Chris bounced as he climbed out of the car outside of the hotel where he was meeting Sam. It was kind of crazy to think that he was about to submit to someone who owned all of this, but he was too excited to really give the financial dynamic much thought at the moment. He'd loved what he'd seen on Sam's Only Fans account, and he couldn't believe how lucky he was to get to experience him in person. "Hi, Sir!" he said brightly, seeing Sam just inside the front doors. "Thank you for the car. It wasn't necessary but I mean, I'm here now, so... I'm ready!"
Who: @samjacksonwc and @natusvincere
When: Current Timing
Where: An unassuming alley in town.
What: Vic has waited too long between feedings and inadvertently feasts on the first eligible bachelor..er....human she can get her hands on. Unfortunately for both of them, that happens to be Sam.
Warnings: N/A
Vic never made mistakes like this. She hadn’t gone too long in between eating in centuries, because the consequences were far too dire. There was too much similarity to when she was first turned- to the desperate, gnawing bloodlust. The urge to kill, to harm, to feed in the most vicious, visceral way and maybe never be satisfied by it. The thoughts that ran through her head while she was in that state, they were why she knew vampires were monsters. They were what convinced her they needed to be destroyed. Feeling them herself brought on extra waves of self hatred and despair, but that was after the fact.
Because right now, fangs bared, all she could focus on was finding something to eat.
The blood bank was fucking closed, of course. How did she let her supply get so depleted so fast? What had her so distracted lately that she hadn’t noticed sooner? Maybe she could break in. Yea, that would work. Break in, and leave enough cash to pay for the damages. No. There wasn’t enough time. She needed to feed now. The smells around her were intoxicating. There were too many people… too many-... She clenched her fists to stop herself from grabbing a passerby, only to start pacing in a nearby alley.
For a relatively small town, White Crest posed too many questions sometimes, and it was the Tourism Board that decided to answer those questions to the best of their ability to ensure that the town would not lose any money. Or people. But mostly money. So what the hell was one of their board members, a certain Sam Jackson, doing in an alley near the blood bank? Having a civilized conversation with a homeless man, of course! Yep. Definitely civilized.
“Don’t freaking lie to me, man,” Sam grabbed the homeless man by his unwashed hoodie and forced him against the alley’s wall, not as hard as he thought it did, more like carry him and place against it, much to the homeless man’s confusion as well. Bad cop, Sam could never play that role properly. “My friend said you had the goods, and I need the goods.” Sam tried his best impression of someone who would do these things, who has been doing these things, someone that obviously wasn’t him. “Something’s…been haunting me the past few days, and I need your goods to help me ignore that something, and I need your goods right now!”
“W-what the hell are you talking about?” The homeless man was genuinely confused. “I don’t deal, man! I’m not… Oh, is this because I’m homeless? Bro, that’s fucked up!” Sam jerked back and immediately let the guy go. Was Brad Bradley fucking with him again? “What? No, that’s not what I— Don’t you sell cheap Walkmans?” Both men just stared at each other for a while, so very confused. “Y-yeah, but can’t you just afford a new phone? Or like a Spotify subscription?” At that, Sam wiped grime off his suit. Like a complete douche. “I could, but that’s not really going to go with the vibe, if you know what I mean?” The homeless man clearly did not, but the homeless man also did not want to stay with Sam any longer. “Fine. Let me just get the merchandise from all the way over there.” And with that, he ran away.
“He’s not coming back, is he?” Sam could have chased after him, that much was true, but the homeless man was right: He could just get a Spotify subscription. Also, his shoes weren’t made for running. Or chasing after someone just so he can buy a cheap Walkman. “Fuck me,” he turned around in exasperation, only to see someone else approach. Sam squinted to try and get a good look at the new person but a smile found its way on his lips before he could succeed. Could it be? Another person who could sell him a cheap Walkman? “Hello! Are you in the mood to make a deal?” Wait, is that a woman?
An altercation in front of her stopped Vic in her tracks. Two men were doing what men do best: being idiots and throwing each other against walls. Would they draw blood? She licked her lips, then felt a wave of nausea for hoping for such a thing. Wait. This idiot fight looked pretty one-sided when she paid enough attention. She grunted, taking a slow step forward toward them, her fists still clenched in agony. Yes, definitely one sided. One of them was confused, backing away, and the other was aggressively looking for advice on how to walk. Idiot. She blinked, watching them with sweat in her brow. The hunger was ripping through her, and against her normal logic, she knew exactly how to get satiated. Men who beat people up for advice were criminals. Criminals were bad people, almost as bad as vampires, and so there was nothing wrong with feeding from them, right?
