A very dark Cerkperk story... all BD, no SM... permission granted to 
archive at Jadfe and Cousin Mary's Tracy Pages. All others please 
inquire. 

The Dance of Dominance
By Lorelei Sieja

LaCroix stared at his youngest child while she slept, his thoughts 
drifting back over the centuries to the training of his other 
children. Janette had been the easiest to subdue, and yet, there was 
a part of her that he would never own. Nicholas refused to submit 
completely... yet LaCroix knew that the boy craved it with every fiber 
of his being. LaCroix felt a hardening in his loins at the memories 
and clamped down. There would be time enough for that later.

Tracy's Spanish lesson had been a minimal success. She could swear 
quite eloquently, yet only one week had passed and already she was 
bored. She smiled perkily, but her tone was often sarcastic. She 
must have forgotten the first rule he'd ever taught her. He was her 
master. It was time to remind her so thoroughly that it was one 
lesson she would never again forget.

"Tracy, arise, my child. We have much work to do," he called.

She stirred from her slumber, stretching sensuously like a cat 
uncurling from a long nap. Her fang tips emerged over her bottom lip, 
but she restrained her hunger. "Good evening, Dad," she said saucily.

For a moment he felt a curl in his lip. She was so daring and while 
he loved her cavalier attitudes, it was wholly inappropriate for 
today's lesson. "Come here," he said.

Tracy jumped at the firm tone and felt a shiver down her spine. Had 
she done something to anger him? Clutching the sheet to her naked 
breasts, she hesitated. "Just let me get dressed and I'll be right 
out," she stammered.

"Here. Now." His face was chiseled in stone, unrelenting.

Slowly Tracy turned down the covers and rose, standing a little 
unsteady. She did not want to be anywhere near him. "What did I do? 
I'm sorry, whatever it is!"

He did not speak again, but snapped his finger and pointed to the spot 
on the floor directly in front of him. The sound was loud in the 
silence of the empty manor. With slow, timid steps, she came nearer. 
She heard her own undead heart pulse once, loudly in her ears. She 
stared at the Roman General and searched for a glimmer of the 
passionate lover she'd had last night. 

"Hands out." 

Tracy looked at her hands, confused. She'd taken nothing. She held 
them out for LaCroix to see, trembling slightly.

LaCroix snapped a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, securing them 
snugly. 

Tracy gasped. "What are you doing!"

"Silence!" he roared. 

"LaCroix, what is it you think I did? I haven't done anything, 
honest!"

"Must I gag you, my Pet?"

Tracy clamped her mouth. She lowered her eyes, unable to look at the 
potent fury in his face. She didn't see the black silk he pulled from 
a pocket, until it was folded over her eyes. She jerked back, but he 
caught her hair in his hand. 

"Hold still," he said. His breath whispered across her ear. She felt 
her fangs itch at his nearness. She was frightened and confused, but 
also getting hungry.

He tightened the silk and tied it securely. Tracy could see nothing. 
She felt a rope as it brushed against her hands, then looped around 
the handcuffs. 

"Come," he said. The rope jerked on her wrists and she stepped 
forward. It was frightening, walking blindfolded and naked. Tracy 
wanted to argue, but he had commanded her to silence. She reached out 
with her vampire senses... he was closed off to her. That was never a 
good sign.

She felt a tear escape and trail down her cheek. "I'm sorry, 
LaCroix," she pleaded again. "Please tell me how I offended you? 
What did I do wrong?"

"You refuse to be silent," he snapped.

She shut her mouth. 

Down the length of the hallway she walked, handcuffed and led about 
like a slave. She felt the chill ocean breeze play across her skin. 
The windows must be open, she thought distractedly. 

Then she felt a shift in the rope; it dropped, and LaCroix's ancient 
heart pulsed from a lower angle. He expected her to walk down the 
stairs blindfolded? She felt anger wash over her and she stood still, 
her feet firmly planted. 

"Come!" LaCroix snapped the rope, jerking her wrists. 

Fearfully, she moved a foot foreword and found the edge of the stair, 
then slid her foot down, feeling the back of the step on her calf... 
one step, two steps. She felt precarious, like standing on a cliff's 
edge and wondered how Nick managed to look so graceful as he 
negotiated stairs even without his guide dog. They descended to the 
first floor, walked down another hallway and down more stairs. The 
temperature was cooler and the air slightly damp. They must be in the 
basement, she thought.

"What was the first lesson I taught you, my child," LaCroix said.

