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Had Nyx concerned herself just a tad more with other people, she may have remembered that she and the leader of the Ishak had scheduled a meeting for tonight, but since when had Nyx followed a schedule? So, when the sun had set, she’d risen, not even bothering to change from her mesh babydoll top and lacy black g-string and had gone out in search of something to snack on. She’d found what she wanted with a human who found it fun to take blood from the rest of her clientele. She seduced him quickly, and it had been painfully easy. Then, just as she always did, she lured him upstairs and had fed upon him.

Tonight, it had been a bit bloodier than usual. Besides being hungry, Nyx was also painfully lacking in bed satisfactory bed partners, and had been for quite a while. This was enough to make her grumpy, so, while she’d given him the illusion of pleasuring her and being in control, she’d ripped off his head and let his warm blood wash over her and her sheets. From the severed neck, she’d drunken her fill, and then let the body drop to the side, giving it a swift kick under her bed.

The resulting smell of blood has left her all giddy inside, and she’d rolled her almost naked body over her sheets, letting the rapidly cooling liquid rub all over her body. Eventually though, she’d given a cute yawn and curled up in the middle of her bed, one hand over her head and sleeping peacefully. Sometime during her catnap, she’d pulled her black silk sheet over her, making her pale skin seem to almost glow, and her red hair to look like the blood she was stained with.

She hadn’t even been aware she had been sleeping when a small noise – a gasp, the logical part of her brain shoved at her – had caused her eyes to flick open, and those daunting green eyes to stare at the man who had entered her room. Whether it was the blood that still lingered on her sheets, or just the residual arousal that was left after her earlier escapade, the man excited her, and Nyx decided that if he wasn’t anyone too important, she wouldn’t kill him right away. Hell, if he tasted as good as he looked – and she didn’t necessarily mean blood – she might have to keep him.

Sitting up with grace that would make a cat proud, she crawled over to the end of the bed and looked at him through her lashes, only half aware of the dominating aura she was sending out; how her creamy thighs led straight into the region that many a man would want to explore, or how the small nipples of her peach sized breasts seemed to be like beacons from under the black lace of her top. She cocked her head at him for a moment, and her face did not reveal her inner thoughts.

Suddenly, it occurred to her who this man was and she smiled devilishly at her, the barest hint of her fangs showing. “Welcome Mr Ishak Leader,” she said, her voice both teasing and seductive. One long, pale leg slid off the side of the bed, and then the other, until she was standing right before him. With a stride that would make the most wild of panthers proud, she began to circle him, wondering what his flesh would feel like if she were to rip it. “Forgive my rudeness. Please,” she continued, gesturing to a chair, “help yourself.”

There was a double meaning to this last phrase, and anyone who was even remotely attracted to Nyx would begin to wonder if it was what they suspected it could be.

If his body had been capable of dying, Anton would have sworn at that moment in time that he had somehow passed on and slipped through the cracks to reach the mythical heaven of Christian lore. Well, save the fact that the angel in this little picture was clad like a siren and covered in blood. The mortal equivalent, Anton reasoned, would be finding some absolutely breath taking, stunning movie-actress coated in chocolate, or some coveted food of the like. At any rate, the Ishak leader was more over whelmed with adoration, fear and respect than he had been since his mother died. For a moment, he could only stare. While most men in his position would begin silly small talk, or start spouting tasteless bits of innuendo, Anton offered the most polite words he could summon.

“My name is Anton Vladimir, Ms. Nyx. Please, call me Anton.”

Although it ashamed him, he had already decided to establish a bit of trust. After all, how could he beg her to use all of the wonderful little instruments of pain she had collected if she did not trust him? Anton sometimes hated his ulterior motives, but at the same time, could not help them. This woman, if she could even be classified as something as simple as that, was the most stunning sort he had ever seen. She oozed sex appeal, and even more importantly, dominance. He could imagine the pleasure to be derived from this leader’s control…it made him shudder, which he tried to disguise as he took a seat.

His pale eyes flitted about the room, alighting on random objects, most of which made his skin tingle in anticipation of pain. Agony was one of his favorite things, obviously, if not his most favorite. It provided so very many things that he needed, more than blood, more than life itself. It gave him a clearer head, reverie, relief, and most of all, repentance. Anton breathed in, the scent of blood arousing his more primal senses. He had fed already, but a little extra never hurt anything…But, alas. This blood was long dead, and out of his reach. Oh, well. He mused. He still had one very live, very dominant lady to deal with. And he wasn’t about to waste his time upset over spilled blood.

“So, Ms. Nyx…I…am very pleased to meet you.”

Nyx smiled at him, and by all accounts, it was a charming smile, even with her fangs there, yet under this, there was a hint of sensuality that seemed to go into everything that she did. Running a hand through her hair that was somewhat stiff with blood, she walked to him, her bare feet making only the slightest scuffling sound on the black wood floor. Instead of shaking his hand like normal people would have done, she brought one nail to his cheek and gave it a slight scratch barely even leaving a mark. With a wink, she turned away and to the closet.

“Please, Anton,” she said, saying his name like it was something exotic, “just Nyx. I’m not married, I’m not in a relationship, and I’m not an old crone.” She threw another smile over her shoulder, a larger one, this time portraying her fangs. Her green eyes glittered mischievously. “I’m pleased to meet you as well Anton, though sorry I greeted you like I did.” Throwing open the closet, a look of consideration came over her face. Her eyes turned once again to him. “You don’t mind if I change do you?”

