I hope you'll enjoy chapter two of Rene's tale. You are obviously under no obligation to do so, but please consider donating a little something to Nifty. Even a buck or two will be helpful to them, if everyone does it. Again, no obligation. You do have an obligation to write me though, and tell me if you liked my story. Okay, not true. You don't have to write. You can send cash instead :) Seriously though, I really do love hearing from folks. You can get at rwxxx13@yahoo.com

Chapter Two

Rene Lenier was twelve years old when he died. He'd come to New Orleans with his parents and little brother for vacation on the way to Disney in Orlando when he was eleven. That's when Matheus saw him. Matheus was an old vampire. Very old. Rene wasn't sure how old, but he'd talked about the French Revolution and even older things. Matheus said that Rene was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. That was scant consolation to a kidnapped eleven-year-old boy. In fact, it was pretty awful.

Rene had been snatched off the street after going into a public bathroom to pee. Matheus admitted he'd been watching him for hours, waiting for an opportunity. Rene should have been safely in bed already, but he and his little brother had begged their parents to let them stay up just a bit longer to enjoy the sights of the carnival they were visiting. He'd cried for days when Matheus took him, even more when he found out that Matheus wasn't even a man, the first time he'd taken his blood and Rene had seen his fangs.

For a long time he never knew where he was. Matheus kept him locked inside a luxurious room without any windows. Over the next nine months he'd sometimes bring young men or women home, feeding from them. Sometimes he just took a bit of blood, his glamour sending them off afterwards glassy-eyed and hypnotized. Other times he killed them, carrying their drained corpses out into the night as if they weighed as much as pillows. Matheus explained that the ones he killed were evil, but Rene didn't understand that. Not at first.

Soon after Matheus began to drink from him, Rene found out all about sex. He knew about sex of course, whispered conversations, giggling boyish laughter in the dark, heart-pounding excitement staring at porn on the internet with friends, little penises stiff as nails, sharing nervous smiles. Still, real sex was a mystery, and gay sex something he'd barely imagined. Matheus was an attractive being, even Rene saw that, but the old vampire, who appeared to be in his late twenties, wasn't the sexual partner the boy would have chosen. Still, Rene came to enjoy it. Even the anal sex, which had hurt horribly at first. He even came to enjoy the feeding, discovering a sexual thrill each time the vampire bit him. It was something in the saliva, Matheus eventually explained.

Matheus explained a lot of things. He was a wealth of knowledge and he seemed determined to share it all with his young captive. They spent many nights talking about history, which was Matheus' favorite subject. It was by no means the only one, however. They talked about music, and art, about different cultures and far away places. They spoke of philosophy, and theology. Matheus also spoke at length about sex, about seduction, about courtesans and the art of making love, both to a man and to a woman. Rene wasn't sure when it happened, but he eventually fell in love. Or at least he thought it was love.

Seven months into his captivity, Rene was able to produce his first hesitant spray of fine droplets when he orgasmed. Two months later, the boy got his first pubic hair, a tiny golden filament, barely visible. That was the night that Matheus turned him. He explained that he knew it was wrong, that there were even some sort of vampire laws against it, but the old vampire couldn't bear the thought of his beauty being lost to the ravages of puberty.

Rene didn't quite understand it all. All he knew was fear when Matheus explained what he was doing, that Rene was going to die. He cried and begged, his protests becoming weaker and weaker as Matheus drained him, so much deeper than he ever had before. With his consciousness blinking out, his life like a tiny candle flame, near extinction, Matheus slit his own wrist with a golden razor and pressed the bloody offering to Rene's lips. Weakly at first, barely able to work up the energy to even suckle at the sliced flesh, Rene felt the blood filling his mouth. Strength and energy began to flow through him. His arms lifted, gripping Matheus' forearm, holding it tight as his mouth drew more and more of the invigorating elixir into his mouth.

Afterwards he shook, wracked with cramps and fever. He sat on the toilet with a bucket in his lap, Matheus stroking his back, whispering his love for him. The old vampire explained that he was dying, that his body was expelling all the unneeded fluids and solids that he required as a human, but had no need of as a vampire. Rene remembered little of it, just the pain and misery. Afterwards, Matheus cleaned his body lovingly, then lay him down to sleep.

