Benoit and Darci sat at a large round table after the wedding ceremony had concluded. The vows had been said in the king’s mansion, but now the reception was outside in the fresh night air with a full moon lighting the area. The light wasn’t necessary; everyone in attendance was able to see in the dark. The full moon was simply tradition for a royal wedding.
Benioit and Darci had arrived to the ceremony just as it had begun so they had taken a seat in the back, apart from their respective parents. Now they waited for family and friends to join them outside.
Benoit looked around at the beautiful setup. There was a large bouquet of white roses on each table. The tablecloths were made of silk with woven flower patterns throughout. Then Benoit looked at the Bride and Groom’s table. To Benoit’s surprise their tables weren’t too far away. The king’s and Benoit’s families were much closer in relation than Benoit liked to think. Too close. The king’s table, for instance was only a few tables away. Benoit decidedly looked away from that area.
Every now and then a vampire or two would come to their table and Benoit always gave a short, but polite greeting. Darci greeted everyone like they were good friends; maybe they were. She talked and laughed with them about times Benoit knew nothing about.
When almost everyone was in their seats, Darci sat down and sighed. “Socializing can be so tiresome sometimes.”
Benoit mentally agreed, but gave Darci a look.
“What, you think I actually want to talk to distant relatives I barely even know? Like, why should I care what my great Uncle did while on vacation in Hong Kong? That was a century ago. I’m just a good conversationalist…unlike you who looks like you’d rather be dead than say hello to your own relatives.”
“I talk with close relatives,” he said. “Besides, I don’t know everyone like you do.”
“You’ve never tried to know anyone. You were a hermit from the day you were born. It’s a miracle I even met you that day.”
Benoit nodded. It had been a miracle. Benoit had always been out of sight when visitors came to the house, especially in those days.
“Oh? Are we reminiscing?” came the jovial voice of a young-looking woman. She seemed to be about 30 and had a slim figure, a heart-shaped face, and short caramel colored hair with blond highlights. She quickly put her arms around Benoit from behind, hugging him before he could stand from his seat. She kissed his cheek.
“Mother,” he greeted her affectionately. He turned and kissed her cheek as well. He looked her over. “You dyed your hair again,” Benoit tried not to let any emotion leak into his voice. It was an easy task after so many years of practice.
“You know your mother, she can’t keep it the same for more than a few decades,” came the warm, yet crisp voice of Benoit’s father. The man was tall with high cheekbones. His black hair was as long as Benoit’s and in a lose ponytail down his back. Benoit got a lot of his features from the man.
Benoit greeted his father and the two newcomers sat themselves at the table.
“Darci, shouldn’t you be sitting at your family’s table?” Benoit’s dad asked, pointing to a table fairly far away.
“No that’s alright, Monsieur Bouthillette. I’ve already told my parents that I would be sitting next to my favorite cousin,” she said.
“Well, as long as they’re okay with it. We’re always happy to have you around,” the man said in a kind voice.
“Oh Darci,” Benoit’s mom said, “How did you get your eyes to change color? Was it a potion?” Darci’s eyes were the same purple color as the highlights in her hair. Not at all like the silver-blue eyes of a vampire.
“No, the humans have invented these little lenses that cover the eye. They come in all kinds of colors. Aren’t they fantastic? I put them in while me and Benny were in the car, right Benoit?”
Benoit ignored her and looked at his father. The man was smiling at him. Neither one of the men were inclined to join the conversation about fashion. Benoit gave a small smile back.
“Dear, you must tell me where you got them. I think a light brown would look very good on me.”
Their table was soon joined by Benoit’s Grandfather. The man was very old and yet he appeared to be no older than his daughter. “Eulalie,” he greeted her and kissed her cheek. Then he turned to Benoit’s father. “Sinclair, it’s good to see you again.” The two shook hands. Benoit stood to greet the man, but Louise Vinet was already sitting down. Benoit sat back down. Darci squeezed his hand under the table. She must have seen some bit of discomfort on his very well-crafted mask of calm.
Once all the guests were seated, servants, probably the bitten, brought wine bottles to the tables. Each table had four bottles. Benoit looked at the labels. The first had the number 15 and below that an ‘MF’. Below the ‘MF’ was an ‘A-’. Below the ‘A-’ were the numbers 1672. The blood was from a 15 year old magic female with type A- blood. It was bottled in 1672.
Benoit didn’t much care for old vintages. He preferred blood be as young and fresh as possible. Though many vampires liked the way blood tasted in different time periods. Apparently 1672 was a good year. The king wouldn’t have given a family as noble as theirs a bad year.
Benoit looked at another bottle. This one read: 40, MM, AB, 1980. A middle-aged male. Benoit would never understand why some vampires liked the taste of humans that old.
The next bottle read: 7, MF, O-, DO. That was the one. DO stood for ‘Day Of’. It meant that the blood was bottled that day. Benoit poured himself a glass. He watched Darci take the same bottle when he was done. His father drank from the 15 year old in 1672 while his mother chose the only bottle Benoit hadn’t read. He heard her give a small chuckle and passed him the bottle. “I’m surprised you didn’t take this one,” she said.
Benoit read the bottle. A three year old bottled today. He sighed and knew he would be filling his cup with that one next.
About an hour into the celebration, the party got very quiet. Benoit had been having a conversation with his mother when they both turned their heads to see what was going on.