Did Nyx wait for an answer? Of course not. This was her club, her room, and she made the rules. If he didn’t like it, he could get the hell out. He’d miss a good party, but Nyx didn’t like sticks in the mud.

Peeling off her top, she stood almost completely naked, on hand on her hip. Her small breasts were pert, and moved with her as she leaned forward and plucked out a dress. It was black vinyl and tied up in the back and the front. Ripping the back loose, Nyx climbed in and tightened it as best as she could, the material clinging to her skin like it belonged there. With a devious smile came over her face as a thought occurred to her.

With that telltale sway of her hips she walked over to the Ishak leader and kneeled before him slightly, her back to him. “Would you mind? I want it tight.” The last word was accentuated, and left no room for nonsense.

((This is from school. If I get caught…eheheh. ^.^))


Vampires, of course, were not human. They were something greater, something more advanced, and that was especially important to the coven Ishak. However, like any old animal, Anton felt he had suddenly gone into some form of heat. If he had possessed the ability to sweat, or flush, he was sure he would be doing both excessively. His privilege struck him as he drunk in the sight of the kneeling nymph, and he nearly closed his eyes in bliss. So close, he was, to his old life…back in Russia. Anton knew beyond shadow of a doubt that he should not indulge, and he should not become involved with a woman as dangerous as this Nyx. But he knew many, many things. And he allowed these inhibitions to be lost in the swirl of his thoughts.

“As you wish….”

Reaching a marble-esque hand, Anton hesitated. How would she react? Most certainly, he hoped that she would take control of this situation as soon as possible. Perhaps, he considered, if he gave her reason enough, she would decide to punish him with one of those little devices of torture so readily at hand. But there inlay the real question: what would anger her – playfully, and not awake her more carnal Tarepha tendencies. Even though Anton sought pain like most sought oxygen or blood, he didn’t want to wind up like the poor gentleman beneath her bed. Perhaps…with enough prowess…he could manage.

With the silence and silkiness of a shadow, Anton grasped the cords that would bind the back of the dress. However, rather than tying them, he gently moved them aside. Brushing some of the other leader’s bright red locks over her shoulder, he slipped his finger tips inside the confines of the dress, minding his nails on the material. Her back was pale, and flawless, quite unlike he thought of his own as being. After a moment or so of tracing the curves of her spine, he ventured to cares her ribs, and then withdrew his hands. He couldn’t press this. But oh, it had been something close to heaven.

Without another word, he took the thin strands of black back in his hands, and using his skill in tying his own, quickly laced and tied the dress. He himself was a huge lover of ridiculously tight apparel, so he had no aversion to granting the same pleasure to Nyx. However, he was sure her motivation was quite different. She seemed the type, as most Tarepha were, who simply wanted to see him squirm. And of course, as most Tarepha were famous for, she got her way with little to no effort. The very atmosphere of the room, when in conjunction with her choice of clothing, toys, victims and movements had captivated Anton. Now, painfully hard, the vampire could only wait for her to take ‘revenge’…or, more likely, simply kill him.

It would be a good death.

Even had she not been waiting for that particular smell to come around, there would be no missing it. It wafted through the room, only serving to feed her own arousal, and she wondered if he could smell hers as she could smell his. Either way, it didn’t matter. She waited for his hands to tighten her dress, and so when she felt his cold hands on her back, stroking it oh so softly before moving to her ribs, she couldn’t help the small gasp of pleasure and surprise.

This vampire leader was getting all the more complex by the second. While Nyx felt that she had already discovered his weakness – and it was the same as hers, though the particulars seemed to differ – she wondered what kind of game player he’d be. Already she could tell that she’d be the top, but just how far could she push him before he snapped and started to ravage her. It wasn’t usually a game that she played with other vampires, but this one was special. Never had she had another coven leader so close and so interesting.

A small smirk crossed her face. She’d have to play all her cards, and wait for him to lose control. It wouldn’t be that hard, or she hoped not. She wanted to get right to the punishment, to see how he’d react to her… techniques and to see what he’d do with her.

Straightening, she relished in the pressure on her torso. Throwing a devilish smile at him, along with a flick of her hair, she took a seat in a chair opposite to him. She crossed her legs, and took one of her favourite toys from a table next to her where some were situated haphazardly. Her favourite?

A cat of nine tails of course.

The hand grasping the handle stroked it with slow movements of the forefinger. The other hand weaved itself through the long whips, an intense look on her face. Still, she offered Anton a polite smile and went to business… almost.

“So, darling, why exactly are we having this little meeting? Have you come to meet the big bad ass Nyx?” She chuckled, closing her eyes slightly, before looking at him with an expression that was both suspicious and playful. “Or have you just come to play? If that’s the case, I suppose I should warn you.” She leaned forward slightly. “I play hard.”

Inside, she was cackling. If her heart were still fully functional, it would have been beating a million beats a minute by now. She wanted this man for a multitude of reasons, a few of the key ones being: she wanted to seduce another coven leader, he was too handsome to pass up, by God, she wanted someone powerful inside her, and he seemed appreciate her toys.