Tairrie’s black-varnished nail tapped her second glass of wine impatiently as she watched Katie arrive. The petite trans-girl hurriedly finger-combed her blonde hair and pulled her skimpy white dress as far down her thigh as it would go before entering the restaurant.

Little brat is late. Her eyes narrowed when a waiter guided her date to her table, distance no longer hiding the flush in her cheeks nor the subtle smudge of her lipstick. Un-fucking-believable!

“Hi!” Katie said brightly, sitting down and taking the offered menu. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Are you?” The waiter hastily retreated with muttered excuses of giving them a moment to decide. “I already stick out here — mostly because Morticia Addams is my style icon, but that bitch over there keeps giving me dirty looks, so I think she’s clocked that I’m trans — and then you waltz in looking like a just-fucked whore.”

Uncertainty flickered in the coral blue eyes meeting hers. “I—” She swallowed and looked down. “Sorry, Tairrie. Old habits die hard.”

Tairrie sipped her wine, letting her stew, but relented. “Well, I suppose it was before our first date, so not technically cheating. One day, you’ll have to tell me how you do it without making your mascara run.”

“Practice.”

A cheeky smile tugged at the blonde’s lips — the first real smile Tairrie had seen from her since she first walked into her favourite bar two months ago.

At first, she’d tried to ignore her. Her Mistress had tasked her with finding a promising sub, not just any slut who left with a different guy each night. Something about her dainty frame and the wide-eyed faux-innocence with which she scanned the room kept drawing Tairrie’s eye, though, and she began to understand that her choices were not random. They were intentionally dangerous. Consciously or not, Katie wanted to be hurt.

Exactly what she and her Mistress needed. Once Tairrie set her mind to seduction, it became a matter of when, rather than if, the younger girl would succumb, and Valentine’s Day proved the perfect excuse to take the next step. Admiring her across the table, so close to being ensnared in her web, she had to try hard not to genuinely fall for her. 

Stick to the plan, she told herself, draining her wine to force her attention back to the present, and then stood up.

“Choose. Anything. We’ll order when I return from the bathroom.”

Katie sat staring at the menu, but soon raised voices came from where Tairrie had gone, and all eyes turned that way. She fidgeted for a moment, looking around, but she couldn’t pretend one of the voices wasn’t her companion, so she stood and picked her way through the tables in her stilettos.

“Read the sign! Ladies. You can’t come in here, sir.” The primly dressed woman with grey-streaked bun that Tairrie had pointed out earlier blocked the way with arms folded.

“I beg your pardon?” Tairrie kept her voice calm.

“You heard me, sir.”

“What’s the problem?” Katie asked, appearing at her side.

“Your boyfriend is using the wrong toilet.”

“Oh?” Katie’s tone was one of sweet curiosity. “Well, pull your knickers down.”

“What?”

“Go on. Prove you’ve got a cunt, if it’s so important.”

“Um, ladies...” The restaurant manager interrupted, looking nervous. “Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Us?” Tairrie asked, furious.

“Ha!” The toilet-blocker beamed in triumph. “At last, some sanity!”

“You as well, madam. This is not the place for this, ah, discussion.”

As the other woman turned her bile on him, Katie tugged at Tairrie’s sleeve.

“Come on. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

~oOo~

Tairrie strode down the street, her full-length coat billowing out behind her, clenching and unclenching her fists while Katie struggled to keep up. Eventually, she grabbed her hand.

“That bitch pissed me off, too, but I’ll break an ankle in these shoes if we don’t slow down.”

“Sorry.” Tairrie slowed, letting out a sigh. “I just wanted to impress you with a romantic dinner, that’s all.”

“Sweet.” Katie smiled. “But romantic isn’t really me right now. I didn’t really think it was you either, what with the all-black goth wardrobe.”

“Why did you agree to come, then? Random men every night getting boring?”

“Men are always boring. And untrustworthy. With you, I feel… I could surrender.”

They walked in silence for a while longer until Katie remarked, “Your hand is freezing.”

“Bad circulation. Curse of my genes. How is yours so warm? You don’t even have a jacket!”

“Genes as well. I was born in Kyiv.”

“Huh.” Tairrie looked around, finally paying attention to her surroundings, and smirked as she turned down a different road.

“The street probably isn’t the best place to make a cute trans-girl like you surrender.” She steered them through an archway, “but this might be.”

