This story contains rape, abuse, suicide and retribution. It’s also in development. If it goes well, the next chapter will have more erotic content but for now I’m just writing it out to see if I like the characters.
“There, the one with the black hoodie and purple backpack.” Serena says. “I’ve connected with her a few times and she’s possibly the most tortured being I’ve ever felt.”
I reach out for myself, just to confirm. It’s not necessary; I can see the pain in her eyes and feel it radiate from her soul. As soon as I connect, the pain is overwhelming. It’s nearly too much for me to bear and I break the connection immediately.
“Yes,” I agree, “Good work Serena. She definitely needs our help.”
“What do I need to do?” Serena asks.
“If the pain I felt is any indication, tonight is the night. She’s going to try tonight. Watch her closely but don’t intervene. When the time comes, call me and I’ll come present her with the options.”
“And the punishment? We can’t let them get away with this.”
“Of course we won’t.” I tell her, “But there’s time for that later. Tonight we’ll examine the extent of her pain, identify those responsible for it and ensure that her transition is peaceful. Her retribution can begin after that.”
Serena smiles, the Retribution is what drives her, what drives us all.
—
“Grace!”
I shiver as I hear his voice. I was hoping tonight would be different, of course it won’t, but that hope is the only thing I have left. “Coming sir!” I call back, sliding my notebook back into the purple backpack on my bed.
I found him in the living room. Philip, my stepfather, is in his recliner, naked except for a pair of stained briefs. There are a dozen empty tall boys around him. He’s watching porn on the TV and playing with himself through his underwear, every girl’s dream.
“There you are, what took you so long?” He’s scowling, tonight will not be pleasant. “Get me another beer and come sit on my lap.”
I trudge into the kitchen to find a beer in the fridge. It’s not hard, aside from the beers he buys daily, the fridge contains only moldy cheese, sour milk and a bottle of mustard. And the people at school wonder why I’m so thin, if anyone actually cared, they’d have investigated me earlier and found that I survive on dry cereal and whatever I can steal.
I’m dragging my feet on the carpet now, slowly shuffling back to where Philip is sitting. He’s put his feet up and reclined all the way back, only a few degrees short of laying flat. I hand him the can and make to join him in the chair but he pushes me back to my feet roughly, sitting up as he does “What have I you about that sweatshirt?”
I start to pull the shirt over my head. The punch lands the second my eyes are covered. It’s a hard punch and it connects with the lowest rib on my right side, directly on top of my liver. The pain is immediate and I collapse in a heap on the floor. A second later I manage to cough and start breathing again. “I’m sorry sir, I forgot.” That’s my voice, but the words aren’t me.
After I’ve removed the sweatshirt I’m allowed to join him in the chair. Crusty upholstery scrapes my exposed skin. I don’t know if the crust is old food or dried cum, both probably. Under the sweatshirt was a threadbare tank top and a pair of panties that’s two sizes too small. This is all I’m supposed to wear at home.
Philip’s hands paw at me aggressively. He squeezes my boobs like stress balls and then digs into my underwear. His calloused fingers find my vagina and penetrate me without warning or invitation. I manage to stifle my grunt of pain. Philip doesn’t like being reminded that I feel pain.
The next hours pass in a haze. It’s always some variation of the same events. He’ll play with himself while getting progressively more drunk before calling me to join him. Then he’ll force me to pleasure him for an hour or two until my mother gets home from work. Her arrival doesn’t mean my torture is over. She’s his unwilling accomplice. As soon as she gets home she’ll join us in the living room.
My mother’s job is to make me orgasm. Philip says that he’s not able to finish unless his lady finishes first. Since he’s unwilling to focus on my pleasure, he has my mother do what’s necessary. If we’re lucky he’ll pass out for a few hours after finishing in my mouth or ass, never inside my pussy. That would be rape, that would make me impure and unworthy of a husband. It might also get me pregnant and we can’t afford an abortion.
Tonight however, he doesn’t pass out. He had a nap today and he’s awake enough to be hungry. My mother and I are sent to find food in our empty kitchen. I excuse myself to clean up after we find a box of generic mac and cheese.
In the bathroom I see my chance. I’ve been looking for an exit for months. I didn’t realize it was right under my nose until this precise moment. But how do I ensure that I won’t be interrupted?
