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Title: The Vampire Author: Saya (September 2002) Pairing: m/m (Vulcan/human) Rating: NC-17, AU, mind-rape, slight D/s Feedback: Yes, please. Email t_mina@subspacemail.com Summary: All are not equal even in the future. Note: English is not my native language, so be tolerant with possible errors. This story was written for the Vulcan Shadows website. Betas: Voile Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Trek, I own the OCs of this story. No money made from this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The San Franciscan autumn night wrapped around me like the arms of a lover, the moist warmth that still rose from the streets after the sun had set cocooning my existence with a protective shield. Lights from the bars and night clubs sliced the satiny darkness and the scents of alcohol and drugs and greasy food and alien lust wafting from the open doors pulled me towards them like a moth towards a flame. And the whirlpool of emotions I sensed when I let my shields drop -- that was my lifeblood. That was the reason why I had found my home here, in the district of Height Ashbury, a district which had upheld its infamous glory of being an asylum for the 'different' for centuries before this time. What I remembered of the cultural history of Earth and the former national state of the United States of America The Height had once been a cheap, lower class area populated by a community of artists and idealists, then a peaceful but well esteemed high class suburb, but now it had found its way back to the beginning and worse. No one asked questions here. Everything was on sale. The predominant emotions I caught from the denizens of this neighborhood were pain, bitterness and nonchalance. Their emotions drove them to search for stronger and stronger stimulants to activate their numbed brains and offer them a momentary escape from the suffocating one-way-road that lay before them. This was my hunting ground. Because, even in this era when the alliances were formed in galactical level and some people took their holiday trips to the worlds thirty lightyears away as easy as they had once flown across the continents, the glory of the stars was only accessible to those with money, brains and connections. And even if the middle of those qualities was exalted in politicians' speeches everyone knew it were the first and the last that really made the deal. Since the dawn of advanced robotics human labor had lost the last shreds of profitability it had once held and the millions and millions of the lower and middle class -- as they had once been called -- had become useless and nothing but a burden for the so-called 'world government', whose only interest had been to raise this species called Homo Sapiens to the intergalactic elite of space-travelling races. 'World government', indeed... I waxed cynical to my own musings while walking down a barely lit, litter-covered urine-stinking alley and thinking of this planet's pursuits in trying to form a planet-wide unity. Mostly this government consisted of the representatives of the former national states of the United States of America, Russia, Japan and Europe -- from which the latest had mostly resembled a bunch of quarrelsome native tribes after the constitution of the United Europe had been forcefully hammered through after years of inner conflicts and political blackmail inside its predecessor, the so-called European Union. Naturally, the former superpower, the United States, still held well over 60% of the voice in this government. Even after the 'oil jihad' had ended when the crude oil supplies of this planet had exhausted and the world had passed through the stage of hydrogen economy to the era of low-power cold fusion cells as the main power source for everyday energy, the friendliness that Russia had once showed towards the United States' arch enemies -- Arabic countries -- and the 'second cold war' after the United States' attack on former national states of Iraq, Libya and Saudi-Arabia in attempt to 'weed out the terrorism' and 'break the axis of evil' had resulted in the notable chilling between these two countries that had once competed for the mastery of this planet. And even if over two centuries had passed since this attack, the 'cold war' had only become colder. On the other hand, since the disintegration of the Soviet Union in the end of the 20th century the income disparities between the former Party members and other priviledged and the 'worker class' had swelled to such a scale that the local government still had its hands full of keeping the millions of angry and disgruntled citizens from rising on the barricades and starting a nation-wide riot. Also, in two and half centuries the distress over the communistic totalitarism had been blissfully forgotten and the rise of the neo-socialistic party and the local government's incapability and the lack of economic resources to keep this movement in bay did nothing good to the