Heartthrob

The night seemed to drag on indefinitely. After some time and some sobering-up of an empty-headed little ghoulette, the bedbound pair were allowed to trade places, and then, after further exertion on all ends but Judas's, the finality of satiation arrived. The vampire pressed a button on the screen of her phone to finish recording, then gesturing to the now-breathless pair on her mattress to cease their forced, feverish passions. The cruel taskmistress cackled with sinister delight, every note of her mirth hitting Esthrielle's dazed brain like a blow from a hammer.

Judas slowly, deliberately uncrossed her legs and rose up to a full stand. "Ladies? Admirable performance. Esthrielle? I commend your... vigor, we'll say. EJ, sweetie, if you're not passed out? Take a rest, sweetheart... I'm sure you're pretty worn out from being put through your paces like that." Judas snickered as soon as the sentence finished, eyes crinkling at the corners, bare feet making less than a sound as she drifted ethereally towards the bed. Once she was close enough to touch the pair, her spare hand reached forth to run its fingers along EJ's back from tailbone up towards the nape of her neck; she only removed it to offer an inverse action to Est, trailing from her sternum to just above her dignity.

Est wished she had the energy to recoil in disgust at the vampire's touch; she lamented that she did not.

Judas licked her lips slowly, deliberately, pulling them back somewhat to bare her perfect ivories for the women on the bed. From where EJ lay panting and barely-conscious over Est's frame, she couldn't see the display; Esthrielle herself was the only audience for Judas's joy. She hadn't the power to spit at her like she initially desired, but upon further consideration, that was probably just what Judas wanted. This whole night had been an attempt to break Est and EJ's respective wills. She wouldn't give that bitch the satisfaction of it.

Judas leaned down over the pair of them, her soft, silken robe brushing along both women's skin as she did. Her thin lips fell back over her teeth as she gave Esper James a kiss on the nape of the neck, leaving lipstick marks with a distinct indent of her fangs she had pressed in as well. Esthrielle felt nausea roil in her worn-out core as Judas then deigned to bestow a horrid semblance of affection on her as well; their lips pressed together, and when Judas's tongue knocked, Est opened the door for her to enter.

Est's face screwed up at the taste of blood Judas brought with her, her fingers digging into the comforter in an effort to keep herself sane. Secondhand blood, booze, and vampiric influence drizzled soft and sweet and saccharine into Est's mouth, painting her tongue as it painted her brain, her already-hazy vision beginning to swim as Judas explored the Wayward's mouth. She couldn't keep herself from letting her eyes fall shut.

Minutes passed, and then Judas pulled away - her tongue allowed to trail inches behind her mouth, a thin string of crimson-tinted spit linking her back to Est's own lips and teeth before the distance became enough to make it snap. Judas flipped her hair back over her shoulders, a smug expression of utter superiority gazing down at Est with the heat of an oven and the icy chill of winter's kiss. Est rolled her tongue around a few times in her mouth, blinking away at the nearly-blinding effect of Judas's spit.

"Ohhhhh, Est... God, you taste good, don't you? The heat of a mortal feels good to press up against, to be honest with you... EJ? She's lovely. Adorable. Submissive. A perfect little plaything to order around. But she doesn't have the heat of a real person, the taste of proper, hot blood and flesh and unaltered bodily fluids. Every part of her is dead, you know? Whatever, you probably can't even hear me, hahahaha..." Judas trailed off as she laughed, breaking her stare towards Est, drifting now towards the door of the bedroom. She flicked the light.

"Alright, cuties... Rest well, yeah? Sun's almost up. Once day breaks, I'll come snuggle, steal more of your warmth from you... A couple of bitches in my bed to lay on and under like pillows and blanket? I'm a very lucky woman, hahaha!" And with that, she was gone. The door softly clicked as it was shut, and the pair were left alone without a dominatrix to abuse them.

In the darkness and the still, EJ found the wherewithal to prop herself up - arms going to either side of Est's torso, pulling a bedraggled face still sticky from someone else's sweat up from Esthrielle's chest. She felt herself trembling from stimulants still pinging around her system, whole body barely holding itself together, but she still managed an apologetic, remorseful smile. Est recoiled a bit at the exposure of the fangs.

"Hey, Est... Phew, hahaha... Wow, uh... Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I don't even k-know what to say, but like, still... I feel like I should say something in the end, yeah? I'm... sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Sorry that I didn't have the-" She was cut off by a synthetic finger pressing to her lips. Beneath her, Esthrielle finally could drop her stoic facade, and tears began to well in her eyes with the heat and sting of boiling acid. Her lower lip trembled as she fought herself to speak, but after blinking hard and pressing the tears from her eyes to run down her cheeks, she managed.

"EJ, it's... It's not your fault. It's not l-like, like, l-l-like you... Like you called her to find us, you know? And I can't blame you for not being able to stand up to her. I couldn't, either. We were p-powerless, and our only option was to do what she wanted, or..." She had found the power to speak prior, but the natural extent of disobedience to Judas was too much for her. All her life she had been powerless. The Knights made her feel independent, but once again, she was back to square one.