Katie looked around and raised her eyebrows.

“A graveyard? Really not trying to shake the goth stereo—” She squealed as Tairrie shoved her onto the dirt of the path. “What was that for?” she asked the figure now standing above her, silhouetted against the half-moon, her breath pale puffs in the cold air.

“You want to surrender, don’t you?”

The blonde cocked her head. “Y-yes?”

A hand shot out and grabbed her hair, making her gasp.

“Show me what you do each night.”

Tairrie unbuttoned her coat and gathered up the front of her skirt. Katie leaned forwards, kissing over her black leather boots until her lips reached cool white thigh-flesh, looking up at the shadow looming over her.

“Good girl,” she murmured, and Katie felt a flutter in her belly. Nuzzling silk knickers, her lips found the bulge of flesh underneath, before she tugged the waistband down to free it from its prison. Tairrie groaned and pulled her into her crotch, smothering her nose in her curls as a hot tongue lapped at her hungrily. Looking down again, she yanked Katie’s head back and grinned at the look of greedy submission on her face.

“You really like cock, don’t you?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “But it’s so much better when not attached to a dick.”

“You only suck like a devoted virgin, or do you want more?”

“More. Make me your whore.”

Katie opened her mouth wide, lips shielding her teeth, and braced as the grip on her hair tightened. Tempted though Tairrie was to thrust viciously the fuckhole before her, she knew the greater thrill came from doing it slowly — the longer the journey down, the longer delay before relief. Her glans pushed through soft lips into the warm cavern to the back of her throat, but she didn’t pause.

This bitch really does know how to do this, she thought when Katie didn’t even flinch until her balls pressed against her chin. Holding her there, she felt the tunnel start to contract involuntarily around her length, and finally, she attempted to escape. With a cruel smile, Tairrie thrust deeper, feeling drool leak out over her balls, and then slowly withdrew just long enough to let her cough and splutter some air into her lungs before pulling her down again. She repeated this torture over and over, getting harder the more she saw the smaller girl struggle to maintain her calm.

Suddenly, she saw movement and yanked her off hurriedly, slapping her hard across the face.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself, you little bitch!” She pulled the girl’s hand from her panties. “For that, I’ll have to punish you,” she growled, dragging her over to a grave. “That what you wanted?”

“Fuck yes,” the girl groaned, not struggling but pushing her arse out.

“Really?” Tairrie ripped her panties open and circled a long thumbnail around her puckered hole. “I didn’t bring lube. Is that a problem?”

“No. I like a bit of pain—”

The screeched final word echoed off the tombstones as Tairrie drove her hardness in with no further preparation than the throat slime that coated it.

“Don’t you dare come, little bitch! Your orgasms are mine now — I decide when or if you have them,” she grunted as she pummelled her.

The younger girl’s erection bumped against the stone, and the weather-worn inscription of “In loving memory…” visible through her veil of hair mocked her as she was used. It took all her willpower not to climax.

Tairrie came with a hiss, filling her hole, and immediately grabbed Katie’s hair again. Dragging her to kneel in the gravel, she used the girl’s gasp of surprise to feed her still-leaking length between her lips.

“You really want more?”

Katie’s eyes answered even before her date released her to sprawl backwards and moan out, “I need it!”

“Then follow me. The night is still young.”

~oOo~

Hours later, in her apartment, Tairrie squeezed out the last drops of a third orgasm before settling back on Katie’s thighs to survey her handiwork. Bound spreadeagled to the bedframe, her fragility had proved an illusion, taking everything without once uttering her safeword. In every way, she had surpassed the domme’s expectations.

Such a shame. I could have so much more fun with this one.

“You’ve been a very good girl, Katie.” She leaned forwards and dragged her nails over the girl’s flat chest, smiling cruelly at her futile attempts to escape when they grazed the welts from earlier. “I think you’ve earned the right to come. Would you like to?”

“Yes, Miss,” came the whimpered reply as her talons reached her nest of pubic hair and began to ascend her rigid length. With expert skill, she circled the tip with enough pressure to hurt but not enough to actually break the skin, edging her closer. Hawk-like, she watched Katie’s face, leaning closer until, at the moment that she reached the edge of the cliff, she enveloped the head in her fist, pushing her over the edge. Simultaneously, she removed both nipple clamps she had been torturing her with, allowing blood to rush back in and, with it, pain, turning the moan of release into a scream of anguished ecstasy.