delicate balance of mutual tolerance between the local governments of the United States and Russia. I stepped into the next bar along the alley, positioned myself on the barstool and ordered a Romulan Ale, as was my habit. No one paid any attention to me, neither to my illegal order or to my appearance. I used my shoulder-length hair to cover my pointed ears and slanted eyebrows, and in addition to that the low lighting toned my greenish-bronze skin color so that I didn't much differ from the representatives of the Terran Asian race, so I blended in quite well. Although no one would have probably minded me being a Vulcan. These people here were too tired to care. Things were how they were and they were incapable to do anything about the facts. They were unemployed because there simply was no work for them. They were out of regular income simply because of the 'world government's' out-of-limits-ambitious space budget had taken the unemployment compensations and social security from them. They were second -- no, the *lowest* class citizens with no use in this brave new world where glorious spaceships travelled the skies and a carefully selected and highly praised -- and paid -- crews of men and women spread the culture of this race to the stars. The bartender's slightly oriental features brought more things from the Earth political history class into my mind. Japan had finally --and again, after hundreds of years -- taken its place among the new 'superpowers' after the breakthrough of piko-bionic technology and so-called 'bio-cybernetic revolution' in the middle of the 21th century. Productive representatives of the Human race, these Japanese. I smiled slightly when I thought how many workers -- mostly from the former national states of China and Korea, which now belonged to Japan -- in these 'new technology' corporations had simply burned themselves out and ended their lives by their own hand when the pressures of the job had become insurmountable. I quickly finished my first ale and ordered another. I let my gaze roam the bar and I sucked the energy of the uncontrolled emotions into my mind through my lowered shields. The emotional energy -- though it was mostly the dark and bitter kind -- filled my mind and excited my body. They went together -- mental caresses of these freely released cries of pain and silent pleas of help... help to forget -- and the reactions of my body, the arousal I felt when I knew how I could help these people. Help... to clean. I was not the only 'alien' in the room -- I spotted a fair number of Orion prostitutes with drugged eyes, a few Ferengi traders, a heavily drunken Andorian and a couple of Orion males, probably owners of the prostitutes and a scantily-clad Kzin... seemingly a prostitute too, judging by the clearly drug-affected gaze she gave to me across the counter. I smiled at her empty eyes when she slinked to lean against the counter beside me and wrapped her long, softly-furred tail suggestively around my leg. She was beautiful in her own way, I had to admit, but she was not what I was looking for. I had learned that human emotions was the drug I needed. And in their most pure and original form... extracted straight from the mind. I almost felt something -- sadness? -- for the Kzin... I wondered what had made her leave her home world and end up here, in the middle of these losers, to spread her delicately shaped, silky thighs for this stinking scum. I wondered, but I did not feel pity or compassion or empathy for these people, quite the contrary. My cultural upbringing had taught me to clear myself of emotion, and even if I hadn't completely succeeded in that in my homeworld, *this* world had definitely made the difference. I weighed the reasons and motives and consequences and even the suggestions of remedy for the situation in my head, but to speak the truth, it was meaningless to me. This planet and its cultural history just interested me, that was the only reason I had come here and started to study the guidelines that had formed this world into the state it was now. I couldn't have cared less for the fates of these forgotten people in these slums, I simply fed on them and gave them the sweet oblivion that they craved. Sometimes the oblivion was final, but it had been their own choice -- their untrained, weak minds couldn't lie to me. The exchange between me and them was simply logical -- we both got what we needed. If I felt any 'emotion' it was simply greed... or disgust. I noticed he was beautiful when he arranged himself on the barstool next to me. After his pale blue gaze roamed my form and the blue liquid that glittered in my glass he also ordered a Romulan Ale. He winked at me and clinked the rim of his glass against mine, saying that I had a good taste in poison. I saw he had not yet reached the bottom -- he still had life in his eyes and though his clothes were old and worn they seemed clean. I smiled slightly at him and raised my own glass in salute, asking if he was enjoying the