The Rapture

Leaning on Arlo’s shoulder, I find peace amidst the chaos. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle sway of the car lull me into a sense of calm. As we arrive at Moonlit Beach and step out onto the familiar sand, the cool night air washes over us, carrying the salty scent of the ocean.

Vivienne surveys our disheveled appearance, her brow furrowed in disapproval. “This will not do,” she declares, her voice firm. “First things first, we must get you some clean clothes,” she says, looking at me pointedly. “Do you even have clothes at Arlo’s apartment?”

Before I can respond, she continues, “Likely not. He never really was one to think of all the things a girl would need.”

I shoot Arlo a bewildered look, a silent “What the hell?” He simply shrugs in response.

We stroll along the moonlit boardwalk, the gentle lapping of waves on one side and the vibrant neon lights of shops and bars on the other. The contrast between the natural beauty and the bustling nightlife creates a unique atmosphere, a blend of serenity and excitement.

Suddenly, Vivienne tugs me into a brightly lit surf shop. “First things first,” she announces, her voice echoing through the empty store, “we need to get you something to wear that isn’t... well, that.” She gestures dismissively at my tattered dress, a reminder of yesterday night’s harrowing events.

Vivienne, with a determined glint in her eyes, pulls me deeper into the store, Arlo following close behind. We end up in the swimwear section, a corner dedicated to swimwear that seems daring even for a seasoned beachgoer.

“Okay, what side are you?” Vivienne inquires, her eyes scanning the racks. Without waiting for a response, she plucks a string bikini top from the display. It’s black, adorned with a captivating pattern of roses and thorns. Cute, yes, but so minuscule that my cheeks flush at the thought of wearing it. To complete the ensemble, she hands me a matching black thong.

“Here, Evie,” she chirps, “try these on while I find some others.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand. “You will look great,” she insists, already moving away to browse the other barely-there outfits.

I look at Arlo, pleading for help with my eyes. He meets my gaze, a flicker of concern crossing his features, but he offers only a helpless shrug. Vivienne’s influence over him is clear.

Defeated, I turn towards the changing rooms, a wave of anxiety washing over me. But before I can take a step, Vivienne’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“No, honey,” she purrs, “try them on here. We all want to see you.”

Panic floods my senses. I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. The store is thankfully empty, and while I’m sure there are cameras, the register is far away at the front.

Arlo attempts to intervene, a flash of defiance in his eyes. But Vivienne silences him with a fierce glare, and I can almost feel the weight of her Sire’s Command bearing down on him. He visibly wilts, his resolve crumbling under her dominance.

Feeling trapped and exposed, I retreat behind the racks, seeking any semblance of privacy. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I fumble with the tiny bikini, Vivienne’s watchful eyes following my every move.

This is not how I imagined my first shopping trip as a vampire.

“Oh my,” Vivienne gasps, her eyes widening with unconcealed pleasure as you timidly step out. “Come here, darling, let me see you.”

You hesitantly inch closer, the bathing suit’s snug fit leaving little to the imagination. A blush creeps up your neck, the feeling of being exposed intensifying with each step. My areolas peeking through the top.

Vivienne’s gaze sweeps over you, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across her lips. “Exquisite,” she breathes, her voice husky with delight. “Turn around, let me see the back.”

With my ass out for display in the black thong showing everything but the slit. You comply, the heat in your cheeks deepening as you feel her eyes trace your every curve. A mix of shame and a strange thrill churns within you, Vivienne’s obvious enjoyment fueling a flicker of confidence.

“Perfect,” she declares, clapping her hands together. “Perfect. Just keep that on, dear, and give me the tags. No need to change, you look stunning.”

The compliment catches you off guard, your embarrassment momentarily forgotten. A shy smile tugs at your lips, pride warring with the lingering awkwardness. You hand her the tags, unable to completely suppress the small surge of satisfaction at the admiration in her eyes.

Vivienne’s gaze lingers on you, a playful glint in her eyes. “You’re going to turn heads, my dear,” she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of something more. “And I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.”