Undeath was a revelation. It was so much more and so much less than he'd expected. He was disappointed to find that he couldn't turn into a bat, or a mist. He couldn't fly or call wolves to fight for him. On the other hand, the young boy had never known that the world could be so bright, so vibrant, so magical. It was like seeing for the first time. When Matheus took him outside finally, Rene began to cry. Not because of the long denied freedom, but because of the unearthly beauty he saw all around him. It was nighttime of course, but Rene could see everything as if it were full daylight. No, even more than that. The night was alive with swirling motes of color. Every growing thing glowed with an inner light. Trees were full of a golden glow, flowers a riot of neon colors. Even the grass shone with emerald, pulsing light. And the people! People were like fireworks, alive with sound and fury, the blood which flowed through them like rivers of crimson radiance.

Matheus showed Rene how to feed. Clumsily at first, nearly killing the young co-ed Matheus had chosen for him, unable to stop drinking in the glorious ruby river until Matheus thrust him away from her, tiny teeth wet with her blood, his penis achingly hard in his pants, filled with the life of her. After that he was more careful, learning how to care for the humans he fed from, how to close their wounds with his tongue.

Matheus began to teach him how to use his burgeoning vampiric powers to glamour them, although in that he was even more clumsy. Matheus assured him it would come with time. The trick, he said, was to empty his mind. That was so difficult for him as his mind was constantly racing from one subject to the next. Outside, he wanted to explore everything, inside, he wanted sex, or blood, or both.

One evening Matheus brought home a young girl. Well, relatively young. She was seventeen, so much older than Rene, and she had a woman's body. Matheus had already glamoured her, and she sat glassy-eyed before them.

“Your turn,” Matheus said.

“I still don't get it,” Rene said. He'd already fed off the girl and he sat there naked, body pink and flush with her blood, his small penis stiff and aching between his legs. Matheus had allowed him to have sex with several girls by this time, and Rene had come to crave the sensation of a woman's pussy wrapped around his young cock. That's all he could think of at that moment.

“Lean in close,” Matheus instructed, “so you can catch her gaze.” Rene did so. She had soft brown eyes. “Now just let everything go,” Matheus said softly, his strange accent making music of the words, almost hypnotic even without the glamour, which he knew no longer worked on him now that he was a vampire himself.

“Let yourself be dead,” Matheus said. Rene tried, mentally pushing aside all thoughts of sex, of blood. His penis began to wilt. “Good,” Matheus said. “You feel it.” Rene nodded, his gaze never leaving the girl's.

“You are empty,” Matheus continued softly. “A vacuum. Now you can pull her mind into yours.”

“Everything's gonna be okay,” Rene told her gently. “There's nothing to be scared of.”

“Good, good,” Matheus whispered. “Now tell her what she wants.”

Rene had seen it happen often enough to understand. “You want me,” the boy whispered. “You want to have sex with me so badly. I'm the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.”

“So beautiful,” the girl mumbled.

“Here,” he said, leaning back, spreading his legs. His penis began to lift again in anticipation. “Put it in your mouth.”

The girl sank to her knees without a word, leaning forward. Rene gasped as he felt her take his penis into her mouth, felt it quickly reach its full length. She couldn't suck nearly as well as Matheus, but knowing he had glamoured her, compelled her to do this thing, made up for the lack.

A few nights later, Matheus allowed him to glamour a girl his own age. They were cruising down the street in Matheus' Rolls-Royce Wraith when they saw her walking from a tiny convenience store about three miles from their home. Rene got out of the car a block ahead around a corner. When he came up to her he pretended to be lost. He could tell right away that she liked him. Glamouring someone was always so much easier, Matheus had explained, when the person wanted something from you. He walked her around a corner, leading her to the car which sat idling in a dark alley.

They took her home, and she undressed for him. Rene was fascinated with her tiny breasts, and her lightly-haired little mound. She admitted she'd never seen a boy naked, other than her baby brother, who was only two. She was fascinated by his penis, and she didn't hesitate when he asked her to suck him, learning quickly how not to hurt him. Not that he could really be hurt from a stray tooth scrape, but it was still an odd sensation he didn't care for. Afterward, he fed from her tender neck as he deflowered her, then drank again from the blood that leaked out between her legs.