evening. He was already inebriated, I noticed upon studying him closer, but the brightness and power of his emotions engulfed me and made my body respond to his mental call. He wanted me, I knew it even without touching. My slender sinewy form and handsome face had done their trick as so many times before. I was relieved, this night's hunting was over. And I was pleased that I had caught a male. For some reason male humans tended to hide their emotions in public more than the female representatives of the race, but under the tough shell those hidden reserves had such power, delicacy and fragility that I couldn't resist. He shifted himself so close that his knee brushed against my thigh and I saw, from the corner of my eye, that he had noticed the slight bulge in my trousers. We sat and drank in silence for awhile and through the light physical contact I sensed a slight elevation in his breathing and a small rise in his blood pressure -- he was ready. I turned to him and lowered my voice to a smooth caress, asking if he wished to continue the evening in more quiet surroundings. He finished his ale and smiled again his boyish smile, saying that he knew a little cheap hotel nearby and that the owner was his friend and that there were always vacant rooms. I paid the drinks for both of us and stepped after him into the dark alley, wincing again at the smell of poverty and dirt and human excretion that flashed against my face. I followed him, stepping over undefined lumps on the ground, not sure if they were living beings or simply heaps of trash. He led me through more narrow alleys and unlit gateways to the area a little closer to the 'official' parts of the city. Borderline area, I thought, streets still barely lit and covered with litter, but the air was a bit fresher and the prostitutes and drug dealers that made their silent businesses in the shadows were not so skeleton-thin and unwashed as in the deepest pits of this town. This was where the middle class of the underworld lived, feeding on the scum but still owned and their actions dictated by the uppermost levels, drug mafia and other professional criminality which was having its heyday now when the appropriations for police and inside investigation had been cut to the minimum in order to bear the costs of space exploration. The shine of the stars had blinded the eyes of the decision-makers from the problems of the big grey masses. Not that I would have complained -- this dark reality woke up my equally dark passions and predatory instincts and provoked a triumphant inner smile over what my homeworld had done to me. If this world didn't much care how its citizen's made their living, my own world and its High Council surely had its snoopers everywhere, only waiting for one to make the slightest slip from the generally accepted pattern of behaviour. The alternative punishments were either retraining at Gol, or deportation from the planet. I would had rather killed myself honorably than chosen the slow deterioration of my mind to one of those empty-eyed robots in the chambers of Gol. So I accepted the deportation order, bowed, and left Vulcan without ever looking back again. With the family money I was free to go anywhere I wished, and those few encounters with Humans when I still lived on Vulcan made my decision easy -- and logical. In the daytime I was an honorary university student but at night and in reality I was an addict, and here in the middle of the other addicts I felt free and at home. The hotel lobby was sparsely furnished and dimly lit, and I noticed the slightly wary and reserved looks the few customers there gave to me. I let a small cold smile curl my lips and walked past them to the stairs, following my sweet and innocent victim. Probably the lobby scum thought me as some big name in 'business', with my stylish clothing and polished looks. We climbed up a few floors and he opened a door, saying that this was his 'apartment' the times he had 'business' in San Fransisco. The room fit into the surroundings well with its stained walls and ceiling and scruffy furniture. I let my gaze roam and noticed dried stains on the bedclothes -- apparently my partner had not been spending his nights in solitude. The combined smell of tobacco, booze, sex and dirt that had long ago clung to the walls and textiles in the room disgusted and excited me at the same time; this contradiction of emotions was exactly what I needed to forget the last shreds of my morals and inflame my destructive needs. My partner must have noticed the inner change in my attitude because his smile which had been flirtateous and almost challenging changed into a meek, lopsided grin, like a little boy's who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The arousal and want I sensed in his freely broadcasted emotions before were now mixed with fear. I shook my head slightly to make sure my shoulder-length hair covered my pointed ears and the slanted tips of my eyebrows. I had learned through painful experience that