your forfeit."
She floated out the door, ducking out of the way of a hole punch before closing it behind her.
Eric closed his eyes, calmed himself, and tried to think of some way to get out of the dire situation. He never lost bets, in fact losing at anything was almost unheard of for him, but Pam appeared to have won this one fair and square. He knew he should have made every month Eric month, rather than using pictures of Clancy and Maxwell Lee and Gerald and all those other hopelessly unappealing, frankly quite laughable minions in their terrible thongs and leather chaps. Well, it was done now.
He slowly and reluctantly picked up the phone, and dialed with a heavy heart.
"This is Bill Compton, I can't take your call at the moment, but please leave a message with your number and I'll get back to you. If you would like any information about my vampire database, please email me at bill dot compton at gmail dot com, or visit my website at www dot bill's vampire database dot com. If this is Pam prank calling me again, please be aware that I am keeping copies of your messages as well as notes and the authorities will be contacted in due course. Thank you."
Beep.
"Bill, I need you at Fangtasia this evening." He screwed up his eyes and forced himself to continue. "There is something very important I need to... discuss with you. Be here at 12:30."
Eric hung up and stared at the wall so hard he wondered if the plaster might crack under the force of his glare. Fuck the takeover, this was a true test of his bravery and honor.
He looked at the 40 page in-depth report Maxwell Lee had prepared about the calendar sales, picked it up and flicked through the pages. As always, everything was beautifully presented, succinct, and informative.
Eric locked onto one paragraph, leaned in, and re-read it with greater attention. He read through some more of the pages, and cracked a smile.
So Pam won fair and square, did she? Oh really? She was in so much trouble.
V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V
Bill turned up right on time. Pam brought him into the office, before she sat herself down on a seat in the middle of the room. As Bill stood there, she looked over at Eric, grinned, and rubbed her hands together, eagerly anticipating the show.
"I need to discuss something very important with you, Bill," Eric said somberly.
"Yes?"
"Hmm. I need to let you know that the king was very displeased with your musical talents. He'll be expecting to see an improvement, on his next visit."
"Yes, sheriff. I'm already working my way through Barbara Striesand's back catalog."
"And Christina Aguilera?"
"Already done."
"Good."
They all sat there quietly for a few moments. Pam just kept smiling.
"Will there be anything else?" Bill said, with a sigh.
"Do a naked dance for Pam."
"What?"
Bill was clearly startled by Eric's request, and Pam sat up straighter in her chair.
"This is an official order from your superior. Take off your clothes, and lapdance for Pam. It's her turnday."
"What?" Pam shrieked.
"This is my gift to you. It's been 141 years today since I turned you. Take it off, Compton."
Pam looked at him, mouth agape, and Bill remained completely still, apart from his eyes which were shifting around uncontrollably as he tried to work out what was going on and whether Eric was serious or not.
"Turning day?" Pam said. "We haven't celebrated turning day since my 100th. And anyway, it's the end of December, you turned me in the Spring."
Eric shook his head.
"I don't think so. Bill, I don't see you stripping erotically for Pam, why is that?"
"But..."
"Don't do this," Pam pleaded.
"Hmm?"
"It's wrong."
"Oh come on, it'll be fun. Bill will make it quite a treat for you, I'm sure."
"Eric, I..." Bill struggled to find the words. "I don't think I can..."
"You wouldn't be disobeying a direct order from your sheriff, would you? Because you are already teetering on a fine edge with our king, after your terrible organ performances. You have no queen to hide behind now."
Bill pouted, and Pam looked at her master with sad, almost tearful eyes.
"I'm not very... rhythmic," Bill said.
"Just do it," Eric said with a sigh.
"Eric, please," Pam whispered.
"Sit back and enjoy."
Bill stood there, shifting on his feet hesitantly, until Eric nodded. He slowly reached up and began fumbling with the buttons of his perfectly pressed beige shirt.
"This isn't funny," Compton said, revealing some of his chest hair.
"Oh God," Pam groaned, covering her eyes.
"No, it isn't," Eric said. "It's not funny at all. Open your eyes, Pam. You need to fully appreciate your gift."
As Bill finished unbuttoning his shirt and began to undo his belt, Eric realized how quiet the office was, and wished he'd put some music on. He thought about humming a tune, but that would have just been even more embarrassing. All he could hear was the quiet shuffling of material and skin as Bill undressed awkwardly, along with Pam's tiny whimpers of despair.
It truly was a most uncomfortable scene.
Bill popped the button of his slacks and did a sort of shaky hip move. Oh God, was he beginning to get into it? Pam let out a little cry.
"This isn't a gift, Eric. It's a terrible, terrible punishment. What have I done? Aren't you the one who's supposed to be in this position?"
Bill stopped jiggling his hips.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Eric shook his head.
"Nothing. And there is no need to remove your pants. Just get your hairy man... chest in Pam's face. Wiggle a bit."
Bill huffed, but knew he had little choice in the matter. Eric could tell that even though Compton knew he was shaming himself, on some level he was also turning the tables on Pam, taking pleasure in getting revenge for all those prank calls she had been making.
Bill let the shirt fall to the floor and stepped forward, and Pam leaned right back in her chair, trying to reclaim some distance. When she closed her legs together tightly, Bill straddled them, and preceded to thrust a bit.
Pam closed her eyes, stuck her bottom lip out and wailed.
"Mercy! Please master!"
Eric was almost ready to put an end to the shameful display, but she needed to be taught her lesson.
"Get your nipples right in her face," Eric muttered, before clenching his fist and bringing it to his mouth, turning his head away. It was too horrendous to watch.