Matheus' lessons were a constant. Each night the pair would stalk the streets, the old vampire teaching him about the world around him and how to be a denizen of the night. He learned to hide in plain sight, learned how to use his beauty to lure men and women who craved that beauty to him. Matheus had to glamour them sometimes, but slowly and surely he got better. Rene learned about the power of a human's home, how he had to be invited, how his powers were greatly diminished within. He learned about vampire society, about the rules that governed them, and their history in the world.

Rene had never been happier.

But then it ended. Eight months after being ushered into undeath, Matheus came to him with something in his eyes young Rene had never seen there before. Fear. They'd found out about him somehow, Matheus told him. Making a child vampire was forbidden. They all too often died quickly, unable to fend for themselves. Rene was anathema, an abomination, and both their lives were forfeit.

Matheus quickly made plans to leave New Orleans. They would leave the following night, by train. It had all been arranged. However, New Orleans had become Rene's home, and he wanted one last night to explore its dark charms. Matheus left to get them one last meal, allowing Rene to take the opportunity to go out for his own last night in the Big Easy. When he returned two hours later, Matheus' home, a beautiful mansion in the French Quarter, was engulfed in flame. Rene watched from across the street, his eyes watching the milling humans, the firemen, the police, and interspersed among them, their nature invisible to those around them, were the vampires.

Rene knew them at once. To Rene's vampiric eyes, Matheus glowed with pulsing purple and blue lights. It was sort of like a lava lamp, he always thought, amorphous blobs of bruised light, pulsing with beauty and power. So unlike the riotous reds of a human. In the crowd that night were three such purple and blue pulsing figures, and Rene knew that his friend, his lover, his maker, was gone.

He fled the city. It wasn't difficult to find a trucker to pick him up on the side of the road, the man pretending concern, and even feeling some to be fair, but burning inside with lust for him. Rene left him half-drained and dazed in a truck stop in Shreveport. Another ride, this time from a concerned old woman on her way home from church services, took him into Bon Temps, the home he hadn't seen in over a year.

It was late when he arrived at his parent's house. After eleven. The lights were out, and Rene wanted nothing more than to bang on the front door and call out to his family, but something, some learned wariness, stayed his hand. Instead, he went to the fake rock in the front flowerbed and removed the extra house key he knew would be there. He quietly unlocked the door, but was shocked moments later.

He couldn't enter. It was his own house, and he was a stranger to the energies that kept his kind out. He pressed against what seemed an invisible barrier, the door standing wide open, but he couldn't progress even an inch inside. He sobbed with frustration and despair. Finally, he went to his old bedroom window. Looking inside, he saw that the room was changed. Gone were the bunk beds, and now his little brother slept alone in a single bed. He tapped lightly on the window, more and more insistently, until his little brother Julian finally woke, his hair a blond, glowing halo to his vision.

The nine-year-old's eyes grew wide at the sight of his big brother, and he raced to the window, throwing it open. Rene couldn't believe how much the boy had grown, and the sight saddened him.

“Rene!” the boy practically shouted, and Rene hurriedly shushed him with a worried glance along the house toward his parent's room.

“Julian, you have to let me in, okay? But don't tell Mom and Dad.”

“But why not?” the little boy asked. “They miss you like crazy! We were on the news and everything! Everybody thinks you're dead!”

“Shhh,” he said softly to his little brother. “I'll explain, but just come and let me in, okay? Quietly.”

Julian rushed out of his room, and Rene met him at the front door. Julian stood there in red-trimmed Iron Man briefs, looking confused to see the front door standing wide open. “Why didn't you come in?” he asked.

“Just please ask me to come in,” Rene said, reaching out to test the barrier again. His fingers splayed as they pressed against the invisible force.

Face twisting in confusion, he shrugged his tiny shoulders and said, “Come in then.”