the representatives of my race were not too much wanted in this neighbourhood. Many of these people blamed Vulcans and the First Contact for contaminating their world and filling the heads of the politicians with unrealistic images and envy for the more developed species and thus stealing the bread from their mouths because of their space exploration daydreams. I smiled my most reassuring smile to him and shifted my tunic so that the bulge of my arousal was clearly visible under the faint light from the wall lamp. I told him that I wished his ultimate submission and obedience to my orders and that I would pay him generously if he fulfilled my needs. His pupils dilated and his breath quickened at my words; I saw he was one of those who enjoyed this kind of 'play'. I walked slowly to the other side of the room and leaned against a table, spreading my thighs slightly and placing my other hand on my lap, stroking my rapidly hardening shaft through the material of my trousers. His gaze was fixed at my hand and the slow motion it continued around the length, around the swollen head and ridges, the touch of the fabric between my hand and my sensitized flesh adding to my own, impatient need. I told him to undress and kneel on the floor beside the bed, to lean on it and open his thighs for me. His eyes were glazed and I saw his hands shake slightly when he freed himself of his clothes and piled them neatly on the chair beside the bed. Finally, he stood in front of me fully naked, the low light accentuating the lines of taut muscles and the pale color of his smooth skin. A jolt of arousal shot through me at the sight of him. He was beautiful in his innocent trust, his instinctual fear and his proud erection that jutted towards me, the tip already glistening in anticipation. I thought of how it would have felt to have his beautiful mouth around my own shaft and the touch of his moist pink tongue, that kept licking nervously over his lips, on my glans. But I couldn't take the risk of revealing my true origins -- not yet. I opened my tunic enough to bare my chest and stomach and waved my hand, indicating him to position himself as I had instructed. His wordless obedience inflamed me further, his kneeled figure beside the bed was a prepared meal, a piece of eager flesh that contained an untrained, vulnerable mind full of chaotic energy of unleashed emotions. I dropped my own clothes unceremoniously on the floor. The physical union and its finesses were not my primary goal, they were only a way to make my attack smoother and my victims more helpless to my final purpose. I could have fulfilled my simply sexual needs as much as I had wanted in the 'normal' ways and I had done so, on my own world as well as here, but my dark cravings needed a place without questions, because questions always meant consequenses. I stroked myself to full arousal and I knelt on the floor behind him, pushing his upper body against the mattress with my hand and wrapped the other around his erection. He jumped at the physical contact, my higher-than-human body temperature sending a warning flash through his brain. I enjoyed this reaction knowing some of my partners were excited by the realization that they were about to be fucked by an alien as well as one of the most unattainable races ever known. On the other hand, some were disgusted and some were even terrified. I allowed him to turn his head and look at me, and the small incoherent sounds he made when his gaze travelled down my body to my double-ridged cock indicated he was somewhere between the first and last reactions. I tightened my grasp around his shaft and told him in a low voice that I would take him despite what he thought of it, that it was too late for him to regret. His cock hardened more in my hand at my words and I smiled to him, flashing my canines slightly and pushing his face back onto the mattress. I stroked him with long, firm strokes, twirling my thumb around his glans every time my hand met the head and spreading his oozing precum over it. My own erection nudged against his hole and his muscles quivered as his arousal grew, the cleft between his opened buttocks and his tight pink opening glistening invitingly with a thin sheen of sweat. He started to emit more incoherent sounds when I moved my hips slowly from side to side in circling motion, teasing his hole with the tip of my cock. I let his upper body free and collected some spit in my mouth for lubrication -- I was quickly growing impatient, this one had a wonderfully lively and emotion-filled mind and I wanted to taste it, not waste the whole night in the tedious process of physical joining. I spat on my hand and spread the fluid over his opening and my cock, smiling at his moans when I circled my finger around his sensitive flesh and tipped it gently inside, preparing him for the invasion. He was more than ready, so quickly, bucking his hips against my finger and thrusting his cock into my fist. So beautiful and enticing he was, not like the