0 comments/ 15985 views/ 0 favorites The Circle By: goldsssnake "No, no!! Never!! I won't be your girl! You know, I like fancy clothing and expensive presents, and be taken to nice places. And you can't give me any of that. It's out of the question. Forget it. I'm dating someone else. It's Peter, Hmm... I like him. He's handsome... and he has money!! He's got a thing coming!! Me!!" Loretta wasn't a humble girl, no. Pity that poor Harold had fallen in love with her. She was very pretty, granted. He knew that she wasn't a nice girl either, always so rude to him, and always so petulant and vain. And to tell him that she was dating another man was a cruel blow. He should have forgotten about her. But he didn't. He was obsessed with the wrong girl, as it happens to many a man... That night... Harold was wearing a funny robe, all black, along with a black hat that resembled a cone. Funny hat, too. What Loretta didn't know was that Harold had started to get involved in black magic, since he discovered a very old book on the matter at a second hand bookstore. The book was so old that its pages were dark yellow, and funny little bugs were always crawling in it. He was so hurt by rejection that he wanted to have the girl badly, even against her will... "Ha!! You'll see... you've humiliated me... but you'll see who Harold Webster is!!" He read the instructions carefully one more time ( they were written in ancient English ), and then he proceeded with the ritual. He drew a white circle with a piece of chalk, big enough to contain him inside comfortably. The measurements had to be exact, there had to be a precise relation between them and Harold's body proportions. He then proceeded to read the brief spell: "Come to me, Baal Moloch, Murdecha dida Naito... Come to me and grant me my wish... Odkra burutkei Satcka!! Release the forces now, Brunei filo da Kcthulu... Come to me, I command you!!" A long moment of silence... Harold knew that he shouldn't repeat the spell, that was dangerous, so he started to feel nervous. After a while, Harold suddenly felt all of his body hair raising up. Then, he saw me. What he saw was a very handsome and tall man, but that's unimportant, since I can adopt any appearance I want. I have even disguised myself as an angel more than once!! For that same reason, my real age is not important either, but I like to appear as a man in his mid- 40's. That makes me more interesting among women *chuckles*. I must have caused a good impression in Harold, wearing this elegant black suit, since he was speechless, and even trembling... "You're so obsessed that it didn't cross your mind the thought that I might actually come to you? You command me?... And who are you? Oh, yes, Harold Webster. And who is Harold Webster? " See? I tried to break the ice, as I am a well- educated gentleman, but still poor Harold was mute. "Well, you said that Loretta is going to find out who Harold Webster is... Therefore my question..." He gulped hard, and finally talked. "I can control you!! So don't make mock of me. You can't enter inside the circle!!" "Right. No, I can't. Actually not. But I don't mind " "You don't? " "No. What is it that you want from me? I think I know. But that girl is not a good choice for you. You're only stupid, but she's evil" ... I was going to add: 'she'll be mine, instead of yours, and I won't even have to try hard with her', but I refrained myself. I like to give surprises. "I don't care. I want her!! And you must grant me my wish... or else I won't let you go!! I can even trap you inside a bottle..." "Ouch!! That would hurt! And it would be boring. Cool down, Harold. No need to be aggressive. Alright. As you wish..." "You'll do it? Fine. Now, go bring her. And make her obey my every desire forever..." "That's what you want? That she be compelled to obey even against her will all the time, and with her fully knowing it? I can do that for you. It would be a nice vengeance... " "Yes!!! That's what I want. Exactly " "Very well, Harold " "And don't try to escape. You can't. It's in the book " "For heaven's sake, Harold!! I don't have to be reminded of that..." "Come in, darling, I'm telling you, Harold has given up his hopes on you. I explained to him that we're in love, and he took it well. And he even bought you this exquisite present!!" What Harold saw then was that handsome and rich neighbor, Peter, taking pretty Loretta by the hand and guiding her into the house. "Is that true, Harold sweetie? Oh I knew you were a good man, I knew it!!" I changed my appearance to the real one. I have to say that that hurts my vanity bad, because people usually dislike it a lot, and even get scared by it. But that's the point... "What? Peter!! I don't understand... what..." She lost consciousness, naturally. I took her in my arms just before she did, of course. No need to let pretty faces be hurt by gravity... and hard floors. "Here she is, Harold. Take her. I already hypnotized her. She'll obey your