Benoit saw two people covered head to toe in silver hooded cloaks, one taller than the other. They made their way toward the prince’s table. They pulled a wagon with three white barrels inside. Benoit got a better look at the two when they passed by his table. The hoods covered their faces, but their hands were visible as they pulled the wagon. Their hands were not the snowflake-white hands of vampires. No. These hooded people’s hands resembled a human’s. Benoit couldn’t believe humans had been invited to a vampire wedding. Were they slaves? No. There people walked with confidence.
They stopped in front of Prince Emeril La Cour’s table and presented the barrels to him. The two didn’t say a word. They just stood behind the wagon and bowed their heads. Benoit watched the prince and his new bride stand. Then, surprisingly, Prince Emeril and his wife bowed to the odd cloaked humans. They continued to bow as the humans turned and walked back the way they’d come. They left the three barrels behind. When they passed Benoit again, the man saw that the two had long tails peeking out from under their cloaks. The smaller one had a tail with white feathers while the taller one had black feathers. Their tails dragged on the grass as they walked.
All eyes were on the retreating pair as they walked out of sight. When they were gone, the prince and his bride sat back down. The conversations resumed.
“Who were—” Benoit tried to ask, but his grandfather hushed him.
“Hush! Do not speak of them! It is not your place.”
“It’s best not to talk about them right now,” Benoit’s father said in a much kinder manner.
And the party continued.
♦ ♦ ♦
Earlier that night, Mikael Marion had gone to see Corin and Aldrick in their room.
“Is the potion ready to go?” He asked them.
It was Corin who answered. “Should be.” He showed Mikael the phial of pink liquid.
“Those ingredients were not easy to come by and cost me quite a lot. It better be a success.”
“Oh it will be,” he said. “This is the darkest impregnation potion known to wizard kind. This stuff could even get a five year old boy with a severed rectum pregnant,” he laughed.
“Aldrick?” Mikael asked the quiet man.
“Yeah, it’ll work,” he said simply.
“Good, I’ve spent too much time and money researching this. I even went with you two to purchase the most expensive ingredients. I had to leave my precious fuck slave for over a week.”
“At least it’s done now. Soon the little shit’s stomach will be swelling up like a balloon.”
“How exactly does it work?” Mikael asked. “I know that it creates some kind of womb inside him, but how does it all work? How many times do I need to come inside him?”
“The potion works like a curse. It will infect his body, grow a womb, and the next time a person comes inside him, the potion will force the new womb to accept the seed and make him pregnant,” Aldrick explained.
“How long do I have to wait after I feed him the potion?”
“To fuck him? It should only take a few minutes. Give it half an hour to be safe,” Corin said.
That night, Mikael had the potion added to the boy’s supper. He watched the boy eat his milk porridge with a smile on his face knowing that a womb was quickly growing inside him. He told the boy to come to him in an hour. That was plenty of time. When his boy slut finally showed up, Mikael kissed him deeply and told the boy how much he loved him.
Harry Potter was about to get pregnant with his child, a squib’s child. He couldn’t wait to see the boy’s stomach grow. He would start telling the boy that he was getting fat and how he needed to try harder to keep up his girlish figure. When the baby bump was big enough he’d give the boy the news. He’d tell they boy that he was going to be a mommy. He couldn’t wait to see the boy’s large stomach in his school girl outfit. He would tell the boy to lie to his teachers. The boy would tell everyone that he was pregnant because he was a little slut with a hole hungry for cock. That he was a bad girl who seduced older men when he snuck out of his dear papa’s house late at night, how he whores himself out for a quick fuck.
The mediwitch would ask him what he thought they should do. He’d tell them that an abortion was out of the question. That ‘she’ was too far along. They would respect his wishes. Helen would give birth in his home. He would attend school by day and come home to take care of Mikael’s child at night. The baby would need a sitter during the day.
Mikael was pulled from his thoughts when he came inside the child that night. He quietly urged his little sperm cells onward to their goal. He turned the child over so that he was on his back. He placed a hand on the boy’s flat stomach.
“Tell me how much you love me, Helen,” he said.
“I love you so much Papa.” The child had tears running down his cheeks at the brutal fucking he’d just received, but his words were genuine.
♦ ♦ ♦
As Papa rubbed his stomach, Harry wondered what Benoit was doing. Was he having fun at the wedding? Harry wished he could have gone with him. He felt a sense of unease now that the butler wasn’t in the mansion. Harry couldn’t figure out why. He loved Benoit, but he still had Papa, Dru, and all the rest. Why was he suddenly so lonely?
Harry felt a pain in his shoulder blades and tailbone again. Were these growing pains?
Harry left Papa’s room a little while later but decided not to go back to his own room. He wanted to be near Benoit and since that was impossible; he did the next best thing. Harry walked down to the basement. On his way, Harry passed Dru. It was odd. The hallway where Harry had passed him only led to one room: Benoit’s bedroom. What was the man doing down there?
Harry made his way down the hallway and opened the door at the very end. He walked down the stone steps and opened the door at the bottom. Benoit’s room was dark and cold. Harry turned on the light. It did little to give the room warmth. The room wasn’t physically cold, it just looked empty, like it hadn’t been lived in for a very long time.
Harry looked at the books, it helped make the place homey, but not by much. Harry opened the large heavy lid of the coffin. Of course it was empty. Harry stared at the comfortable red bedding within. If he got in, could he pretend that Benoit was with him? Harry’s tailbone hurt again when he shifted to get inside the coffin. Harry lay inside and closed the lid. The coffin was very comfortable and Harry started to drift off.