As if by magic, the barrier was gone, and Rene could enter the house. He followed his baby brother to the room they'd once shared, and he settled himself on the bed. The room smelled so strongly of his brother. As Julian sat beside him, he began to pepper him with whispered questions. Rene found himself lost in the strong beat of his brother's heartbeat. He was fascinated with the rapid pulse which jumped in the side of his smooth, graceful young neck. The riot of crimson and fiery reds which made up his brother's aura sang to him, and he began to feel the hunger. He hadn't fed that day, not feeling right about feeding on the old woman, and he felt the gnawing inside him. Julian smelled of Johnson's Baby Shampoo from his bath, and Rene found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss that smooth neck, to feel that rapid little pulse against his lips. Or perhaps to work his way downward, over the smooth stomach, to slide off Julian's little briefs, to nuzzle his tiny penis, before burying his fangs in the boy's upper thigh, deep into the femoral artery.

In horror, Rene realized that he had leaned forward, his head snaking toward his baby brother's neck. If he'd had a heartbeat, it would have been racing in alarm. In a split second, almost too fast for a human's eyes to track, Rene had his back against the wall across the room. Julian stared at him in alarm.

That's when Rene did the hardest thing he'd ever done in his thirteen years. He gazed deep into the innocent blue eyes of his little brother, and he emptied his mind, emptier than the black fathomless reaches of space, emptier than he had ever been before. He made Julian forget all about seeing him. Convinced him that his visit was nothing more than a dream, and then he urged him to sleep. Rene took a look in at his parents, but all he saw were glowing cardinal flames and he fled his home, crying tears of blood.

Time began to lose all meaning. His life was a blur. Lost in a haze of grief for both of the lives he'd lost, he wandered aimlessly, going from town to town, sleeping wherever he could find a refuge from the sun, in sewers, abandoned grain mills, the basements of empty houses. He fed from the lost and disenfranchised, the dregs. Homeless men and women, criminals, predators. He became a near feral thing, his clothing disintegrating on him until he was clad in nothing but rags, and then in nothing at all, wandering naked through the night, filthy with encrusted dirt and dried blood; a horrid, pale apparition haunting the night, nearly mindless except for the need for blood and shelter from the cruel sun.

Eventually he found himself in Shreveport, feeding from gang members, drug runners, the evil and corrupt. He fed their bodies to the river and lakes, leaving them for the fish and alligators who disguised the fang punctures he'd grown too bestial to hide.

Rene didn't think about his life. He didn't think about art and history or marvel at the beauty of the world. He thought, if coherent thought came to him, about blood, about his next meal. He became more and more indiscriminate about who he fed from, and there was no glamour anymore. He attacked and fed, and when he could drink no more he ripped out their throats, or throttled them. As a child vampire, and newly made at that, he was much stronger than he'd been as a twelve-year-old boy, but he was nowhere near as strong as Matheus had been, who'd once crushed a rock in his hand by way of demonstration. Still, he was as strong as strongest of human men, and so was usually more than a match for his victims. Some fought him, desperate to live, to ward off the nightmarish little monster, but his injuries healed quickly, and he rarely lost a battle.

Rarely. Sometimes though, a victim would get away, would fight him and flee. And so word began to spread. Whispers about a pale, naked demonic child that stalked the nights, hungry for blood. Eventually those whispers found certain ears, and then the vampires came.

Rene saw them immediately. A wild thing, living wholly on instinct, the older vampires had no chance of detecting him first. Rene stared at their glowing purplish auras as they hunted along the river, lying in wait for him. All the memories of New Orleans came flooding back to him, of Matheus, of his gentleness and caring, of the beauty of making love with him, of the wonders he'd shown him of his new vampiric world. And the memories of how those bruised purple beings had taken it all away from him.

Rene wanted to attack them, to rip them apart, to bury his fangs into them and taste their rich, exotic blood. He could sense their power though. Even from a distance it flowed off them in waves, and little Rene knew he was no match for these elder bloodsuckers. So he did the only thing he could do; he fled.

As his senses returned to him, a perception of his humanity if you will, he became aware of his physical state. He hadn't bathed since fleeing New Orleans, and he was layered in filth. Dirt, blood, offal, refuse. It coated him. His once golden hair was a tangled mat of black and brown grime. He even had mold growing on him. Running south, his legs a blur, as fast as a speeding car, he slowed in a small town south of the city. Two in the morning, the sleepy little suburb dark and silent. His feet were bleeding from the abuse, but they healed almost as soon as he stopped running.