I head back to the living room and see that Philip has started watching something different. “Sir?” I say meekly “May I take a bath to clean myself up for you?”
“Whatever, just be back before I’m done eating.”
For the first time in ages I feel genuine hope. I won’t be back, ever. I just need a few minutes. I run the bath as hot as it will go. I’ve been nude for 90 minutes so there’s nothing left to do to prepare. I think briefly about writing a note, but I don’t have any paper. I inhale deeply and close my eyes, steeling myself for what I’m about to do. My fingers close around the straight razor and I step into the steaming water.
—
“Hello, might I have a word with you?” The voice comes from nowhere, but as I open my eyes two bodies come into focus. A tall man wearing an impeccable suit is standing over the tub. Behind him a woman is lowering the toilet lid before sitting down. All I can think to do is scream.
“Please don’t do that.” the woman says, “It won’t change anything now.”
“Serena!” the man says, almost scolding her. “Have some patience. You know full well how alarming it is when we present ourselves, and especially for this dear girl who’s suffered so much already.”
Panic races through my brain. They’re here to stop me, to save my life, to restore me to my existence of pain.
“Not at all sweet lady.” the man says, as if he could read my thoughts. “We’re not here to stop you, we’re here to help you.”
“What?!” I yell.
“You’re in the middle of a suicide attempt. A successful one, it appears.” the woman, Serena, says. “We’re not interested in saving you. We’re here to offer you a second chance.”
The confusion must be written on my face because the man answers the question before I can ask it. “We’d like to offer you a position in our group, if you’re interested. You’ve lived quite a hard life for the last few years. Our group searches for people like you and provides, assistance.”
“I don’t understand.” I say. My voice is quiet, there’s very little air in my lungs.
“Of course you don’t, you’re very nearly dead.” He explains as if he were ordering dinner. This doesn’t help me at all, doesn’t he realize that I’m dying? If he wants me to join him doesn’t he need to save me?
“No my dear, I won’t be able to save you. Even if I were inclined to do so, you’ve been much too efficient with that blade. There’s nothing anyone can do for your life now. I’m here to rescue your soul. I’d like to offer you a purpose in your next existence. The only purpose someone like you could possibly dream of. I’d like you to help me find and punish the wicked.”
Before I can ask anything he continues “You have three options. First, I could do nothing. You’ll die as you planned and your soul will be free to move on. This is likely to be most unpleasant for you for a while, but it will end eventually and you’ll suffer no longer at the hands of your family. Second, I could ease your passing. It’s basically the same as option one, but I’ll spare you the discomfort of actually dying and just release your soul right away. The result will be the same, however, and your soul will move on, hopefully with the memory of a kind stranger who appeared when you needed it most. The final option is something akin to a rebirth. I’ll perform a certain ritual over your dying body and bind your soul to it and to myself. Your torment in this life will end, and you’ll join Serena, myself and my acolytes in facilitating retribution for other poor souls like yourself.”
“What happens if you let me die?” I ask, suddenly afraid of my decision.
“That is not for us to reveal.” he says “Life’s greatest mystery cannot be answered by any who choose not to experience it for themselves.”
“But if I stay I can help people like me? I could punish people like Philip?”
“Yes, my dear” he answers, “In fact, we’ll start with Philip. His punishment will be severe. And quite cathartic for you to witness if you choose.”
“Then save me, please! I want to help! I want to make them hurt!”
“Say no more then.” he says as he takes my hand in his. He turns to the girl “Serena, fetch Philip so that we may begin.”
Serena smiles wickedly and skips out of the room silently. The man reaches into the tub and lifts me out. For the first time I notice that the water is red. I’m carried into my tiny bedroom and wrapped in a fluffy blanket. This is new? I don’t remember owning anything so soft. Or clean, the scent of a spring breeze fills my nostrils. I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, weak from blood loss but somehow growing stronger.
Serena appears at the door dragging Philip by the hair. He’s straining to escape, but is obviously overmatched by the tiny girl. Philip’s eyes are wide in panic as he claws at her hands attempting to break her grip somehow.
The man speaks to me again. “Grace, do you wish to be reborn? To leave behind the life you have forsaken and find new purpose in the torment of those who torment the innocent?”
“I… yes?” I stammer.
“There can be no uncertainty, Grace.” he says “Answer boldly, confidently! Do you wish to join us in our task of inflicting pain on those who inflict pain on others?”