Just then, Harry’s stomach hurt. The boy groaned and tried to find a different position, but the pain wouldn’t go away. His stomach hurt so bad that he felt tears sting his eyes. He wished more than ever that Benoit was home. The man would fix whatever was wrong. Benoit always fixed him. Always. In every single way. Harry drifted to sleep as the pain in his stomach receded.
♦ ♦ ♦
Toward the end of the party, a servant came over to Benoit’s table and told him that the prince kindly requested his presence. Benoit looked over to the prince’s table, but the man was nowhere to be seen.
The servant bowed and said, “Please follow me, Count Bouthillette of Prairie D’argent.”
Benoit followed the woman into the mansion. She led him to the cellar. The cellar was well furnished with a large red sofa and beautiful paintings on the stone walls. There were bottles and bottles of blood in wine bottles in the wooden wine shelves. There were also the three white barrels that the odd non-vampires had brought.
“The prince will be with you shortly,” she said before leaving the room.
Benoit couldn’t fathom what the prince would want to speak to him about. It was his wedding day. Did the king tell him to ask about how the mission was going? There wasn’t much to say. Why wouldn’t the king meet with him? Why was this happening at a wedding? Benoit had always received a summons delivered by a servant to discuss his mission, but meetings always took place in the king’s audience chamber. Sometimes the prince was there and sometimes he wasn’t.
Benoit stared at one of the portraits on the wall. It was of the king when he had merely been a child. The young king’s eyes looked cold. His smile seemed fake. Benoit repressed a shiver. Even back then the king would have unsettled Benoit.
Prince Emeril entered while Benoit was still staring at the portrait.
“My father was never an innocent sort of child, was he?”
Benoit startled. He quickly stood and bowed. “Your royal highness,” he greeted.
The prince scratched his chin. “Be at ease.” Then the man sat on the couch. “Come, sit,” he said, in clearly good spirits.
Prince Emeril was a very handsome man. He had long, slightly wavy black hair, and a goatee. He was a little shorter than Benoit, but his outward appearance read as early-twenties, a human might think he was twenty-two or twenty-three. His body had defiantly stopped aging though. Benoit’s body had only recently stopped aging as well. Benoit would look the age he was now, like he was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, until the day he died.
And vampires did die. They were not the undead immortals that humans thought them as. They were magical creatures who were born, grew old, and died of old age when their time came, just like any human. They could even succumb to various diseases.
The only difference was their incredibly long lifespans and the fact that their body stopped aging at a certain point. The outward appearance of a vampire will stop changing as they age and the point when that happens is different for all vampires. It is most common to stop aging in a vampire’s late twenties through their thirties. Late thirties is a little odd and forties is very rare. Sometimes a vampire will contract a disease, and that can affect when aging stops and they may reach their forties or even fifties before they stop ageing.
A vampire’s body will still continue to age even after they have ‘stopped ageing’. Their appearance will remain the same, but they are still getting older. That’s why they still die of old age. A vampire on his death bed may look like he is only thirty-three years old, but in reality his heart is too old to continue living.
Prince Emeril was very lucky to look so young. The younger you are the more innocent you appear to the humans. It makes hunting easier, not that the prince ever hunts for his own food.
His father, though…King Thierry looked like he was forty. He had wrinkles in his forehead. Benoit wondered if the man had gone though some sort of illness growing up. Benoit had intentionally tried to avoid looking at the man this night, but no doubt the king sported his usual large bun at the top of his head. He even wore it on that day.
Benoit did not like meeting with the king after that day. Just thinking about it made him feel sick.
Benoit sat as far away as he could from the prince, it would be rude to sit so close to royalty, but the prince closed the distance quickly. The prince did not remind Benoit of the King. The two did not resemble each other all that much. But the prince had been there that day. He had seen everything. The prince never brought it up during the meetings Benoit had with the king and Benoit never saw the prince apart from the meetings.
They were now alone together for the first time ever. Benoit was with one of the only two people in the whole world that knew his secret. His shame. His punishment. Not the secret of his birth, as his parents, grandfather, and Darci knew of that; they knew what color his hair really was, but nobody but the king and prince knew how he had been punished on that day.
What did the prince want with him?
“It’s alright. There isn’t anyone here but us. No need to act the part of a dignified count in the presence of his prince.”
Benoit wanted to speak, to say that, that was it exactly, but the prince beat him to it.
“Don’t worry. You don’t need to act so formal. This isn’t a summons, or anything.”
“Why did you request my presence, your highness?”
The prince smiled. “I just wanted to chat.” Then he chuckled. “Though I hear you aren’t one for conversation.”
Benoit nodded.
Prince Emeril stood up and got a bottle of blood. He poured a glass and handed it to Benoit. “Here, I heard you enjoy the young,” he said.
Benoit accepted the glass and took a sip. It was good blood, probably from a four year old, though bottled many years ago.
“Do you not like old vintages?” The prince asked.
“I like anything you give me, your highness,” Benoit said respectfully.
The prince walked over to the door and rapped three times. A servant entered. “Get us fresh blood from the other room, bring something young,” he told the woman. Then he addressed Benoit. “Do you have a preference for blood type or gender?”
Benoit shook his head.
The prince sent the woman away. She returned only a moment later with a five year old boy. The human had its eyes closed and was wearing a simple white tunic and nothing else. It was led by a chain leash and collar set. The boy had his arms out in front of him like he couldn’t see. He stumbled as he was led to them. The servant removed the collar from the boy, bowed, and left the room.