Tracy didn't have to think. "That you are my master," she replied. 
Her first week with him had been turbulent. Her new abilities had 
frightened her and she had openly defied him again and again. When 
she had placed her own life in jeopardy, he had rescued her. Then, he 
spanked her. She still burned with humiliation at the memory, which 
was just as sharp and painful as if it had just happened yesterday. 

He had taught her many things in the ten months since her conversion. 
He had taught her that he loved her. Not just because she was Nick's 
partner, but for herself. He taught her to control her new strengths 
and to whammy rats, to speak Spanish, to fly, and even recently he'd 
been giving her waltzing lessons. She loved the person - no, vampire 
- she was becoming and she owed it all to him.

"I see that you have not forgotten everything, then, my child," he 
said, his deep voice a dangerous purr. 

She waited, listening to the silence, fear mingled with bewilderment. 


"However, you do not act like you understand this basic principle. I 
am sorry, my child, that I must insist we work on that."

"What have I done?" she begged again, her voice small and desperate.

"For the rest of the summer, you shall not speak unless I give you 
permission to speak! You shall address me only as "Master" or "Sir". 
You shall obey me immediately, without question!"

Tracy winced at his sharp words.

"But-"

A sharp whistle was her only warning before a stinging blow landed on 
her bare ass. Tracy cried out.

"Silence!"

Tracy bit her lip. Her wrists were jerked again and pulled over her 
head. The rope wrapped around something, securing her upstretched 
arms. She tugged at them defensively. Ropes were nothing compared to 
vampiric strength.

"Be still, my slave," LaCroix warned. "That's right. You are my 
slave. I see the rebellion in your very stance. You think to get 
away, to flee from me, but where, my pet, would you go? You know that 
no one in the mortal world can protect you. And in the world of the 
vampire, I am your master. It is my right to train you, to subdue 
you, even to destroy you, as I see fit."

Tracy shivered. Very real fear started in the pit of her stomach, yet 
oddly enough, she felt desire begin to form in her bud. LaCroix had 
spanked her once before and then he had given her the best sex she'd 
ever had. The spanking had not been so terrible. Perhaps it was 
worth it, if it turned him on. She tried to still the fear in her 
heart.

"Now. You shall not cry out. You shall not make a single sound, 
until I give you permission to do otherwise. Simply nod your head if 
you understand."

Tracy nodded.

"Good. Very good."

She heard him move a few feet away. He handled something, and then 
she heard a sharp crack. The whip split the air very near her ear but 
it did not touch her. She couldn't stop the sudden gasp of surprise.

"I see that obedience will take some time," LaCroix sighed. "For 
that, you have earned ten more. Now remain silent!"

Ten more, she thought. Than what? He hadn't told her the total 
number. She clenched her teeth firmly. She would not disobey him 
again.

Again he coiled the whip and snapped. A stinging blow smacked her 
right butt cheek. With her teeth clenched, she did not utter a sound. 
She listened intently, for the coiling of the whip, but there was no 
warning, when it struck again, this time across her lower back. Her 
ass still burning, and now her back, her skin felt highly sensitized. 
Every little nerve ending was at attention and all of her was focused 
on the master from hell. A loud snap, this one across the tops of her 
thighs.

Tracy tried to think about this week. How had she so annoyed him? 
She had thought that this summer would be a chance to get to know one 
another better, that she would enjoy having him to herself, away from 
Nick, and the nightclub, and his lover... she felt tears in her eyes 
and wished to hell he was back in Toronto now. 

More slashes found her left butt cheek, her shoulder blades, the backs 
of her knees, her calf muscles, again to her butt. Tears were 
streaming silently down her face now. Had he even begun on the last 
ten yet? Her wrists were starting to feel a little numb. She didn't 
know how much more she could endure.

Again the whip cracked. Her back was on fire. Her ass had to be beet 
red by now. The whip marked her inner thigh, her legs, and again on 
her ass. Tracy felt her knees weaken, felt her weight pull on the 
handcuffs. 

LaCroix drew nearer and removed the silk blindfold. He touched her 
tears and brought them to his lips. She stared, awed, at his golden 
eyes and delicious fangs. She felt moist to her core, and prayed that 
they had moved on to the kiss-and-make-up part.

"I see that you have had enough of the whip," LaCroix said calmly. 
"However, there is that matter of the last ten."

She almost gasped, but held her tongue.