Walking naked down quiet tree-lined streets, Rene could sense the lives within the homes he passed. Even through walls he could see the dim red auras of the humans sleeping within. Eventually he found a home without any auras. The accumulation of local newspapers in the driveway, as well as the stuffed mailbox, told the boy that the occupants had been gone for some time and were unlikely to come home this late at night.

Rene easily hopped the wooden privacy fence into the backyard. He was thrilled to see the doggy door which led into the kitchen, and his small body was easily able to squeeze through it. A home would repel him if there were people home. It was like the house became suffused with a portion of their life-force, and when they were within it activated a barrier of sorts. With nobody home, there was no one to activate that energy, which was still there, but dormant. It was something Rene could actually feel, but again, it didn't bar him without the homeowner's recent presence to trigger it, and the fact that they had been gone for some time made it even weaker.

Without the need for lights, Rene made his way into the master bath, and for the first time in he didn't know how long, he showered. He took his time, scrubbing the grime and filth from his body, making sure he cleaned every inch of himself, going through three washcloths and a good portion of the body wash he found. He sat on the floor of the spacious walk-in shower, the hot water beating on his back as he carefully cleaned his hair, nearly strand by strand, cleaning and combing with his fingers, unraveling the numerous knots and tangles. The filth slowly sloughed off him.

An hour passed before he was satisfied that he was fully clean, the water long gone cold, but the temperature didn't bother him. His body was impervious to the extremes of hot or cold.

Still in darkness, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, he thought he might be even more pale than the last time he'd seen his reflection. His hair was the exact same length it had been when he'd died. He carefully ran a comb through it, working out the last of the tangles, then used a brush, water dripping down over his bare shoulders. He dried himself once again, and then searched the house.

Rene was excited at first to discover that the people who owned the house had a son, but a quick look through the boy's drawers revealed that he must be about his brother's age. Or his brother's age the last time he'd seen him. He wondered briefly how old his brother would be now. Thinking about it, he realized he didn't even know how old he was. Then it really hit him for the first time. He wouldn't age. He wouldn't grown any older. His body wouldn't mature. He wouldn't get pubic hair, or a big dick. In fact, his body wouldn't change at all. The rules against making a child vampire began to make more sense to him.

Returning to the bathroom, he stood staring at himself in the mirror for a long time. Lost in the knowledge that he would always be a beautiful little boy. Suddenly he felt a burst of anger and his fist shot forward, shattering the mirror. He looked at his knuckles, sliced open and sluggishly dripping blood. Then he watched as the wound quickly knit itself shut. He licked at the bit of blood there, then returned to the boy's room.

Everything was much too small. He tried to struggle into a pair of the boy's underwear, but they were tight around his thighs before he could even get near his dangling penis. He crumpled them and stuffed them back in the drawer, frustrated. The pants were no better. Shorts wouldn't fit. Eventually he found his way to the master bedroom, but that was little help either. The man's clothes were all ridiculously large on him. He'd have needed a belt just to hold up the underwear, and the man's t-shirts hung to his knees.

Finally he found a t-shirt in the woman's closet that wasn't too big for him. It was pink and said 'Versace' in yellow, but at least it mostly fit, the hem just brushing against the root of his pale dick. He found no money, though there was lots of jewelry. Rene had no idea if it was good stuff or just cheap costume jewelry, and he knew there was no way he could pawn it in any case, so he left it all.

Leaving the house in his pink t-shirt, dick dangling and pale ass flexing as he walked, he went in search of something to wear. Sneaking through the quiet neighborhood, he peeked into windows, checked lawns and garages for signs. The closer he got to the crimson aura of a human, the better he was able to approximate size and age. He found several homes which had sleeping kids, but they were all either too young or too old to provide him with what he needed.

Eventually he came to a modest ranch house, with a pickup and an SUV in the drive. By the front door was a boy's bicycle, yellow with black details, a bit beaten up and leaning against a hedge. Rene crept along the side of the house, finding two adults in one room. He hopped over a fence into the backyard, happy this time to find no signs of dogs. Dogs could sense vampires, and didn't seem to care for them much. Over the fence again to the other side of the house, and there, through a bedroom window, he found a boy about his own age. Or the age he'd been when he died. He realized he didn't even know what month or year it was.