“Is he blind?” Benoit asked.
“Yes, we blind all the humans we keep in the cellar. It makes them less hostile and more obedient.”
Benoit watched the boy shiver in place. Did he know his fate? Of course he did. The boy was terrified. That was odd. Benoit’s home had a cellar too, but the few humans they kept there had been fed a potion to destroy their sanity. They were brainless vegetables. They felt no pain or fear. They had no idea they were being kept as food. But this…Benoit didn’t like this. How long has this child been here? How long has he known that he was cattle?
“When was this one caught?” Benoit asked.
“Oh this?” the prince looked over at the human child. “This one wasn’t caught. This one was bred here. Some humans we catch, while others we breed. Breeding is a slow process, though it is safer.”
It wasn’t too odd to breed humans. Benoit had an uncle who did the same, but breeding humans and keeping their minds intact was just unpleasant to think about. Benoit could only imagine how Harry would react. Benoit tried not to think about the boy.
“Though sometimes,” the prince continued, “sometimes you end up with a dud. It’s rare, but just a few months ago a female gave birth to a human without magic. I believe the humans call them squibs. I could smell the lack of magic as soon as it was born; its smell lacked that special little spice.”
Benoit nodded in understanding. He’d drunk blood from a human without magic before. Their blood just wasn’t as good.
“Anyway,” the prince went on, “it happens sometimes. I threw the infant in the trash and punished its mother for giving birth to the defect.”
Benoit wondered why the man hadn’t just given the infant to one of their servants. Only the royal family and the nobles were permitted to drink from magic humans. Most vampires had to eat non-magic humans, not that they knew what they were missing. Most vampires would have jumped at the chance to eat a newborn without magic. The prince must have known that too.
Then Benoit focused on something else. “Why bother to punish the mother? Why didn’t you just eat her?”
“Oh I ate her, but I needed to punish her first. Naughty livestock need to learn their place. I punished her in front of the rest of them. I started by breaking each of her fingers. Then I moved on to her toes. Then her arms and legs. Then I shoved my hand up inside her gaping cunt and pulled out her useless womb. I bit into the small organ right in front of her. She couldn’t see of course. She was blind like the others. But I described everything I did so she’d know. I quickly drained it of blood. Then I finally bit her neck and ended her short life.”
That was the moment Benoit decided he did not like the prince. How could the man stomach to tear his food apart like that? To break its bones? To rip out its organs? Just the thought made Benoit feel ill.
Prince Emeril looked over at the shivering blind human as if he’d forgotten that it was there. The boy had heard everything the man had just said and it was more scared than ever. “Come here, little one,” Prince Emeril said in a sweet voice to the young human. The child just shivered in place. “I said come here. Have you forgotten your manners? Do you need a whipping?”
The boy shook his head and slowly walked over to the source of the voice. Benoit watched the prince lift the child and place him on his lap.
“Today is a very special day for you, isn’t it? You see my friend here decided he would like some fresh young blood. He isn’t very thirsty though. He’s been drinking blood all night. You’re just going to be a nice snack for him, alright? He’s going to eat you on a whim.”
Benoit knew that the prince got a thrill from telling the child how worthless his life was, how his life would end on a whim—for the sole purpose of a light snack. The man hadn’t lied, but was it really necessary to tell the child? Benoit tried to avoid talking to his prey at all costs. He didn’t need to concern himself with lesser life-forms. They were food and nothing else. But why torment them in this way? Why was the prince so sadistic?
Benoit saw the boy’s lower lip quiver. He could hear the child’s erratic heartbeat.
“Why don’t you ask him nicely to devour you?” Prince Emeril said. “Ask and then say thank you like you’ve been taught. Tonight is your first and last impression. Make sure it’s a good one.”
The boy turned his head this way and that but he didn’t know where Benoit was so that he could address him.
“He’s right in front of you on the other side of the couch,” the prince said.
“I’m here,” Benoit said in a monotone voice.
The boy turned his head toward him.
Benoit reached a hand out to the boy. The boy grabbed his hand in both of his very small hands and began to plead.
“Please your highness—”
“No,” the prince said in a stern voice. “He is not a prince like I am. He is a count. You will address his as Count Bouthillette of Prairie D’argent. Start again.”
The boy squeezed his hand in fear. “Please count Bouthilette of Prairie D’argent, please devour me. Eat me. Drink my blood. I’m not worthy, I’m a lowly human, but please let my blood satisfy your thirst.”
Benoit had never heard a human beg to be a vampire’s meal before. He knew the boy didn’t wish to die, but he spoke the words that he had been taught since birth. Benoit didn’t know how he felt about that. It was sick and twisted, but the words did strange things to him. He could feel venom build up in his mouth. He was eager to sink his fangs into the young flesh. Benoit leaned in to bit the child’s neck when he heard the prince say, “Wait.”
“Yes, your highness?”
Prince Emeril smiled. “Do you ever play with your food?”
Benoit blinked. “No, your highness. Of course I don’t. Playing with one’s food is taboo for someone of my station to—”
The prince removed the boy’s tunic and began teasing the child’s small prick with his thumb and index finger. “I play with my food sometimes. It’s rare, but this is a rare day. You are here, Benoit.”
“Your highness?”