"Very good, slave." He reached up and untied the ropes. She let her 
arms down, feeling pricks of discomfort run through them.

"Go to the foot of the bed," he commanded. "Grip onto the footboard 
and bend over."

Tracy felt numb. She took tiny steps, her skin on fire, as she saw 
the room for the first time.

It had no windows. It was more than a basement... it looked like a 
dungeon. The stone was painted white, the floor was plushly carpeted, 
but there were leather, chains, and instruments of pain and bondage 
everywhere, along with large mirrors, a full entertainment center, and 
an enormous four-poster bed. 

Tracy took the horizontal bar of the footboard in her hands 
hesitantly. Maybe she would pass out and it would end? Feeling too 
much pain to be humiliated, she bent low.

"Now, you will count out each stroke clearly. If I cannot hear you, 
we shall start over," LaCroix said.

She tensed her ass, but it was burning. Then she felt the smack of a 
wooden paddle, driven home with the strength of a vampire. She 
wondered that her bones didn't crack. 

"One!" she screamed, tears of pain and rage flooding down her face.

LaCroix pulled back the paddle and waited, admiring her reddened ass. 
She had such a lovely tush, well shaped and smooth and rather 
innocent. He smelled her arousal, as well, which pleased him. He had 
not been wrong about this one. Although she claimed that she hated 
her domineering, mortal father, what she truly hated was that he was 
all bluster and no bite. He had talked tough, but when it came down 
to making her mind, he hadn't carried through. She had been a 
naughty, rebellious child, pushing his limits and his lack of 
discipline convinced her that he did not truly love her. LaCroix 
would convince her otherwise. She would obey him, she would love him, 
but she would also know that he loved her and would never allow her to 
come to any harm, even from her own foolishness. He would protect 
her, always. 

Renewed in purpose, he swung the polished paddle again, smacking her 
ass sharply. 

"Two!"

"Three!" 

"Four!" She sobbed now, her shoulders shaking with the effort. He 
almost relented, but he had promised her a spanking. She had to know 
that he carried out his promises.

"Five!"

The next swat she didn't speak at first. She sobbed, gasping for 
breath. He paused. "I didn't hear you," he warned. "Shall we begin 
over?"

"No!"

"No, what?"

"No, Master! Six! Holly shit, it's six!" 

He was annoyed with her angry retort. He drew the paddle back further 
and landed the next blow with twice the strength. Her knees buckled 
and she almost fell.

"Seven, Master!" she sobbed, more respectfully.

"Eight!"

"Nine!"

He had never seen such a beautiful shade of red. Her natural 
complexion had been fair, made more so by her conversion. Now, it 
showed off the red so perfectly. He laid a feather-light kiss on her 
ass before delivering the final blow.

"Ten," she gasped, then trying to make her voice more clear, "ten!"

"Very good, slave. You may stand."

Tracy struggled to obey. Her fangs were full, her hunger crying out 
to be satisfied. Feeding would ease away the misery of pain and 
hunger, but the humiliation would never fade. She stood unsteadily, 
unsure of what to do next.

"Come here and kneel," LaCroix said.

She turned around. He was sitting in a large, leather chair, his feet 
flat on the floor and slightly apart. She hadn't noticed before, but 
he was fully dressed, black pants, shoes, and shirt, a silver pin at 
his throat. She moved slowly towards him, every step a lesson in 
agony, her ass burning, her face still wet with blood tears. She 
knelt at his feet. She could not lean back; her ass could not touch 
her heels. She was certain she would faint from the pain.

"We do not feel pain as mortals do," LaCroix said philosophically. "A 
bullet wound is only a mild annoyance, like a bee sting to most 
mortals, and then it is gone. Broken bones heal within an hour of 
feeding. Only a beating takes longer, my pet. It would seem that by 
injuring only the flesh, and not creating an open wound, the vampiric 
nature is confused and slow to respond."

Tracy didn't think a response was required, so she remained mute. 

"It pains me to punish my children, but your discipline must be 
absolute. Disrespect to an elder could be punishable by death. When 
we leave here this summer, respect will be second nature for you, and 
you will never forget your manners."

End, part 1.


Dance for Dominance, 02/02
By Lorelei Sieja


She didn't know how he did it, but his voice sounded so soft and 
loving right now, it was hard to remember that he was the same man who 
had just beaten her within an inch of her unlife. No, vampire. He 
was not a man at all. And she was never in danger of being destroyed 
from a mere spanking. It hurt like hell, but she would not die from 
it. She felt a warmth spread low in her belly, yearning for him to 
comfort her.