Her brain couldn’t process the words that were being said to her, because there was only one goal. Feed. And that was exactly what she was going to do. She bound toward the man, taking two steps at a time now, grabbing his shoulders when she reached him. Much like she watched him do to the man who ran away, she practically threw him against the wall, his bared neck enticing her in the most taunting way. And when she bit town, the sickeningly sweet taste filled her senses as relief washed over her. It tasted- no-, it felt like all things good. Like Lyra and fresh paints and cool, starlit nights where the dew of the grass tickled your feet. How had she deprived herself of something so fresh for so long?
“Whoa, you’re fast,” were the only words Sam was able to speak before the strange woman was upon him, overpowering him with relative ease. For a split second, Sam felt horror at being decapitated right then and there. Everything was happening too fast. She didn’t even answer his question. How rude. When he felt her teeth sink into his flesh, he felt himself tense up, as if his entire body had been frozen in place. By fear perhaps? Or was there something else, something worse that had taken control over his very being. This is kinda hot.
When was the last time Sam was intimate with another person? He couldn’t even remember. As the vampire fed on her oblivious prey, all that the boring human could think of was how sexy this must look to anyone else who’d chance upon them, forgetting that this was a dark alley where wiser men would dare not tread and not some high school corridor where a clique of gossips would then spread rumors of this “hot and heavy” encounter throughout the university the very next day. “I should probably stop watching those movies on Netflix,” he muttered weakly, his body and his fate now in the woman’s hands, mercy. If I die here, please let me take one final, good look at this girl’s face, and please let her be hot. Or him. I’m not even sure anymore if she, he, they…
It was all relief. Sweet, sweet relief overtaking Vic’s senses, until her senses had the sense to right themself once again. Then, almost as soon as it came, the relief switched over to dread. What the fuck was she doing? Was she feeding from an actual, real life human right now? “Fuck!”, she said, pulling away. Her hands remained on the man’s shoulders, keeping him in place for the time. “Fuck, I…” Her eyes were wide, desperate and searching. The man was fine, she could still hear his heartbeat, but she couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. How selfish of her. It was good, right? Because that meant she didn’t kill him and she wasn’t as much of a monster as killing him would have made her. But… what if he told someone? What if as soon as she let him go, he ran to the nearest person and outed her, and then everyone in town would know what she was.
Would there be enough time to make it home to grab Winnie before she fled the town?
“What?!”, she said incredulously, her head snapping back to the man. His words made her furious. “I just… I just drank your fucking blood out in public, and all you can think about is Netflix? Should I get you some popcorn next time, you dolt?” She released her hands from his shoulders, holding her forehead instead. “This isn’t happening… this isn’t happening.”
Sam, being the absolute dolt that he was, just gave the woman an awkward grin, especially after confirming that she was indeed, in his words, very hot. Every man has dreamed of being sucked on by a beautiful vampire woman, right? That or Sam has serious issues. He hasn’t had the best luck when it came to intimacy, though, but to be fair, this seemed very on brand for him. After all, the last woman he was intimate with turned out to be part of a cult. Although she didn’t try to sacrifice him or some weird shit like that, Sam would’ve believed that, especially after she tried to run with his money after cheating on him with another cultist. You’d think that wouldn’t be such a surprise.
“Believe you me, this isn’t the weirdest thing that has happened to me this month. Not even the worst,” Sam let out an inappropriate chuckle, not unlike the Phillsbury Dough Boy being tickled or whatever that puft man thing with the baker’s hat was called, the one from Ghost Busters, the one that got embiggened in the old movies, and in the new one, had an army of itself. Most recently, Sam had been chased off by coyotes made of air. Definitely not normal coyotes. He’s also been visited by the ghost of his dad, which was most likely the worst thing that had happened to him recently. Worse than being fed on by a hot vampire lady or being chased by a hot doctor’s magic dogs. “Sometimes, you just gotta see the brighter side of things.”
“Oh, it’s happening all right,” Sam did not know when to shut the hell up. All the blood sucking, despite him losing more than gaining anything, could not curb his excitement. If anything, it only seemed to make him giddier at the thought of being this close to a woman. Undead or not. “Don’t worry: I won’t tell. This your first time?” It was Sam’s, and he wouldn’t complain if she wasn’t gentle. As long as she didn’t end him, though, which she really should.
“Well, you live in White Crest, you peabrain. Of course weird things happen to you.” This man’s apathetic joy in an absolute dire situation annoyed her, and she wasn’t being shy about showing that annoyance on her face. Vic squinted her eyes at him, but then looked away quickly so she could wipe off her mouth. She still couldn’t quite believe she lost control the way she had, even if only for a moment. No matter how much she tried, no matter what she did, she was no different than the monsters she was trying to rid the world of. The thought horrified her.
