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In pursuit of William

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When we were all leaving his crypt after the interview, I managed to leave last and left a specially modified questionnaire behind, slipping it next to one of the urns. I didn’t dare look back to check if he’d spotted it, fearing his possible thrall and his predatory eyes, but the back of my neck tingled and I just knew he’d find it! What he would do with it was quite another matter, of course. But I couldn’t resist. Finally meeting the subject of my thesis, and then not try to interview him? Not an option.
I sat in my horrible room (the council being too cheap to pay for a good motel for us flunkies), and thought of sneaking back to the crypt. Would I dare? I took off my sensible pumps and started unpinning my hair. Would it be so bad an ending, I wondered? Since my ill-advised affair with Dr. Fliesning had ended, I’d been feeling antsy and unsettled. Was this all life had to offer me? A job at the stuffy council, and a succession of tweedy council lovers, or a staid council marriage (again, tweed, and snotty noses and nappies as well)?
There was a knock on the door. My stomach slammed into my throat and I had to try twice before I’d risen up from the too-soft bed. Could it be him? Oh God. I hadn’t thought this through carefully enough. Could he get into my room without an invitation? What was the lowdown on rented rooms? Surely not?
On my stockinged feet, I went to the door and opened it a crack. I slammed it shut again immediately. It was him. He was standing there, slouched and smiling, dressed in a very sexy black leather duster, cigarette smoke slowly rising around him. My heart pounded, my legs shook, and the thought that he could probably detect this through the flimsy motel door made me even more afraid.
Come on, Lydia, I said to myself. You’ve started this, you’d never forgive yourself if you passed up this opportunity. Your mother and sister can fend for themselves. You owe it to yourself!
On that note, I opened the door again. William the Bloody looked as if he hadn’t moved in the minutes I’d been dithering behind the door.
“Good evening, love,” he said quite normally in that sexy London voice of his. “Can I come in? I thought we’d discuss this?” and he held up the questionnaire sheets.
I had to swallow several times before I could get the words out. “Come in, William,” I said.
He stepped in, not respecting my body space as a gentleman would, but brushing past me far too close, smiling into my eyes as he did that. Oh God. The fearful scenarios in the back of my mind changed from evisceration and exsanguination to very different possibilities. Oh God.
“I go by the moniker of ‘Spike’ these days,” he said.
“Of course,” I stammered. “Spike. I’ll use Spike from now on.”
I could not resist a question. “Railroad spikes? There was a rumor about you and railroad spikes?”
He grinned at me, a dangerous predator’s grin, which made me turn into pudding. He lit another cigarette, unhurriedly, and started pacing up and down the room, like a tiger in a Zoo. Only he was in no way constrained of course.
“I’ll make you a deal," he said. “I answer your questions, and you answer mine. How about that?”
“Alright,” I said, quite cool and collected really, “what kind of information are you after? I can’t give away classified council information, you must understand that.”
He looked at me with those blue, penetrating eyes and pondered on this for a moment. “Just general stuff, “ he said, apparently not wanting to give away his own purpose. “Probably not really secret. Why the bloody council is here, what people they brought, that kind of thing.”
I offered him a simpler deal. “Why don’t you ask a question, I’ll see if I can answer it, and if I can, you answer the questions on the form.”
“Fair enough.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed, and motioned him into the one chair the room boasted. He threw off the duster, and sat down in the wide-legged, sprawled way that kind of man always seems to have. He had very nice muscled arms, and also when he adjusted his jeans my eyes involuntarily went to the crotch of his jeans. Of course, the bastard noticed, and waggled his tongue at me in a very disconcerting manner. I couldn’t help but feel I was starting off at a disadvantage.
He started his question abruptly. “What does the council want here in Sunnydale? Why won’t they just sodding help the Slayer? In their own best bleeding interest, I’d say?”
I have to admit, I waffled on a bit. I didn’t want to tell him I wasn’t quite clear on that myself. But I knew it would have to do with politics and power, the only thing, in my opinion, that the man Travers is interested in. But I might have known I couldn’t put one over on him. Before I could register that he’d moved, he was sitting on his knees in front of me, these big hands of his splayed on my legs! They weren’t warm, as a human man’s would have been, and which probably signified he hadn’t yet fed that night, but they definitely had an effect on me. I froze, and I must have looked like a frightened rabbit, I could feel my mouth hanging slightly open. He slowly slid his hands upwards over my stockings, and I couldn’t move, I simply let the most electrifying sensations I’d ever felt in my life wash over me. I got goose bumps all over my body, and every muscle I had tightened, I could feel my nipples standing up, the hair on my neck…I thought of myself as quite an experienced woman, having had two lovers, after all — Cyril and dr. Fliesning. But I had certainly never felt anything like this.