Rene carefully removed the screen. The window was thankfully one of the lift type, rather than the crank kind common in the south. Then Rene just stared at the boy, unsure of how to proceed. The boy was covered to his waist in a pale blue sheet, and his shaggy chestnut hair spread over his pillow. Rene watched the soft rise and fall of his breathing and stared at the swirling crimson aura, so vital and healthy.

Eventually, he tapped at the window. Louder and louder, until the boy jerked. He rolled, startled brown eyes wide. He was a pretty boy, maybe thirteen, Rene guessed. The little vampire adopted a scared face, pleading in his eyes, and motioned to the boy. The kid warily rose to his feet, dressed in a pair of black boxer-briefs.

“What?” the boy asked hesitantly, voice soft and muffled by the glass, but clear to Rene's heightened senses. “Who are you?”

“Please,” Rene begged, glancing over his shoulder as if in fear. He turned pleading eyes back to the boy. “Can I please come in? He's after me!”

“Who is?” the boy asked, cautiously walking closer, looking past Rene to the house next door.

“I don't know,” Rene said. “A man. He kidnapped me. I just got away. Please can I come in?”

The boy looked behind him, obviously thinking of his parents sleeping nearby. Rene interjected, wanting to avoid the boy going to get them. “Please, just for a minute? He's gonna find me any second!”

Looking torn, the boy turned back to Rene and opened the window and motioned him inside. The smell of the boy nearly overwhelmed the little vampire. Boyish musk and sweet, sweet blood. “Hurry up. We'll call the police, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” Rene said as he squirmed through the window.

The boy then noticed that he was naked from the waist down, his eyes locked on Rene's little penis. “Why-?” he began to asked, but quick as a striking snake, Rene clamped his hand over the boy's mouth, his other on the back of his head, and pushed him back toward the bed.

The boy was a bit taller than Rene, about five-foot-one, but he was no match for Rene's preternatural strength, and his eyes grew wide in fear and confusion as Rene pushed him down onto the bed and crawled up to crouch over him. The boy gave a muffled cry and tried to struggle, but it was pointless.

Rene stared into the boy's eyes, concentrating. He tried to empty his mind, to become a vacuum, but the kid continued to struggle and whine, staring up at him in fear. Rene put everything he had into emptying himself, but his mind was too undisciplined, and he got nowhere at all. It had been too long since he'd attempted to glamour a human.

Worse, he was distracted by the smell of the boy. Lost in his wildness, feeding on dirty homeless and drug-addled criminals, Rene had forgotten about the sweet perfume of a young, healthy person. Leaning close, sniffing, Rene realized he'd never fed on a boy. A girl, yes, but never a boy. There was a wild muskiness coming from the young teen that aroused his senses, and crouched over the boy, he felt the tip of his penis brushing against the boy's stomach.

Rene tried once more to force his will upon the boy, but his lack of practice coupled with the strong life-force of the house which protected the family made it impossible. Knowing there was no help for it, Rene said softly to the boy, “I'm sorry,” and then his fangs slid into place and he bent to the boy's neck.

There was a boyish gasp, muffled by his hand, and then the ambrosial rush of young blood into his mouth. Rene was nearly overwhelmed, swooning as the sweet crimson flow filled him. His heart gave a surprised thump, then raced into action, beating rapidly, speeding the blood throughout his body. The smell of the boy in his nostrils led to his penis stiffening, and he pushed it against the boy's stomach, feeling the sensation of a sexual thrill race through him as he realized he hadn't had sex since leaving New Orleans.

Beneath him, the boy was moaning, and not just from the blood loss. Rene was very familiar with the sexual thrill of a vampire bite. He reached down between his own legs, past his rigid erection, and found the boy's straining hard-on stretching his underwear. He stroked it, and the boy moaned louder.