She slapped the man across the face, as if it might shut him up long enough for her to think. “Shh”, she said, swallowing hard. She looked around them… no one seemed to be there. Maybe the sight wasn’t so strange in a place like this, or maybe no one cared. No, this wasn’t her first time doing this, despite the man’s assumption. It was just the first time in a few decades. “Shut up. What’s your name? I have lots and lots of money. Understand? Lots. More than the stupid mayor of this town. I can pay you to never speak of this.”
She wasn’t wrong. She was out of line but she was right. White Crest isn’t a normal town. Everything that happened here was beyond normal. Most people just ignore that, focusing instead on their own comfort and safety. But in this town, comfort and safety is as rare as anything normal. Sam didn’t think about any of that, though, focusing instead on the woman’s lovely face. She seemed familiar to him somehow. Like they’ve met before. Or maybe that’s just the lack of blood in his veins. “Fair.”
That slap, however, only served to heighten his interest. It wasn’t the first time he’d been slapped by a beautiful woman and he doubted it would be the last. Prior to this, he had someone slap him for intimacy. But that was years ago, before he moved back to town, before his father died and came back as an annoying ghost, a constant reminder of his shitty past. Getting snacked on by a hot vampire lady? Definitely something far removed from his shitty past. Sam thought it was exciting, and at most, very nice.
“Sam,” he held out his hand for a shake. Like a complete idiot, still grinning from ear to ear. “Sam Jackson. I work for the Tourism Board. Listen, this is just between you and me, but if you have that much money, you can even pay me to feed you every night. If you know what I mean.”
Vic couldn’t tell if she had taken so much blood from the man that it made him delusional, or if he was just a dolt normally, but either way, she was having less and less anxiety about the backlash that might come of this. Maybe he was just stupid and immoral enough to not tell him what happened, … maybe if she played her cards right, she could convince him to forget.
His reaction to her slap was not what she expected, and while it disgusted and annoyed her, it also gave her an idea. Her scowl turned into a forced grin, and she slowly offered her hand to him, accepting his handshake. “I’m…”, she looked to her right, and then back to Sam, “Trixie. Trixie Galore.” She chided herself inwardly. Trixie Galore sounded like a stripper name. Though, maybe it was the perfect ruse to keep this guy interested enough. “Oh honey”, she said, her voice rising a few octaves. She was speaking to him like he was a child, but she doubted he noticed. “Trixie Galore doesn’t feed on just anybody. I’m going to need you to find a respectable job if you want me to even consider that option.” There. At least, if anything, this might make Sam better himself in the long run. A job for the tourism board sounded incredibly tacky, and who wanted that?
She tilted her head, ruffling his hair a little bit. “I’ll tell you what. You become an upstanding member of society, and then look for me in the yellow pages. That’s Trixie G-al-orr”, She slowed her new fake name down, nice and slow so it sounded real. “Then we’ll talk. Sound good?”
“Trixie…” Sam winced at that name. It felt like salt on his wounds, even though time should have healed all those wounds. Maybe time just couldn’t. Maybe the wounds were too deep, too powerful. Or maybe instead of allowing himself to heal, Sam did what his ilk always did, just freaking shoved all that pain, all that trauma, to the back of his mind, the deepest abyss of his thoughts. Fuck coming to terms with what happened, right? Why would you need to forgive? When you can just forget? This is probably why.
“I had an ex named Trixie,” Sam heaved a sigh as his demeanor turned dour, the negative memories flowing back to him like someone had just opened the floodgates and he was standing right in front of them. Like an idiot. Which he was. “She was nice, though you’re clearly hotter, Trixie Galore.” And sexier. Definitely sexier. Sam was a fan of sex workers. He had no prejudice against them, though that was mostly because he had the fortunate experience of befriending someone in college who turned out to be a sex worker. To Sam, she was amazing, though they never slept together. Friends don’t sleep with friends. How ironic. “You’re not into cults, though, right?”
His ex, also named Trixie, ended up as a member of some cult. They broke up after he found out about it. On the same day he found her in bed with another guy, her coworker, who was actually also a member of the same cult. The next day, he also found out she tried to steal his money, which was fine because most of that money was his father’s, and Sam also hated his dad.
“Ohoho, for you, I’ll do anything, even though I already have that.” What’s more respectable than being a member of the Tourism Board, right? A bright idea plopped in his empty skull, and Sam immediately fished for his phone. “Wait, why don’t you just give me your number? Would be easier to arrange these things, if you know what I mean?”