Spike kept sliding his hands over my legs ever so slowly, creeping under my skirt. “Well,” he rumbled in that voice that was reaching deep into my womb, “you’ll tell me the truth now, miss…?”
“Ch-chalmers, “ I stuttered, shudders racking though my belly. This was going very wrong very fast. Still, I didn’t even try to resist any more. I told him what I knew, which wasn’t much, but seemed to satisfy him. He with drew his hands. I gasped. I’m still ashamed of it, but I whimpered, yes, I actually whimpered, ”Please…” and he put them back with a triumphant, arrogant smile. I wanted to smack it off his face, but here were other things I wanted more. Looking back on it, it’s all so obvious and humiliating, the boy from the wrong side of the tracks seducing the academic spinster, but at that moment it was both frightening and exhilarating. I never knew that fear would turn me on…
With trembling hands I grabbed the questionnaire. “Your age? At siring and since then?”
“Ah ah ah,” he warned with a charming tilt of his head, “that’s two questions….” He rucked up my skirt. The thick tweed bunched unattractively around my waist, which bothered me, rather.
“Twenty eight”, he said. I thought he looked at little older, but didn’t say. By that time, his thumbs were brushing over my knickers, which were sopping wet, which normally would have made me die with embarrassment, but right now, I didn’t care.
“Okay, what’s your first name? I think we’re on first name terms, don’t you?” Right at that moment, he touched my clitoris for the first time and I climaxed at once. That had never happened to me before, and it was some time before I could speak.
“Lydia,” I gasped.
“What a pretty name,” he said, licking his lips, and I really really wanted to lick them too.
“Lydia, why are you on the team?”
“I’m a vampire expert, and I wrote my thesis on you.”
“How did they know I was in Sunnydale?”
I might be hard on my way to a second orgasm, but my brain didn’t stop working. “That’s two questions. My turn!”
He inclined his head politely. He was such an odd mix of punk and gentleman. “Age since siring? Hundred and twenty years, almost exactly.”
I gasped again, this time from triumph. A new fact, which contradicted everything the council purported to know about him! Definitely a monograph. This was at least as good as the orgasm. Victorian origins, younger than we thought. Fascinating.
“Mr. Giles sends in reports, and he wrote you had returned to Sunnydale again.”
He was now peeling off my stockings and knickers, sending thrills and shivers through my legs. He looked up at me, pausing for a moment, and asked his next question.
“Is there an expert for every member of the Slayer’s gang?”
I nodded. “Well? “he prodded. “Name one!”
“Mr. Jhabwala is our witchcraft expert.”
“Uh-huh. That accounts for Red and Glinda.” He must mean Miss Rosenberg, who is indeed redheaded, though not naturally so, and Miss Maclay. Quite human and endearing, having pet names for them. Just how closely was this vampire associated with Miss Summers and her followers? He didn’t know that he gave me valuable information with every word that he spoke, every gesture he made. To a trained and clinical eye, nothing is without value.
He took off my skirt, tearing at the zipper impatiently. There were red marks on my skin from the elastic in my knickers and stockings. I squirmed as he traced an interested finger over them.
“Don’t vampires get elastic marks on their skin?” I asked, intent upon discovering new information on vampire physiology.
He laughed. “Would that count as one of my questions?” he purred and tore at my silk blouse. That got me really angry. I’d saved up for that blouse! Boring it might be, but it was of very good quality and I’d counted on years of service from it. I slapped his face.
There was a glint in his eye. “This is getting interesting, pet…Like it a bit rough, do you?” and twisted my nipple violently, creasing the blouse horribly in the process. I bucked and moaned, completely at the mercy of my body, that seemed quite excited by violence and fear of death. Learn a new fact about yourself very day in the field, I told myself and also, enjoy the ride, girl, it might be your last.
It was getting really hard to keep track of the question game, but since that was the main purpose for both of us, I managed.
“What supernatural abilities do you have?” I asked. He lifted his head from my breast and considered this a moment. He seemed so transparent, I could almost see him weigh his options.
“Thrall, flight, invisibility…”he said, and started to rip of my bra, which seemed ridiculously easy, even for him, as it was quite a sturdy one. I didn’t like to wobble while working.