The prince continued to play with the boy’s small prick until the child moaned. Then he licked his finger and worked it up into the child’s ass. The boy grunted in pain. The prince bit the boy’s ear quickly. He didn’t suck any of the child’s blood. He just inserted his fangs, then removed them.
“Did you like that, or was that not enough venom for you? Where should I bite next?”
Benoit watched the prince bite the child in three other places. They were all quick bites. It was like watching a snake strike its prey repeatedly. The boy moaned during the last bite.
“There, my venom is flowing through your veins. It feels good, doesn’t it?” The boy moaned again in response. The prince continued to finger the child’s hole. “Now drink,” he said to Benoit.
The man didn’t want to drink from the child while the prince’s finger was going in and out of his hole, but he couldn’t refuse the prince. Benoit bit down on the boy’s neck and sucked. The child’s blood was delicious. He continued to drink as the boy moaned. He wished he could shut the human up.
“Sometimes I wish you were human,” the prince whispered in Benoit’s ear. “I wonder what you would taste like.” Benoit felt a tongue lick up his neck. He stopped drinking from the boy and turned to the prince. He didn’t know what to say. What was the prince doing?
The prince sat back. “You don’t really get lost in how erotic this all is, do you?”
“Erotic?” Benoit asked.
“You don’t think drinking is erotic? It doesn’t excite you? Make you hard?”
“No.”
“Interesting. I can see that you’re telling the truth,” the prince said, staring at Benoit’s crotch. “That probably has something to do with your childhood,” he said.
Benoit looked away. The prince wasn’t really going to talk about that day, was he? But the prince didn’t say anything else. Benoit went back to his snack. He drank until the boy’s heart stopped and there was no blood left in him. Benoit put the child down on the cellar floor and licked his fangs and lips clean.
“Don’t worry, someone will clean that up later,” the prince said, motioning to the dead child. “In the meantime, why don’t we have another drink?”
“My apologies your highness, but I’m not very thirsty at the moment.” It was true, Benoit had filled himself this night.
“Ah, but there is always room for a little of this,” the prince said walking over to one of the white barrels the hooded creatures had brought. The prince opened the lid, dipped a ladle in, and poured red liquid into a wine glass. “Do you know what this is?”
“Blood.” Benoit said, very sure of himself.
The prince smiled and brought the cup over. “Smell it.”
Benoit smelled the liquid. Yes definitely blood, though it didn’t smell like any blood Benoit had ever smelled. This smelled very, very sweet. It smelled sweeter than an infant human. How was that possible?
“What is that?”
“Blood.” The prince smelled the blood in the glass and sighed. “Oh yes, I remember this smell. I smell it so rarely. This blood, only royalty is ever allowed to drink this ambrosia.” The prince paused. “Would you like to try it?”
“Your highness?”
“It’s just you and me. Nobody will know that we broke the rules. Me for giving you the drink, and you for drinking it. I just want you to have a sip, to know what it tastes like. Human blood will never be as good again after you try this Blood Wine. It will ruin you,” the man said with a sweet smile.
“Blood Wine?”
“That’s what we call it. It’s intoxicating.”
“What exactly is it?” Benoit asked, skeptically.
“Try it. Then I’ll tell you.”
Was this a trick? Benoit was apparently not allowed to drink it. Only royals could have Blood Wine. Benoit had never even heard of the stuff before. His curiosity got the better of him. He made to take the cup, but Prince Emeril held it back.
“No. Just a sip. Open your mouth.”
Benoit opened his mouth. He watched the prince tip the glass cup slightly. He watched as a small drop of blood fell from the glass.
It hit his tongue like an electric shock. Benoit gasped in surprise. He felt a spark where he had never felt one before: his cock.
It took Benoit a moment to speak. “What was that?” he asked.
“That is Blood Wine, also known as lilin blood.”
Benoit must have heard the man wrong. “Lilin blood?”
“Yup.”
“But that’s impossible. There’s a treaty. We aren’t to hunt the lilin.”
The magical creatures known as lilin, also referred to as hell birds, or succubi and incubi, were not—under any circumstances—to be hunted. The creatures classified as life drinkers, two of them, the lilin and the vampires, had made a treaty. The vampires would refrain from hunting the lilin and the lilin wouldn’t hunt the vampires. This created peace between the two species as they both resolved to only hunt humans from then on. So what was the prince doing with lilin blood?
“Most vampires know close to nothing about the treaty. You are all taught from an early age that the lilan are off-limits. That is true. Even my father is banned from hunting the lilin. But that isn’t all that the treaty says. The treaty states that the lilin need to supply the royal family with three barrels of lilin blood on certain special occasions. In turn we supply their leaders with three vampires on their special occasions. It’s a give and take, but only between the rulers of our respective species.”
“The three vampires that you send—” Benoit started to say, but the prince answered him quickly.
“They are humans that are bitten and given to the lilan a short time after they transform into vampires. The lilin don’t mind. To them a vampire is a vampire. Though the vampires do need to be between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. They have that specified in the treaty. As for our demands, the blood must be from healthy lilan that have gone through puberty. That is all. We didn’t specify an age because once a lilin goes through puberty, their blood never changes. Lilin blood before puberty isn’t as good.”
“So they could be sending you blood of old lilin that are on their deathbed?” Benoit asked.
“They probably are. It makes no difference. The drop of lilan blood you tasted, you loved it, didn’t you?”
Benoit nodded.
“Of course. It tastes like nothing else. I’ve only ever had it a few times in my life.” The man paused. “Would you like more?”
