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wicked ways

Jean-Claude is given to Narcissus for the night to help Nikolaos secure a treaty with him.  Takes place before Guilty Pleasures. 
Rated NC-17 for violence and sexual content
Disclaimer:  All characters of the Anitaverse belong to author Laurell K. Hamilton.  This fic was written for entertainment purposes only and no profit will be made from it, promise.


The vampire stopped to stare at the rather unassuming-looking building before him, and inhaled the cold, damp air deeply into his lungs. Standing where he was on the perimeter of the parking lot, he could hear the distorted, muffled strains of music spilling out from the confines of the nightclub due to an overly amplified sound system.

How long had it been? he asked himself. Quite a while, actually. He had not been thusly dispatched in years. So long, in fact, he had almost come to believe such assignments had become a thing of the past. His past. Yet it was his unfortunately well-known, infamous past which alluded to the one thing he was good for--his raison d'Ítre, the very reason he was brought into this existence in the first place. He should have known there'd be no escaping it. He was what he was. But in spite of his rather seasoned experience, he still felt a twinge of apprehension each time he was forced to do this sort of thing.

Tonight was no different in that respect, but tonight the usual 'twinge of apprehension' had become a tremor of full-blown fear. He knew just enough about the person he was seeking out this evening, to make him wary. It helped to think of this 'transaction' as a simple business deal. He was here to negotiate, to placate, and to supplicate a potential client. An important client in his master's eyes. This was merely a job. He could do this. He had to do this. He had no choice.

The vampire took a minute to examine his clothes and make a few minor adjustments. Wearing what he was helped put him in the right frame of mind for the role he was about to play, and he knew such blatantly sleazy attire would appeal to his host for the evening.

Despite the late autumn chill in the air, the vampire had opted to go without a shirt, draping his torso instead with a loose-fitting, low cut garment which comprised mostly of black fishnet, and insisted on slipping off his left shoulder. But then, it was more for ornamentation than anything, like his gloves--formal evening gloves which covered nearly the entire length of his arms in black satin. And like the fishnet, the satin's shimmery darkness contrasted sharply with the vampire's luminously white skin and added texture. Texture was important because it was sensual.

His pants were of a different texture altogether. Leather. Appropriate for this club, the vampire concluded. They were soft, black, and fit snugly against the curves of his lower body, leaving little to the imagination. His form was further defined by the fact he had tucked the pants into highly-polished riding boots which laced up the length of his long shins. Blunt steel spurs hugged his heels--the only color he displayed besides the silver studs on his black belt.

The vampire was hoping his provocative outfit would have a stimulating affect on his host. He wanted to present himself like a work of art in an enhancing frame. He didn't normally dress this way, and he hoped altering his appearance tonight would be met with appreciation, and show his host he strived to please. Besides, it was no great stretch for the vampire to play the harlot if the situation called for it. He was more than aware of the fact his name and that particular term, were synonymous in most circles.

A wave of humiliation washed over the vampire and he bowed his head and screwed his eyes tightly shut. He told himself again, this was merely an assignment. He was simply the best person suited for the job. His master had entrusted him to act as her agent and assist her with obtaining something she greatly desired. Summoning his ambition to succeed, and keeping his mind focused on the favor such success would gain him in his master's eyes, the vampire started towards the nightclub with newfound determination. It was time.

Soon, the sound of his boots crunching on the finely ground gravel gave way to a heady, dizzying assault of loud industrial rock music. The closer the vampire drew to the entrance, the more invasive the music became. He could feel the bass line deep inside his chest, thumping against him with pounding, but padded, blows.

On with the show, the vampire mused and adjusted the rhythm of his stride to match the beat of the music, putting just enough sway to his hips to earn him an array of catcalls and whistles when he passed the line of beings waiting to get in.

The doorman was a werehyena, tall, and bulky with unnecessary musculature. He was dressed head to toe in tight black leather, complete with handcuffs on his studded belt, and a spiked dog collar around his thick neck. He had severely short spiky hair, and eyes were so dark, they looked black. The stubble on his chin appeared to be at least three days growth, and the jagged white scar bisecting his right eye made him look like the quintessential personification of the ideal club bouncer.

Ideal for this club perhaps, the vampire thought, coming to stand before him. Personally he would prefer someone a little less intimidating and more alluring. After all, the idea was to get people into your club, not scare them away at the door.

The doorman slowly looked the vampire up and down, a wide, knowing smile cutting across his fierce-looking face. With a curt nod, he stepped aside, but leaned towards the vampire.

"He's expecting you," the werehyena shouted into the vampire's ear to be heard above the raucous music. "Go through the double-doors and turn left, all the way down the hall. The last door on your right." He straightened and puckered his lips, teasingly kissing the air in front of the vampire's face. "Have fun, doll-face."

Looking up into the shapeshifter's black-like eyes, the vampire purposefully reschooled his expression to appear bored by such advances, then turned and simply continued on his way into the club.


The doorman's directions led the vampire around the club's perimeter, closer to the back. The dim hall twisted and wound its way past several closed doors, some of them marked 'private' some of them 'no admittance by unauthorized personnel'.

The few doors which were open revealed dungeon-like rooms that rivaled the Bastille's own torture chambers. In one such room, silver chains shimmered on the walls, illuminated by two small iron wall sconces that flickered minutely with the vampire's passing. A system of pulleys attached to the ceiling suspended complicated-looking harnesses. An array of swords, whips, and knives decorated the wall, among other things, displayed in such a way, the vampire wasn't sure if the devices were actually used, or merely put up to add to the chamber's fear-inducing atmosphere. The occasional screams he heard behind the doors which were closed led him to believe they were indeed used and rather vigorously at that.

