We went down a few steps to the heavy door of an unassuming building, one of many in the semi-abandoned harbour. I was not paying much attention to the sketchy but boring surroundings, preferring to check Eric's ass – it looked good in these jeans.
"Here we are. Do you remember the safe word, just in case?" he asked me.
I snorted derisively before seeing assuring him I did. If that helped him maintain his silly little fantasy, so be it, I thought. He opened the door and led me in the room. The others were already waiting there. They were his mates from some amateur basketball team or something he played in. I didn't really care that much about his life, but I'd picked up a few things. Not quite as tall as professional players, but compared to my barely over a meter and a half stature, they all looked like giants.
Of course, I could snap them like twigs. I guessed Eric hadn't told them that.
When I told him I would indulge a fantasy for his birthday – the poor wretches have so few of them – I was pretty sure he'd ask for a threesome. Probably with Angelica, I'd seen him gawking. But I had been wrong; what he wanted was to share me with his friends, and what's more, he wanted me to play the part of the submissive, obedient little sex toy or whatever. I found the concept amusing; besides, I hadn't been with four guys at once since 1927. I had accepted without betraying my enthusiasm, pretending I was doing him a big favour.
"Guys, this is Morgan. Morgan, these are the guys; Anton, Scot and Ed," he said quickly. These weren't their real names. I forgot those instantly and just named them in my head after some long dead people they reminded me of. But I didn't just give them names arbitrarily. Within a few seconds, I had made up backgrounds for them. This was after all a kind of theatrical performance, and I'm a sucker for it. I still miss the days of the Grand Guignol.
The first guy, 'Anton', was dark and lean, with a sophisticated look about him; with plans to sample as many women as he can in life, I decided. Scot was a pale, long-haired boytoy; one who had known heartbreak and wallowed in decay till he found true love again. Ed, a muscular, otherwise forgettable white guy, was almost too obvious for me to come up with anything interesting – a regular guy whose wife wasn't adventurous enough. Together with Eric, who was of mixed race and blue-eyed, there was a lot of diversity here. I liked that; being desired by so different people is a form of validation. I like to think I have long since abandoned many earthly, petty concerns, but primal instincts like having my choice of mates are still strong.
I smiled at them, or rather, I grinned hungrily, before remembering I should probably start getting in character. They nodded in response. None of them seemed too awkward with the situation. I wondered if they did it often; share their girlfriends, or maybe just hire prostitutes, in such orgies. I should ask Eric afterwards. Not that I cared if he was fucking other girls or even if these guys gathered together to suck each other's dicks. Actually, that might be a little interesting but if he could keep such secrets from me, maybe I had been getting sloppy.
"Let's go get you your collar," Eric said and led me to the corner of the room. It was a large brick structure, probably a former warehouse, without windows and mostly empty, save for a bed and a few other pieces of furniture. The floor was tiled, clearly more recent than the walls. Lamps were hanging from chains on the tall ceiling. Yep. Clearly, it had been renovated into some kind of sex dungeon.
I would have to be more observant of Eric in the future. He had a secret life, which was a possible risk for my secret life. Who knew what else he might have been doing, or with whom, without my knowledge?
There was a long chain attached to the wall. At its end was a simple metallic collar. I had to wear this, he explained. I sighed - sure, why not. Eric took the collar with some apprehension and approached to put it around my neck.
"I'm sorry for this; it is necessary, or the fantasy is ruined," he said as it locked with a click.
I felt it burning my skin just as he said the words.
Silver! That motherfucker! I hissed at him, and he pleaded with me to keep quiet.
"Please, Lady Morgan! It wouldn't make sense otherwise. It's not really bondage if you can break it anytime you want, is it? If you don't want to do it, just say the safe word. But I'm hoping you can tolerate this." He looked at me with a mix of fear and anticipation.
Could I have been played for a fool? Could this fuckboy have been a hunter playing the long-game all along, getting me to agree to this just so he could capture me? I took a deep breath. It was unlikely. I directed my most piercing gaze at him. I wasn't going to resort to his silly safe word, it wouldn't befit me. But I could still compel him to release me, or could I? The silver would make it difficult, but then again, perhaps he had a point. Maybe I would really enjoy this gathering more if I felt at least a little helpless in their hands. Besides, the collar wasn't pure silver, I realised. If there was dire need, I could probably break free.
Very well, then. Let him have his fun.
"This had better be a really good fuck, boy. I might spare you if it is."
He sighed with relief. Not the best reaction to a clear threat from a terrifying creature. What the hell was wrong with me? How had I allowed a simple mortal, a toy for my cravings, to act like this?
This would have to wait. We walked back to the others. This was a really long chain I was tied to.
"Morgan wants to be fucked senseless, boys. Think we can manage? Don't worry. She may look small and frail, but she is anything but," Eric declared. The guys nodded at the last bit. Clearly, they were wondering if a short, skinny girl like me could take what they surely saw as giant cocks. I suppressed a desire to snort. At least he hadn't told them what I am. He wasn't that stupid.
"So what is this, some kind of punk chick?" asked the more muscular fellow - Ed. "Scot, she looks like your type, no?" To be fair, at this point I could have paid attention and learn their real names, but I wasn't going to ruin their characters with the truth.
"I'm more into goths, though the distinction might escape a normie like you. But I do appreciate all kinds of sluts," answered the pale boytoy.
"Something like that," I said simultaneously, in answer to Ed. With all the piercings, the tattoos and my mohawk, terribly out of fashion though it was, I guess I was punk-passing, even if it was just a temporary facade. I would probably change my look before long. I rarely kept a style for more than a few years and it had almost been a decade already. Maybe I would grow back my hair. And scratch off a couple of tattoos. Probably the cross inked on my left side. The joke was lost on almost everyone.
"You should not speak unless you are directly addressed, slut," said Eric. I looked a bit incredulously at him, ready to snap, but quickly got back into character. This was a play, and I had to act the part. I hadn't even realised Ed's question wasn't addressed to me, but it didn't matter. I had overstepped my character's limits.
I lowered my head. "I am sorry. I am new at this and I need to be trained," I murmured sheepishly.
"Take off your clothes," said Anton. They had formed a circle around me.
I removed my skirt, keeping my knee-high boots. I hadn't put any underwear on; it has no function for my kind. The shirt was harder to remove since the chain got in the way, so one of the guys got a pair of scissors and tore it off.
I could see them almost drooling over me. There was good reason; my skin is smooth, my tits perky and round, my ass divine. I wasn't always like this. Some of it is just the perks of my condition: it may not have made my breast any fuller, but if nothing else, vampirism really improves the skin. The rest was hard work. Even with the strength of ten men, for centuries seduction had been the primary, sometimes the only, weapon at my disposal. Today, it is still the most effective. The difference is I now use it not to survive, but to thrive.
I assumed a shy stance, half-covering myself from their gaze and looking at the floor, only occasionally raising my eyes to steal glances as they took off their clothes and stood fully erect around me. They came closer. All were over 190 cm tall and even with the boots still on, it showed. The size difference does wonders for a lot of men. I don't know if it makes them feel in control or it's just that their dicks look bigger against my frame.