every command " His eyes glittered with desire. "Alright. That I'll do... Now go away!! And don't ever come back, I command you!!" At that moment, I knew I had one minute only, to perform the trick. That's how the guy up there set the rules, and I hate to say it, but it is not a good idea to make him angry. "Oh, but first, I'll have my little share of her charms..." "What? No!! She's mine!! What do you mean?" I looked at him for a moment. "I mean this..." I disposed of Loretta's clothes, and got to caress her body languidly. She regained consciousness, and responded to my advances, oblivious to Harold's presence. "No!! She's mine!! Don't touch her!!" I then made her lie on the floor, and proceeded to penetrate her. I can unleash a woman's instincts, in full, instantly, so her response was very vivid. That was more than Harold could take. "No!! Leave her alone!!" As I expected, he made a fast move to reach me... but then stopped suddenly, just before abandoning the protective circle, and said: "Ah no, you won't get me. It's a trap - he laughed nervously -. Well, then I'll give up Loretta. My own life is more valuable than hers. And how she responded to your caresses... she's impure!! To hell with her!!" "That's exactly where she's heading for, right. Her time is over... and so is yours..." I've got a poor devil's luck, you know? I looked at Harold's shoes. There was a chalk stain in one of them. He had stepped on the drawn circle, inadvertently erasing a small part of it from the floor. I went out of pretty Loretta and into the circle in less than one second. Am I not fast? END The Circle Preliminary note: Just wanted to say, this is a work of fiction! I do not approve of incest which in real life is usually base for abuse, family members are there to be loved not fucked (unless it´s a willing cousin or something of the same age with real mutual consent and at your own risk if you don't use a condom). Another small comment in the same line: my characters are all adults, it's perfectly normal to be eighteen in Senior year (or at least this is how I see it). This said hope you enjoy it! ***** I appear out of nowhere and here I am. Who am I in this story? "The circle". Am I the author? No probably not. Judging by my clothes I must the narrator, unless this is theatre in which case I should be the chorus. But can you judge a book by his cover? A book! This is a book, well maybe not a book but a story nonetheless and in this case I am definitely the narrator. Now let us have a look at the setting. Is it Paris or Vienna? No it doesn't look like Paris or Vienna; it looks like a city, an American city probably. Judging by the cars I would say sometime between the end of the century and the beginning of the next. Is it today? It's hard to tell but it's likely to be today. Setting the set, it´s important! A set, but this is no theatre... It´s a circle you see, we always come back to the point of origin, but the circle never stops so I guess it´s like a Carrousel. You can always catch it on the go, ride it for as long as you want and jump off when you tire and want to retire. It goes round and round just like the planet, and we follow it or we don't. Now what is the subject of this circle? Let's see, it's spring, and here comes the night. Is the subject of this circle love? It does taste like love, but it´s not quite love. It smells a bit weird for love, but the smell is not unpleasant so it must be sex! A circle of sex. But there's still something more, something hidden, something dark, but I'll stop bragging around and I will let you discover what kind of darkness lurks in the shadows... The first character to enter the circle is the Salesgirl; she's a bit sad and lonely. But don't worry for her; she'll soon feel much much better. The Salesgirl Thursday evening, the salesgirl is closing shop. It's been a really slow month and she's afraid her boss will fire her by the end of the following week. The last client has left half an hour ago and she counting the minutes. Her boyfriend and her sister are at this small bar on the other side of town and she's looking forward to have a beer with them. Seven minutes left, she walks to the door thinking that anyway no one will notice if she closes a bit early. She's about to flip the sign and call it a night when she sees a tall woman on the other side of the glass door. The woman is going for the door handle. The key is in the key hole, if she dared, the salesgirl could close the door before the woman could get in. But she doesn't, if the client doesn't get in tonight she will come back tomorrow and tomorrow, Cassie will be working and if the woman complains, Cassie will make sure that their boss knows about it and the Salesgirl will most certainly lose her job next week. She opens the door. "Good evening madam, welcome to Vicky's Prêt à Porter, how can I help you?" The woman is tall, she looks strict, dominant. The salesgirl steps to a side to let her in. The woman