The last door on the right of the winding hallway was also marked 'private'. There was no sound emanating from within this room, but the vampire could sense the presence on the other side. Power rolled from it in hot, suffocating waves, clashing with the vampire's own in a familiar clarity of an alpha shapeshifter. An alpha hyena to be exact.

Raising his hand, the vampire rapped sharply on the door just below the gold-plated sign and licked his lips apprehensively. He was admittedly nervous now, bordering on scared. The anticipation of what he was about to be subjected to frightened him, as well as the prospect of an even more severe punishment later should he fail tonight.

Unexpectedly, the door opened within mere seconds, giving the vampire barely enough time to slam his shields firmly into place. At this point, he did not care to share such negative feelings with his powerful host. It would only come across as weakness on his part, and the vampire knew he could ill-afford a display of weakness beyond his ready and willing submission. He would allow himself to be used, but not taken advantage of. The only hope he had of stemming that particular probability, was his underlying power.

A young werehyena stood before him now, clad only in a leather g-string. His attractive, youthful face was a mass of contusions and his upper body was spotted with old bruises and nicked with lacerations. Surprisingly, he stared back at the vampire with a rather arrogant, contemptuous expression.

"What do you want?" he growled curtly, giving the vampire the impression his presence wasn't exactly welcomed by the boy.

"I was told I was expected," the vampire replied evenly.

As if seeking confirmation, the young shapeshifter turned slightly and peered behind him at a figure lounging on an enormous four-poster bed. The figure rose languidly, and shooed the lesser shapeshifter away with an impatient wave of his hand.

"Get out. I'm finished with you anyway," he told him. "The evening's entertainment has arrived." His gaze fixed on the vampire and he smiled rather lecherously. "See that I am not disturbed for the remainder of the night."

The young werehyena shot the vampire a scathing look, but nodded to his master, bowed, and hurried to make himself scarce.

The vampire stepped aside to let him out of the room, then took a deep breath and faced his host expectantly.

"My, my," the alpha hyena sighed, his eyes flowing over the length of the vampire's body with an undisclosed savor. "In. Come in. And close the door behind you." He backed up, his eyes fastened to the vampire as if he didn't want to miss even the slightest movement he made.

With practiced grace, the vampire stepped into the room and pushed the door shut behind him without turning around.

Moving forward with equal grace, the shapeshifter slipped around the vampire and locked a deadbolt into place, as well as several other levers and chains.

The vampire wondered briefly if the locks were meant to keep intruders out or keep the room's occupants in. He took a moment to examine the room and moistened his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

Dominating the room was the bed. It was the largest bed the vampire had ever seen and he had seen quite a few beds in his day. Each of its thick black posts had rings or chains attached to them, running down the entire length, to accommodate numerous positions no doubt. The headboard had rings as well, and what looked like two meters of silver chain lying across the numerous pillows. The bed was unmade. Its black sheets and cover looked rumpled, but clean at least.

The vampire noticed the wood flooring beneath his feet was black, the few fur rugs scattered here and there were black, the walls were black, as well as every piece of furniture in the room. Perpetual night, the vampire thought. The only light in the room was a flaming torch flickering erratically on the far wall across from the door. Despite its uncovered flame, it did little to relieve the room's darkness. There was too much black to adequately reflect any light.

Normally, the vampire found the color sexy, but the extensive use of black in the room came across as oppressive and ominous. Wryly, the vampire realized his outfit tonight matched the room to a tee. Like his attire, the gleaming silver of displayed weaponry was the only color in the room. Taking the weaponry in, the vampire could feel the breath within him grow cold. It was an impressive arsenal to say the least.

The vampire suddenly felt the werehyena's hands on his hips, his warm body pressing against his back.

"Oh, you're lovely," he whispered in his ear. His hands slipped over the vampire's abdomen under the black netting as his mouth descended on the vampire's bare shoulder. He gnawed it delicately, his hands brazenly exploring the expanse of the vampire's chest. His fingers teasingly pinched his nipples, sending small sensual tingles racing through the vampire's body.

Sighing despite his apprehension, the vampire closed his eyes, and leaned into the shapeshifter's arms. Slowly, the werehyena's mouth traveled up the vampire's neck, dotting it with wet, heated kisses and soft, provocative bites.

"Oh, I think I'm in love," the shapeshifter murmured, then laughed lightly. "What is your name, my dear?"

"My name is Jean-Claude," the vampire introduced himself. "I was sent here by Nikolaos."

"Yes," the werehyena replied, slipping around in front of him and offering the vampire a toothy grin. "I have been expecting you. No, more like...anticipating you."

Jean-Claude studied the shapeshifter and summoned a thin smile in return.

"Narcissus, I presume?"

The shapeshifter nodded. "You presume correctly, my friend." Narcissus' voice was deep, but softly feminine. He reached out and took hold of the vampire's hand, raising it to his lips and bestowing a soft kiss on his knuckles. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance. You are even more beautiful than Nikolaos implied." He ran his hand up Jean-Claude's satin-covered forearm with undisclosed relish. "In fact, you're positively gorgeous."

"Thank you," Jean-Claude said quietly. His eyes drifted over his host with intrigue.

Narcissus was short for a man, tall for a woman, and slight in stature. His black hair was very short and his bare arms were sinewy with well-defined muscle. However, he wore more make-up than most women Jean-Claude knew, and his low-cut white blouse was decidedly feminine, not to mention his short leather skirt, black stockings, and stiletto heels.

Clearly, Narcissus was transgendered. Either a transvestite, a transsexual, or....

"I know what you are thinking," Narcissus said somewhat coyly, releasing the vampire's hand and stepping away from him. "There's that tiny flicker of confusion behind your eyes. You're not really sure what to make of me, are you?"

Jean-Claude immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. "Forgive me, if I have offended you. I was merely curious as to your...particular proclivities."

