Prompt- The Forfeit

[charisstoma]

This photo is stolen from the book teaser for Amelia Hutchins' "Forever Immortal".
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=2146071418761764&set=gm.2332148860163956&type=3&theater&ifg=1

Title: The Forfeit
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 1578

He backed me up against the wall trapping my arm above my head, I was going to kill my self described friend, Reilly, who’s idea of a forfeit for losing a drunk poker game was me attending what was supposed to be a costume party, in drag. Surprise it wasn’t a costume party. One saving grace was that there was no one that I knew there or had a chance in this life of bumping into in the future.

Thinking it would be safer to retreat upstairs, I intended do 3 things; hide, call my friend to check if I was at the right address, and get out of the high stiletto shoes that were torturing my feet. The thigh high black, yes I’d gone with a classic black theme, stockings would protect me from walking around barefoot in a house where the carpet could do a credible stand in for a very comfortable mattress.

Hiding, check. Shoes off, check, and oh what a relief that was. Phone call... Reilly had texted me asking me ‘if I’d chickened out of paying the forfeit. Where was I?’ Fingers flying over the phone keyboard, I asked where the hell he was, I was at the party. I typed out the address he’d written down for me and got an, ‘Ooops. you’re at the wrong party,’ with many laughter emojis. Should have known to check with him the next morning after the poker game, in fact definitely should have checked the next morning when he was fighting the after effects of getting drunk. Problem was I’d been just as hungover.

Ooo-kay, I was at the wrong party. The forfeit didn’t say which party I had to be at in drag, all I needed was proof I had been at a party in drag. One selfie of me with background of party in progress and I was out of here. Forfeit paid. It almost worked. I was interrupted.

“You’re hiding up here, aren’t you sweetling. Just waiting for some attention, my attention.”
His hand slipped down and then up dragging the short black dress with it. I could feel his hand press against my lacy panty covered cock which gave a startled twitch at the wrong time.

“Ah, I love surprise presents wrapped up in lace, sweetling,” his lips moved against my neck as he spoke. “Let’s see if we can do something with this.”

Two things happened; his hand cupped my cock while his fingers played behind my balls and my cock loved it, thickening against his palm. The skin on my neck felt his pleased smile just before he nipped and pressing his fingers up forcefully in just the right place that had me lifting up onto my toes and my head fall back. There could be no doubt major parts of me were interested now. I might not know exactly how it was done but those ‘major parts’ were willing to learn.

“I really like the dress but it and the panties are in my way. Let’s take this more private, shall we.”

His fingers kept up a rhythm in time with his hand over my cock and with more strength than expected he flipped me around against the wall before lifting me with the hand holding my captive arm now across my belly. My ass crack was pressed against a bulging hardness, his hand and fingers still working me. I might have whimpered and was shushed.

The rest happened fast. I was face down, naked, on a bed with only my thigh highs to cover me and those fingers busy though the hand had shifted so that a thumb tantalized nerve endings with a circular massage over and around my hole. Definitely I was whimpering, lifting up into that massage while trying to help with the rhythm more frontal.

“Soon,” I was told, “I don’t want to break you,” the asshole laughed. “At least not yet. I’ve a purpose for any blood but no here.” Something pressed against the center of my hole, taking the circle of massage towards an inner movement and then that something breached me and he paused.

“A virgin.”

I whimpered, trying to restart things, imitating the previous rubbing movements again.

“I definitely will not be sharing you,” his words paused, “or I think, letting you go.”

Things moved fast after that, or seemed to. I was flipped face up and a mouth engulfed my cock as the number of fingers entering me increased. There might have been some stinging, a hint of pain that staved off my coming and increased the wanting. And then he found that spot inside me and milked me.
That’s the only way to describe it. Fingers milked my seed out of my cock as his mouth, moving up and down, was suckling it up.

I woke to a stinging of nips to my nipples, and a pressure against my hole that increased to just this side of pain as something cold inexorably moved inward. It withdrew and moved forward again to retreat and pause as if to test if my response. He’d stopped perfectly because somehow his cock tapped up and down on that place inside me that he’d milked with his fingers. My cock tried to stand up.

“Yes. Perfect. Just because you’ve been emptied of your seed, doesn’t mean you can’t love what I’m doing. Let’s see if I can bring these pretty titties to love my feeding from them.”
He suckled my nipples periodically, giving them a nipping, then suckling them up into his mouth until they felt swollen and tender but my cock didn’t object at all. I felt my ass clench around whatever was inside it, spamming into clenching and releasing. One last sharper nip and a tap inside and I was gone again.

I woke to sunlight peeking around the edges of heavy draperies. It looked about noon, the light felt sharp as if I was hungover … again. Orange juice was in a large water beaded tumbler on the table beside the bed. Thirst took hold and the glass emptied before I was ready for it to be. A glass pitcher enticed from a side table further away. A growl came from my throat. The asshole. I had to get up out of bed for more orange juice if I wanted it. Mistake for him. Me and orange juice have a thing. I donated blood on a more than regular basis due a condition I had, too much iron absorption and to prevent my organs over stockpiling it I was trying to manage it, through frequent visits to blood banks. It seemed to be working for me, I just needed to keep up my fluid intake and orange juice was the prevalent beverage available.

I drained the pitcher-full and looked around for my clothes, finding them neatly folded inside a formidable looking armoire, less the panties. Took me almost no time to slip the dress over my head, pulling the thigh highs on and finger combing my hair. Grabbed up the purse, checked that my phone was inside and crept out of the room carrying the stilettos.

I had a moment of worry when I saw the plethora of security jewelry on the door, thought about trying the back but if there was going to be anyone up and around it would probably be there and nothing to say it wouldn’t be similarly bedecked with locks and chains. Opted to check out one of the rooms on the ground floor to see whether the windows were alarmed. They weren’t and I’m talented with sneaking out of windows; interesting childhood I’ve had. I escaped and considerately closed the window after myself, made it back with plenty of time to shower, eat, and make it to class on time dressed in my normal attire which was not drag.

“So, you have a good time last night?” Reilly.

“It was interesting and I’m not doing that again so don’t ask.”

Reilly, the jerk-off, laughed. “Interesting, huh. Interesting good or interesting bad?”

“Interesting different and I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Kiss.” Reilly dragged out the ‘I’ in kiss. “Sounds interesting.”

“Yeah, and that’s all you’re getting and I’ve a whole other sense of respect for what the female of the species goes through at parties like that. Enough.” Professor Hampton came out to the lectern and proceeded to introduce the guest speaker to the Paranormal Research Studies class.

‘Shit.’ I slouched down in my seat, glad I’d picked the middle of the auditorium seating. Grabbing up my pen and I scribbled my way through the class note taking and hoping that my face would be lost in the crowd, all the while sneaking peeks at the lecturer. The visiting guest speaker was the man from last night. If he looked different the dark glasses might have something to do with it and the fact that I didn’t get to see his face all that much with what he was doing to me, but the voice; that voice I remembered clearly without a doubt.

He took a deep breath and paused before starting. I could tell he was searching his audience, discretely but definitely searching. He paused looking directly at me, or so it seemed, and then his eyes moved on a small smile on his mouth.

His area of expertise, vampires.

If I thought myself screwed before, I knew I was going to be later.