“Yes!” I answer
“Do you agree to serve me in this task? To seek out the abused of this world at my bidding? To bring me news of innocent victims and then to aid them in recovery by breaking the bodies and minds of their abusers?”
“YES!” I say, this time with all the conviction I can manage.
“Then lay back and unwrap yourself.”
This command was not what I was expecting. He said he’d help punish Philip. And then we’d go find someone else like Philip and we’d punish them too! Why do I need to be naked anymore? Am I trading one abuser for another?
“Child, you have nothing to fear.” He says. The tone of his voice is different this time. I didn’t hear him, I felt him. “This will be, unpleasant. But I promise that this will be the last uncomfortable moment you need to endure for as long as you serve me faithfully.”
I still don’t know about this, but the way he’s looking at me makes me want to believe. If anyone could promise to take my pain away and mean it, it’s this man. I lay back on the bed slowly and allow the wonderful, soft, fragrant blanket to fall away. The man crawls into bed next to me. I recoil on instinct, but his eyes tell me to relax. This is not what it seems.
Strong fingers find my chin and turn it to face him. I’m lost staring into the deepest, grey eyes I can imagine. His lips touch mine briefly and a flash goes off in my head. I’m blinded to everything but him. Another quick kiss and my ears start to ring, the only thing I can hear is his breathing next to me. My entire body is tingling now. I can feel everything. Everything but pain. The sensation is overwhelming and I start to tremble.
I should feel shame, that’s the emotion that comes with this feeling. Shame and helplessness. My body says that this should feel good, but this experience has never been pleasant for me. Until now. A warmth is growing inside me. I feel it originate between my legs and spread like wildfire across my body.
Those strong fingers are still under my chin. His lips meet mine for the third time and the heat in my center turns to electric pulses. The only things I can feel now are things related to him. He isn’t touching me anywhere but my chin but I feel the muscles twitch in anticipation of release. My body knows that this time it’s different. This time it’s ok to enjoy it.
“Are you sure?” His voice booms in my head, drowning the ringing.
“Yes, please sir, let me join you.” I answer
“Very well.” he says as he leans in for another kiss. But this time it isn’t a kiss. This time those strong fingers push my chin higher still and his lips close on my neck. Then I feel it. The bite. Long fangs pierce the tender skin of my throat. The feeling is sublime. It should hurt, someone biting into my neck should be cause for greatest alarm. But it doesn’t. Instead I feel the unmistakable sensation of an orgasm wash over my entire body as He sucks on the blood pouring from my veins. Suddenly my world is black.
—
“Can I let this one go yet?” Serena asks. He’s thrashing around like a giant fish that’s been dragged from the water.
“Not quite yet,” I answer. “He may try to escape and his participation is crucial for Grace’s recovery.”
I lean over the bed and gently shake Grace until she stirs. I’ve rewrapped her in the blanket and fused the hem into a shawl that should allow her the use of her arms while providing the modesty she desires.
“Grace, it is time.” I say. “If you wish to join us, you’ll need to feed on him soon.”
“What!? Feed? On him?”
“Yes Grace, you’ve lost nearly every drop of blood in your body. You need to replace that blood by drinking his. You know what to do.”
“I don’t,” she protests “How could I? I’m a vegan!”
“Search your feelings Grace.” I say. “They’ll guide you, I’ll guide you. And there are no vegans among us, your existence depends on consuming human life.”
I can see the strength in her grow. She stands, taller than before, proud for the first time since this miserable person laid eyes on her mother. She crosses the room in three long strides. Serena lifts Philip to his feet by yanking his hair upward.
Grace looks at Serena for reassurance, but finds nothing. She looks at me, desperate for me to tell her to stop. I only nod.
Then, as if a switch were thrown in her mind, Grace sinks her teeth into Phillips neck. The first gush of blood hits the ceiling and splatters around the room. Grace shifts her lips slightly and catches the second spurt. And the third.
I stand over Grace as Philip’s legs begin to buckle. Serena releases her grip on his hair and his body crumples to the floor. Grace follows it down and continues sucking blood from his neck. I see her shift her bite occasionally and chew a little to open the holes wider. As she takes in the first meal of her new existence I recite the words I first uttered over a millennia ago.