Narcissus smiled then and leaned towards the vampire. "I'm only a little offended. But I know you'll let me show you how to make amends for it. I guess I'm more surprised by your reserve than anything. I was told you were talented and experienced with both sexes, and it would not matter how I presented myself to you. Male or female. In all truth, I prefer a concise blend of the two considering...um, how do I put this delicately?--I am naturally endowed that way. I'm a hermaphrodite, if you prefer something a little more technical. I can be whatever gender you prefer if my androgyny unsettles you." He gestured down the length of his lithe body with a somewhat impatient sweep of his hand.

Jean-Claude shook his head slowly. "It is not my preferences that matter tonight, Monsieur."

Narcissus grinned broadly. "Ah, how very diplomatic of you," he said, stepping forward and pressing himself up against the vampire. He slipped his arms around Jean-Claude's waist and raised his face to peer into the vampire's eyes. "But before we begin tonight, there are a few things we must clarify."

"Very well," Jean-Claude said and reached up to cradle the shapeshifter's head in his hands. He nuzzled his cheek and began slowly kissing his way up to his brow, then over his forehead and down the other side.

Narcissus closed his eyes and sighed softly, happily. "Tell me. How much did Nikolaos explain to you about what would be expected of you tonight?"

"I know what is expected of me tonight, Monsieur," Jean-Claude said, tasting Narcissus' lower lip with a languid stroke of his tongue. "Quite simply, I am to insure your absolute satisfaction. I am prepared to do whatever that should require."

The werehyena moaned and indulgently gnawed on the vampire's chin before continuing. "Still, there are certain rules...which must be followed. Rules I want you to be aware of that will put your mind at ease." He dragged his hands down over the vampire's hips and squeezed him firmly. "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes," the vampire breathed against Narcissus' cheek. "I can assure you, I have done this sort thing many times before."

"As a submissive?"


"All right. What are your terms?"

Jean-Claude took a deep breath. "I request no permanent injury. Nothing that will alter my appearance, scar or dismember me. And I would ask that you not cut or damage my hair."

"Agreed. What else?"

"I would prefer not to suffer eye injuries or bone fractures, including my teeth."

"Of course. When playing with vampires, I make a point of leaving their teeth intact. You've no need to be concerned there. I would request the same of you if you were topping me. However, if you struggle or fight against your bonds, you may dislocate something. You will not hold me accountable for such injuries. But no bones will be broken due to anything I'll inflict upon you." Narcissus paused and toyed with the netting of Jean-Claude's shirt, twisting it between his fingers. "What about your clothes?"

Jean-Claude shrugged. "They are expendable. I would only ask you provide me with something else at the end of the night if you wish to destroy these."

The shapeshifter smiled and pressed a soft kiss on the vampire's bared shoulder. "Agreed." With that, he grasped the shirt in both hands and effortlessly tore it apart, then leaned forward and scraped his teeth across Jean-Claude's chest, hard enough to raise welts. The vampire inhaled sharply, but made no move to pull away from him. Narcissus traced the reddening welts with his tongue, then looked up suddenly. "Oh. Is there anything else? Do you want a safe word?"

Jean-Claude shook his head. "If you adhere to my requests, I will submit wholly to your...desires."

Narcissus giggled rather girlishly and peeled the torn netting from the vampire's upper body. "Still. Sometimes I get a little carried away." Firmly grasping the vampire's upper arms, he raked his teeth across Jean-Claude's chest a second time, this time drawing blood. With a little whimper of delight, he lapped the fresh wounds repeatedly until the blood ceased to rise, then leaned back, licking his lips with slow savor. "Oh. I know. If you truly have reached the limits of your endurance, I would suggest you call 'breach.' It's a short, sharp word that kind of shakes me when my lovers say it. It's like my personal alarm clock. My subconscious mind listens for it and reacts to it before my consciousness can. It will protect you, but I caution you not to overuse it. If I hear it too much, I tend to simply start ignoring it."

"I understand," Jean-Claude said and swallowed down the thickness building in his throat.

"Good. Good," Narcissus went on, trailing his fingertips over the vampire's skin, down his ribs to his pants. He worked to unbuckle Jean-Claude's belt and pulled it slowly from his hips. "If you think of any questions later, feel free to ask. I like to think I'm pretty accommodating. Just mind your manners, seek my permission before you do anything to me, and accept what I do to you unconditionally. Oh, and if you talk or scream too much, I will gag you. I'd prefer not to. I'd like to keep your mouth accessible, if you know what I mean, so try hard not to overreact." Draping the belt around the vampire's neck like a scarf, Narcissus smiled seductively and stepped back. He started unbuttoning the front of his blouse. "Shall we begin?"

The vampire nodded, watching the werehyena wriggle out of his top and toss it aside on the floor. What breasts he had were small, but nubile like a pubescent girl's. His chest was smooth and devoid of hair. He seemed decidedly more feminine now. With a lascivious grin, Narcissus kneaded his small breasts teasingly, then rubbed his nipples to make them erect.

"Do you like what you see?" Narcissus cooed. "The best of both worlds, Jean-Claude. After doing me, you may never go back to single-sexed people again." Reaching around behind him, he unzipped his skirt and stepped out of it.

Jean-Claude saw the shapeshifter's garters were leather and the silky black thong he was wearing did little to conceal the bulging fullness between his legs. Jean-Claude lowered his eyes, feeling a deep-centered heat slowly spread outwards, stirring his body with the first pangs of arousal. Narcissus was lovely, and Jean-Claude wished, fleetingly, the werehyena's sexual penchants were more in tune with his own.

"Shall I...undress?" Jean-Claude asked hesitantly. He knew enough about submission to ask permission and not presume or anticipate anything.

