The tailor has scarcely gone with his measurements. I stand, straightening my garments, and ponder what this Naming holds. From what Sire tells I assume it’s to be some sort of gathering where I’m introduced to others of my kind. William the newest Vampire in the Order of Aurelius. Calls to some nature of aristocracy. Though it sounds rather preposterous listening to Drusilla singing it throughout our home.

Last night I slept between Sire and Darla. She curled behind me, held me tight to her chest, and drifted off to sleep. She was exhausted from the Naming preparations and a problematic hunt. I wanted to touch her, the way I touched Drusilla. I ached in my groin, an unmercifully painful erection pressed against my stomach. Instead, I remained paralyzed in her arms. When Sire finally lay beside us, he took one long breath and shook his head. ‘Ye have much to learn, William.’ He whispered, and began stroking me until I completed in his hand. It was only then that I could find rest.

I feel, rather than hear, Sire enter the room. His strong hands find their way to my waist, and he leans against me.

“Good boy, yerself.”

I shift back against him, and tilt my head to the side, hoping his lips will play along my neck.

“What is it you’d be wantin’, lad?”

“Anything you’d give, Sire.”

“Yer a giving boy, my pup. Always giving.”

“Is this not what you desire?”

The arms around me tighten, and I feel his firmness pressed against me.

“Yer very aware of what I desire, my boy. But what does my William desire, then?”

“You.”

It’s true. For all the hunger that burns for Darla, the passion that smolders for Drusilla, the thirst I hold for Penn… it’s Sire’s touch that thrills me, that comforts me. His touch that brings me this delirium of pleasure.

“Ye’d be speakin’ the truth, wouldn’t ye then?”

“To be sure.”

“Tis the very idea that yer bein’ used as comfort that entices ye?”

Well, I hadn’t considered why. That answer sounds sufficient enough. But shouldn’t I feel shame for such wanton thoughts? A longing to be treated as some common whore?

“I don’t know.”

“You’d be in a position to tell me, now wouldn’t ye Childe.”

“I would… if I knew, myself.”

“But you do, William.”

“Honestly, Sire…”

“Do you trust me, lad?”

“I do.”

“Then do not fear shamin’ yerself before me.”

“I’m not… I merely wish…”

“To be regarded as my concubine? My courtesan… my whore?”

The sound of these words whispered out against my ear… The arousal… I place my hand over his and move it to my clothed member.

“Is that what, William? Wish to be offerin’ yerself up to me? To be exploited?”

“Yes.”

“From all of us?”

“Only you.”

“Aye. Always?”

He turns me to face him. I lower my head in disgrace. My confession looming over me. His hand lifts my chin, and I meet his eye.

“Always, William?”

His eyes aren’t condemning me. They’re gentle and inviting. As though he’s merely attempting to be clear on what it is that I long for.

“Not always… just… “

“But you could never truly be my whore, William. Surely, yer aware, you have my heart beguiled.”

“And what we do?”

“Tis but a sport, lad.”

“Where will I stand with you in the morrow?”

“Ye’ll put those fears to rest straight away. I’ll always love you, William. Of that, you can be sure.”

“I understand. And my love for you will be eternal, as well.”

His eyes close, and his hands caress my face. The expression he holds is almost sadness.

“What is it, Sire? I’m sorry. What have I done?”

“Ah, boy. Tis the first time ye’ve voiced this.”

“But you’ve known! You must have known! All along, you’ve known!”

“Shh, lad. I’ve known. Only delightin’ in the words now, if it pleases yer. Tis a powerful moment, you see.”

“I do, Sire. I do love you. With all my heart, I do.”

“Say it again, William. I fear my ears are playin’ tricks on me.”

He smiles and leans into me, his nose brushing my cheek.

“I love you, Angelus.”

“Once more.”

“I love you, for all time.”

“Ah, against what I’d be wishin’ at this very moment, I’ll take you the way ye’d be wantin’.”

“Tell me...”

“Time enough for that later, boy. Display yerself for me.”

His arms drop from around me, thumbs hooking into the front of his trousers, and he takes a step back. Regarding me. Viewing me, as I slide the fabric down my legs, and begin to unbutton my shirt.

“You wouldn’t be after wastin’ my time, now would ye?”

“No, I…”

“Expose yerself… offer yerself to me.”

Closing my eyes, I shiver with the excitement that pulses into my sex at his words. The shirt I wear is split down the front, and cast to the floor, and I stand before him bared. With a tilt of his head, and a finger placed thoughtfully on his lips, he observes my nakedness.

