Getting a Bite to Drink

Marguerite slowly turned sideways, placing her legs over Derry's lap. She reclined her head onto his shoulder and took his hand away from her mouth, intertwining her fingers into his. She placed her other hand on his cheek, stroking it slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin as it flushed, the blood so close to the surface.

"I only take a pint every two weeks from a Donor," Marguerite explained softly, the thirst twisted in her stomach, but she remained patient, "I do not wish to weaken those who are kind enough to allow my to feed from their life's blood, and it takes two weeks at the most for the red blood cells to replenish. Some replenish faster, and I have had Donors beg to allow me to feed from them before the two weeks are up, but I always refuse."

Marguerite snuggled her head closer to Derry's neck, her lips breathing mere centimeters from his neck.

"It is unlike any experience you will ever have," she warned him, "While I feed, you will feel a pleasure so great, that it will borderline on pain. Some are unable to speak, many are unable to move. There are a few who barely remember the feeding at all...only the pleasure it brought them. I am not sure what causes this...whether it is something within our saliva, or perhaps we are subconsciously telepathic, and can lightly impact your brain, but rest assured that you would not be in agony."

Marguerite's grip became slightly firmer on the side of Derry's head, and she closed the distance between those few centimeters between her lips and his neck. She kissed his neck lightly.

"Are you sure you want this?" she whispered.

Derry felt an exhilarating excitement flow through him and his heart beat loud and strong in his chest as Marguerite leaned her head against him. For the first time since he could remember, Derry was completely speechless. Words didn't seem to come easily and he would open his mouth, only to close it back a second later. All he could really think of was that he was happy being there beside Marguerite.

No, that's not all he was thinking about. At first, Derry wished to help Marguerite by giving her his blood. But as she described the experience, his heart seemed to pound violently with the almost painful desire to be fed on.

When she asked him if he was sure, all Derry could do was nod his head vigorously as she kissed his neck. He wanted to kiss her back but didn't dare. He delighted in the feel of her fingers intertwined with his, her hand stroking his cheek in what he mistook as love and affection. Derry could not move; so excited, so happy, so afraid was he.

"Yes," he answered softly. Panic gripped him, but he fought it, stroking Marguerite's hair affectionately, leaning his head tenderly on hers. "I trust you," Derry said, barely able to form the words, he was shaking so badly.

Marguerite smiled to herself at Derry's response. It was rare for her to be so readily trusted, but at the same time a bit worried as to what problems some love-sick teenager could bring her.

Marguerite shook such thoughts from her head as she gently maneuvered Derry's head, so that it bent to one side and gave her better access to his neck. Her eyes gleamed, and she could see the minute movements of his carotid artery as it pumped life-giving blood through Derry's body. She positioned her teeth carefully over the vein, the points of her fangs dimpling the skin for few moments before she drove them down into the yielding flesh.

Derry's blood was hot as it flowed readily into Marguerite's greedy mouth. She clung tightly to Derry, enfolding him into a strong embrace as she fed. As the blood hit her systems, Marguerite's heart began to beat, echoing the rhythm of Derry's. She felt her skin grow warm and she knew that the pigment was going back into her skin. The act of feeding was just as pleasurable to Marguerite as it was to her victims, for it meant that for a short time, her body would assimilate that of a living body. She would look like a robust and healthy human girl, glowing with the gift of youth....though only for a little while. Feeding on a living human being every night was required to keep up the illusion.

In what seemed like a short time to her, but likely an eternity to her Donor, Marguerite heard the boy's heart begin to quicken, making up for the blood lost. This was Marguerite's cue to release Derry, before she relieved him of too much blood. It was always hard to stop a feeding before the prey was dead, but Marguerite forced herself to release Derry and gently recline him against the back of the loveseat. She bit into her own fingertip to draw a small bead of her own blood and smeared it against the punctures in Derry's neck so that they would close.