"Prove to me what you have learned," LaCroix said firmly. "Suck me."

Tracy stared up at him in surprise. There was no sign of jest, only a 
cold, calculated look of supremacy. With trembling fingers, she found 
his silver belt buckle and loosened it. Next she opened the top 
button at the waistband and tugged down the zipper. His hard dick 
proudly sprang upward, raising his silk boxers in its eagerness. She 
slipped her fingers inside the band and slowly pulled the boxers down, 
freeing him.

LaCroix spread his legs apart a little more, the only move he made to 
assist. She edged closer to him on her knees, tentatively stroking 
his inner thighs. He smelled wonderful. Perhaps, if she brought him 
to heights of desire, he would bury that wonderful dick in her and 
ease her aches away. Eagerly, she took him in her mouth, sheathing 
her teeth to keep from hurting him. 

He sat still, not thrusting his hips into her, but waiting for her to 
do all the work. She lightly licked his beautiful cock tip, tasting 
the drops of bloody semen hungrily. It spread a warmth through her. 
It was too small an offering to even begin to heal her or ease her 
hunger, but it tasted delicious! She took more of him inside her 
mouth, relaxing her throat to accommodate his massive size. Down, 
then up again, she sucked on him, making her mouth do what her cunt 
begged for, imagining that it was her cunt, that her own needs would 
swell and explode, and she would be on the cloud of passion and 
fulfillment. 

Her fingers gently grasped his balls, kneading them lightly as she 
continued to suck. She heard his undead heart take another beat, felt 
a tremor start through him and heard a faint, contented sigh. She 
felt empowered that she had brought him there. Still the cock 
remained hard and firm. She tightened her mouth a little and 
increased the tempo. Her cunt was miserable. She dropped on hand to 
herself to touch it, but LaCroix slapped it away.

"You will not touch yourself, slave. Ever! Not without permission."

Damn, she thought. How much more could she endure? Surely he had to 
be near to exploding, she thought. Then, he grasped her wrist and 
bit, letting her blood fill him and bring him to completion. His 
blood seed pumped into her throat. She gulped hungrily, eager to 
savor every drop.

LaCroix released her wrist after closing the shallow wound. "Lick me 
clean," he commanded.

Tracy complied, lapping up all of the semen before he tucked himself 
back inside his clothing. Her eyes clouded over with disillusionment. 
He was satisfied, but she was still on fire!

"Bring me something to drink, slave," he said.

"Yes, Master." Tracy rose. Every step was torture. Her ass 
throbbed. She felt every inch of her skin intently, but most of all 
was the ache in her cunt. She wanted him there, now! Desperately! 

She went to the small refrigerator and poured him a drink. Her own 
fangs erupted again at the scent of blood. "May I feed, master?" she 
asked.

"No."

Tracy brought him back the glass. LaCroix scowled. "Kneel before 
your master, slave."

Tracy dropped to her knees and held the glass out. He took it then 
and drank, savoring the flavor. Tracy could not still her trembling. 


LaCroix felt himself grow hard again. She was so delectable! But he 
wasn't ready to satisfy her. He was a master at training submissives. 
He knew he had not yet reached her innate defiant nature. He must 
quench her rebelliousness without breaking her spirit, something he 
had not yet succeeded with Nicholas. Still, he knew it was possible. 
Slowly, he sipped the blood wine and considered his options. 

"Fill my bath, slave," he commanded.

Tracy started to rise, but he stopped her with a firm hand on her 
shoulder. She started to ask him what she'd done now, but clenched 
her teeth before she could speak the disrespectful words. "Yes, 
Master," she said.

He released her, smiling paternally.

Tracy rose and looked around the room. In the far corner was an 
entrance to a large bath, with an enormous Jacuzzi. She dropped the 
plug and turned on the taps. This would take a long time to fill. 
Should she wait here?

"Come, slave," he spoke.

She responded mechanically. She didn't have to think, she realized. 
He would think for her. It was wonderfully freeing, in a strange sort 
of way. 

"Undress me."

Tracy moved carefully, mindful that her quivering, vampire fingers 
could shred the delicate fabric so easily. She removed the silver pin 
from his collar and undid the buttons one at a time. At each space of 
exposed skin, she placed a tender kiss. He smelled wonderful, and she 
wanted him so much. 