The double entendre hangs in the air, adding another layer of complexity to the already-charged atmosphere.

“Arlo, don’t you agree”, she turns to him his face red in likely both anger and embarrassment.

“Arlo, don’t you agree?” Vivienne’s voice, laced with a teasing lilt, cuts through the tension. She turns towards Arlo, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Arlo’s face, already flushed, deepens to a shade of crimson that betrays his inner turmoil. It’s a delicious mix of embarrassment and perhaps a flicker of reluctant agreement, all simmering beneath a veneer of flustered indignation.

“I do not think that is an appropriate outfit for a lady,” Arlo manages to stammer out, his voice a mix of awkwardness and a valiant attempt at chivalry. His words hang in the air, a stark contrast to the simmering tension and Vivienne’s obvious delight. You can almost feel his discomfort, his attempt to defend your dignity clashing with the uncomfortable situation he finds himself in.

Vivienne grabs his crotch and feels his hardness, “I think something else would tell me otherwise, my precious toy.”

Vivienne’s smile softens as she holds out the black lace garments. “Evie, honey,” she begins, her voice gentle, “I know you may feel a bit uncomfortable in just the threads you have on now. But you look stunning, and I have a feeling that one day, you’ll feel just as confident wearing even less.”

Her eyes sparkle with warmth and encouragement. “I brought you these,” she continues, unfolding the lace swimsuit shorts and the fine black lace shirt. “Try these on as well, if you’d like.”

Her words, though simple, echo in my ears, a comforting reassurance. I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. She understands my hesitations, yet she believes in me, in my ability to embrace my body and my sensuality.

I take the delicate garments from her, my fingers tracing the intricate lace patterns. “Thank you, Vivienne,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try them on.”

With Arlo’s crotch in hand, Vivienne, and a glint in her eyes, turns to Arlo and asks, “Better?”

Arlo, visibly relieved and appreciative, nods and replies, “Yes, thank you.”

Vivienne’s lighthearted teasing breaks the tension, a welcome shift after the harrowing experience. “Alright now that you’re able to walk in public without looking like you came from a zombie set,” she says with a playful wink, gesturing towards the discarded, blood-stained dress on the floor. “Let’s go find you more clothes.”

Her words carry a comforting warmth, a promise of normalcy amidst the chaos. The idea of browsing for new clothes, of reclaiming a sense of self through simple acts like choosing an outfit, feels surprisingly grounding.

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Let’s go.”

“Arlo, here,” Vivienne says, handing him the tags from the clothes we had selected. “The tags go, pay for us please.”

With a grateful smile towards Arlo, I link my arm through Vivienne’s and excitedly lead her out of the store and onto the next. The thrill of shopping, the promise of new beginnings, and the comforting presence of my friends fill me with a sense of hope I haven't felt in days.

A flicker of doubt crosses my mind. Perhaps Vivienne isn’t the manipulative villain Arlo painted her to be. Her kindness, her support, her willingness to help me reclaim a sense of normalcy... it all feels genuine. Maybe Arlo’s warnings were rooted in his fears and prejudices, rather than Vivienne’s true nature.

I push the thought aside for now, focusing on the present moment. There will be time later to unravel the complexities of their relationship, to understand the truth behind their animosity. For now, I’m grateful for Vivienne’s presence, for the lightness she brings to this otherwise heavy situation.

As we walk towards our next destination, I feel a heightened awareness of my exposed skin. The stares of men and women alike follow me, their eyes lingering on my barely covered body. A wave of embarrassment washes over me, heat rising to my cheeks. I tug at the edges of my flimsy top, wishing for a moment that I had chosen something more concealing.

But then, a surge of defiance courses through me. I straighten my back, lifting my chin slightly. I refuse to let their gazes shame me. I am not an object to be ogled, but a woman reclaiming her power, her sensuality. A flicker of pride mixes with the embarrassment, a newfound strength blossoming within me.