I took note of his answer, but I didn’t quite believe him. These abilities are rumored, but not at all reliably documented. Was he bragging?
“What expert was hired for Anya?”
I didn’t understand. Miss Jenkins? For her and the other human member of the gang, Mr. Harris, no special experts had been deemed necessary.
He pushed me down on the bed and knelt between my legs. He was still fully dressed, and I was aching to get my hands on him. He wouldn’t let me, though.
“Who was your sire?”
He licked my neck. While that was sending the most delicious feelings to my womb, it made the fear kick back in as well.
“Drusilla,” he said after a pause.
“She’s been your paramour for most of this century, hasn’t she?”
“What lovely words you use, little Lydia…paramour, concubine, mistress, light o’love…” Little indeed. I stand five eight in my stockings, and he hadn’t seemed that much taller.
The sucking on my neck continued. It would surely leave a mark, I thought as I writhed and moaned and had another orgasm. Thank God I’d brought the maroon turtle neck. I was waiting for the moment his fangs would pierce my neck, but it wasn’t happening so far. I’d been dreading it, of course, but rumors also had it, it was the most wonderful thrilling feeling to be sucked by a vampire ( I did know about suck houses) and I was rather curious, I admit. He started sucking my nipples again. I was almost disappointed, and a little puzzled as well, but then I realized he wanted more information from me, and wasn’t ready to kill me yet.
”Tell me about Glory,“ he demanded. My hands scrabbled of their own volition at his tight black T-shirt. I wanted to feel his skin. He pinched me hard. “Tell me!” He was so male and rough and impatient, I really wanted him to have sex with me. I know, this sounds completely irresponsible and insane, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn.
I told him what I knew, again, not a lot.
“Tell me about your feeding habits.”
His fingers pushed in my vagina, quite hard, and somehow he must have know to find my G-spot, which my previous lovers had never managed, and I came again. Three orgasms so far, an absolute record for me. I never came when having intercourse with Cyril or Dr. Fliesning, and they were usually quite reluctant to help me in other ways.
“I’m a veal kind of guy,“ he pronounced, enigmatically at first, but then I got it. “I like to find very young girls, drain them so that they’re weak, but still scream when I rape them. After that I kill them of course.”
Hm. This sounded pretty horrific, of course, but it didn’t sound that convincing. “Do you abduct them by force, or use seduction to lure them?”
He looked a bit puzzled at that. “Both, absolutely,” he said.
My insistent frittering at his T-shirt had been successful, for he removed it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. What a divine figure! Sculpted like Apollo, not an ounce of fat on him. My hands greedily explored his abdominal muscles, which felt incredibly firm and smooth. So different from, well, frankly, flabby and hairy Britishers.
“Did you look like that when you died, or do you work out? And does working out affect vampire muscles?” I was babbling, and he didn’t answer.
“Undo the belt, pet,” he instructed me. I obeyed, incredibly thrilled at the prospect of seeing a vampire penis. The preternatural biology teacher had never been able to explain satisfactorily just how a dead penis could become engorged, and I was about to experience this at first hand!
“In what ways is the council going to help the Slayer?” The pattern of his questions disturbed me. Why did he want to know all this? Did he wish to help the Slayer, or use the knowledge for the other side?”
“We aren’t,”I said. “Saving the world is her job.”
He savagely backhanded me. I screamed in pain and surprise. Through the pain, my brain frantically kept coming up with reason for his behavior. He seemed loyal to her. Drusilla was not in Sunnydale. Could he be after another Slayer kill? When I opened my eyes, he looked a little different, rubbing his temples. I was giving him a headache?
“Tell me about your present girlfriend,” I managed to gasp out through my split lip. I saw his eyes travel to my mouth and he started to lick off the blood. I tried to kiss him, but he avoided that successfully.
“Harmony? “he rumbled at last. “Not much to tell, irritating dimwitted bint. Threw her out, couldn’t take it anymore.” Aha! No Drusilla anymore! More facts for Lydia.
He took off his trousers and thrust his member in my face. Too bad I only got a moment to check out the vampire penis visually, but it certainly was fully engorged, although quite pale in color. I cannot pretend to be an expert on penis colors, so who knew, pale pink might be as normal as red or purple. It was huge, never saw anything like it, and I found it quite difficult to keep from gagging. Again, I reluctantly admit to having no experience in this act whatsoever. He noticed my discomfort, and with an impatient sigh instructed me on what to do, and that helped. I was even quite getting to enjoy it. I did think he was acting very strangely. I had expected far more violence, but except the one slap, he hadn’t hurt me.