Narcissus stalked over to him and ran his hand down the front of the vampire's leather pants. "You're not wearing anything under these, are you?"

Jean-Claude shook his head.

"Then no. Not yet," Narcissus told him. "We're going to do a few little warm-up exercises so I can feel you out. We'll get down to the nitty gritty part soon enough." He reached up then and pulled the belt from around Jean-Claude's neck with such force it nearly jerked the vampire off his feet. Narcissus grinned, folding the belt in half and running his hands over the raised silver studs. "This will do nicely for now."

Narcissus hooked his index finger in one of Jean-Claude's belt loops and pulled him over to the bed, positioning him at the foot, next to one of the ringed posts. Then he retrieved the length of chain laying across the pillows and weaved it through the highest and lowest ring a few times.

Jean-Claude exhaled a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding as he watched the werehyena bustle around him making preparations to bind him to the post. When all the necessary adjustments had been made and the chain secured to the rings, Narcissus waved him forward.

"Lean back, my dear, so I can wrap this around you."

Obediently, the vampire pressed his bare back against the bedpost and Narcissus looped the chain around his chest under his arms and over his hips. He slipped behind him momentarily and Jean-Claude heard the chains rattling against the wood. He turned his head slightly to try to see what the shapeshifter was doing, then felt the chain suddenly yanked painfully tight across his chest and hips before being locked into place. Jean-Claude threw his head back against the post and pressed himself harder against it to try to alleviate some of the excruciating pressure.

Narcissus was suddenly in front of him, grasping his hands and fitting his wrists with padded leather cuffs. To those he attached more chains and used a pulley system above the bed to hoist the vampire's hands over his head. Then Narcissus stepped back to appraise his handiwork and snapped the belt eagerly a few times against the palm of his hand.

"Ah. Perfect!" he pronounced. "Has anyone ever told you how deliciously hot you look chained to a bed, Jean-Claude? You do, you know. You really do."

Jean-Claude could barely draw in enough breath to speak. As it was, his reply came out in a breathless whisper. "I am happy you find me so appealing, Monsieur."

Narcissus laughed lightly. He reached out and ran his hand over the vampire's naked torso, stroking him as one would stroke a beloved pet.

"I'm going to start on your legs and work my way up here," he informed, passing his hand in a slow circle around Jean-Claude's navel. "You need a little bruising to add a little color to your skin." He leaned forward then and covered the vampire's mouth with his in a quick, jarring kiss, his hand slithering down between Jean-Claude's legs, rubbing his sex with scintillatingly slow strokes. "Yes. Good. So nice and hard. That's what I want." He kissed him again, more passionately this time, clearly becoming more aroused with each passing second.

Jean-Claude closed his eyes and surrendered himself to Narcissus' kiss, opening his mouth and taking the werehyena's tongue deeply inside. Such sweet incitement eased his apprehension somewhat and refocused his mind on his desire. He knew from experience if his desire was strong enough, his pain receptors became clouded and lessened his discomfort. On some occasions, pain became just another stimulating sensation. He could only hope Narcissus would alternate his sadism with small tokens of tenderness like this.

"Oh...my," Narcissus sighed, pulling away from the vampire. "If you kiss that well, I can only imagine what other talents of yours the night will reveal." He took a rather shaky step backwards. "And you're mine tonight. All mine. I shall have to make a point of thanking your master. I'm going to enjoy you. I can tell." He drew back his arm and slashed the belt forcefully across the vampire's knees.

Jean-Claude gasped and jerked against the chains. Narcissus grinned and beat him again. More prepared this time, Jean-Claude lay his head back against the bedpost and closed his eyes tightly. The belt cut across his thighs several times, each blow delivered with a little more zest than the previous. His legs began to burn as though they were set on fire and he tried to shift his position within the confines of his chains to no avail.

"How does that feel?" Narcissus asked. "Do you like it?"

He didn't, but Jean-Claude knew he was not allowed to admit it. Swallowing hard, the vampire nodded with much more enthusiasm than necessary.

"I'm impressed," Narcissus added. "You take it well."

"Practice," Jean-Claude managed to say, and heard Narcissus laugh.

The belt came down again with even more violent force on Jean-Claude's bare abdomen. His body spasmed in pain and he had to turn his head and sink his teeth into his bicep to keep from crying out. With each consecutive stroke, the studs on the leather cut deeper into his skin and raised welts that oozed blood. The leather was making a wet slapping sound against his stomach now and Jean-Claude could feel cool flecks of blood hitting his chest and face.

Narcissus continued beating him until the blood was all but streaming down the vampire's legs. With a deep sigh of satisfaction, the werehyena tossed the ruined belt aside and moved to stand in front of the vampire.

Jean-Claude felt Narcissus hands on his hips and reluctantly opened his eyes and peered down at him.

The shapeshifter smiled in return and dropped to his knees. He unfastened the top button of Jean-Claude's pants and slid the zipper open.

"That was incredible--you were incredible!" he exclaimed. "Oh we're going to have such a good time tonight, my dear. I wasn't holding back and you took it all. I'm very, very pleased. So pleased in fact, I'm going to reward you." He slid his hands up the front of Jean-Claude's pants, purposefully dragging his fingers through the blood drizzling over the scarred leather, then grasped the waistband on either side and slowly pulled them down over the vampire's slim hips.

Jean-Claude sank his head back against the bedpost and closed his eyes again. Being exposed as he was and having Narcissus positioned the way he was, tainted his arousal with acute trepidation. He wondered briefly if this was to be more punishment or another token of tenderness.

"You are so beautiful, Jean-Claude," the werehyena breathed, his face nuzzling the vampire's groin.

Jean-Claude tensed. "...Please."

"Ssshh," Narcissus soothed. "Don't be so impatient."