walks to the counter. She walks as if she owned the place, actually judging by the way she walks she seems as if he owned the world. The salesgirl feels uncomfortable in her presence. "You can show me the lingerie." The phrase is spat out, unpleasant. The voice is cold, mature, threatening. It feels like the woman is not used to be denied of her requests. The salesgirl takes the woman to the lingerie section and stands by. The woman browses through the bras and the tongs, the lace and the fabric. She takes her time. Sometimes she picks up a piece and sets it a side, she goes back to browsing. After a while and with a large pile of various undergarments she turns to the girl. It's already twenty past; the sales girl should already be on her way. "Take me to changing room." "I'm sorry but we don't usually allow our clients to try on the lingerie." The woman doesn't answer. The salesgirl tries to stand her ground but there something in the woman's look that tells her that this wasn't a request. She turns around. "It's this way, please follow me." The woman enters the changing room and closes the curtain behind her. The salesgirl looks at her watch. "Salesgirl? I need a hand, step in." The salesgirl pushes the curtain and enters the narrow booth. The woman's clothes are perfectly folded on the small bench. She stands tall, towering over the girl, magnificent. Her skin is pearly white; she hasn't seen the sun in a long while. She has tried on a small black tong. The price tag has been ripped off. The price tags have been ripped off all the pieces. They lay on a pathetic pile by the mirror. The woman's bare breasts are firm and pointing under the salesgirl's nose. The dark aureole around her nipples contrasts with her skin. Her look has changed. It's still intense but it's not severe anymore, it's more voracious. For the first time the woman smiles. "I'll take them all and I'll take you too." The salesgirl tries to step back but the woman's hands extend to trap her. Like two strong pliers on her elbows she's drawn back to the woman. The salesgirl would love to scream but no sound crosses her lips. All she can do is submit to the creature hidden under the appearances of the woman. The woman's tongue runs against the salesgirl cheek, tasting her skin, her sweat, tasting the filth cumulated during the day, tasting the life that will soon be no more. The salesgirl is frozen in terror by the freezing wetness on her cheeks. The monster's mouth lingers on the edge of the salesgirl shoulder delaying as much as possible the inevitable outcome. The fangs finally pierce through the thin layers of skin protecting the jugular vein. The blood explodes all over the woman's breasts, all over the salesgirl's back, deep down the monster's throat. The salesgirl lets a small cry of happiness past her lips. Her intimacy is wet. She's not scared anymore; she's overwhelmed by the pleasure of the darkness. She drifts away. Now we get it, the monster under the bed has come into the light and it has a name. It´s Nosferatu, Vampyr or more casually as it is know today a vampire. The vampire is the perfect creature for the circle, it spreads like a plague, but this plague is full of perks. It´s a pleasurable plague, a plague of dark delights that corrupts the ones it infects. And what is corruption in this case if not the release from the moral boundaries that our mortality imposes to us? Let's go back to the Salesgirl because she has just entered the waltz of the circle. Josie blinks, she's in the changing booth. She feels light, light as the air. A heavy weight has been lifted from her shoulders, a burden she seems to have carried with her all her life. She stands and walks to the counter. A persistent buzzing sound is coming from her bag. It´s her phone. She has six missed calls: two from Krissy, her little sister, two from Tom, her boyfriend, one from mom and one from a number she doesn't know. Krissy and Tom have been waiting for two hours at the bar. The last call was twenty minutes ago. They both sound pretty drunk. Mom just wants to say hi and remind her of Aunt Nicole's birthday next Saturday. Josie should worry about being so late, about not having bought a present yet for aunt Nicole but she doesn't. She doesn't care anymore, she has new priorities. She opens the register and empties it, she opens the safe and empties it too. She counts the money: twenty two hundred dollars. It will make a decent severance package. She grabs one of Cassie's cigarettes and lights it. She doesn't smoke normally but tonight she feels wild. Her look falls on a beautiful black dress. She takes it. It's a long sheath dress. She undresses and throws her stained uniform over the counter. Her old bra and panties follow it. She likes the feeling of the cold breeze of the night caressing her naked body, her pale naked body. She smiles to herself. She's horny as hell and thirsty too. She slips into the dress, throws the still burning cigarette into the