"My blood has regenerative abilities, so it can heal the wounds associated with the feeding, and keep you from bleeding to death," Marguerite explained as she did so, "It will leave a bit of bruising for a couple of days, and if I continue to feed from you for a long period of time, you will eventually develop some faint scars."

Normally, Marguerite would go on to advise her subjects to hide these marks, but in this day and age it would take an experienced wizard to know where the bruising came from. Most would assume it was a mere hickey. Also, she did not want to over-burden her new Donor with too many frivolous details. Each reacted differently to their first experience at being a Donor, and he may not yet be of his right mind. The ability to recover from the induced stupor was different for each human.

As Marguerite bit into Derry's neck, he almost instantly relaxed, his eyes closing as he fell into a dream-like state. It was as though he was bathed in a soothing warmth and tranquility, floating in bliss. She held him close and as time passed, Derry was barely conscious of Marguerite's heart beating stronger and stronger against his own weakening body.

When it was over, Marguerite leaned him gently back against the loveseat and he seemed to stare blankly into nothingness, "waking up" gradually from his trance. When he became conscious of his surroundings, Derry glanced up at Marguerite, who looked more beautiful than ever, seeming to glow with life. She almost looked human. Derry smiled with genuine happiness, exclaiming: "You're so pretty!"

Standing up suddenly with the intention to stretch, the room spun frighteningly before him and he collapsed back on the loveseat. "Whoaaa..guess I gotta sit down here awhile," he said with an unconcerned chuckle. His muscles and bones seemed to ache like as if he had grown old and arthritic, but Derry couldn't care less. "That was awesome! I could do it again right now!" he said, beginning to wriggle again in his seat with renewed energy.

He didn't know it, but Derry was now the one who looked alarmingly pale and sickly. His expression contrasted sharply with his appearance, as he gradually regained his habitual hyper and childlike disposition. "Are you my girlfriend now?" Derry suddenly asked candidly, his eyes twinkling with his naivete and innocence.

((Omg, you made me laugh so hard when Derry asked if I was his girlfriend now. Reminded me of the first time I kissed a boy. He asked the same thing. XD ))

Marguerite frowned at Derry's appearance, berating herself harshly inside her head. She had taken too much blood. The poor boy was so pale. Marguerite began to make secret plans to steal some blood replenishing potion from the Hogwarts Nurse. She highly doubted the nurse would give it to her freely.

"Stay still, love," she advised quietly, gently restraining Derry so that he didn't move too much, "It seems I took a little too much out of you. I miscalculated, and I am sorry for that."

At Derry's child-like question, Marguerite felt the corners of her mouth lift despite herself.

"We vampires are very wary of forming strong attachments with mortals," she replied gently, attempting not to hurt his feelings, "If we fall in love, we are doomed to either watch our loved-one die; or worse, turn them into a creature like ourselves. Once turned, a mortal is never the same as he once was."

Marguerite put her arms around Derry and cradled him comfortingly, her head resting on top of his as she stroked his hair with one hand.

"I will say that I am fond of you, and I hope you can be happy with that," she whispered, "I do not want you to turn down a nice mortal girl because of any unrequited love you may have with me."

Marguerite went silent, still dwelling on the face that she had taken too much blood, making Derry so pale and weak. Later, she would attempt to steal blood replenishing potion from the nurse's office. For tonight; however, she would have to suffice with giving Derry some of her own blood, if he would take it. A little bit would not turn him, but it would help him recuperate faster...she'd have to be careful, though...too much and he could gain some supernatural powers of his own.

"Here," Marguerite said as she bit into her wrist, "Drink a little bit of my blood, and it will help you recuperate faster. I'll try to obtain some blood replenishing potion just in case this happens again in the future, then you won't have to do this."

Marguerite held her wrist out in front of Derry, curious as to whether he would accept. Humans could be weird about the drinking of blood. She remembered that she had trouble with it after she had first been turned.