Next she undid his belt again, but he took it, drawing it from the 
belt loops, and held it lovingly. Her ass tightened instinctively as 
she stared at the leather. He chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. 
"You have nothing to fear from this, my child, as long as you please 
me."

That wasn't very comforting, she thought. Then she returned to 
undressing him and all thoughts of the belt were gone. His dick was 
rock hard again, tall and thick, a proud Roman soldier in its own 
right. She laid a kiss on it. LaCroix shifted the weight from his 
feet so she could remove his pants, socks, and shoes. Then, 
impulsively, she kissed his smooth, white feet.

"Kneel," he told her. "On all fours."

She did as he commanded, eager as she waited expectantly for him. 

LaCroix knelt behind her. That red ass was so tempting! He needed 
it, and it shocked him how much. A drop of semen oozed from him. He 
leaned over her, letting the drop fall on her ass. Then, with his 
dick, he smoothed the semen around her anus. 

Tracy tensed. No one had ever touched her there! She jerked, but his 
hands on her hips held her firm. Then one hand slapped her burning 
ass, not too hard, but the pain was immediate.

"Never deny me anything, slave. I own you, and all that was once 
yours. I own your body, mind, and soul. Submit to your master!"

"Yes, sir," she whispered. 

He could smell her tears again. Good, he thought. Perhaps these 
lessons could be completed in the short span of summer?

LaCroix's dick had flagged slightly. Now he bent to kiss her battered 
ass, to smell her hot juices, to admire the bruises he had inflicted 
upon her. Immediately hard again, he chuckled at his own eagerness. 

He straightened and again dripped bloody semen in her cleft, smoothing 
it around. "Relax, my child. Learn to trust me," he said, his voice 
like hot silver.

Tracy felt his thick dick press at the small, tight opening. She 
tried to relax and to obey. He pushed in an inch and she winced, 
crying out. He held still for a moment, reaching under her belly to 
fondle her breasts. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into 
his palms, feeling the hard, pointed nipples brush against his firm, 
rough skin. In arching her back, she also relaxed her ass and he 
pushed in further. The pain was different. It was tense yet not 
unpleasant. She wriggled her hips in a small circle, sensing his dick 
inside and slightly gripping it. 

LaCroix pinched her breasts until she gasped in pleasure, then he 
rammed into her, slamming his balls against her ass. 

"Ah!" she cried out.

He withdrew most of the way, then slammed in again. She lost her 
balance and started to fall, only his hands on her breasts held her. 

"Support yourself, slave," he commanded.

"Yes! Ah... yes, master!" she gasped.

LaCroix moved his hands back to her hips and dug his fingers in 
firmly, slamming in to her mercilessly. He was so hard! Always, with 
Natalie, he had to be careful not to bruise her or kill her, but with 
Tracy he need not worry. He wanted her blood, but he held back, 
letting the sensations fill him. Out and back, he set up a steady 
rhythm, slowing down the frequency of his thrusts, but not the force. 
Tracy continued to squirm and cry out in unfulfilled desire. He saw 
a trickle of blood escape from her anus and knew that he must have 
injured her, for he had not yet exploded. It would heal over, he 
knew, yet still he felt a moment of shame. He had hurt Nicholas 
terribly the first time he took him, and the boy still feared this 
kind of intimacy. 

Tracy sensed he was slowing down, and she pushed her ass into him, 
grinding against the roughness of his pubic hair and crying out. 
LaCroix smiled as he sensed her desire. She was so on fire for him 
that she didn't even know the pain. He slapped her battered ass 
lightly. "Slow down, my pet," he whispered. "All in good time."

At once she was like putty and he was a master builder. He could do 
anything with her. He rode her longer, closing his eyes in ecstasy. 
Then, wild with need, he pulled her up until her back was pressed to 
his chest, her breasts cupped in his hands, and he buried his fangs in 
her throat. As her blood, filled with her passion, flooded into his 
mouth, he spilled his seed inside her. He held her tight while the 
spasms shook him, rocking him to the core of his experience. A light 
blood sweat broke out on his brow. LaCroix was beyond shock at his 
own response. This one was a jewel. He could never let anything 
happen to her!

Tracy was still unfulfilled and nearly crazy with the need. Her 
starved, battered body absorbed his blood semen with alarming speed, 
but it did not let her find her own release. She shimmied her hips 
against him once, as if to remind him of her presence.

"Patience," he said. Then slowly he pulled out of her. "I believe it 
is time to check on my bath."