waste paper basket and leaves the store. The night is fresh outside but the cold doesn't bother her. A car drives by before stopping at the traffic lights. She tilts her head looking at it. What are those red figures in the front seats? Why does she feel so attracted to them? The light changes back to the green but the car doesn't drive away. Josie approaches it. The couple in it seems pretty busy. The man has both hands grasping the wheel, leaning back on the headrest, eyes closed. The slutty blonde on the passenger's seat is giving him a blowjob. Josie looks at them. There's envy in her mind, she would like to be in the girls place, she would like to put the man's dick between her lips, between her teeth, deep down her throat, to suck on it, to swallow it, to drink it. Suddenly Josie realizes that the man is looking at her. He looks surprised and embarrassed. She grabs the handle and rips the door off the car sending it fly on the other side of the street. The man is not surprised anymore, he is just terrified. She grabs him, seats him on the roof of the car and resumes the girl's interrupted operation. In the distance Josie hears her running away, screaming terrified. She'll catch her later because she needs her, because she wants her. She wants to fuck her and suck her and swallow her and drink her. But for now all her attention is concentrated on what is happening under her lips. After just a few movements, her mouth fills with a strong flow of warm semen. And she sucks it, she swallows it, she drinks it. But it´s all over too soon, so she sinks her teeth in the man's dick and she's rewarded with a new flood of warm liquid, delicious nectar, blood. The man leans on the car roof, completely dedicated to his pleasure, oblivious to the fact that he is dying. Josie wipes the blood off her face. She feels horny and she regrets for a moment not having taken advantage of the man's delicious rod. But regrets aren't her biggest concern anymore so she smells the air looking for the girls scent. She picks something up but it's a bit far away so she decides to get in the car and drive to the bar where her drunken sister and her drunken boyfriend are waiting for her. And there she goes, away in the night, dragging the movement of the circle in her wake. She's happy, without a care in the world. But let's pull back a little and come back to the girl who ran off in the night. When she's not abandoning her boyfriend to the curved clutches of the circle, she's the secretary of an important businesswoman. She prefers the term personal assistant of course but who wouldn't. Night after night we cast away the darkness; we refuse the endless sea of obscurity; creating havens, islands of light and we travel between them in small boats of brightness, never stopping in the shadow, always running away from it. But the secretary will soon learn, thanks to the circle, that darkness, when you embrace it, can be as welcoming as light. The Secretary The night is cold and the secretary is lost. The lingering taste of her man's dick hovering on her lips and the sticky wetness between aren't as pleasant as they were anymore. The secretary was on her way home, she had to get up early in the morning to go to work, like the thousands of other ants that suffer the same fate every day. Her boyfriend, her now dead boyfriend had taken her out to dinner to celebrate their first year together. She was about to dump him, but the restaurant was delicious and he had been so full of attentions... She didn't find the guts to do it tonight and that was why she had rewarded him with that small present on the way home. But now she's panicked. She doesn't know where to run, this is not her neighborhood. The more she runs the creepier her surroundings become, the streetlights are further apart and the light casted by the full moon makes the shadows more threatening. Unbeknownst to her, the real threat does not lie in the shadows but in an ambulance that is rushing in her direction, an ambulance carrying the very monstrosity that she is trying to flee. The circle is catching up with her. Suddenly, in the aforementioned shadows, an innocent household cat is taking his nightly stroll around the dumpsters of the neighborhood. The secretary, still terrified by the gruesome murder she just witnessed, is submerged by an irrational fear that throws her in the path of the howling ambulance. Appearing in the lights of the vehicle, its occupants are only saved by the twenty years of experience of the driver, who dodges the secretary before slamming on the brakes a few yards away. The secretary jumps into the passenger seat. "Are you nuts?" Asks the driver, his heart racing a bit too fast for his chain smoker arteries. "Please, take me away from here, there's something chasing me," she answers. "Tim, this guy here, is not gonna make it if we don't hit the road now," a female voice cuts short the conversation. "Okay," the driver says starting the ambulance's