Seeing Est's tears, EJ found herself beginning to cry in kind. They fell about themselves in tears, bodies stained with shared wetness, the warmth of Judas's home and bed feeling more and more oppressive as the moment drew on. EJ laid her head on Est's shoulder to cry, and Est put a hand there to keep her close, the pair needing the embrace and tears with a desperation rivaling addiction. The horror of it all was dwarfed by the melancholic sense of helplessness, and the depression it brought.

It reminded Esthrielle of her years of imprisonment, in more senses than less. The cruelty of her abusers in Italia paled in comparison to Judas's sadism, but the similarities were too much to deny, and this weighed on her even more heavily than the reality of the night's actions. She could feel the old trauma rise up like a flooding well, the tendrils of repressed pains worming their way into her mind, past the blockers both she and her patrons had installed.

In the end, both Esthrielle and EJ wound down to mere whimpers and silent, dry sobs of justified self-pity. EJ's mind was racing as best it could after the exertion, neurons attempting to fire but exhaustion wearing them down. In a way, it was ok that Judas abused her, because in Esper James's mind, she had been Judas's subordinate for so long that she had grown accustomed to the cruelty. Judas owned her, body and soul, and she had long since been indoctrinated into following Judas's orders to the letter.

But now, Judas had gone too far. Judas had hurt someone innocent, or at least as innocent as one could be, in EJ's mind. Esthrielle hadn't done anything wrong, she had been trying to keep EJ safe, trying to ensure that no one caught her or stole her or anything of the sort. It wasn't the first time that Est had protected Esper James, either. She could recall when Est had first met her: the would-be rapist, the splatter of his entrails, the spray of his blood. The scent of burning flesh.

But Est was a good person.

Est didn't deserve to be caught up in Judas's machinations. She didn't deserve to be hurt by the raven-haired ravager, that cruel, hateful woman with the golden fangs. Unconsciously, the mirror of Est's own life was drawn up in EJ's mind, and that only drove the knife deeper. The parallel they shared was not lost on her in the moment, seeing what Judas could truly inflict to those who didn't deserve such affliction by even an inch.

Amidst the sorrow, a ghostly spectre of rage began to make itself known - flitting between the shadows within EJ's psyche, an emotion rarely, if ever, reserved for Judas. The usual complacent resignation to her own misery was absent; slain, even. In its place, fury and indignation lingered in phantasmal form. It was unusual, nauseating in its own right, disorienting even as she laid still upon Est's warm, damp form.

She resolved to consider it further on her own time - instead, Esthrielle needed her right now. They needed one another. They had both suffered injustice, and so only by banding together could solace be found in their hearts, or so Esper James felt. She turned her head to put her lips inches from Est's ear, whispering as tenderly as she could manage, words as soft and cushioned as down pillows.

"Hey, Est... Let's... Let's get in bed and sleep. Before she gets back. I, uh... I don't think anything g-good will come from us... Staying u-up and longer. I'd... I'd really like to, uh..." Trailing off once again, EJ blushed in awkward shame in the darkened room; thankfully, Est knew what she was trying to say, and nodded in the affirmative. They both scrambled to get into bed and slip under the covers, clinging close to one another despite revulsion at their previous kind of closeness. It was mere moments before the silence of slumber swept them both away.

-

In the evening, when they awoke, they were drawn up by the gentle purr of a large, midnight-blue form sitting at the foot of the bed. Esper James was the first to blink sleep from her eyes, her whole body aching horribly as if she had been beaten, her brain barely able to process the audio-visual input being delivered to it in a steady syrup flow. She felt Esthrielle's body against her own, arms around one another's backs, legs intermingled. She was just as warm as Judas had said, and there was a pleasantness to the scent of living flesh that EJ couldn't quite enjoy yet.

In her newly-sobered mind, EJ suddenly was wracked with a terrible sense of guilt and pain. Oh fuck. Purity. They had left her alone in the industrial district with Kell, without saying a thing to her about the situation, not even the briefest of messages to let her know what was going on. She probably thought EJ was mad at her, that she was off fucking around just to spite her. Oh god. That idea drove a knife hilt-deep into the ghoulette's slow-beating heart, shooting stinging pangs of panic into her body from head to toe.

But then, as she began to push herself up - taking note of a distinct lack of Judas in the bed - she became aware of the purring form at the foot of the bed. She froze as she noticed it, sore and weary muscles forcing themselves to remain taut and firm if only so that she could be at attention in case of a threat. She had only seen a beast like this once before, in her recollection - or at least, once in the flesh, and once in her dream.