Jean-Claude sighed despondently. He resisted the urge to correct the shapeshifter's assumption and clarify his plea for mercy. But sometimes such pleading backfired. It would be better to simply stay quiet and try to mentally and physically prepare himself for another bout of impending agony.

The vampire suddenly felt the wet heat of Narcissus' mouth close around him and gasped, more from fear than arousal. The werehyena's skillful ministrations were not painful however, in fact, what he was doing felt extraordinary, and soon Jean-Claude found himself relaxing and succumbing to the immense pleasure that was now coursing through his mind and body.

The sustaining ache of his constricted chest, bloodied lower abdomen, and bruised legs were subsequently pushed aside, but when Narcissus wrapped his arms around Jean-Claude's injured thighs to hold him steady, the vampire winced and moaned with pain instead of pleasure.

As if spurred on by the vampire's sudden discomfort, Narcissus only tightened his grip and continued with even more zeal.

It was then the vampire felt the razing of Narcissus teeth, lightly at first, then with considerably more pressure. He jerked against his chains as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his body. As anticipated, his rising passion was confusing the stimulus and with the searing pain came the first wave of orgasm. His mind blackened and exploded in bursts of white hot light, his body awash with the clash of sensations. He slammed his head against the post and half-snarled, half-screamed as Narcissus bit down on him, digging his nails deeply into the backs of his thighs, riding out the spasms convulsing the vampire's body.

Jean-Claude slumped against the bedpost, gasping for air and feeling the chain across his chest tighten with each futile breath he sought.

Narcissus slowly withdrew from him and rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with his hand. "I'm getting careless," he announced. "I didn't mean to let you have release just yet. You didn't deserve it. But I just couldn't stop myself." He reached up and took Jean-Claude's head in his hands and kissed him roughly. "You enjoyed that. I'm actually a little surprised. I thought when I started hurting you, you'd call 'breach', but instead you came." He chuckled softly and ran his hands over the vampire's armpits and up his arms. "Nikolaos chose her bartering chip well. Not only did I get myself a lovely little whore, I got a masochist too. A point in dear Nikolaos' favor."

The vampire turned his face away from the werehyena and leaned his cheek against his arm. Now that his passion had subsided, the pain wracking his body was returning with a vengeance. His hands were going numb from being strung above his head for so long, and his arms were aching with the weight of gravity. His chest felt bruised and intolerably bound, his abdomen was excruciatingly tender and still seeping blood; his hips were cut with contusions from that binding chain, and his entire lower body was burning with the wounds inflicted on him during his ill-gotten orgasm. And he had only been here an hour.

"I'm going to unchain you from the post," Narcissus suddenly declared, breaking the vampire out of his mournful reverie. "I want you to undress completely and then lie on the bed face down." He moved around the bedpost and snapped the locks holding the chains in place.

Jean-Claude lowered his hands, his arms screaming in protest. He winced, slowing their descent to a more tolerable rate until they were at his sides. The chains around his chest and hips were loosened and pulled forcefully away, and Jean-Claude had to suddenly grasp the bedpost to keep from falling down. The blood suddenly flowing back into the bruised furrows left on his skin was almost as painful as the bondage had been.

Laboriously, the vampire eased himself to the floor and began unlacing his boots. Pulling them off was more exerting than it should have been, and Jean-Claude took a moment to rest before struggling to his feet again.

"You're wasting valuable time," Narcissus warned. "My time, pet. Hurry up."

Jean-Claude peered over at him, biting back an impulsive retort, and forced himself to bow his head instead.

"Forgive me. I am feeling the effects of your expertise rather keenly, Monsieur."

Narcissus smiled. "You may call me Narcissus. You seek to flatter me and that pleases me."

"I am only speaking the truth," Jean-Claude countered. He climbed unsteadily to his feet, far less graceful than normal and drew the leather pants carefully down his legs, then stepped out of them, aware of the werehyena's unwavering gaze. He straightened and faced him.

His eyes drinking in the sight of the vampire standing before him clad only in black gloves and wrist cuffs, Narcissus' smile faded, and he raised his hand to his mouth to gnaw absently on a fingernail. "Turn around," he commanded. "Slowly."

Jean-Claude obeyed and made a careful, complete revolution.

Narcissus crept up to him, gazing deeply into the vampire's eyes. He wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his hands into his hair. He pulled his head down to him and kissed him hungrily, moving his jaw roughly over Jean-Claude's mouth until the vampire felt Narcissus teeth cutting into his lips. He tasted his own blood on his tongue and tried to pull away, but the shapeshifter punishingly twisted his fingers around the vampire's hair and kissed him even harder. A muffled whimper of protest escaped Jean-Claude's throat and Narcissus finally drew back.

He exhaled through his teeth forcefully. "Breathtaking," the shapeshifter sighed. "Your kisses would turn a saint to sin."

"Merci," Jean-Claude half-muttered, wiping away the blood on his mouth with the back of his hand.

The shapeshifter suddenly frowned. "You thank me as if my compliments bore you."

"On the contrary," Jean-Claude countered, quickly readjusting the tone of his voice to a deep, seductive purr. "I am pleased you find me so attractive." He took a small step closer to him. "I want to be attractive to you. I want you to take pleasure in me."

Appeased, Narcissus grinned. "I intend to, Jean-Claude." He pointed at the bed. "Lie down as I instructed. Our little warm up exercise is over. It's time to see how good you really are."

Jean-Claude did as he was told, stretching out his arms and legs, certain he was going to be chained once more. It hurt him to lay on his stomach however and he rolled slightly on his side to keep his weight off his wounds.

He noticed the werehyena was stalking about the room, gathering different devices from cabinets, shelves, and off the walls--the sight of which sent a fine tremor of fear rippling through him.