engine. The secretary, relatively appeased by the engine's purr, turns around. Behind her she sees a young paramedic of the female extraction working on a patient. "Wait," she says abruptly," that's my boyfriend!" The paramedic turns to her. "Do you know this man?" "Yes," she answers in a quiet voice. "In that case, come back here because, in his condition your moral support might make a difference." The secretary sits in the back of the ambulance, holding the hand of the man she just abandoned, hoping. But sadly for our friend the secretary, hope is not on tonight's menu. At least not in the recipe she's waiting for... Impenetrable chatter bursts from the radio. "Crap!" Says the driver."There's been a large accident on the third, Saint Mary's ER is overcrowded, we are being diverted to Saint John. Hold on back there! ETA: eleven minutes." "Tim, forget about it he just flat lined," says the paramedic. But the secretary knows better, she can see it in his look. A look so full of life, so full of lust, a look she can't take her eyes off. "No, he's still with us, look at his eyes." "Move aside I'll check his pulse, hurry up, we might still have a chance" But for the man on the stretcher, time is not a vital factor anymore. His eyes are locked into his girl's, who suddenly feels the pressing urge to resume what Josie prevented her from finishing. He now looks at the paramedic. She unties her shirt, tilts her head and bends over offering her neck to the newly born vampire. The avid fangs tear through the paramedic's veins. She moans the pleasure of the bite. She moans the flow of orgasms sent through her nervous system by the aphrodisiac properties of the vampire's saliva. She already knows how it will finish but she doesn't care, all she cares for is the sensation of the fangs ripping through her skin, the circle tearing through her soul. The secretary pulls down the blanket, takes off the bandage covering the bite marks left by Josie and starts sucking on the turgescent organ of her man. She's back in the front seat of his car after a wonderful evening, as if nothing had happen. She doesn't feel the paramedic's slump when her man finally drinks her dry. She sucks further, harder as she feels him about to come, his hands forcing her head deeper. She accepts the cold semen in her mouth, down her throat. She smiles when he stands, reaching for her neck, she smiles offering herself, she smiles as he sucks her blood, she smiles when the driver turns around to check on them and in surprise drives the ambulance against a wall. She smiles as she flies through the compartment, she smiles as her body dislocates against the walls of the ambulance. Could this be the end of the circle? Allow me to reassure you dear reader; this is just a small delay as the power of the circle is much greater than the violence of a car crash. Melinda is awaken by a malicious slurping sound. The smell of gasoline and spilled medical supplies is negligible in comparison with the fragrance coming from the front of the ambulance. Melinda opens her eyes. She's in the middle of an absolute chaos. Everything is upside down, the stretcher is on the ceiling, all the cabinets are gaping, their contents all over the place. The back door of the ambulance is open and her man is nowhere to be seen. Melinda clears a path towards the driver's seat. The paramedic is leaning over the carcass of the driver. She joins her sister in darkness for her first feast. Tim's dead and his heart is no longer pumping blood but the vampires don't care. All they care for is the sweet nectar they taste for the first time. Suddenly a hand grabs Melinda by the waist pulling her away from the precious blood. It's a very large colored man. She tries to get rid of him. "Stop it, this thing is about to blow we have to get you to safety." He then grabs the paramedic and he pulls them both away from the burning carcass of the truck. They hiss and kick but the man is strong. The three of them finally fall on the ground. Behind them, illuminating the night sky the ambulance explodes. "Are you all right?" He asks, "Damn, so much blood, we have to call for help!" No they won't, at least not for now. For now the circle has to move on, move on with two tiny delicious creatures who are about to use and abuse a much larger one, to greet him into the fold, to give him the necessary momentum to throw him into the circle. The street is filling up with people but no one notices the three figures that disappear into the small alley. A dark alley, where Melinda has taken off the man's clothes, where the paramedic's lips are already around the large shaft of their savior, where the Samaritan's fingers are playfully digging into Melinda's drenched snatch, where the two vampires enjoy the honor of their victim's rod... A dark alley from where the muffled cries of pleasure rise into the night saluting the moon. Their first meal's corpse still warm behind them, the two vampires evaluate