Bill leaned forward and thrust a pec at Pam, almost brushing her cheek, before pulling back. He gave her a wink and gave one of his moobs a playful squeeze.
"My eyes! My eyes!" Pam cried.
"Alright, Compton," Eric said firmly. "That's enough!" Bill immediately retreated, and seemed suddenly embarrassed at how much he'd been enjoying himself. He picked up his shirt and quickly slipped it back on.
"How could you?" Pam said, turning to her maker. "You were the one who lost the bet. You are the one who should have been getting up close and personal with Bill's titties, not me, remember?"
"Is this another one of your childish little games?" Bill droned. "Another silly bet?"
"No," Eric sighed, rolling his eyes. "I really wanted to give my child the gift of your erotic, sensuous dancing. Of course it was a fucking bet!"
"Which you lost!" Pam screamed.
"You cheated!"
"I'm leaving now," Bill said, grabbing his manbag.
"Good," Pam and Eric said simultaneously. "Oh, and Bill," Eric added. "That was the most terrible lapdancing I've ever seen. Truly wretched."
Bill flicked back his manbangs, gritted his teeth and left without another word.
"Eric, that was absolutely evil. I need to give my eyes a waterbath with bleach and I'm likely to wake up from my daytime rest screaming for weeks on end. Why? Why?"
"Because, after reading Maxwell Lee's comprehensive and very informative report, I stumbled upon some very interesting and quite disturbing inconsistencies with the calendar sales."
Pam took a moment to digest that sentence.
"Inconsistencies?"
"Inconsistencies, yes. For example, did you know that we were out of stock of my calendar for a whole two weeks when a delivery van went missing under quite mysterious circumstances?"
Pam stared at him, wide-eyed in shock. She'd been rumbled. She knew it.
"Mysterious circumstances?"
"Hmm. I did a little extra research on this one. A delivery driver was found wandering around the back of the Toys R Us next door, apparently with some memory problems and no understanding of why he was there. The only visible sign of any physical damage was what appeared to be a small bruise on his butt cheek, perhaps similar to that which might be made when someone gets kicked in the ass with a stiletto heel. It was on the news."
"Really?"
"Turned out he had been due to deliver some boxes here, but he had no recollection of it, and there was no sign of the merchandise, either, even after his van was recovered in the woods."
Pam brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth.
"Oh, that's terrible."
"It is."
"I have no idea what this has to do with me."
"I understand that there were a number of offers available for those who bought your calendar. Such as a prize draw where the winner would get to spend an evening getting dominated by Thalia."
"Um..."
"Buy a calendar and get two free drinks," Eric read. "Buy a calendar and get bitten by Felicia." He looked up and fixed his gaze on his child. "Buy a calendar or else you might get drained."
"Who said that?" Pam said, feigning surprise. "That's disgraceful slander!"
"Someone who Maxwell Lee contacted for feedback. And here's another interesting one. Penny Friedman, 27, housewife, said, and I quote: I wanted to buy one with that big blonde male vampire in it, but the long blonde-haired lady vamp," Eric looked up from the paper and stared at Pam for a moment, before continuing, "who was at the booth said they were out of stock. I said I'd just take a keyring instead, and she said I should buy the other calendar with the female vamps in it. When I declined, she stared at me, and the next thing I knew I was in the parking lot, with three of the calendars, which I'd apparently paid for, since I had a receipt which had a little note scribbled on it saying, 'thank you for your patronage. Enjoy the dazzling beauty that January has to offer'. I never did remember what happened."
Eric tossed the report back on his desk and smiled at Pam, who crossed her arms and shook her head.
"That's absolute nonsense."
"Weren't you Miss January, Pam?"
"I wasn't cheating."
"Glamoring? Alcohol and kinky incentives? Threats of violence, perhaps even death? Interception and destruction of my stock? I disagree."
"But Bill dancing! The close proximity of those moobs to my beautiful, flawless skin. You can be a ruthless bastard."
"Don't fuck with me again, Pam. You know I will always catch you. Next time he will go down to his underpants."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't force my hand into such dire actions, and there will be no need for you to worry about getting up close and personal with Bill's smalls."
Pam shook her head a little.
"It was awful. I need to shower. I'm going home."
"Fine."
"I can't believe you had Bill lapdance for me."
"Get over it," Eric said. "He hardly got naked, and you didn't even have to touch him, let alone taste those moobs. You should be glad you got off so lightly."
Pam turned at the door.
"It was truly frightening. I don't think I ever... It was just horrific."
"It was," Eric agreed. "Let's never use Bill's man breasts against each other ever again. The stakes are just too high, and the outcome is simply too tragic for everyone. And let's never speak of what happened here this evening. It's just too... weird."
Pam nodded, and went home to scrub herself clean from the horrendous, nightmarish thoughts of Bill's hairy man boobs.
A/N: I feel I should apologise about the Bill lapdancing incident. I hope no one was traumatised. Please, don't have nightmares.
I was very honoured to hear that one of the lovely Fangreaders recommended Fangtasia Stories for one of the readalong/chat nights, which is scheduled for tomorrow. So tomorrow night (Friday 4th March) from 9pm GMT (4pm EST) I'll be in the Fangreaders chatroom where I've been invited along to babble about the story and answer questions and suchlike. If you aren't already signed up and fancy joining in then send please an e-mail to fangreaders(at)gmail(dot)com and Fairyblood will send you your personal link to the chatroom. Or visit fangreaders(dot)blogspot(dot)com for any additional information. I'd love to see you there! Please drop by and say hi! Otherwise I might end up talking to myself and that would just be embarrassing : )