Finally, Narcissus went to the foot of the bed and pulled off the mounded top sheet and comforter, and rather unceremoniously deposited both on the blood-splattered floor.

Jean-Claude turned away from him then, settling his head down on the pillows. He took several deep breaths to try to calm his pounding heart, but when he felt Narcissus hand light upon his ankle, he inadvertently jumped, startled, making his pulse race even more.

Narcissus laughed softly and ran his fingers over the soles of the vampire's feet.

"You just don't know whether my touch will bring pleasure or pain now, do you?" he questioned. "I like that. It's exciting. But it makes for rather nerve-wracking sex for you, doesn't it? Try to think of the pain as just another sensation, like the pleasure is a sensation. Experience them the same way. Let them both thrill you."

Taking hold of the vampire's left foot, Narcissus locked a heavy, silver shackle around his ankle and fastened it to the lowest ring on the bedpost with a short, thick chain. He repeated the procedure with his right foot, then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on his heel.

"Are you ticklish?" Narcissus asked, and playfully trailed his index finger lightly down the bottom of the vampire's foot.

Jean-Claude squirmed slightly. "Yes," he breathed. He peered over his shoulder at the werehyena to see what he was up to.

"Don't look at me," Narcissus ordered. "Face the head of the bed and close your eyes. I just want you to feel. Anticipate...sensations."

The vampire did as he was told. Again, he felt the shapeshifter's finger tickling the sole of his foot. He moved his foot away from him as far as the chain allowed and heard the werehyena giggle.

"Maddening, isn't it?" Narcissus teased. He grasped the vampire's foot in his hand to keep it still. "Tickling someone is like torturing them, don't you agree? But you like it, don't you?" He tickled him again. "How about this?"

Jean-Claude suddenly felt the sharp point of hard steel against his skin and before he could react, Narcissus dragged a knife down the length of his foot, slicing deep into his sole. He jerked his leg away so hard, his knee cracked from the pull of the shackle and he swore hotly under his breath, burying his face in the pillow beneath his head to keep from screaming.

Narcissus leaned over and rubbed the vampire's calf muscle. "Careful, my dear. Don't tear your limbs off." He moved to the other side of the bed and grasped Jean-Claude's other foot.

Twisting around to face him again, Jean-Claude tried to pull free from the shapeshifter's hand.

"Please," the vampire pleaded, but it was to no avail.

Narcissus only tightened his grip and drew the length of the blade over the back of the vampire's heel.

Searing pain shot up Jean-Claude's leg and he suddenly felt light-headed. He slumped back down on the bed with a heartfelt moan.

The werehyena let his foot fall from his hand and clucked his tongue admonishingly. "There, there. That wasn't so bad, was it? These cuts will give you a nice, steady pain. A good base feeling for experiencing other sensations on top of it. I've found feet are ultra-sensitive, like the hands. Sensation on different parts of them affect different parts of the body."

Jean-Claude turned and wrapped his arms tightly around the pillow, futilely trying to hide his hands away to spare them of the impending torment to come.

As expected, Narcissus stalked to the head of the bed. He stood eyeing Jean-Claude's defensive posture with an amused expression.

"What are you anticipating now, Jean-Claude?" he whispered. "Why are you suddenly so afraid? Haven't I already shown you the pleasure of pain? It was the pain that made you come. This pain will make you come too. Remember, it's all sensation. The key is in how you perceive it."

With that, he grabbed the vampire's arm and pulled it out from under the pillow. Jean-Claude watched him with a slightly dazed expression. Narcissus worked to unfasten the wrist cuff, then stripped off the glove. He leaned over, reaching up towards the headboard and produced what looked like a small vice clamp with long screws on either side. Slipping the device onto the vampire's thumb like a ring, the shapeshifter adjusted the screws until they drew the bars of the clamp snugly against the base of Jean-Claude's thumb, then attached it to one of the rings on the headboard.

The device was uncomfortable, but not painful, the vampire concluded, somewhat relieved. It made his thumb ache, but it was a tolerable ache.

"I do not know what to expect from you anymore," Jean-Claude said quietly, peering up into the werehyena's attractive face. "You surprise me with both your tenderness and brutality. When I anticipate pain, you give me pleasure."

"Well, I am skilled at what I do," Narcissus smiled. "I like to think I know what works best. Alternating stimulus keeps my lovers guessing and the shock of what I do makes the sensation more profound. You have to admit, when I'm gentle with you, you feel it that much more. The pain I inflict on you works the same way. If I showed you nothing but brutality, you'd grow that much more accustom to it and it wouldn't turn you on anymore. Besides, too much of a good thing can get a little boring, don't you think?"

Jean-Claude sighed. "...I suppose. Though I have yet to become bored with the way I prefer to have sex."

Narcissus grinned. "Really? I guess everyone has their own personal preferences. I know I have mine." He bent over Jean-Claude's head and took the cuff and glove off his other hand and fitted it with the same kind of thumb screw device, chaining it to another ring on the headboard. He straightened and pulled on the chains to make sure they were secure. "Almost done," he murmured. He picked up the vampire's left hand and with a quick, hard twist, he tightened the screws on the clamp, bringing the bars together with a bone-crushing pressure.

The pain was nearly overwhelming. Jean-Claude hissed in agony, fighting futiley to free his hand, but each pull of the chain only made the device punish him more. When Narcissus grabbed his other hand, the vampire snarled at him.

Narcissus snatched up a handful of Jean-Claude's hair and snapped his head back. "Behave now. I don't want to have to muzzle you." He released his head and immediately turned the screws of the vice on his other hand even more sharply, mercilessly tightening that clamp as well. He tossed the vampire's tortured hand forcefully down on the bed and stepped back. "I'm going to punish you now for that little display of defiance. You agreed to submit to me, and that sort of blatant threat will simply not be tolerated." He stepped back and turned away, retrieving a cat o' nine tails whip from his ready arsenal. "If you thought the belt hurt, wait until you feel this."