their possibilities. "My boss," Melinda says, "is hosting a party at her fancy Mansion. Not that her fat business partners could suit our needs, but I'm pretty sure that we could find a couple of trophy wives to wear around our fingers and a couple of boy toys to play with. What do you think?" "Hum, I'm not sure... I was thinking about resuming my shift. I'm sure there will be enough blood on the streets tonight for the both of us and we have a birthday planned at the hospital, we could definitely crash it!" The two vampires smile in anticipation. Back in the darkness of the alley the Good Samaritan is awaking to the thought of his two teenage girls and wife waiting for him at home. Only to think of it, his dick is hard and his fangs are drenched. He smiles in anticipation. The circle turns and turns, the circle turns again. The monsters move on and new victims will join the ranks of the circle... Victims, is it the correct term? A victim suffers the desires of his/her captor, a victim is passive under the cravings of his oppressor. Which is true for the circle until the victim is introduced to the circle at which point our merry go round becomes a developing bath for the victim's most secret desires. It wipes out the inhibitions and reveals the true self of the individual, the unadulterated nature hidden below countless layers of social conditioning. But all those considerations aside, the circle has to go on. And now it's about to blow its wind of sensuality over a small flat in an underprivileged area not so far from the fateful alley we just left. The humble flat is home to a family of four: a man, the father who has already been touched by the grace of the circle, a woman, unemployed, and their two daughters, teenagers, and the circle craves for young flesh... The Circle The unemployed mother All alone in her flat, the unemployed mother is a bit worried. Almost an hour ago, her husband has left the flat to go get milk for tomorrow's breakfast and no sign of him so far. Hoping for the best she finishes the dishes. The girls should come home soon too; they went out after diner to hang around with some friends. If she hasn't heard from him when they get back she will walk to the store to find him. With a wet clothe she wipes the kitchen table, turns of the light and goes to the bathroom. She undresses and takes a shower. Day after day, the person looking back at her in the small mirror of the flat's bathroom looks more and more like a stranger to her. To think that just eight months ago, she had a nice little desk job. Is that a white hair in the middle of her generous dark mane? She just turned forty and she already looks older than her mother at the same age. She looks at her curves. She's always been really proud of her body, not a hint of extra weight, at her age it's almost a miracle. But for the last six months her couple hasn't been intimate once. But she gets it. Her husband is so tired at the moment, so many extra hours he has to work just to allow their little household to reach the end of the month in descent conditions. Losing a job, is like losing purpose, but tomorrow will be the day. Tomorrow she'll get a positive answer to one of the three hundred and thirty two job applications she sent and in a week she'll start working again. She knows it. A key in the door, at last! "Honey, I'm in the bathroom, give me a minute and I'll be with you." She turns on the faucet; she bends and splashes her face. As the cold water sprays her face, she realizes that, like her husband, she is tired too, tired of waiting for answers that never come, tired of the uncertainty of tomorrow, just plain tired. A pair of hands falls on her hips. The face dripping with water she grabs a towel, turning around. She stops for a second; her husband does look tired, sick even. But a flame burns in his eye. A flame she hasn't seen in quite a while. He pins her to the sink, thrusting the hard lump in his pants against her pelvis. "What took you so long?" she asks casually. He doesn't answer. He gets closer, living a gentle kiss on her lips. He is cold. His tongue pushes through. She takes the kiss. A passionate kiss like the ones he used to give her when they started to go out, twenty years ago. He tastes weird and his saliva is cold. She runs her tongue against his teeth. "Ouch," she says pushing him away. A warm liquid starts pouring inside her mouth. "I think I cut myself," she says candidly. He still doesn't answer but comes back with even more eagerness for another kiss. He's now sucking on her saliva. That's a bit weird, she thinks, but not unpleasant. Actually the pain is almost gone. Strange warmth starts filling her. She closes her eyes abandoning herself to the sensation. A shiver runs down her spine, there's something wrong with her husband but she's unable to pinpoint what. Is it his coldness, the grayish tone of his skin, the fire burning in his eyes, the strong smell of sex all over his body, the many