“Sister, I bind you, body and soul, to myself and my service. You shall search for injustice among the living and visit retribution on behalf of those to weak to seek it themselves. You shall answer to me alone and you shall heal your soul until you are ready for what comes next.”
As I finished speaking, there was thunk behind Serena. The three of us turned to see Grace’s mother standing with a baseball bat in her hands. Serena, realizing that she’d been struck, reached out and grabbed the woman by her throat.
“Wait, she is not to be harmed yet.” I say. “This woman’s fate is for Grace to decide. And Grace, don’t drain him completely, you may wish him to remain alive in the end.”
Grace looked up at me, hungry but obedient. She released Philip’s body and stood to face her mother. The poor woman was nearly catatonic. “Grace, please. Please don’t kill me. I’m your mother.”
“Quiet!” Serena screams, squeezing the woman’s neck to silence her whimpers. “What kind of mother abandons her daughter to abuse at the hands of someone? What kind of mother participates in that abuse to spare herself pain?”
“You don’t know what he’s like! He would have hurt me more. He said he was teaching her to be a good wife to someone and that he’d beat me if I interfered.”
“Silence” my voice echoes through the house. “You had ample opportunity to escape, to save your daughter from the abuse she’s suffered for years. You chose to remain and you chose to allow her to be tortured. Your fate will be decided after she has time to think. For now, sleep. The respite is more than you deserve.” I touch her forehead with a finger and she collapses in a heap on the floor.
“Now that she’s been dealt with,” I say, turning towards Grace, “you must have questions. We’ll leave you to get dressed and then go find a quiet place to talk. Serena, get her mother’s keys and father’s wallet. Grace, please dress quickly. We have all the time we need but none to waste. Others need my attention tonight and I can’t leave you until we decide how to treat your mother and stepfather.
—
Serena drove us to an Italian restaurant that offered a party room. We booked it for ourselves and made small talk until the food was delivered. Serena pressed several hundred dollars of Philip’s money into the server’s hand with instructions that were not to be disturbed for any reason.
I leaned back in my chair before speaking. “I can feel your questions but rather than invade your mind again I’d like to offer you the chance to ask them in the order you prefer. Some I will not be able to answer tonight, others can only truly be answered by experience, the rest I will explain as well as I can.”
“Who? What are you?”
“Of course, I haven’t introduced myself. My true name is in an ancient language that is not from this world, but for the last 700 years I have answered to John. As to what I am, you might call me a deity.”
“You’re God?”
“Not quite. I am one of many. I answer to the one who sits above us all. But he would claim to also be one of many, with his purpose being too oversee and guide the rest of us.”
“So, more like an angel, then?”
“No. The angels of Christianity were created as subjects to the one true God. As I said, the one who sits above me considers himself to be my equal, just with a different purpose. His purpose is to see all and direct us towards our own purpose. However, my purpose was assigned by no one but myself. He merely facilitates my desires. In return, I do what I can to facilitate his.”
“Ok, you’re a god, but not the God. What is Serena?”
“Serena is one of my acolytes here on Earth. I rescued her soul much like I rescued yours. The story of how her soul came to require rescuing is hers to tell and not appropriate for this moment.”
“You bit my neck, and then I bit Philip’s. I drank his blood.”
“That wasn’t a question, but I assume you’re asking if we’re vampires.”
“Yes. Well, am I a vampire?”
“We are almost certainly the inspiration for vampires in popular culture. However, the movies and books are wrong about nearly every detail of our existence beyond the fact that we drink blood to sustain ourselves.”
“So if I don’t drink blood, I’ll die?”
“No, you are already dead. However, you will, over time, lose the gifts I’ve bestowed on you and eventually your body will no longer be able to support your soul. At that time your soul will depart for what comes next.”
“And what is that?”
“I cannot say. The mortal hereafter is a mystery to all who have not crossed over.”
“So what is it that you and your acolytes do, exactly?”
“We search for tormented souls and offer assistance. In many cases, that assistance is a glimpse into our world and the reassuring knowledge that they are not alone. We also seek creative ways to dissuade their tormentors from continuing their behavior.”
“So, you kill them?”