Of course this man would have an ex named Trixie. Tacky job, tacky ex-girlfriend… tacky pants. Yes, the more and more Vic evaluated him, the tackier she realized he was. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, choosing instead to press her lips together in a tight smile, ruffling his hair again. “I’ve never been a fan of them, no. I mean, unless… would cults be a turn off to you?” Maybe this was her out. She’d tell him she was in a cult, push him against the wall, and run out of there faster than he could ask if it was religious or fanatical.
She placed her hand on his, effectively stopping him from searching for the phone from the time being. “Now what fun would that be, Sam?” she asked, letting her voice drop a few octaves again. She’d been going between sexy and perky and back to sexy again, because it all seemed to be working at least a bit. “I mean, you like games, don’t you? Finding my number will be like a fun scavenger hunt for you, don’t you think? I’ll keep myself sufficiently satiated in the meantime, you tease.” She giggled, and now she was even annoying herself. “Sound like a plan?”
Sam had to blink twice as he tried to debate with himself the most appropriate response to her question. Back in university, he was a master debater, but he just couldn’t get on with the whole cult thing. Maybe if he had actually allowed himself to heal way back then, he would no longer have the same issue now. At least not make it as personal as it was. The woman was very much hot, though, and it was the strongest and only argument he could make against the distraction of his past romantic trauma. It took him a while before he realized they seem to be on the same side versus cults. “Oh, thank god! I mean, uhh, I’m not a fan of them, either. I guess that’s another thing we have in common. Hehehe.”
“Games?” At this point, a tiny bit of common sense tried to poke into Sam’s tiny head, reminding him that games with strange people in alleys never end well, but again, she was hot, so Sam shrugged that thought off his head. “I love games. I love scavenger hunts. I love you,” he lost himself in her eyes before joining in with all the giggling, smitten by all that mystery and danger wrapped in a very attractive bundle. So attractive that Sam was pretty much just handing himself over to a predator, like a mouse that wanted to bone a snake. How does that even… You know what? Sure. “Yes, a great plan. So your place then?”
Vic blinked, resisting the urge to shake her head. The one ounce of common sense Sam seemed to have was about cults, for some strange reason. Despite the sex appeal seeming to work, she wondered if being in a cult could be a big enough turn off to make him run away and try to forget this whole thing ever happened. “No, no… the organization I’m in is definitely not a cult.” Those documentaries on the television always said that people who were part of cults never realized they were. “No, my leader even lets us choose our own flavor of kool-aid. I’m partial to cherry”, she added with a wink.”
“Games”, she confirmed with a nod, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Trixie loves games.” She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away just a bit, deciding now was as good a time as any to have Sam start on his little game. It would be an impossible search, of course. Trixie Galore didn’t exist. She squinted her eyes at his last question. This dude clearly couldn’t take a hint. “No. My place is off limits. We will simply find another alley once you complete the game, but remember: the game isn’t done until you find another job, and then find a way to contact me. Am I making myself clear?” She was back to speaking to him like a child, and it was a wonder he hadn’t noticed her major shifts in tones yet. A deep part of her was strangely proud of that fact.
Sam took a moment as he squinted at Trixie Galore, a little suspicious, but then immediately shrugged and nodded his head, believing her claim wholeheartedly. After all, that’s what all relationships required, especially at the beginning: a whole lot of trust. Sam trusted that Trixie wasn’t a cultist because she said so, and Trixie should be able to trust Sam that he can provide for her with a stable job. Or at least that last part’s what he believed, too. “All right then. I believe you. I, too, love cherry kool-aid.” No, he didn’t, but that’s not that big of a deal to lie about, right? Right.
“Oh,” Sam was a little disappointed when he finally realized he wasn’t getting some action from a random hottie he met at a random alley right away. At least not until he finished…the game. He was a little lost on that one. Inside him, his two sides warred: The side that wanted to get laid and the side that wanted to lay his father to eternal torment. Weird phrasing, but all right. It was at that moment when he realized his desire to one-up his father in the field he obsessed over was stronger than his desire to bend over Trixie, or get bent over by her, he’s not that picky. “Wait, you want me to quit my job? But I love my job! You quit your job!”