“Show me what I paid for, lad.”

Turning away, I climb onto the bed, position myself on my knees and press my face to the coverlet. Random sensations echo through me, and Sire closes in. His hand against my rear, pulling me open, fingers tweak around my entrance, settle with a hard pinch… and I yelp, with the bliss of it.

“This belongs to me. You’ll be worthy of yer earnings this eve, won’t ye?”

“I will…”

My lips brush the bedclothes when I speak. My voice is frayed, and breathy… Sire provoking enticements from deep within me. I tremble beneath the heat of his stare. I cannot see his eyes, but I sense them on me.

“I’m not able to set eyes on enough of you, boy. Expose the only place I’d care to be seein’, now.”

Reaching my hands behind me, I grip my backside, and part myself to his eyes. A strangled moan, and I can feel him composing himself.

“Oh, a perfect little whore, ye are.”

My member twitches, and throbs, I ache in my access, and pull myself further apart.

“That’s a greedy little hole ye have there, William. Already clenchin’ for me.”

“Ah, Angelus…”

I moan as he slides a finger across me. Crane my head to the side, and get a view of him.

“Don’t be gawkin’ at me, boy.”

Bury my head in the bedclothes again, and breathe in deep. I can smell him here. That fragrance of delicious, musky spice fills me with desire. His scent… the most potent aphrodisiac.

“Tell me, William… does this bring you the excitement? The pleasure, in being the one with easy virtue…”

“Yes…”

I’m groaning and thrusting against empty air. I feel oil being spilled over my rear, and powerful fingers working into me.

“Are you aware of what a man does when in the company of a whore, lad?”

“No…”

“He uses that fallen soul… takes his pleasure, with no regard for satisfying the one he’s with.”

Breathing, and my mouth waters… I wet my lips with my tongue and stifle a moan.

“Would that be your wish, then?”

“Yes…”

And it sounds strangled and fractured. The thrill of this position courses through me. The sparks I felt prickling my skin on my first night have returned. The oil on my backside makes it impossible for me to keep myself open for him. A steady hand falls on my rear with a loud smack, and I wince and groan around the pain.

“Mind yerself.”

I dig my fingers into the flesh, and hold as tight as I can. I feel the fabric from his trousers against the back of my thighs, and the bluntness of his member pressed against my opening.

“Be still.”

His sex pierces me with one victorious pump. My body is trembling, and I’m openly sobbing. With hard vicious thrusts, his hips pummel against my rear. The hands on my own hips grip tightly and I’m crying out in pleasure. Moaning his name, calling out for more. I struggle to keep myself still for him. But this lust for him is burning like an ember embedded in my chest… and I can’t help but wish to press back against him… to glide along his sex… to feel his heavy sac swinging against my own.

“That’s it, boy… still… keep still for me.”

“Sire… more… please…”

“Ah, lad. Shh, wouldn't do to be hearin' yer voice now”

A hand covers my mouth, and the other reaches around my hip to toy with my sac. I kiss the fingers against my lips. Kiss them. Wet them with my tongue. Moan against them in appreciation.

“Yer aware I’m holdin’ yer sac because it pleases me. This isn’t for you, lad. It brings me comfort. Pleases my fingers, so it does.”

And so many words escape my lips, only to be muffled by the large hand on my face. The freedom to lose myself here is unparalleled. Everything I keep inside, and tucked away is liberated against these fingers. The words, the kisses… the words… use me… use me… use me.

“Ah, no. That little muscle inside is provokin’ me, boy.”

I’m losing myself in the sensations. Sensations of an ocean quenching a parched and cracked earth. The arc of his sex thumping within me. The wetness from my kisses on his hand, as fingertips caress my cheeks. The rough coverlet scratching my forehead, as each of his thrusts drive me further into the bed.

“Needin’ my release, William. Pull that pretty cock o’ yours, milk me with yer pleasure.”

Instantly my hand is on my erection, gripping and fisting along the curve. Begging and pleading against these fingers. Oh God. My sac drawing up against my knuckles… and I feel us plunge together in a transport of taste and sight and sound. The wetness spreading across my fingers, and soaking me inside. Twisting and squirming, we writhe together in suspended completion until the rigorous thrusting shifts into long languorous pumps. The hand releasing my mouth, and the body of my Master slumps atop my own.

“Are you all right, my pup?”

Soft lips press against the back of my neck, and his sex slips from within me.

“I am.”

“Would you like to be joinin’ the ladies now?”

“Where has Penn gone?”