“I can’t. I’m not a royal. It isn’t meant for me to drink,” he said.
The prince smiled. “Well you sure did think you were a royal before my father punished you. Or was that your parents?”
Benoit’s blood ran cold at the prince’s words. “Your highness, as you said, my parents and I have already been punished for our transgressions.”
The prince reached over and ran a hand through Benoit’s straight black hair. “My father went too easy on you that day. The proof is sitting right here with me.” Prince Emeril smiled evilly with his young-looking face. Benoit couldn’t help thinking that the man wasn’t too much older than him. The king had waited a long time to have an heir. On the day he was punished, Benoit had been six years old. The prince had been eleven or twelve, only a five or six year difference in vampire years. Of course that was really hundreds of years apart.
“Do you wish to know a secret?” The prince continued to play with Benoit’s hair. “That day, that punishment, it was meant to be an execution. Father was surprised to learn later that you had survived.
“Maybe it was sheer force of will. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe you really thought you were next in line for the throne.”
“No,” Benoit said, quickly. “None of us thought that. Not me, not my mother, not my father, and not my grandfather. My parents hid me from the world because they were ashamed.”
Prince Emeril chuckled. “No, they hid you from the royal family. They didn’t want anyone, especially my father, to see you. To see your hair.”
Benoit remained calm. He and his family had already been punished. The prince wasn’t about to punish them again, was he? The king wasn’t even present and this wasn’t the time nor the place.
“All vampires know that only royals in line for the throne are the only ones that are ever born with silver hair. Silver hair is a sign of royalty.” The man looked toward the portrait of his father. “Though not all royals are born with silver hair. Most are not. Like me. I am Prince Emeril, heir to the vampire throne. I will succeed my father when he passes.
“Your family knew this,” he said turning back to look at Benoit. “They knew that when you were born, a mistake had been made. You were not of royal blood. The universe was wrong. You were not to be king. So then, when one makes a mistake, what should one do?”
Benoit knew the question wasn’t rhetorical. “Fix the mistake. Your father has already fixed—”
“No. Fixing is a messy word. Say a person was writing a scroll and spelled a word incorrectly. It wouldn’t do to cross out the word and write the correct spelling next to it. This is a very important scroll. The best way would be to throw the scroll you made a mistake on away and start with a fresh one. Do you understand? When you make a mistake, you delete what you did and start over. You can always try again, right?”
Benoit looked away. Vampires could not entrance other vampires, but the prince’s eyes were boring into his own. They were trying to read him. He couldn’t. Vampires couldn’t use that kind of magic. Benoit looked down at his lap anyway. His hands rested on his knees.
“Your parents should have killed you the moment they saw your silver hair. They could have tried for another child. They should have, but they didn’t. They raised you and hid you away in that house. They hid you away from the king.
“I guess some of the blame must go to my Aunt Cielle, my father’s sister and your grandmother. She shouldn’t have been born before my father. A woman cannot be the king of the vampires. And it’s because of her that the universe is confused now. Because she was born first, the universe thinks your line is the royal family. But my grandfather, the previous king, King Etiene, knew better. He gave the throne to his second born, my father. My father didn’t think his older sister’s line would ever try to start a rebellion, but I don’t know, raising a child that contradicts my grandfather’s decision seems a little rebellious to me. Maybe your parents were trying to start a revolt. What do you think?”
Benoit kept his voice calm and spoke the truth. “My parents love me very much. I believe they were scared that if the king knew of my hair, he would kill me.”
“And the king did kill you, or at least he tried. Like I said, that day you were supposed to be executed.” The man paused, thinking. “You should have known that. You should have let yourself die like the king wanted. When my father learned that you were still alive he decided to let you continue living. My father saw you as resilient. He said you would be perfect to take on your father’s role when you got older. And now my father has given you the most important mission of all time. Aren’t you lucky?”
Benoit did not feel lucky.
“I’m secretly glad that you survived your own execution. Everything changed for me that day. I remember every moment of that day, of that punishment. Just thinking about it makes me so warm. Up until that point I had never understood my own feelings. I’m gay, Benoit. I knew that when I saw you on my father’s lap. I wanted you on my lap. Your cute, virgin six-year old hole ravaged by my father’s cock was so hot.”
Benoit couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was the man saying? “You just married a woman.”
“That was nothing more than a farce. She is my wife, yes, but it’s only for appearances. I will not bed her. I only like males in my bed.” Then the man lowered his voice. “Males that remind me of you,” he whispered in Benoit’s ear.
Benoit stiffened. Not in arousal. Never in arousal. He wanted to jump from the couch and run from the room. He couldn’t. He was in the presence of the prince.
“Just the thought of you makes me hard. Tell me, how many vampires have you slept with since my father took your virginity?”
“None.”
“Humans?”
“Never.”
“Dementors?” The man laughed at his own joke. “So you haven’t been with anyone?”
“No one.”
“Mmm, your hole must be so tight then.”
“Your highness, I have never desired sexual intimacy. Not with anyone.”
“No wonder you are always so stiff and stoic. You need to relax more, Benoit. Maybe I should give you another taste of Blood Wine.”
Benoit did not know if the prince was joking or not. “I can’t. It isn’t meant for me.”
“Are you refusing a gift from your prince?”