Marguerite handled Derry's question so skilfully, she not only spared his feelings, he interpreted her long answer as - more or less - a "yes". "Okay, you're fond! That's brilliant!!" he said, smiling radiantly as she gently stroke his hair. Derry didn't have the energy to jump up and down, but he would have. He closed his eyes to better savor the moment, wrapping his arm gently around her waist. He had a 'girlfriend' - sorta - and she was stroking. his. hair!! This was, hands down, the best day of his life.

"Whoa! Whoa! You want me to drink your blood?!" Derry asked, looking slightly shocked. He then started giggling. "Kinky! Okay, I'll give it a try." He held Marguerite's wrist with both hands and then slowly brought it up to his mouth. "Okay..here..we..go.." Hesitating at first, he closed one eye and stuck out his tongue. It flicked at her wound and, deciding it didn't taste that bad, Derry pressed his lips against her wrist and began drinking.

The moment Marguerite's blood entered his mouth, Derry was flooded with a rush of energy and warmth. The effects of her blood was so pleasant, so soothing, that any initial reluctance had completly vanished. In fact...Derry was rather enjoying this. His heart, which had slowed down significantly before, began beating at a more regular, healthier speed. His cheeks regained their color and Derry even felt a sublime tingling from head to toe.

It seemed like the longer he drank, the better he felt. And Derry had never felt THIS good in his entire life!

Marguerite watched Derry closely until she saw the color return to his cheeks. She allowed him to carry on for a few more moments before she gently loosed his grip from her wrist and drew it away from his mouth. He seemed to have recovered quite well.

"So, what did you think of this whole experience?" Marguerite asked, smiling slightly.

((Don't forget about our thread in the forbidden forest. ))

Derry let go of Marguerite's wrist and stared dazedly at her, his lips, chin, and nose stained with blood. With an orgasmic grin lighting his face, he said: "Awesome! Best day ever!" He had all his energy back and was again squirming around on the loveseat. "So! Now what? What do you want to do now? When will I see you again? Shall we kiss? Do you want to go flying with me?" he asked. He spurted out another half a dozen suggestions of things they could do together, Derry's excitement reaching its peak.

"Oh! Maybe we could go to the Astronomy Tower and gaze at the stars! That's romantic, right? Girls like that stuff I think," he said. "Or we could sneak out of the castle, go for a walk or something.." Derry could not shut up. He was bouncing around like a kid high on sugar and there was no way he was going to get a moment's sleep for a while.

Marguerite took a silk handkerchief from her pocket and began to wipe the blood away from his lips, chin, and nose. She was beginning to know what it felt like to be a mother...though generally a child did not hold romantic feelings for his mother.

"Kissing the way you children do in this century, is something that only a Courtesan would do in my time," Marguerite said, "We did not have boyfriends or girlfriends. Our marriages were arranged for political gain, so there was very little romance between couples. Marriages were more of a business than the celebrated event it is now today. I'm afraid that I am still caught within my time from when I was alive. Also, I would not suggest flying at night. You cannot see well as I, and I fear you may harm yourself. A walk, however, would be fine. It is not yet curfew, so there is no need to worry about being caught or put into detention."

Derry was a little disappointed that they wouldn't kiss; but he was just happy to have a "sort of" girlfriend, so he wasn't about to complain. He smiled happily when she agreed to go for a walk with him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her off the loveseat. "Great! Brilliant! Let's go," he said excitedly.

Derry hoped he hadn't tugged at her too hard, but it was hard to be tender when he was this overjoyed. "Where should we walk? Do you want to go to the lake? In the Forbidden forest? Or just wander aimlessly on the grounds?" he asked, unable to calm down with all of this excitement.

"Hey, Marguerite, how did you get turned?" Derry wondered suddenly - dropping her arm - awfully curious. He was being really silly: he had a vampire here, in front of him, and he hadn't even asked her important questions like that! This was a once in a lifetime opportunity that he wasn't about to miss! "Were you sad to become a vampire or happy?"