I glance at Vivienne, who walks beside me with an air of unwavering confidence. She seems oblivious to the stares, her focus solely on me, on our shared adventure. Her presence is a silent reassurance, a reminder that I am not alone in this journey of self-discovery.

With each step, the embarrassment fades, replaced by a growing sense of empowerment. I am Evie, and I will not be defined by the eyes of others. I will embrace my body, my beauty, and my newfound confidence, no matter what.

We enter our next shop. The air inside The Vintage Vogue is thick with the scent of old perfume and nostalgia. Dresses from decades past line the racks, each one whispering stories of glamour and elegance. Vivienne’s eyes light up as she sifts through the collection.

“Evie, darling, come look at this!” she exclaims, holding up a short sapphire skirt that shimmers under the store lights. “And these fishnet pantyhose! Oh, they’ll look divine on you!”

I blush, a bit hesitant. “I don’t know, Vivienne... that seems a bit daring.”

She gives me a playful nudge. “Nonsense! A little bit of daring is good for the soul. Trust me, you’ll look amazing.”

With a deep breath, I take the skirt and pantyhose from her. As I slip them on, I’m surprised by how confident I feel. The skirt hugs my curves, and the fishnet pantyhose adds a touch of sensuality.

“Vivienne,” I say, stepping out of the dressing room, “what do you think?”

Her face breaks into a wide smile. “Oh, Evie! You’re stunning! Absolutely breathtaking!”

I twirl in front of her, the skirt swishing around my legs showing off my bikini bottoms underneath. “I feel... powerful,” I admit, a shy smile spreading across my face.

Next, Vivienne presents me with a playful, black and red, polka-dotted dress with a cinched waist and a full skirt. It’s fun and flirty, a stark contrast to the darkness of recent events.

“This one’s perfect for dancing!” Vivienne says, encouraging me to sway to an imaginary tune. I giggle, the sound echoing through the quaint store. It feels good to laugh, to embrace the lightness of the moment.

Finally, Vivienne pulls out a stunning black corset with intricate lace detailing. “This will cinch your waist and accentuate your curves,” she says with a wink. “Every woman should have a corset in her wardrobe.”

Hesitantly, I try it on. The corset hugs my body, creating an hourglass silhouette. I feel a surge of confidence and a newfound appreciation for my body.

“Vivienne,” I breathe, looking at her and Arlo. “I... I love it.”

She beams at me. “I knew you would. You look incredible, Evie. Truly.”

Arlo, ever the patient gentleman, trails behind us, his arms laden with bags. He watches our interactions with a hint of amusement in his eyes. I catch his gaze and smile. Maybe Vivienne isn’t so bad after all. As we head to our next stop.

La Petite Coquette exudes an air of sultry sophistication. Delicate lingerie and luxurious sleepwear are displayed like works of art, inviting exploration. Vivienne guides me towards a collection of teddies, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and lace, and Arlo’s cheeks flush a deep crimson. The sight of delicate lingerie and luxurious sleepwear displayed so openly seems to overwhelm him. He avoids making eye contact, his gaze fixed on the floor, his discomfort palpable.

I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. This world of sensuality and feminine expression is unfamiliar, perhaps even intimidating to him. I reach out and gently squeeze his arm, offering a silent reassurance. He glances up at me, a grateful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Despite his embarrassment, I can see a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Perhaps this experience will broaden his horizons, and challenge his preconceived notions. Maybe, just maybe, it will even bring us closer together.

Vivienne selects a deep red teddy with intricate lace detailing and a plunging neckline. It’s daring, seductive, a far cry from my usual comfort zone.

“Trust me, Evie,” Vivienne whispers, a knowing smile on her lips. “This one will make you feel like a siren.”

I hesitate, but then, fueled by a newfound sense of adventure, I slip into the teddy. The fabric clings to my curves, accentuating every inch of my body. I glance at my phone, surprised by the woman staring back at me. She’s confident, alluring, and empowered.