usual dull-minded drug whores I took when nothing better was available. I felt pity for him and his inevitable fate, but I wanted to live myself and sometimes another had to be sacrificed for one's own good. I pulled my finger out of him and placed my cock against his glistening hole, locking his thighs between the bed frame and my own legs. I pushed my hips forwards and slid into him almost effortlessly, the human-cool, silky walls of his insides caressing my shaft and eliciting a moan of my own. I lowered my upper body atop him, stroking and caressing his smooth skin and reaching under his chest to pinch and tease his nipples. He bent his lower back and spread his legs even more, allowing me to slide deeper, to the hilt. The sensation was most pleasurable, I had to admit, this one was one of the best I had ever had, but this was only the surface, only the physical part and I needed more. I started to fuck him harder, pounding mercilessly into him and rubbing the hard little lump of his prostate deep inside with my ridges. He was moaning and writhing uncontrollably in my grasp now and I slid my free hand to his temple, timing the slip into his mind with the moment of his release, when he was the most defenceless. He came with a wailing cry, his semen spurting into my hand and on the mattress and at that moment I entered his very core, forcefully through the instinctual shields even non-telepaths like humans had, straight to the maelstrom of red-hot orgasmic haze and free fall, connecting this emotional volcano into my synaptic patterns and sucking it all into my own mind, for the few moments of sanity he had left. His subconscious started to struggle immediately, even while his conscious mind and body were still shaking in the aftermath of climax. His mental fight and his horror as his conscious mind realized it was just being ripped apart, the instinctual tightening of his muscles and his ridiculous helpless struggles sent me over the edge also and I rammed my cock violently into him, feeling something tear and hearing his scream of pain and my own harsh groans as my heated fluids shot into him. He writhed under me with all his muscles taut, fighting for dear life to free his mind from the excess entity that was controlling him now, but my naturally stronger physique had no difficulties keeping him at bay, allowing my mind to extract from him all he had to give. I plunged deeper into his mental recesses, crushing the barriers he tried to hold against my invasion, though he had no chance against my trained psionic powers. I sucked into myself all he had felt during his life, his pain over his losses, his disappointment when he had lost his job, his hate and bitterness towards the world he lived in now, his love he had once felt for his dear ones, his ambitions and enthusiasms that he still had from long ago... Deeper and deeper I went, through the layers of his life, pulling all that he was into me to fill the emptiness and cover the bitterness I carried in my own mind, as a lifelong heritage of what my homeworld had done to me. His struggles became weaker and more feeble as more of his shields and barries were broken down, and I quickly checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive. I had been careless in the beginning, the strain had been too much for some minds and they had simply burned out, too many vital connections destroyed to be able to sustain life anymore. His body twitched a few times and relaxed, and I knew I had reached the bottom, the innermost layers of his existence. He was empty but I was full, the colorful energy of his emotions dwelling in my head and giving me the momentary sweet oblivion over my own pain. I pulled my limp member out of him and helped him to lay on the bed, checking his body for external damage and cleaning the trickles of our fluids from the bed and his skin. I walked to the bathroom and washed the scent of him off me before I dressed again. He had woken up and stared at me from the bed with empty eyes and dull smile on his lips. I sat beside him for a moment and stroked his hair soothingly, he would not have any memory what had happened nor who I was. Actually he had nothing left in his mind anymore -- he was blank, all he had ever felt and been wiped off like writing from a sheet of paper. But he was free of pain also, and that was after all what the denizens of this neigbourhood craved the most. Oblivion. I pulled out a bunch of credits and slid them into his pocket, I had promised to pay and I kept my promises. When and if someone would find him, his condition would be explained as an overdose or poisoning by unpure alcohol, nothing worth of further investigation in this area. I wrapped my tunic tighter around me and stepped out into the pale gray San Fransisco morning, letting the silent autumn rain cleanse me of the memory of him as well as any moral doubts of the justification of my actions. - end - Go back to Saya's stories
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