“Does that thought bother you? Do you disagree that death is the proper punishment for those who harm others for their own entertainment?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess in some situations death is appropriate. But in others…”
“Quite right,” I say as her voice trails off. “In many cases, death is too severe. We usually try to deliver retribution at the appropriate level. In your situation, Philip and your mother abused you for years and kept you from ever feeling happiness. This constant torture broke your soul so fully that death itself was the only catharsis. In extreme cases we will take life, but as I said we try to find creative solutions to ensure that the abusers can be trusted to stop. This is always preferred, as death can be cathartic for the abuser as well.”
“Death is too good for them, you mean?”
“Exactly!” She’s beginning to understand. “If Philip were to die tonight, his experience may well be over. As I said I do not know what happens to the souls of mortals after death, but I believe that I have encountered the same souls multiple times. This realization made me rethink my approach to punishing. If a way can be found to make a person safe to release, then we can prolong the time that person spends living with the guilt of their actions. This is why I kept you from fully draining Philip and why I’ve done nothing to your mother, yet.”
“Why do you want to punish her? She was abused too, she couldn’t stop Philip.”
“Perhaps she couldn’t have overpowered him, but for several years she allowed, then aided him in his almost daily abuse of you. If I left her unchanged by this experience, do you think your younger sister will be safe?”
“But without Philip she’ll be fine.”
“No, when your father left her something was damaged. She lost her sense of self worth and sought out someone who valued her only for what was between her legs. Then, upon marrying your mother, he turned his attention to you, her teenage daughter. You were how old when his abuse started?”
“I’d just turned 18.”
“And your sister is how old?”
“She’ll be 17 in six weeks.”
“So, it is entirely possible that your mother could find and marry another monster before she comes of age and can legally extricate herself. That assumes that the next monster would even wait for her to turn 18.”
“What will you do to her?”
“That is up to you. Let’s start with Philip though. What would you have me do to him?”
“What he did to me, for a start.”
“An eye for an eye. There’s certainly ample precedent for that approach. I even have several acolytes who would be eager to help. But is there nothing more? Think, a divine being is offering you assistance in punishing the man who isolated you from your friends and abused you for so long that your only option for release was to end your own life.”
“Is there a way to send him to prison? And could we have someone rape him?”
“Yes, that can be arranged. Any other ideas?”
“Blind him and cut his dick off? Even if he spends his life in jail, he could still find a way to abuse someone there.”
“Yes, that will do nicely.”
—
The ride back to Grace’s house was filled with planning. I confirmed that there were no cameras or other security devices that might interfere with the story we intended to illustrate. The only uncomfortable part was how to dismember Philip.
“I still don’t want to bite it off.” Grace says, for the third time.
“Then how do we explain where it went?” Serena asks, also for the third time. “We’re trying to convince the police that you snapped while he was abusing and decided to make him pay. He reacted to that by killing you and disposing of your body. Then your mother came home, found out that he’d killed you and decided to blind him and murder him before attempting to kill herself. We need some triggering event for him to ‘kill’ you.”
“But how will you get him to agree to that?”
“I am able to influence human memory and behavior somewhat.” I say. “We’ll remove his penis somehow and then crudely bandage it. Your suicide left the bathroom a bloody mess, so it shouldn’t be hard to believe that he took you in there, murdered you and then passed out after disposing of your body.”
“He does keep a knife on the end table next to his chair. He uses it for picking at his nails and threatening me while he raped me.”
“That could work.” Serena agrees “Let’s see how everything plays out once we stage the bodies.”
“But how are we going to cover up the bite marks?” Grace asks.
“Those bites are invisible to mortals. Did you notice the scars on Serena’s neck?”
“What scars?” both ladies asked at once.
“Exactly.”
—
Staging the house took about an hour. We removed Grace’s mother to a den to keep her relatively clean while we put Philip in his chair. He was beginning to wake up as we finished cleaning the blood off the ceiling from Grace’s first bite. I moved to stand over him as his eyes fluttered open.
“Hello there, I’m glad you’re finally awake. We have much to discuss.” I say. The panic in his face is almost comical. If what we were doing wasn’t based on such a terrible history I think Serena and I might have laughed for days. Grace however, was terrified at facing her abuser so we maintained composure for her sake.
“Wha? Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house?” Philip started to rise from the chair and instinctively reached for his knife. It wasn’t there.
“We are here to rescue poor Grace from you. Over the next few minutes we’re going to remove your penis, cut out your eyes and slash your throat. Don’t worry though, the cut will miss your arteries so you’re very likely to survive, though some damage to your vocal chords is likely.”