Tairrie climbed off, wiped her sticky hand on the sheet, and padded across to the window. Drizzle peppered the glass, but as she rearranged the suspenders holding up her thigh-highs, she made out a shape heading for her building.

It’s time.

Taking the dagger from her dress, she approached her captive, then hesitated. In the sickly combination of silvery moonlight and yellow streetlight streaming from behind her, the tears streaking the girl’s face looked black.

“Do you always cry after you come?”

Katie shook her head and smiled weakly. “Only after really good ones.”

Tairrie stepped closer, hands behind her back. “I’m happy your last one was a good one.”

“My last one?”

“Yes. Mistress will be here soon. I’m afraid you won’t enjoy Her games as much as mine.” She dropped her arms, the blade glinting.

“Mistress? I thought you were the mistress.”

“I am. But my Mistress is… powerful. And tonight, thanks to you, She will bring me a step closer to being like Her.”

More tears rolled down Katie’s cheek as the older woman stepped closer.

“When is Elizabeth getting here?”

“She’s coming up the stairs as we spea— Wait, how do you know my Mistress’s name?”

“You told me.”

Tairrie swiped her finger under her eye and examined the tears up close. “No. I never mention my Mistress by name. Ever.” She licked her finger. “Shit, you really should have used your safeword. You’re crying blood!”

Their eyes met, and ice ran down Tairrie’s spine as a primitive part of her brain recognised what the rational part had yet to grasp.

“Don’t worry, Tairrie.” Katie’s voice became more saccharine than sweet. “It’s not my blood.”

The ropes binding her snapped as easily as overcooked spaghetti, and, before she could blink, Tairrie found herself pinned to the wall with feet off the ground, held there by the diminutive blonde’s hand around her throat.

“Your ‘Mistress’ took all of mine a hundred and sixty years ago. But she’s taking apprentices now? Interesting. I approve. Hunting you was far more fun than her subs.”

Tairrie tried to speak, but only a gurgle emerged. When she remembered the dagger, a steely grip intercepted her desperate stab, and the useless weapon embedded itself in the floorboards.

“It’s OK; I’m no switch. I don’t make my prey beg. But I do like this moment when the mortal playing at mistress finds her mask has slipped and been trodden into dust by my dainty little feet. It almost makes me feel alive. But not as much as this.”

Graceful as a ballerina, she span, bringing Tairrie down to her level, and drank the terror in her eyes.

“You were a good fuck.”

Elongated, needle-sharp canines glinted in the moonlight before sinking into her throbbing jugular, an ice-cold hand stifling her screams. She thrashed futilely and then went limp, surrendering as Katie drained her. Her head flopped to the side, and her dimming vision perceived a familiar silhouette in the doorway. Weakly, her hand reached for it, imploring, before giving a final spasm and falling still.

Katie lay the body down carefully and threw her head back, eyes shut as the fiery heat of stolen life coursed through her veins.

“You bitch.”

Opening her eyes, she stretched, cat-like, watching the newcomer step forwards.

“You utter bitch, Ekaterina.” 

She swept her hair back and stared defiantly back at the whispered fury. Wiping a single drop of stray blood from her bottom lip with her forefinger, she licked it clean sensually before finally responding.

“I like being a bitch, Erzsébet. But I’ll never be your bitch. Not ever again. I bet I still make your cunt wet, though, don’t I?”

“She was destined for the Gift and you’ve gone and fucking killed her! Why must you destroy everything I love?”

“Love?” Katie laughed, not a cruel laugh, but tinged with sadness and anger. “You possess. You own. But you don’t love. And neither do I. Not anymore. I spared her an eternal life as your plaything.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“Don’t I? Then destroy me. Go on. You’ve two hundred and fifty more years of immortality than me. It should be easy.”

Spreading her arms, she bared her small, perfect nipples and hanging sex, her skin alabaster in the night. The taller figure stared until her nails dug into her flesh drew blood, but did not move. Katie sighed.

“You won’t even give me that mercy. So, who’s the real bitch here?”

Picking up her torn panties and dress, she pulled them on and stepped into her heels before heading for the door. As she passed her opponent staring with hopeless hazel eyes at the corpse, she stopped.

“O Erzsébet. My teacher. My Maker. My murderer.”

The woman snapped around.

“What?”

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed the older vampire’s cheek with lips warm from her feed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”