For a moment, Rene was overcome with the urge to rip out the boy's throat, to leave him drained and dying in his bed, but he forced the urge away. He had no desire to hurt the boy. In fact, his desires lay in an entirely different direction. He summoned the will to retract his fangs, mildly surprised when they obeyed him, and he lapped gently at the boy's neck, the enzymes in his saliva clotting and closing the wound. Rene knew that there would be a small bruise, and the boy would be a bit tender there, but there would be no sign of puncture marks. If he gave the boy some of his blood, even the bruise would heal immediately.

Giving the boy some blood was what he had in mind, as he continued to caress the kid's young boner. In his weakened state, half enthralled by the euphoria of the bite, the boy made no move to resist or even move as Rene slid downward, off the boy and the bed until he was kneeling between the boy's legs.

Rene reached up and took hold of the kid's briefs, skinning them downward, careful to lift them over the straining erection. The boy didn't resist as his underwear slid down his legs and off his feet. Rene reached out and gripped the boy's young cock, fascinated. It was larger than his own, but nowhere near as large as the adult cocks he'd been used to handling. It wasn't quite five inches long, and only a bit thicker than his own. He was circumcised, the head wide and flaring, glowing red to Rene's sight. His testicles were the size of ping-pong balls, his scrotum covered in sparse, silky hairs. At the base of his cock, a small spray of brown hairs. Rene felt a hint of jealousy, but he pushed it away.

Rene leaned forward and rasped his small tongue up along the length of the boy's straining cock. The boy moaned. Holding the small balls, Rene traced his way upward, eventually taking the tip of the boy's penis into his mouth. He suckled at the spongy head, loving the heat of it. He could feel the blood just beneath the surface, pounding, racing, but he had no desire to bite into it. Instead he swallowed it, easily taking the boy all the way into his throat, until his lips were pressed against the silky-haired base. Rene had learned long ago how to take much larger cocks than this into his throat.

“What are you doing?” the boy gasped, moaning. His hands drifted downward, caressing Rene's still-damp hair. His slender hips began to work, driving himself into Rene's eager mouth, his young cock throbbing desperately. Rene reached out to caress the boy's body, allowing the kid to do all the work, pistoning his cock in and out of Rene's receptive mouth.

It was over in minutes. The boy gasped, shuddered, and suddenly Rene's mouth was filled with an entirely different life-giving liquid. He drank it in eagerly, surprised at how thin and watery it was, but also shocked at the sweetness of it. Almost like blood.

Matheus had explained that vampires could also feed off of cum. A lot more was needed to sustain a vampire, but there were vampires in the world who fed on nothing else, their nights filled with the drinking of cum. Matheus said it was nice, but too much work. This boy's cum affected him like no other he'd ever encountered, singing through his body, making his small cock ache.

Rene finally released the boy's cock, still mostly hard and shining with his spit, the thinnest amount of blood mixed in, as it was with all his bodily fluids. He glanced down at himself, saw his rigid penis staring up at him. Crawling back up to crouch over the boy, Rene let his fangs slide forth again. The boy saw them and his eyes widened in fear. Bringing a finger to his mouth, Rene pierced it, his tiny sharp fang puncturing the skin until a single ruby drop hovered there. Then Rene pushed his finger into the startled boy's mouth.

He held it there, while the boy stared up at him, shocked. Then, after a moment, the brown eyes rolled back. The boy's whole body stiffened, and beneath Rene's bare ass, he felt the sudden resurgence of the boy's young erection as it pressed against his hanging scrotum. Rene leaned down and let his lips lightly caress the other boy's, who's eyes rolled back to stare at him.

Once again, Rene emptied his mind, remembering his lessons, and blurry from the bite, and filled with a drop of his blood, this time he watched as the boy's eyes glazed over, fully glamoured. Rene smiled in satisfaction. “What's your name?” he asked softly.

“Michael,” the boy responded a bit dreamily. “Michael Underwood.”

“How old are you, Michael?”

“Thirteen.” Then, “And a half.”

“What's the date?” Rene asked.

“August seventeenth,” the boy said. Then continued, “I think it might be the eighteenth now, since it's late.”

“What year?” Rene pressed.

The boy didn't think the question at all odd, and he said, “2015.”

Rene thought for a moment. A month short of two years. How had so much time passed? He'd be fifteen in just three months. He shook his head, knowing he could worry about all this later. Right now he had a willing and helpless boy, and an achingly hard dick.