She stood on trembling legs, like one just waking from a dream. "Yes, 
master," she whispered. She would do anything for him now. She had 
to please him, so he would satisfy her. And she loved him, so very 
much that it hurt! She felt new tears, blood she could not afford to 
waste, fill her eyes at the new knowledge. Yes! She loved him! And 
she loved him like this: powerful, dominant, demanding. It gave her 
purpose, as she strove to please and satisfy. And it freed her. Her 
brain didn't have to think or worry or wonder. She had only to obey.

The water was high enough. She turned off the taps, then returned to 
LaCroix where he stood beside the bed. She knelt at his feet as he 
had requested of her before. "Your bath awaits, Master," she said. 
She felt incredibly happy as she said it.

"Come, slave. You shall share my bath."

Tracy stood and felt his hands on her shoulders. Now, his hands were 
tender. He placed one arm behind her legs and scooped her into his 
embrace. Effortlessly, he carried her to the tub and lowered her into 
the warm water as though she was something he treasured. Then he 
slipped in behind her.

Tracy leaned back against his firm chest. He hadn't given her any 
more commands, so she just waited, passive and submissive, until he 
needed something more. Her eyes closed. 

The water was very soothing. The soft jets massaged her sore muscles, 
but she couldn't quite get comfortable for the pain of her burning ass.

LaCroix lifted her and turned her around, so she straddled him. 
"Better, my pet?" he asked.

Now, supported more by her thighs, she nodded dreamily.

LaCroix looked so handsome, she thought with a moment of surprise. 
She had thought he was too old for her the first time she noticed him, 
but now that she knew his real age, that seemed so unimportant. The 
fact that he was so incredibly ancient only made her trust in him 
more. He had done it all, lived a thousand lifetimes. Only he could 
protect her and love her, like no one else. She leaned forward until 
her lips were almost touching his.

"May I, Master?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, slave." He smiled indulgently. He knew that deep inside she 
still held a rebellious spirit. This lesson would have to be repeated 
often. He felt hard again at the thought. Still, at the moment, she 
was wonderfully compliant, a true submissive, a perfect bottom for his 
top. He let her kiss him, let her tongue twine with his. He 
permitted it when she sheathed him in her hot pussy and began a slow, 
steady rhythm as she rode him. Her back arched, she ground into him 
like the slut that she was, the hot, virgin slut he had brought 
across, for this was her true nature. Although he had cum twice 
already, he was so hard it hurt. He raised his hips to meet her 
thrusts, mindless of the waves of water they splashed over the edge of 
the tub.

"Please, Master," Tracy asked, awkwardly around her fangs. "May I 
bite you?"

"Yes, my child," he rasped, baring his throat for her assault as he 
rammed his dick inside her again.

Tracy lunged, burying her fangs into his throat. Her pussy spasmed 
immediately, tightening around him, as she shuddered over and over. 
She drank his blood, tasted the heights of his desire, and she came a 
second time, shuddering again. His hands clutched her ass as he 
ground deeper into her. The sudden reminder of pain exploded and she 
came a third time, each wave of ecstasy riding on the one before. 
Finally LaCroix sank his fangs in her tender throat and sucked 
fiercely. The blood circle was completed, and she rose to a higher 
level of desire, riding the torrent of sensation as she tightened her 
pussy and milked him for every drop. She lifted slightly off from him 
and slammed down again, rubbing her swollen cunt along his firm hard 
stomach. She saw through his blood how she had looked as he whipped 
her pale skin. She saw the red welts raised by the leather lash. She 
saw herself, bent over at the foot of the bed as he laid the polished 
wooden paddle soundly across her reddened ass. She saw him kiss her 
ass and slap her again. The memory of that pain was every bit as 
sharp as the actual deed, and in a final, devastating explosion of 
agony and ecstasy, they both came again. 

Tracy collapsed, leaning her head against his shoulder, so wide and 
strong. LaCroix clasped his arms around her and held her secure and 
safe while she slept. Perhaps he would allow her to have nothing to 
feed on except for him for the rest of the summer... The thought of 
training a new fledgling had seemed daunting and unpleasant when he 
first considered it ten months ago, but now he sighed with deep 
satisfaction. She made him feel young again, and incredibly strong. 
Already he was growing hard for her. He would hold back this time. 
She was truly spent. He would let her rest awhile. Besides, he could 
use the time to orchestrate the next scene. This one had been a great 
success. Suddenly, six weeks with her did not seem long enough.


The end.