“Like hell” Philip says. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
He’d managed to stand, but his resolve faded quickly once our eyes met. I lightly pushed against his chest and he fell back into the chair as though he’d been knocked down by a heavyweight champion. “Killing you is not our goal. If it were, you would not have been allowed to wake up. I assure you that your situation is hopeless. You will spend the rest of your life in prison for the rape and murder of your stepdaughter Grace.”
“Let’s begin.” I say to Serena and Grace.
Grace looked terrified still as she approached the chair. I moved around behind Philip and touched fingers lightly to his temples. Implanting false memories is tricky work, and simpler stories work best. Even then, the human mind has a way of fighting back.
We moved quickly through the next events. Philip was marched into the bathroom, carefully to not leave extra foot prints in the blood trail we were creating. Grace had already provided her blood for the scene. We then hastily bandaged Philip and created a trail of prints into the garage and some blood spatters in the bed of his truck.
When the time came to bring her mother in for her part, Grace hesitated again. “I can’t, she’s my mom. She didn’t have a choice.”
“I assure you she did, and she chose poorly.” I say in hopes that my small comfort would make it easier. It didn’t work.
“But why are we sending her to jail?”
“Because she is not innocent. I’ve seen her thoughts and memories, she deserves punishment for the role she played in your abuse. I’ll explain further if needed, but I’d prefer not to damage your soul further. We need to finish our work here and leave. Your half-sister and her father will be here soon. It’s best that they find the scene as we planned instead of finding us setting the scene as we are doing now.”
Grace’s resistance broke. I expected it to, and I’m happy that I didn’t need to ruin her memories of her mother further by revealing that initially it was her that suggested Grace as an object to abuse in order to spare herself some misery.
We finished our other preparations, stabbed Philip’s eyes out as he laid in enchanted sleep, slashed his throat, careful to hit the vocal chords but miss major arteries and veins and then placed the knife in Grace’s mother’s hand.
—
“Wake up!” Serena yelled.
The effect was similar to smelling salts. Her eyes opened immediately but her brain lagged behind in comprehending what it was perceiving.
I stepped forward. “You are guilty of aiding and abetting the abuse of your daughter Grace at the hands of your husband. That abuse caused Grace to finally snap and cut off your husband’s penis. Your husband then murdered your daughter and disposed of the body.”
She began to protest. “That’s not what happened.”
“It is what the evidence in your home will show. You will confess to blinding and killing your husband in a rage after discovering your daughter’s murder. Law enforcement will consider this as a mitigating circumstance, but some incarceration will be necessary.”
“So you’re letting me go? If I confess?”
“Your punishment will be living with that memory and the loss of your daughter for the rest of your life. I will be removing the thoughts that justified this abuse from your mind, as well as the memory of this conversation. You will also attempt to kill yourself in a guilt driven frenzy.”
“No! I can’t” she screamed.
“You can, and you WILL!” The force in my statement was felt by all. Grace watched in horror as her mother looked at the knife with blank, uncomprehending eyes. Slowly, the woman adjusted her grip on the knife and opened one wrist at a time.
I moved aside to avoid the growing pool of blood at her feet, placing a hand on the back of her head and murmured the words to remove the memories that justified so much pain for Grace. When it was done, her mother collapsed into an inconsolable mess. Her last words before passing out were a weak apology to the daughter she forgot how to love.
—
We left through the back door, again carefully not disturbing the blood trails in the house. We waited in Serena’s car for Grace’s half-sister to arrive with her father. As the sister was stepping out of the car I reached out with my mind to examine her soul. It was somehow strong and healthy. I’d love to punish her for remaining whole while Grace suffered so greatly, but the loss of her mother should be enough.
Through the connection I made the girl aware that the door was open, raising an internal alarm. Her father, protective of his little girl as he should be, sent her to wait in the locked car while he went inside to discover our work.
I then connected with him, felt the shock of discovering his ex wife’s body and the panic of what he’d just walked into. I broke our connection when I heard the words on the other end of his phone, “Des Moines Police, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
—
I turned to face Grace in the back seat, smiling for the first time in hours. “So, what kind of distraction can we find for ourselves in this town?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qsjnm2/birth_of_a_vampire_in_des_moines