“I don’t wish to refuse, but the treaty…I’m not allowed. If it was ever found out, your father—”
“Would punish you? Maybe you want that. It was you who sat yourself down on my father’s lap, Benoit. Did you want my father’s cock that bad? Want it still? Is that why you won’t have sex with anyone? Nobody but the king can satisfy you?”
“No, your highness. I didn’t want to. It was a punishment.”
“Yes, you were punished and then lived. You stubbornly lived on. Tell me Benoit, do you believe that the universe made a mistake? Be truthful now. Or do you think your rightful place is as a prince?”
“No, your highness. You are the prince. Not me.”
Benoit watched Prince Emeril stare at the almost full glass he still held before looking back at Benoit.
“I order you, as Prince Emeril La Cour of the Vampires, drink this Blood Wine.”
Benoit could not go against the prince now. Doing so would be treason. And if the king ever found out that Benoit drank lilin blood, that would also be seen as treason. He would be killed either way. There was no winning this. Benoit just had to hope the king never found out.
“Open your mouth,” the prince said.
Benoit did so. He closed his eyes and waited for the spark.
And then there was a waterfall of pleasure washing over him. Sparks ignited all over his body. Every sensitive place. Pleasure caressed Benoit’s cock, his balls, his nipples, everywhere. He got hard as a rock. He moaned for the first time in his life.
Benoit opened his eyes. The prince had not given him just one single drop. He was pouring the whole glass down his throat. It was amazing…fantastic…erotic.
It was erotic.
Erotic was a word Benoit had never understood before. He understood now. His body was on fire. His cock was alive. His brain was foggy and unfocused. He was drunk on sensation. On sex. He needed to touch himself. His balls. There was a tightening in his balls. He wanted to touch. Needed. Need. Come. He needed to come.
And then there was the taste.
The taste!
The blood was thin like water. It went down so quick. So sweet. Impossibly sweet. An infant. No. Something other. It was a different type of sweetness. This wasn’t human. This was not blood. This was ambrosia! God’s nectar. The juice of the apple from the tree of knowledge.
Benoit gripped the fabric of the couch. He didn’t care that his nails were ripping the cushion apart. He needed to hold on to something or he’d fall out of heaven. He’d fall off his cloud.
He needed to be touched! He needed release!
“Ahhhh,” Benoit moaned again.
The stream of Aphrodite’s heavenly blood came to a trickle, then stopped altogether. Benoit could still feel its affects, but the blinding pleasure had receded. Benoit was still hard. He breathed deeply, trying to come back to himself through the haze that his brain was in.
But then the Blood Wine was back and the sparks returned. Benoit tasted the blood before he felt soft lips on his own. After Benoit swallowed, he opened his eyes. The Prince was kissing him. He was exploring Benoit’s mouth with his tongue. And then Benoit felt the hand on his chest. His shirt had been removed and the prince was fondling one of his nipples.
Then the prince pushed Benoit down so that he was laying on the couch. The prince began unbuttoning his trousers.
“No,” Benoit said. His voice sounded very far away, like he was fainting.
“Shh, this will be fun. The Blood Wine has definitely gotten you in the mood. I knew it would work. The stuff is just that powerful. Now just relax.”
The man was able to take Benoit’s trousers off before Benoit sat up.
“Lay back down. Look how hard you are. Don’t you want me to touch it for you?”
Benoit heard the man’s words. He knew what was happening, but his mind felt sluggish. His body needed touch. His cock needed friction. But he didn’t want to be touched. Why would that be? He needed to be touched.
Benoit felt the prince’s hand on his cock, pumping it. Where was his underwear? He felt the prince maneuvering him onto the floor. He felt something solid against his lips. Benoit opened his eyes. Prince Emeril’s cock was entering his mouth, was going down his throat.
Benoit struggled. He was coming back to himself. He didn’t want this. He tried to speak, but his mouth was full. The cock reached the back of his throat and Benoit gagged. The prince eventually took his cock out and forced Benoit on his hands and knees. The man felt a slicken finger enter his hole. “No!” he screamed. The haze cleared up and Benoit shakily got to his feet.
His body still felt the last traces of pleasure, but his cock had gone flaccid.
“The effects of Blood Wine usually last a lot longer than that,” Prince Emeril said, clearly disappointed. “I was planning to fuck you all day long, until the moon came out again.”
“Your highness, that would be wrong. You’re a prince; we are cousins. My arousal was only due to the Blood Wine. I have no intention of having intercourse with anyone.”
“You know, my favorite blood, besides Blood Wine, comes from young males around the age of six,” the prince suddenly said. “I don’t usually hunt, royals aren’t supposed to. It’s too dangerous and I’m the only heir my father has. If I died, the crown would go to your family when my farther passed. Your Grandfather would be king.
“So I have to sneak out to hunt. I always capture young boys that look to be around six. I take them home and bring them to this room. Then I feed them two potions that I have a servant buy me from a human village. The potions are a hair growth potion and a hair dye potion. First I grow their hair, then I turn it black if it isn’t already. The poor boys are always so scared, I love it.
“I force them to strip for me and then—”
“Please,” Benoit interrupted. He didn’t want to hear the rest.
“I do to them what father did to you. The only difference is that I drink their blood while I fuck them. I pretend they are you, Benoit.”
Benoit hadn’t been prepared when the prince sunk his fangs deep into his neck. It hurt more than Benoit thought it would. Vampire venom did not affect vampires so there was no pleasure with the pain.