Vivienne lets out a low whistle. “Breathtaking,” she breathes. “Arlo, don’t you think?”

Arlo’s cheeks flush a deep crimson. “Uh, yes,” he stammers, quickly averting his gaze. “Very nice.”

Vivienne, stroking his ever-growing members, nods in her agreement.

I can’t help but laugh. It’s a light, carefree laugh, one that bubbles up from deep within me. For the first time in days, I feel truly alive.

Vivienne looks at me, “Now honey go get changed in the outfit you like the best.”

After careful consideration, I decide on the sapphire blue skirt and fishnet pantyhose from The Vintage Vogue. The combination is both elegant and daring, a perfect reflection of my newfound confidence.

“Evie, that skirt looks incredible on you!” Vivienne exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Why don’t you pair it with that black corset we found? It’ll cinch your waist and give you a stunning silhouette.”

Her suggestion intrigues me. The corset had made me feel powerful and alluring. I nod, eager to see the complete look.

I slip into the corset, feeling its firm embrace around my waist. I pair it with the skirt and pantyhose, then add a simple black top that accentuates my curves without being too revealing.

As I emerge from the dressing room, Vivienne’s eyes widen in approval. “Oh, Evie, you look ravishing!” she exclaims. “That outfit was made for you.”

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I’ve never felt so beautiful, so empowered. “Thank you, Vivienne,” I say, my voice filled with gratitude. “I love it.”

“Now remove the top.” Vivienne smiles at me.

Vivienne’s suggestion catches me off guard. “Remove the top?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. The thought of exposing so much skin sends a shiver down my spine.

“Trust me, Evie,” she says, her voice a seductive purr. “It will look much better. And it will show the world that you are to be feared and admired.”

Her words ignite a spark within me. The idea of commanding attention, of exuding an aura of power and confidence, is intoxicating. I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the hem of my top.

But then, the thrill of the unknown takes over. With a deep breath, I peel off the top, leaving only the corset to adorn my upper body. The cool air kisses my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the corset’s embrace.

I glance at myself using my phone, my image taking my breath away. The corset accentuates my curves, the fishnet pantyhose adds a touch of sensuality, and the sapphire skirt flows around my legs like liquid silk. I look...powerful. I look...dangerous.

A smile curves my lips. Vivienne is right. I am to be feared and admired. And tonight, I will embrace that power.

Stepping out into the warm Veritas night, a gentle ocean breeze caresses my exposed skin, sending a shiver of both excitement and vulnerability down my spine. The eyes of passersby follow me, just as they did before. But this time, their gazes feel different. No longer am I simply an object of desire; there’s a newfound respect, a hint of awe, mixed with their admiration.

I stand a little taller, my chin lifted, my shoulders squared. The corset embraces me like a second skin, a reminder of my strength and resilience. The sapphire skirt sways with each step, a silent declaration of my power. I am no longer a victim, but a survivor. I am a woman reborn, ready to face the world on my own terms.

Vivienne links her arm through mine, her smile radiant. “See?” she whispers, her voice filled with pride. “You’re a force to be reckoned with, Evie.”

I squeeze her hand, a silent thank you for her unwavering support. The night stretches before us, full of possibilities. And for the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of exhilarating freedom. I am ready to embrace the unknown, celebrate my newfound strength, and show the world what I’m truly capable of.

Vivienne’s voice, filled with a playful energy, breaks the silence. “Now, let’s paint this town red!” she declares, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The phrase hangs in the air, a thrilling promise of adventure and excitement. I feel a surge of adrenaline, a sense of anticipation building within me. Tonight, we’re not just celebrating my newfound confidence; we’re celebrating life itself.

I grin, linking my arm tighter with Vivienne’s. “Let’s go,” I reply, my voice echoing her enthusiasm. “I’m ready.”

With Arlo trailing behind us, carrying our bags like a dutiful knight, we set off into the night, ready to embrace the world and what it has to offer. The world is our oyster, and we’re ready to savor every moment.