Jean-Claude turned his face away, burying it against his out-stretched arm. He took several deep breaths and tried shifting his body upwards to alleviate the pull of the thumb screws, but the shackles on his ankles held him fast.

He suddenly felt the weight of Narcissus' warm hand brush lightly over his back. Almost reluctantly, he raised his head and peered curiously up at him.

"These are lovely," Narcissus said. "I hadn't noticed them until now." He traced the ribbons of scars across the vampire's upper back. "If only I could mark you like this," he continued somewhat wistfully. "Alas, I know my little marks will only fade away after tonight. There'll be nothing left on your body for you to remember me by." His hand moved down the length of the vampire's body, settling on the curve of his buttocks. "But then look at that ass. Such stunning perfection. It almost pains me to bloody it. Even temporarily."

Jean-Claude licked his lips. "Take heart in the fact I heal as fast as I do, Monsieur," he mumbled. "A body can only endure so much before it becomes incapacitated."

Narcissus considered this. "True. Which is why I only play with supernaturals. Humans have a tendency to...die on me."

Jean-Claude shook his head and must have looked as disgusted as he felt because Narcissus' expression suddenly hardened.

"What was that for? Are you trying to incite me to flog you even more? Are you getting impatient, my little masochistic whore?"

"Yes!" the vampire spat. "Beat me and be done with it!"

Narcissus gaped back at Jean-Claude, aghast. "Well!" he huffed. "I can see there's a little bit of the dominant in you. But you better tuck him tightly away before he gets you into anymore trouble, my dear. You're in plenty of trouble as it is, and just remember, you asked for it!"

He raised the whip high over his head and ripped the lashes through the air so powerfully, they whistled and tore across the vampire's lower back with a resounding crack.

The scream which rose in Jean-Claude's throat became trapped there when he realized he couldn't even breathe. The whip bit into his back again and he flinched, jerking against his chains. Blinding pain shot down his arms from the thumb screws and he did scream audibly then.

Narcissus hit him again, throwing his weight behind this strike as if to punish the vampire's outburst. The metal-tipped lashes scored deep into the soft flesh of Jean-Claude's upper back, splitting the skin on impact.

"The only thing," the werehyena said rather breathlessly, "I want to hear out of that lovely mouth of yours is the sweet sound of your ecstasy." He whipped the vampire again across the buttocks and the backs of his thighs.

Jean-Claude's mind began to drift in and out of consciousness as Narcissus continued to beat him. Tears welled in his eyes and his body began to tremble and burn with a feverish kind of heat. The blood running down his hot skin from the numerous open wounds was cold and felt like ice water. The sheet beneath him was wet with blood now. It was so uncomfortable, he thought distantly. If only he could crawl away from it. He closed his aching hands around the chains of the thumb screws and tried to turn his body to angle his back away from the whip, but the chains were simply too short. Collapsing back down on the bed from the exertion of his futile efforts, he lay flat against the mattress and closed his eyes in resignation. The whip cut into him again and again and again but he knew there was no escaping it. Now he didn't even try.

An oppressive silence descended in the dark room. Numbly, Jean-Claude realized the whipping had stopped. He felt the bed shift beneath Narcissus' weight as he climbed up on it and on top of him. He groaned miserably, his body, as well as his mind, shrieking in protest.

"God, if you only knew how beautiful you look right now," the werehyena whispered, kneeling between the vampire's legs, and stripped off what little remained of his clothing. He tossed his shoes over the side of the bed onto the floor, then reached down and tugged at Jean-Claude's hair, ignoring the soft whimpers of pain he emitted, and patted his cheek. "Look alive, my dear. I'm not finished with you yet."

Hearing those words filled Jean-Claude's exhausted heart with an overwhelming despair, and knowing what Narcissus was about to do to him, filled him with dread. He pressed his face down into the pillow beneath his head and tightly grasped his chains, seeking some sense of security more than relief now.

As expected, the pain was paralyzing and unrelenting. Violent waves of agony were jolting Jean-Claude's body until mercifully, his consciousness slipped into a darkened oblivion, and the vampire fainted.


Waking with an abrupt start, Jean-Claude knew at once something was not right. He was too disoriented, weak, and groggy. Normally when he rose at dusk, he felt alert and strong. Then, something in the back of his mind told him it was not dusk.

Even more than the odd way he was feeling, was the fact he was lying on a bed with wet, sticky sheets that clung to his cold, nude body. The scent of blood was all around him, but it didn't arouse him, it sickened him, and his stomach lurched violently. He placed his hand over it, and moaned, forcing his grit-filled eyes to focus more clearly on his surroundings. It was all coming back to him now. He saw above him the low, black ceiling draped in silver chains and rigged with an array of hoists and pulleys.

The vampire struggled to sit up, but a sharp, dizzying pain wracked him, and he fell back against the sheets with a loud, wet smack.

He suddenly became aware of someone softly laughing off to his left. Turning his head carefully in that direction, Jean-Claude looked into the eyes of Narcissus, the werehyena.

He was lying beside him on the bed, completely naked, his torso and hips covered in dried blood. His blood, Jean-Claude thought.

Belatedly, the vampire realized he was lying on his back now, and his hands and feet were no longer bound to the bed. He remembered the torturous thumb screws and absently flexed his aching hands. He remembered Narcissus cutting him with knives and beating him, and vaguely recalled the fact the shapeshifter had raped him, but thankfully he couldn't remember any of that in detail.

The werehyena suddenly reached towards him, but Jean-Claude reflexively jerked away from him, immediately regretting the movement when the room began to spin in circles around him.