“Did you like it when I sucked you?” Rene asked, and the boy nodded eagerly. “I'd like you to suck me now, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael answered, and Rene crawled off him. He turned around to lie the correct way on the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow under his head. It had been so long since he'd had a pillow. The smell of the boy was all over it. It made his dick throb.

Michael moved to lie beside Rene, his face near his crotch. A bit hesitantly, he reached out to take Rene's slender young penis between his thumb and forefinger. He explored it carefully, looking fascinated. Then he leaned down and carefully slid his tongue up along the shaft. The heat of the boy, the wetness, his breath against him, brought back a flood of memory and sensation, which made Rene's head spin. His mouth dropped open and he moaned as he felt the boy take him gently into his mouth, felt his soft lips close around him.

Rene felt his fangs slide into place. He was nearly helpless to prevent it when he was aroused. Michael was obviously sucking his first cock, but he was taking from the lessons of his own first blowjob minutes before, and learning quickly. He was able to take all of Rene's meager length, his tongue poking out on each downward stroke to lap at his little balls. It had been so long that Rene felt himself nearly there after mere minutes. He didn't want it to end like that however. He needed more.

“Stop,” he gasped. “Stop for a sec, Michael,” and the boy stopped, letting Rene's stiff nail slip wetly from his mouth. Rene looked around desperately, and spotted a bottle of Gold Bond lotion on the boy's bedside table. The vampire wondered for a moment if the boy used it to masturbate, and wondered if his parents realized that he likely did.

“Give me the lotion,” he instructed insistently. Michael reached out and grabbed the bottle, handing it to him. Licking his lips in anticipation, Rene squirted two pumps into his palm then reached out to slide his fist wetly over Michael's straining erection. Nice and slick, he then reached between his legs, coating his asshole, sliding a greasy finger inside, worked it in and out.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, and Michael quickly complied. “Now lean down,” he said, until he could grab the boy's cock. “Lower,” he said. “Lower.” And then he could brush the tip of the boy's dick against his swollen hole. “Now push,” Rene said, gasping as the boy entered him.

“That's it,” Rene moaned, reaching out to grip the boy's ass. He pulled him down, feeling the full length of the teen's cock filling him. Wrapping his skinny legs around the boy's thighs, he gasped and said, “Fuck me, Michael.”

The thirteen-year-old needed no further prompting, instinct taking over as he began to drive himself into Rene, his balls slapping as he worked himself rapidly in and out, his breathing quickly growing harsh and ragged.

Rene felt the boy filling him again and again, the wonderful heat and friction sliding against his immature prostate, the fullness of a cock filling him again after all this time. Michael looked like a phoenix, shining brightly above him as he pumped up and down, grunting as he drove his cock into him. Rene reached down and gripped his cock, began jerking himself rapidly as Michael fucked him. He wondered how he'd ever gotten to a place where this kind of pleasure was forgotten.

Eventually the teen reached a ragged end, his breath heaving, his body shaking as he drove himself forward one last time. Rene felt his insides rippling as Michael filled his rectum with his hot boy juice, and the sensation drove him over the edge, his cock jerking spasmodically as thin streams of watery, bloody semen pumped out onto his hairless groin.

Michael fell down across him, exhausted, the bloody emission smearing across his belly. Rene easily pushed him onto his back, then straddled his chest, blood still dripping from his cock. He pushed his mostly hard member into the boy's mouth, and Michael eagerly clamped his lips around him, sucking the last of his bloody offering. Then Rene had the boy clean all evidence of his cum from his groin before crawling down and similarly cleaning the bigger boy.

Sated finally, both with blood and magical teen cum, Rene let the boy go back to sleep while he raided his closet, picking out briefs and socks and jeans and shirts. A discarded backpack, obviously not used given the state of it and the presence of a much newer one on his dresser, allowed him to pack his new belongings away.

Leaning over the sleeping boy, he kissed him tenderly, then left him there like that, wondering if he'd think it had all been a dream. Wondering as well what his mom or dad might think if they came into his room in the morning and found him stretched out naked on his bed. Smiling at the thought, he exited the house and continued south.