The cat raised its head. Twin yellow eyes with pupils too long, too thin locked upon EJ's own. The way its muzzle rolled back to show its teeth, it was almost smiling at her. The expression sent EJ into a whirlwind of panic, the entity of her worst waking nightmares nearly instigating a panic attack on the spot. She felt that feral pull to frenzy, to give in to the madness of meat-hunger, but as she thought of biting Est and taking of her what she craved, she couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to. The idea of inflicting further cruelty upon the Wayward stopped her dead in her tracks even as her fangs touched the air from a slowly-opened maw.

The cat's smile seemed to wane somewhat; its purring, however, grew louder. It made no attempt to move, it didn't budge in the slightest, simply observing EJ from a distance and rumbling like a dated handheld system. EJ's breath, which had been caught in her throat, released only to draw in and hold a new gasp as the instinct to give in came again, in more extreme force. Thankfully, as she resisted, it became easier to focus on - devoting herself fully, wholly to it, remaining statuesque in her immobility, found her having less and less difficulty holding back.

The cat now stood, pawing closer. Its eyes, glowing in the darkened room like LEDs, remained locked on EJ's own as if those of a desperate hypnotist who needed to prove his craft to an unbeliever. EJ did not falter - not this time. The last time she had felt this push, this sway, she had to be fed human meat to feel ok again. She had hurt Purity. She had lost all control. This time, however, she was determined - even if it resulted in her own death, or destruction, or what-have-you - to hold out.

That midnight-blue cat was close enough to nuzzle at EJ's chest now, and it did so. It smelled like crematory ashes and feline musk, and was far too large for any normal cat. Beside her, Est rolled in her sleep, groaning softly as if pained; in EJ's mind, once again, the urge to bite something, anything screamed loudly. A banshee wail within the confines of her mental theatre, urging her to commit further atrocities no matter how badly she didn't want to.

The cat pawed at her face, and in that moment, she gave in. The urge to bite, to chew, was too strong. Too overwhelming. Too... opportune, in her mind. As it pawed at her face, bopping her nose, then going to play at her cheek... EJ's already opened mouth struck. She gave in to the stimulant rush of feral degeneration, fangs and maw rushing forth to flense the cat's leg with alabaster knives, cleaving meat and bone from their kin. The cat recoiled and yowled in pain and shock, setting Est to begin stirring, blearily going to awaken.

EJ wasn't satisfied, but in her own way, she was of lucid mind - giving in willingly after fighting it had given her at least that, at least some sense of control. She had suffered so much recently at the hands of Tsang, of Judas, of this stupid fucking cat, that now every emotion telling her to kill and eat was directed towards the abnormal feline. Plus, the cat's leg in her mouth that she quickly stripped of meat and crunched down, tasted good. The blood was good.

She felt her muscles ripple with newfound strength, flexing and writhing of their own volition, a subdermal crackling of lightning as she surged forth. The cat tried to stumble back on its three remaining paws, but unused to missing an entire leg, faltered and flopped to the floor. Its yowls of distressed were quickly silenced at EJ was upon it, meat taken swiftly and greedily, blood guzzled and gulped with the fury of a vortex. She could feel herself getting bloodbound, getting far too roaring-drunk off of this animal's nectar, but its effect was even more intense than the pig's blood they sold in stores.

She was a messy eater when table manners didn't seem to matter. Fur and flesh and blood and bone disappeared down her gullet in record speeds, the cat's corpse left less than distinguishable as to what it had once been, if not for the feline head at the top. Crimson droplets painted EJ's bare chest and clawed fingers and throat and face, just about every inch of her front-facing side now scarlet with delight. She couldn't deny that this release, the euphoria of it all, had aroused her as well, and she guiltily looked towards a slowly-waking Esthrielle before admonishing herself for even having such thoughts. It disgusted her that intrusive ideas like that had come so easily.

As the feral frenzy began to wind down, her craving for flesh sated, she looked back towards the cat. Something began to nag at her as the extreme of her high mulled down to a pleasant shimmer. The frenzy of the second-living was only supposed to diminish when they consumed sapient, human flesh. When they ate of their own still-living kin. When they consumed the meat and drank the blood of mankind. Murderers all, like a distant race of sinners condemned to evil at the slightest slip in willpower.

So why had this bizarre creature sated her? She hadn't the time to consider it further as she heard Esthrielle prop herself up and scream, the visual cacophony of seeing Esper James, covered in blood, hunched over the mangled corpse of a housecat the size of a German shepherd was simply too much for the Wayward. She rushed to stand beside the bed, hastily throwing aside the covers as she activated her ocular implants to adapt to the darkness.

"EJ! What the fuck?! What are you doing - what the fuck happened? Are you eating a fucking cat right now?! Where did that fucking cat even come from anyways, much less like, you fucking eating it! Jesus Christ in Heaven, what the Hell?" Est was frantic, and while she initially went to rush to EJ, she thought better of it upon really realizing what seemed to be happening. Instead, a silence hung as she awaited an answer to her inquiries, apprehensive and visibly anxious of the potential danger in the situation.

EJ wasn't sure she had any answers for her, either.