"Take it easy," Narcissus said, placing his hand on Jean-Claude's chest. "Don't try to move. You might pass out again."

"I did faint, didn't I?"

The shapeshifter nodded. "And you truly slept, poor dear. Your system just shut down. You simply couldn't take anymore." He paused and frowned suddenly. "You shouldn't have let me beat you so badly. You should have used your safe word. I told you I sometimes get carried away."

Jean-Claude swallowed thickly. "You did nothing wrong. You adhered to the terms we agreed on."

"Mmm. Still. I would have preferred you awake, but I still enjoyed myself." He smiled again and leaned over to press a soft kiss on the vampire's cheek. "I was so turned on from whipping you," he continued in a breathy voice. "I loved watching the way your body spasmed with every strike. I loved all those soft, sorrowful sounds you made. And all this beautiful blood." With a contented sigh, Narcissus curled himself around the vampire and laid his head upon his shoulder, encircling his chest with his arm.

The shapeshifter's affectionate display surprised Jean-Claude, but it helped ease some of his tension.

"I fear I have lost too much to be of any more use to you tonight," Jean-Claude murmured. He took a deep breath, feeling oddly comforted by the werehyena's warm body pressed so tightly to his, and reached up to trail his fingers over the length of Narcissus' sinewy arm. It occurred to him then, the shapeshifter was not exactly cruel or mean-spirited, he was simply sadistic. Power and pain aroused him.

"Your loss of blood is easily remedied," the shapeshifter said. "Blood is an abundant natural resource." He wiped at the sticky, red substance on Jean-Claude's side and raised his hand to inspect it more closely. "Whose blood is this?"

At first, Jean-Claude wasn't sure if the werehyena was being facetious or not, but the look on his face told the vampire he was asking in earnest.

"A woman's," Jean-Claude admitted softly. "I came across her on my way here this evening."

"Oh yes?" Narcissus said with child-like enthusiasm. "Tell me about her. Was she pretty?"

Jean-Claude nodded. "Yes. She was very pretty."

"How did you catch her?" the shapeshifter prodded, tracing the cross-shaped scar on the vampire's chest with his index finger.

"I was standing on a street corner waiting for traffic to pass," Jean-Claude began quietly. "She was coming out of a shop, closing it down for the night. She saw me just as I saw her, and when I held her gaze, she came to me. We went back inside her store and I...took her there."

Narcissus raised himself up on his elbow so he could peer down into the vampire's face. "Did you fuck her?"

Jean-Claude shook his head. "No."

The shapeshifter looked disappointed and sighed. Apparently he had been hoping the vampire would regale him with all the lascivious facts.

"But you wanted to, didn't you?"

The vampire lowered his eyes momentarily. "Truthfully, yes," he confessed. "She was...very pretty."

Shifting his upper body over the vampire's chest, Narcissus lowered and tilted his head, then kissed Jean-Claude tenderly. "You're very pretty too," he whispered to him, then sank his lips against the vampire's once more.

This kiss too, was soft and sweet, and Jean-Claude found himself eagerly responding in kind, absorbing the rare tenderness the shapeshifter was showing him with a gracious savor.

Narcissus' hand slid over the vampire's still bruised abdomen, over his hip and down to his groin. He stroked him languidly, but with his increasing passion, his kiss became more demanding. He opened his mouth wider, thrusting his tongue between the vampire's sharp teeth, moving his jaw against Jean-Claude's devouringly.

The vampire abruptly tensed, still wary of the shapeshifter's treacherous advances, but the way he was kissing and caressing him now, coaxed Jean-Claude's wayward desire to the surface once more. He wrapped his arms around Narcissus' shoulders, holding him tightly to him, then dragged his mouth over the shapeshifter's chin and down the length of his long neck.

Narcissus closed his eyes tightly, breathing deeply, and looked somewhat flushed as the vampire sensuously embraced his throat.

"Do you want to take me now the way you took that woman?" he asked abruptly.

Jean-Claude stopped kissing him and peered up at his face. "Are you offering me your blood?"

Narcissus grinned. "You said yourself, you're not going to be much use to me without blood, so yes. I am offering."

The vampire nuzzled the werehyena's cheek and passed his hands up and down his back a few times before replying. "That is most gracious of you, but I truly don't think I can."

Narcissus turned his head to face Jean-Claude. "What do you mean?"

Jean-Claude sighed heavily and lowered his eyes. "You are a very powerful alpha, and my own powers pale in comparison. I do not believe I can roll your mind," he half-apologized. "And without doing so, you would not derive any pleasure from my bite."

Narcissus laughed suddenly, startling Jean-Claude.

"Au contraire," he quipped. "I've been bitten by vampires before, and found it quite pleasurable. I expect no less from your bite, my dear." The werehyena bent down and stole a quick kiss. "For the time being, we'll make a virtue of necessity and turn the tables, so to speak, and I'll submit myself to you."

Jean-Claude blinked back at Narcissus in surprise as the dawning of comprehension lit his eyes. "You don't want me to take your mind?"

"No," the werehyena confessed. He reached up and pushed back the vampire's full upper lip with his thumb to expose one gleaming white fang. "To me, it ruins the experience. I want to feel every delicious sensation your bite will give me. Your teeth piercing my skin, puncturing my vein...the burning pull of the blood being drawn from my body." He paused and sighed. "Do it now, Jean-Claude. I want it." He kissed the vampire again, this time slowly and seductively. "Take me and make it hurt."

A wicked little smile tugged at the corners of Jean-Claude's mouth. He grasped the shapeshifter's head in his hand and turned it roughly to the side, extending his neck as far back as it would go without snapping it. Oh, the temptation....

"Just remember," Jean-Claude whispered and licked his lips. "You asked for it." With that, the vampire bared his fangs and struck.








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