disappearing pink twin scars that cover his neck, his wrists? Anyhow she doesn't care. He pulls off the towel she's wearing, letting it fall on the ground. Somewhere, in a remote corner of her mind, a corner that hasn't been clouded yet by the fog of pleasure that is taking her, a part of her wants to protest. Honey I'm tired. The girls should be here any minute. At least close the door. But even that part of her mind is soon silenced by the incommensurable wave of guilty pleasure. He releases her, making her turn facing the mirror. "Where is he?" She wonders, unable to see his reflection behind hers. She can feel his strong and cold hands on her nude back, massaging her sore shoulders, running up the back of her neck into her wet hair. But in the mirror she's all alone. He takes out his dick, stiff against the base of her back, between her butt cheeks. "There he is!" She thinks when his shaft penetrates her too long disregarded intimacy. His mouth finds its way up her back, on her shoulder, along the thin line of her neck. She screams when finally her man tears through her skin, a scream of pleasure, a scream of release, a guilt free scream. And the circle throws a new member into it's never ending race. A poor suffering creature is lifted above the petty mortal worries of the human world into the enlightened heights of simplicity that make the primal beast's mind. Michelle has forgotten about tomorrow, she has forgotten about her problems, about the money, about all the loans, about the job hunting. All that's left is love. Wrapped in a large white bathrobe, Michelle walks around the flat. The lights are off but it doesn't seem to bother her. She finds a pile of rejection letters and laughs. She walks to the kitchen feeling thirsty but the tap water has a weird smell and the coke she opens tastes like dirt. She walks to her bedroom. Her husband is gone. Normally she would worry but not tonight, not tomorrow either and never again, he is a strong man, a loving men, she shouldn't worry. Her daughters' room door is closed. She opens it. The twin beds are undone. The girls aren't home yet. She walks to the one on the left, Barbara's, her oldest. Barbara's who is leaving home soon, Barbara who got them so worried because of her mixing with the wrong kind, Barbara who got her act together and got accepted in a small university in Colorado. Michelle lies down. The sheets smell wonderful, they smell of youth and innocence. They also smell of sex, not shared sex but self inflicted. Michelle feels proud of her daughter, of her becoming a woman, of her discovering her body, of her experiencing love. Michelle starts picturing her daughter, a hand between her dark thighs thinking of some stud from school. A dreamy finger slips inside Michelle. She wants to give her daughter the overflow of love she feels. She moans. A noise coming from the entrance. The alarm clock displays three thirty. A series of giggles break the deafening silence of the flat. The girls are here, Michelle is happy. She will surprise them. She stands and hides in the closet. The two girls enter the room. The giggles continue. Through the tiny opening of the closet door, Michelle observes her daughters stumble around the darkness of the room. A distinct smell fills the room. It's a combination that Michelle recognizes without problem. Her daughters, her delicious teenage daughter are covered with a combined aroma of alcohol and sex, both of them. Michelle licks her lips. A few hours ago she would have gone mad; terrified at the idea of losing her innocent children to the clutches of some sloppy teenager but now she knows what innocence is. Innocence is freedom from morals; it's accepting natural needs and indulging them as often as possible. And in that sense her daughters are more innocent than she ever realized. When Jenna, her youngest, undresses, Michelle's hit by yet another smell. A powerful and tantalizing smell that obscures all the other fragrances in the room. Michelle feels her love growing beyond measures. "Barbara?" says the youngest sister. "Yes, Jenna." says the eldest. "Barbara, I wanted to thank you." "Well you're very welcome; it's the least I can do for my little sister." "I was so afraid," Jenna continues, "at first it was a bit painful but after it was so good. And I think Mike liked all the tricks you showed me. I love you Barbara, you're the best sister ever." "Thank you, I love you to, now hush we don't want mom and dad to wake up. We should have been home hours ago." "I know, good night big sis." "Good night little sis." Michelle can feel her fangs growing, her urges are overwhelming her, she has to feed, she has to quench her thirst. She steps out of the closet. Jenna and Barbara jump in their beds. "Who's there?" Jenna turns on the light. "Mom? What... What were you doing in our closet?" Barbara asks. Jenna realizes that her mother must have heard the whole conversation and starts to cry. Not answering Michelle