Heartthrob

The pretense of their evening had swiftly soured. From a nocturnal playdate at a familiar locale, somewhere EJ could socialize and receive the comfort of a familiar face or two, to the lair of an ebon-scaled dragon who hungered for blood. Potentially, she hungered for the humiliation of her enemies and property as well, but still. Esthrielle held the far-gone EJ to herself in the back of Judas's limousine, the pair seated a few feet away from a smug, self-assured woman who had long since removed her anime girl top to instead don a long black trenchcoat from the trunk of the limousine.

Judas crossed and uncrossed her legs, sipping at the same sort of saccharine bubbly that she had practically filled EJ to the brim with during their date all those days ago. She could scant refrain from smiling, eyes narrowed as a cat watches its prey, the inky midnight of her locks taking on an almost bluish-black colour from the flashing lights of the dense Vitus nightlife. Her rubies were locked onto Esthrielle and EJ in equal measure, though some of EJ's share of the discerning observation was bestowed specifically upon her near-nudity. Her pants had been unceremoniously tossed into a pile on the far end of the limo's interior; they had been uncomfortable for her, or so Judas insisted.

Silence reigned. The dark, moody jazz that Judas was preferential to was the only notable, consistent sound within the vehicle's rear, and even then, it was quite muted. Est glared daggers back towards Judas's cocksure stare, an intangible struggle for dominance occurring even as the third passenger, the blonde, mumbled numbly and gnawed at one of Est's arms. The Easterner knew she wouldn't get Judas to back down; she couldn't, even. The vampire was in her element, practically stone-sober despite it all, and in control of the situation as a whole. Est was none of those things.

Finally, as they passed into the nicer part of town, Judas deigned fit to speak. "So... Enjoying yourselves, ladies? Having fun? Your bare ass is on my leather upholstery, EJ, and your little dollfriend is leaving her synthetic scent on everything. You two're gonna make it up to me, aren't you?" The words hung in the air like a verbal guillotine, just waiting for EJ to lay her neck beneath then blade. She was quick to acquiesce to Judas's demands.

"H-Huh? Oh, ahhhh... Yeah...! Yes'm, we'll make it up to you soooooo damn good, Jude... We c'n start doin' it right here in the back of the limo, whatev'r you're thinkin'...." EJ was, frankly, too drunk to really know what she was saying. Est was pretty far gone, too, but not blackout bad like Esper James; instead, she was just a few leaps and bounds past tipsy on the scale. She clung protectively to the half-naked girl beside her, keeping EJ's head rested upon the cyborg's synthetic shoulder. She couldn't help but part her lips at the exchange happening before her, suddenly invested enough to chime in with her two cents.

"J-Judas, come the fuck on. Are you serious? We're... We're both pretty fucked, to be honest..." Esthrielle attempted to continue, but was halted in her tracks by the sudden and untimely eruption of a long, loud yawn from her throat. Her voice warbled so very gently as she freed it from herself, and once it was gone, her earlier bouts of adrenaline had faded into distant memories. It was as if she had undergone a full-body cleanse, wiping away the ages of dirt and debris and grime and gumming that her emotions had been subjected to in those past and distant years. She found her eyes a touch droopy as she looked to Judas, who was still smiling at her, at least until Est stopped paying her any mind - in that moment, Judas would curse her beneath her breath.

Judas was quick to reply. "Oh, you'll be even worse once I'm done with you, bitch. I've had enough of the East interfering with my plans, and I'm going to send you back to your worthless masters with your tail tucked so far between your legs, they'll assume you got bottom surgery while you were here." She gave a conspiratorial wink to her subservient saboteur, making a one-sided toast into the air before draining the glass and going to pour more.

Minutes ticked away now, Est feeling no need to actually interject any further or even attempt conversation, Judas more than happy to just watch from a distance, and EJ? She was too drunk on blood and genuine booze to lift a finger, to the point that she couldn't function much at all save for the basics. Even her breathing was ragged and deliberate, not quite far-gone enough to pass out or lose function outright, but subtlety had been thrown out the window and run down long ago.

Then, finally, the limousine slowed as it pulled into Judas's little plot of land, parking momentarily so the trio could make their escape. Or, rather, so that the slave-mistress could gather up her new property and take them within her stronghold. Est supported EJ as they made their way within, Judas's personal chauffeur more than happy to pull out of the driveway and disappear into the night as the women entered the manse. As before, Judas flipped just the right switches, and certain, mood-enhancing lighting sprang into being. The flames in the fireplace were among them.

"Alright, ladies. Up to the master bedroom. EJ is more than familiar with where it is... And I'm sure you could hazard a guess, Est. After all, you were headed up to meet me, weren't you?" Judas's implacable, insidious smile was stuck firmly upon her face, teeth and fangs displayed in classic alabaster in the face of the limited luminance in the foyer. She gestured towards the path to the stairwell, and as if she were an automaton accepting new orders, EJ began to shamble forth with a distinct lack of coordination.