The prince took his fangs from his neck and spat Benoit’s blood into a wastebasket. “Vampire blood tastes even viler than I thought,” he said. Benoit put his clothes back on as the other man poured some Blood Wine into his glass and took a sip. “Ahhh, that’s better. Had to get the taste of your blood out of my mouth.”
When Benoit was fully clothed, the prince handed him a small vial of Blood Wine. “For the blowjob,” he said. “It wasn’t very good, but it was much better than my dreams.”
Benoit took the vial and put it in his coat pocket. He shouldn’t have such a thing, but Benoit just couldn’t refuse. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. He waited for the man to dismiss him, but the prince just stood there, smiling.
“As you’re a noble, I can’t ask you to be my concubine, but if you ever wish to sleep in my bed, send me a letter. You will never be turned down,” the man said before putting his lips on Benoit’s. Benoit felt a tongue enter his mouth. He felt another spark of pleasure in his groin. The prince’s tongue still had some Blood Wine on it. Benoit kept himself from moaning, but just barely.
“You are dismissed,” the man said, ending the kiss and turning his back on Benoit.
Benoit walked out of the room and back up the stairs. He could feel his erection. Blood Wine was very powerful, indeed.
The man walked back outside. It was already the end of the night and all of the guests had left. The party was being cleaned up by the servants. One of the servants gave Benoit a letter. The man opened it. It was from Darci. It read: I don’t know what you’re doing right now, but the sun will be coming up soon. Your parents already left. I need to leave now too. I’m leaving this with a servant to give to you. I’ll see you again soon. PS: give your pet a treat for me.
Benoit put the letter in his pocket with the vial of Blood Wine. He looked up at the sky. The sun would be up in less than ten minutes. He turned into a bat and flew to Mikael’s mansion. Once in his room he noticed the light was still on. Had he forgotten to turn it off?
He was still erect. Benoit didn’t know what to do about that. Should he touch himself? Benoit reached a hand into his trousers and touched his cock. His hand felt good on his sensitive flesh. He sat on his coffin as he masturbated. He masturbated for a while but couldn’t reach release. For some reason he just couldn’t come. He decided on a different tactic. For the first time in his life he willingly thought of that day. It didn’t take long for his erection to subside. He stood back up; he was suddenly very tired. Too tired to remove his clothes. He just wanted to sleep.
Everything that had happened had completely exhausted him. The prince wouldn’t stop talking about his punishment. The prince even wanted to take him like his father had. He’d seen how the royal family treated their human slaves. The vial punishment the man had inflicted on a female slave. The way he had just discarded valuable food. How the man had played with his food as Benoit fed. How the man still blamed Benoit and his parents for what the universe had done. Benoit’s grandfather’s coldness toward him. Benoit knew that his Grandfather didn’t think highly of him. Benoit remembered the prince’s words. He said that his parents should have killed him. The king had executed him. Benoit hadn’t known that his punishment had been to die that night. Why was he still living now?
Benoit opened his coffin and saw a sleeping Harry inside. For some reason Benoit wanted to cry. The boy’s presence made his thoughts quiet. It was like the boy kept Benoit from falling apart. Harry was not his pet. He didn’t know what the boy was to him. Benoit carefully got in his coffin and lay alongside the boy. Benoit hugged the boy to him. It must have been too much pressure because he felt the boy stir.
“Benoit?” he said in a tired voice.
“Yes?”
“You’re home.”
“Yes.”
Benoit closed his eyes. He heard the boy begin to get up. “Sorry, I just wanted to sleep here. I’ll leave,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Benoit said.
Harry shifted again and began to lay back down. They both heard the sound of glass breaking. “I’m sorry,” the boy said, sitting back up. “What did I break?”
Benoit knew exactly what the innocent child had broken. Benoit reached into his pocket. Maybe not all the Blood Wine was lost. Benoit hoped there would still be some left. He moved his hand inside his pocked but all he felt was broken glass. The vial had been shattered. The rare lilin blood was seeping into the fabric of his coat pocket. The boy had just destroyed something so rare and delicious it was practically beyond comprehension. Benoit was not a royal. He should have never been given lilin blood, but he had. And now he would never drink the God’s nectar again. Even if he were to break the rules and hunt the lilin, where would be find an incubus? A succubus? They were such secretive creatures, like vampires. The two species did not interact. Only the leaders of each somehow sent letters requesting blood or vampires for a special occasion. Benoit wouldn’t be able to track them down if he wanted to. All he had was a rumor that they lived underground. Was that even true?
It didn’t matter. Benoit wasn’t about to break the rules. He knew he would never get to drink that intoxicating blood again. He had no hope of that.
Had that been the prince’s true aim? To give him a taste of what he can’t have? To flaunt his status in his face? To show Benoit that he was not and never would be the rightful heir to the throne? Benoit didn’t care for the throne, but the prince was a cruel man nonetheless. Benoit had no doubt that that was his intention. Human blood would never taste as good again. Not now that Benoit knew there was something even better. The prince had been right. The Blood Wine had ruined him.
“What broke?” the child asked again. “Was it important?”
Benoit could not be mad at the child. Harry had no idea what he’d done. Benoit took his hand out of his pocket. He sat up and carefully took off his coat. He opened the lid of his coffin and placed the coat on the floor. Then he closed the lid and laid back down. Benoit closed his eyes. “Don’t worry about it and go back to sleep. It was nothing.” He felt the boy lay back down and put his arms around his waist. Harry hugged him close. Benoit put his arms back around the boy. Then he fell asleep.
Finnian Siog 