walks to the bed of her youngest. She seats by her side, just like she used to when she read them a story. She passes her fingers over Jenna curly hair, down her cheek collecting a tear in the process. She turns to Barbara. "Come seat here sweetheart, we have to talk." She says. Hesitant Barbara joins her mother and her sister on the little bed. Michelle sensually licks the salty wetness from her finger. "Now Jenna, don't cry anymore, it tears my heart to see you suffer like this." Jenna hardly holds back a last sob and looks with curiosity at her mother. "It's been a long time since we had a conversation like this, mother and daughters," Michelle starts, "you must have been worried about me in the last months. No, no, don't deny it, I saw it on your faces. But you don't need to anymore, I have great news. Some things have changed tonight and from now on it will all be for the best." "Have you found a job, mom?" Jenna asks. Michelle's hand has now moved on Jenna's thigh. The head of her youngest is resting against her cold chest. "No, well not exactly. You see, your daddy went for milk tonight but he came back changed." Michelle continues. She takes the hand of her oldest. "Mommy, you're so cold." Barbara says. "Yes, I know, don't worry, now what was I saying?"¨ Her hand is now slowly climbing along Jenna's chocolate thigh. "Oh yes, well your daddy came back changed and he gave me a gift. And that gift, I want to share it with you two now." "Mom, what are you doing? Stop it, it feels weird!" Jenna jumps as Michelle's finger slides up her slit collecting the sticky remnants of her daughter's evening adventures. "Yes, but don't you like it?" she says licking her finger. Barbara tries to break free of her mother's grasps but Michelle's cold fingers won't let her go. Jenna is losing herself in her mother's terrible stare. "I...I do, but... isn't it wrong?" "Wrong? Well that's part of dad's gift, you get a much clearer view of what is right and what is wrong." Michelle says licking her long fangs. Seeing her mother's transformation Barbara starts to scream. "Hush now," Michelle says, "You don't want someone to interrupt us, don't you?" Barbara lips seal but all her fear is still visible in her eyes. Michelle turns back to Jenna. She has gently spread her daughter's legs, carefully, one at a time. With the tip of her fingers she starts circling around her clit. Jenna lifts her chin under the pleasure exposing her throat to the hungry fangs of her mother. Michelle turns to Barbara. "Stop fighting me, you ungrateful slut," she spits, "I've carried you around for nine months now it's high time I get some payback from you." "Yes mom," Barbara says submitting, "I'm sorry mom." She kneels, opens the folds of the white bathrobe and starts licking the drenched hole she came out of so many years ago. Michelle gently caresses her head. "Yes, that's it, gently and deep inside, exactly the way your dad does it, exactly how I like it," she says before bending over Jenna's hazel neck. Under Michelle's fangs, Jenna's skin shatters. The red blood pours down her mother's mouth, brimming over her lips, slowly covering her dark chin, neck, spilling over her tits, her belly, down her pubis, all over Barbara's face. Michelle's finger is no longer on the clit of her youngest; it's deep inside her recently desecrated intimacy, rubbing against the drenched walls, bringing Jenna to her first real orgasm of her young adult life. Soon the source of life that her daughter has become starts running dry. Michelle withdraws her fangs, lays her daughter down on the bed, covering her as the last drops of her blood pours on the pillow. "Now sleep, little angel," she says in a quiet yet stuttering voice, "soon you'll wake up and we'll be happy together forever." She grabs Barbara's hair enjoying the daring tongue of her daughter who has now moved on to lick her ass. After a violent orgasm, she finally pulls her out of her crotch. She bends and licks her own juices mixed with her daughter's blood from her other daughter's cheeks. "As for you sweetheart, I will show you what being a woman is..." She turns off the lights and drags Barbara to the other bed. There they lay together and for a long time they make love, taking turns pleasuring each other, exploring new ways to express their mother daughter love. Finally not long before the sun rises over the city, Jenna joins them and mother and daughter bring their last relative into the circle. The never ending circle of life and death goes on night after night for your reading pleasure. As the sun rises over the city, it's time for us to go to sleep, because the only thing that will stop the circle is the day. Although it will only delay it, delay it until the sun goes down again and the circle resumes its course. Until next time dear reader, I wish you all the best and hope that you too will encounter the circle on a dark and stormy night, so you can join us in the round of love and pleasure.