Esthrielle rushed to meet her, letting the ghoulette go first if only so that, should worse come worse, she could catch the blonde and soften any drunken falls. The pair ascended at the carnivore's pace, while Judas slipped away into the depths of the manse for who-knows-what. Est didn't want to dwell on what she may be planning.

Est wished she had a plan. Watching EJ's supple rear take step after step, Est's pheromone-addled brain was too occupied by a renewed desire to bite down as hard as she could upon the ghoulette's soft flesh to attempt formulating a plan. She hated herself for it, hated herself down to her core, to the human heart that worked to pump what little blood remained in her. A ghoul? She wasn't even interested in EJ, or so she felt. She didn't want to fuck the blonde, she didn't even want to kiss her. The platonic snuggling from that night had been as far as she wanted to go with the flesh-eating freak.

And yet. With vampiric influence running hot and hard within her, the Wayward's brain was a fucking mess. She was in denial, she knew, but whether that denial was of Judas's intent or of her own feelings and desires was less clear. She thought back to the club... To the motion of her own hips, the soft push-back she had been given by EJ's supple, pliant body, the way the blonde had screamed in white-hot pleasure at being bitten... Est's face contorted in disgust, more at herself than anything else. She didn’t want to consider whatever else she may have felt.

The New Way was supposed to protect one from the mental warfare of the second-living. It was supposed to guard you, to shield you from their malicious machinations, to steel you against the storm one must weather in the city of the dead. And though she now walked through the valley of death, she feared one evil: her own weakness. Judas had broken every failsafe in her brain and body, setting each one of her limbs to a quasi-standby that Esthrielle couldn't wake them from, and infected her mind with a repulsive lust that was stronger than any drug.

And her end goal, it seemed? Get Est and EJ to fuck, while she watched. Get evidence of Est's failure to stay strong, evidence of Est's failure to save herself. In prisoner situations, where escape was impossible, Waywards within the Knights of St. Lazarus were equipped with an internal failsafe. Or, in common terms, a bomb. Est could activate it with only a thought, could blow an entire floor of this building sky-high, could go out with a bang rather than a whimper. And yet? She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Her thoughts screamed at her like the jailors of Venice. Disparagement. Hatred. Venom. Evil. She laid it all upon herself in the face of her own cowardice: cowardice to help herself, if not EJ. Cowardice to take any action at all to try and strike back against Judas. It was true, she hadn't been truthful with EJ earlier: she still held her hatred for the undead, but it had merely diminished, not been quelled. Esper James was one of the good ones, perhaps even the only good one, from what Est had seen of the hellacious conditions in Vitus. To call any who perpetuated this strife and poverty 'good', or even to spare them the blade of hatred, would be a laughable offense.

Finally, they made it to the top floor. Everything was as Est remembered it, at least what she had seen on the way up - the top floor was new to her, but any idle wonder she may have held for the unexplored environs were quickly washed away once her drunken date stumbled into the master bedroom. Laying eyes up on it, every last scrap of - what she perceived as, at least - Western degeneracy set her stomach ill at ease. The toys alone were enough to inspire disgust, but seeing the apparatuses that Judas used to extract every last drop of joy from her dates caused Esthrielle to bare her teeth in displeasure.

She briefly imagined the blonde walking in before her up in one of those devices: cuffed to the wooden X against the wall, bound upon the sawhorse, locked within the pillory... The stirring in the Easterner's loins only worsened her mood at the prospect of excitement from such depravity. She turned away, that is to say she looked to the floor, and only looked up once EJ's feet disappeared from view and were replaced by a rich crimson bedspread.

The ghoulette had flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, and was already in the middle of shimmying out of her hoodie. The siren song of EJ's nudity set a great flame of hunger alight within Esthrielle's heart and thighs, one that she felt assured only existed because of the sanguine influence which yet lingered within her like a clinging, cloying toxin. In moments EJ was completely nude, her only piece of clothing tossed to the ground like a discarded rag. EJ's emerald eyes, shining with optimism but dulled by drink, set upon Est with a glimmer of excitement.

"Eeeeeest~! Est, you're so cute, oh my godddddd. I can't believe we're gonna, y'know...!" She cut herself off with a spate of mirth, giggles rising up like bubbles from a wand, popping in the air and spraying her amusement upon the land below. Esthrielle remained dry in this regard. The synth-skinned foreigner took a few steps closer, going to peel her own clothing away as she did, proceeding with surprising speed given her own trepidation and unease with the situation. She didn't want to give Judas the enjoyment of watching her strip, at the very least.

Est had yet to even free herself of one layer of fabric before Esper James's body made its own anticipation known, only feeding that foul flame in the Wayward's centre. She hadn't lain with anyone since being freed by Luca all those years ago, hadn't known the touch of another in countless days and weeks, hadn't even considered the possibility. Her sojourn to the UNAC had been for business, not pleasure, and back in Venice, no woman or man would give her the time of day, much less touch her. She had been born impoverished and cast into criminality; she was an outcast even within the Knights.