Sam suddenly exploded, mostly because he was finding it very hard not to do what Trixie wanted him to do because she was so pretty and she was, like, so interested in him, right? But then his stupid dad! His stupid dead dad whom he would never forgive and still wanted to torment by proving him wrong, by being much better at him at this whole politics bullshit, had once again found a way to ruin his life. Heaving a sigh and literally facepalming, Sam shook his head, eyes unable to meet Trixie’s, only her sweet, sweet chest. “I…don’t think I can do that, Trixie. I love you, but you can’t ask a man to give up his job. We’ll always have this alley at least.” He then closed his eyes and puckered up, arms open for an embrace, believing a sweet goodbye would come next.
There was clearly nothing Vic could say to turn this fool off, and she let out a small, annoyed huff. She pressed her lips together, nodding and patting him on the back; it was the only pseudo-sympathy she could muster up for a man who wasn’t turned off by cults and disgusting, sugary juice. “The best things in life are worth waiting for”, she said matter of factly. “And I am one of those things, obviously.” But then, there was the sudden explosion from Sam, and she was finally finding herself amused by his antics. So insulting his job multiple times was the only way to get a rise out of him? So be it.
“Tourism is ruining this town, Sam. It’s time you realized your true worth and got into the best job in the world that I also have: Mundane office work. That is, of course, only if you’re willing to go to the limit… for me.” She put her best fake disappointed face when he declined, despite being completely thrilled that something was finally pushing him away. She squinted at him, following his line of sight and moving to adjust her shirt when she saw where they were staring.
Ugh, and when she looked back up and saw his stupid, sloppy, puckered lips, she did the first thing she could think of and slapped him right across the face. Again. “I’m not just some common whore you can come back to when you please, you sleeze bag!” She huffed, dramatic and loud, and slapped him a third time. “We are through! I’ll see you in hell!” With that, she stormed off, equal parts mortified and (somehow) amused. If that whole interaction didn’t start with her losing control, it might have even been funny.
Having Dexter pulled actually from her arms had been the most difficult thing Madeline had ever experienced. She’d wanted nothing more than to physically fight to keep him with her, but she logically knew that that would only cause them issues down the line. She needed to be a proper, respectable Dominant in order to get him back. She stood at the school gate, watching the van drive away until it was out of sight, before wiping her tears from her face and marching her way up to Sam’s suite on the top floor--right next to the one that she should have been moving into right this moment. She knocked on the closed door, hoping that Sam would answer and that Owen would have the twins in another room. She didn’t want them to see her like this, but she knew this is where she needed to be right now. When the door opened and the tall, blond man stood on the other side, she simply shook her head and began to cry again. She didn’t say anything and just closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her friend and burying her face in his chest, as her fear and worry and grief finally bubbled completely to the surface. @sammythedominant
Archer grabbed his vanilla frappe from the barista and took a sip of it as he headed over to the table where Sam was already sitting with his own drink. He gave a little nod of appreciation at the taste; he usually just popped a basic cup into his Keurig machine in the mornings, so ordering anything at a coffee shop was new. He figured he deserved a bit of a treat, though. “Thanks, Sir,” he said, lifting the coffee up in cheers. “So... you have a chance to read through everything?” @sammythedominant
Alex was pretty sure he’d never been as turned on in his life as he had been for the past week. It was like a constant state of arousal, with only momentary relief from it after he jerked off in the privacy of his room. He was definitely grateful for the lack of a roommate so far, that was for sure. Whether it was thinking about Beau’s hands running over his body, watching demonstrations in class, or fantasizing about his upcoming scene with Mr. Sam, Alex had been struggling to hide his boner all day long. By the time he was on his knees outside Sam’s door after classes on Monday afternoon, he was pretty sure he’d burst at a single touch. Having changed into an old pair of sweatpants that he didn’t really like wearing in public, he knocked once on Sam’s door and then put his hands in his lap, carefully away from his erection so as not to torture himself further while he waited.
Archer felt completely helpless to help either Nate or Silas. He wanted to do something, and he was weirdly grateful when Sam said that he could use a third party to freak out at. He was the first to arrive at the playrooms, and he went into one, leaving the door open for Sam to find him. He wasn’t sure what the Dom needed from him--talking? Something more physical? A friend, or a sub? Whatever he needed, Archer was determined not to fuck up this time. He settled onto his knees inside the door and waited as patiently as he could manage. @sammythedominant
Sebastian juggled with the tray that held the two coffee cups and two paper bags he had just picked up at the door from the delivery guy, and was now making his way down the hallway. Having near downright to no one to escort him out into town, delivery service was the next best thing to do. Dressed in dark jeans and a yellow hoodie with a white t-shirt undernerath, he knocked on Sam’s door with his foot. “Open up, Sam! Come on... You could never say no to me before-” he said with a teasing tone, then shook his head. “I come bearing gifts of good will. Open the hell up, Evans.”