“Off to collect yer shoes for the Naming. Our Darla, a very particular lass, herself. T’wouldn’t do havin’ her boys clothed in anything less than the finest, if yer don’t mind.”

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Will you take me out on the hunt tonight?”

“Not until after the Naming, lad. Till then, you’ll carry on takin’ yer nourishment from us four.”

“What transpires after the Naming?”

“Yer recognized in our Order. A Vampire that hunts without a name is surely doomed to a brutal end.”

“But I have a name… William.”

“Aye, lad, but ye do. William of Aurelius. Tis but a formality, you see.”

I grin at him, and pull myself onto his chest.

“Certainly has a superior ring than ‘William the Bloody Awful Poet’.”

Suddenly, his expression is dark. Eyebrows push together and his jaw clenches.

“Exactly who would it be that called you that, boy?”

I raise my thumb to his brow, and smooth out the furrow.

“It’s of no importance now.”

His large hands rest on either side of my face, and he regards me seriously.

“Tis of great importance to me.”

“It was only meant to provoke me. I didn’t pay it much mind.”

“Aye, provoke you. I see. Perhaps we need to pay them a visit.”

Bury my head in his neck, and breathe him in. I don’t wish to remember what I was. What I am is all that matters now.

“Is yer belly empty, my boy?”

“Yes.”

“Take yer nourishment, then. Let the feed come upon ye.”

Carefully I pierce his flesh, and draw him in. I feel his hands slide down my flanks and settle on my backside.

“Ah, that’s a good lad.”

He whispers, as his fingers slowly enter me, and begin stroking softly. I moan quietly, and continue drinking him in.

“William… ah boy, what you do to me. Could die, starving from the hunger for you, so I could.”

My teeth retract, and I’m licking and lapping at the swiftly closing holes in his flesh. The sounds of contentment reverberate in my chest.

“Come now, lets get ye washed. Wouldn’t do to have you runnin’ about in yer pelt.”

“I would have thought you preferred me in this state.”

He’s answering my grin with a hearty laugh, and pulling me to lie beside him.

“You’re insatiable, my little devil.”

“I am?”

“Don’t be playin’ coy with me, William…”

“I am.”

And we’re laughing together now. Laughing and rolling about the bed. Blankets bunching under our fingers, as we play at trying to catch one another. There is a knocking at the doorframe, both of us peeking from under the covers to catch sight of Darla standing at the entrance.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Ah, lass. I merely came in to see to the lads’ state of dressing.”

“I dare say you’ve seen to his undressing quite well, Angelus. It certainly is a testament to your restraint where he’s concerned.”

“Join us?”

She smiles so sweetly, I do believe I’m in danger of my skin turning to puddles at her feet.

“I would, but I’m a bit troubled at the moment.”

“What is it, Darla?”

“Penn…”

Sire bolts upright and stares at her.

“Spit it out, lass. What’s happened?”

“Drusilla is balled on the floor, crying for him. Sobbing his name over and over again.”

“Lets move, boy.”

With blinding speed I’m dressed and trailing behind Sire and Darla through the narrow hallway.

“PennPennPennPennPenn”

Drusilla is in a convulsive fit on the ground, clutching her head and rocking. Sire crouches beside her, and strokes her shoulder.

“Pretty, pretty lass. Sh, now. What is it that has you so saddened?”

“PennPennPennPenn”

I feel Darla’s hand on my elbow, her eyes look uneasy, the other hand fluttering to her brow.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, William.”

She’s offering comfort, but I can smell her apprehension. Sire looks up at Darla, his eyes dark, his mouth in a tight line. For the first time, I’m frightened. Chilled to the bone. Something’s happened. Something horrific.

There is a scratching at the door, and Darla races to open it. Penn comes tumbling in, the front of his coat drenched in blood, and he’s gripping his chest. In an instant, we are all beside him. Darla holding him tightly against her, as tears flood her face.

“What happened, my boy. My Penn. What’s happened to you? Darla, woman, move yer hands now! Now! I can’t see! Open his coat… What’s happened, boy? Ah, God!”

Sire’s hand is on Penn’s chest, and the misery etched on his face is clear.

“Who did this to you?”

“He’s too weak to answer, Angelus! Look! He’s barely made it home!”

Her hand raises to his mouth, and he’s drinking from her wrist. She’s still sobbing, and I’m shifting from foot to foot, and reaching out to touch his hair. Sire is pacing and he punches the wall. The windows rattle under the force of the blow.

“This isn’t helping, Angelus!”

But her voice is so filled with emotion that it’s barely audible. Dru has wrapped herself around Penn’s ankles and she’s humming his name.