The idea of the validation of coital compromise caused Est's face to screw up in a new way, features twisted in a new expression she had never made nor felt inclined to. It felt like a frown, but one that was satisfying to make - a scowl of delight, a glare of guilty joy. There was a tingling about her chest and arms and hips and loins, body suddenly awash with a sensation similar to falling and being compressed all at once. It only intensified as her eyes roved over Esper James's exposed body.

A voice from behind her spurred her to whip around, dragging her up and out of the headspace she had been pushed down into, the sudden shift in emotions and trains of thought unpleasant in the utmost. Judas stood leaned against the doorframe, having made a surprising quick-change into a suggestive black nightgown - long and flowy, yet sheer in all the right places to accentuate her feminine form. It infuriated Est that much more that Judas was actually fairly attractive.

"Heyyyyy, loves... Are my playthings already getting to it? You didn't get permission, sweetheart... But I'll forgive you. This time. Get naked, Est; I've always wanted to see what a Wayward looks like beneath her armor, but my boss never lets me play with the captives. Good thing I've got you, then, isn't it?" Judas licked her teeth, running her pointed tongue along her upper row, letting the pinkish-red flesh of it graze upon her fangs sensually. Est managed to hold back a scoff.

"Fuck you. I'm only doing this because you're forcing me to." Est spat upon the hardwood near Judas's feet, incensed enough to make the gesture but not enough to actually touch her captor with it. Judas simply smirked, going to take a few steps closer, drawing up to Esthrielle enough to gently press their chests together when she loomed over the terrorist. The sanguophage's thumbs hooked into the waistband of Est's pants, beginning to draw them downwards.

"It wouldn't be fun for me if I didn't force you to, bitch. The only reason you're even still alive right now is because Esper James is near and dear to my heart, and so I didn't want to traumatize her... At least, not in that way. I'm sure she's gotten plenty of mental scars from my treatment over the years~" Judas winked at Est, making the latter woman sneer in further disdain - until Judas leaned down that much more, their lips locking, Judas taking her own enjoyment from the Wayward's mouth. Their tongues wrestled briefly, but Judas was less interested in directly pleasuring herself with Est, and more with employing Est as one would an intimate toy.

Once the kiss was broken, so was their proximity. The hands at Est's waistband came away, one coming up to put a palm upon her sternum and push her back and away so that she stumbled onto EJ's lap. Her undergarments were still present, preventing any contact that would be too untoward, but feeling Esper James's lust press between her rear like that sent a shocking jolt of excitement up Est's spine. The kiss, the tongue, the swapping of spit? It had only renewed the effect, refreshed it and reinforced it in a single action.

Esthrielle was suddenly burning up with need. Her body felt hot, her panties were damp, and her heart pounded like a taiko performing a war-march. She suddenly wanted this, needed this, didn't give less of a fuck if Judas was benefiting from orchestrating this perverse performance. The blood thrumming in her ears drowned out the sound of Judas shutting and locking the door, as well as the sounds of the vampiress pulling up a lavish, padded chair more akin to a throne, and drawing up her phone to begin recording.

Esthrielle was completely bared in mere moments, and Judas was given what she wanted, while Est began to give EJ what she felt she needed. There was no love, no affection in the motions; the amorous nature of Purity's ministrations or even Judas's discipline were the height of romance by comparison to Esthrielle's inexperienced, needful attentions. Grace was completely foregone in the face of a primal hunger for touch that only the flesh of another could sate.

EJ, by comparison, was more than happy to be little more than a fixture for Esthrielle to fulfill her desires upon. From where she lay, she was given every bit of pleasure that Esthrielle could squeeze from herself for the blonde's benefit - and, being too drunk and aroused to give any real thought to the situation, she found herself glued to the spot and enjoying every second of it. It was delightful to learn that Wayward bodies felt just as warm, soft, and exciting as those of Vitus's own organic living - never mind the fact that Esthrielle was still mostly organic. Details, details.

From where she sat, Judas received a glut of what she craved: material to torment the pair of women, a record of their actions in the depths of drunken, lustful stupor to hold over their heads as one held a hammer above an unruly nail. Every gyration of their loins was as valuable as gold to the vampiric voyeur - every drawn-out moan, every cry of delight, every motion of the hands or the hips or anything in-between as pure and precious as could be. No earthly analog could be made, for nothing was more satisfying for the sanguine sadist than this display of power: power over her subordinates in the West, and the interlopers of the East. Their union beneath her own sinister sway was so much more gratifying than joining in could ever be.

By the first climax, Esthrielle was already panting with effort, sweat dappling both synthetic and organic flesh. But with a word from Judas, she knew her work was far from done. She wasn't allowed to finish until Judas was satisfied. Unfortunately for her, or perhaps fortunately, given her unnatural thirst, Judas's standards - her expectations - were difficult to reach indeed.