“Do you keep records of the Slayer?” he grunted, thrusting in my mouth.  Why did he keep asking after the Slayer? Anyway, I was in no position to answer him. After a moment, he seemed to realize this as well, and slid his penis out of my mouth. I tried to gather more visual information. His pubic hair was dark brown, he was uncircumcised, and his penis glistened. Must have been me, I supposed. Never looked at Dr. Fliesning so closely, in such bright lighting. He turned me over and pushed my face in the cushions. I guessed this was going to be doggy style. I was getting quite an education.
“Mr. Giles keeps a diary, and he sends copies to the council. I’ve never seen them, they’re classified.” He thrust in me with very little ceremony. Not that I needed any, I was still sopping wet and more than ready for him. I never felt anything like it. I think I’ve said that already, but his evening was simply chock-full of new experiences for me. He was so big, that every thrust in my dripping wet vagina set off a new thrill, and I could not speak at all, just moan.
That’s not what he wanted, of course, so he stopped and slid out of me. He slapped my bottom lightly, very close to my vagina, and again, new sensations. Very good ones.
“Tell me what you do know about the Slayer.”
“No,“ I panted. “My turn. How many vampires have you sired.”
“None. Tell me about the Slayer!”
“She’s the one girl in all the world, the Chosen one, to stand alone against the forces of darkness…” I babbled.
He was hurting me a little, but in a good way. Still not biting me though.
“No, you stupid bint,” he grated, “not the drivel I know already, other stuff, personal stuff about this Slayer.”
I had been right. There was something going on with the Slayer. Should I use this opportunity to check the rumors about his killing of the two other Slayers? No, these had been pretty well documented.
“Um,” I said, “like the rumor she was romantically involved with a vampire?”
He slapped me again, hard now. He uttered a strangled cry right after, and for a moment I wondered If he had come, but I couldn’t turn my head around, as he had my neck in an iron grip. Then I got it. The vampire in question was Angelus, who of course had been associated with both Drusilla and William the Bloody for decades. What was he feeling? Jealousy at Angelus’ success with the Slayer?
“Are you trying to emulate Angelus by moving in on the Slayer?” I asked.
He made a peculiar noise. At first, I thought it was anger, but then I realized he was laughing. He turned me over and looked at me with something of respect. I think.
“No flies on you, eh pet? Keep on gathering the information for your treatise or what not? Aren’t you in fear for your life anymore?”
I said nothing, as seemed wisest. He looked at me for a bit.
“I don’t think you know all that much about the Slayer,” he said at last. “Let’s call it a day.”
He started to move off the bed. Without any dignity at all I lunged for his penis and begged him to fuck me (yes, I actually used that word, not like me at all!)
“All right, then, “ he said after a few moments. He pushed up my legs and thrust in again, very hard. Still, with his vampire strength, he must have held back, because he did not hurt me. There followed a few minutes of screaming and delirium for me, as I got the best rogering of my life so far (which isn’t saying that much, I admit). I became too exhausted to scream anymore and finally he shut his eyes, and came with a roar. I must have passed out, for when I woke up it was almost daylight and he was gone.
I was alive and unbitten! I lay still for a few moments savoring all kinds of sensations. Alive, unbitten, only slightly sore after unimaginably amazing sex, brimming with facts and factoids…I got to work in a hurry. I emptied a bottle of paracetamol and took a semen sample as best as I could. I wrote down everything I could think of, his words, his manner, his actions. Too bad I could not draw. I crawled over the floor to find all pieces of my clothing and came upon the questionnaire. He’d filled in quite a bit of it in an ornate old-fashioned handwriting. I was beside myself with joy. A handwriting sample! Answers! The fact alone that he could read and write! I was in academic heaven. The lingering feeling between my legs didn’t hurt either.
I went to the breakfast nook and ate everything in sight. This had been the best night of my life. Academic fame surely was mine. And also, I vowed, no more tweedy men for Lydia. I didn’t quite know where to find them, but surely there must be ways to satisfy my newfound appetites! Men who would not fuck a woman in two minutes flat with the lights out, mumble ‘sorry dear’ and start snoring.
I’d show these council prats who’d been keeping me back, and the conceited field men as well, who thought they were James Bond if they’d sighted a fledgling. I’d survived a close encounter of the unspecified kind with a Master vampire, I’d found out oodles of original material. The only drawback was that I’d have to conceal the manner of discovery. They didn’t need to know about my little epiphany.