Chapter 4, Book 2 of The Dreamer
Of Dententions, Lollipops and Dreams      by      dolphininthesky

For the rest of my stories, click here /~dolphininthesky/

story code: Mf-tease,touching, ff, oral, MMf

    The slanted rays of daylight fell on her in pools of pleasant heat. Mandy Watson stretched languidly, every inch of her youthful body was taut as she arched and wriggled delightfully. Her light cotton nightie was taut against that supple body which was an alluring contradiction of nubile, feminine swells and unfledged, adolescent awkwardness. She luxuriated in the warmth of the morning sun that came in through her window. It was that ever so brief period between waking up and remembering that you had to be somewhere else at that exact moment.

'Shit,' she said, her sleepy eyes opening wide in startled realisation before the sunlight made her squeeze them shut again. She struggled upright and looked at the clock. 'Shit!' she said. 'Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,' she said, with various inflections of the tone as she scrambled out of bed, reached for the clean school uniform in her wardrobe and hurried off to use the bathroom. Cleaned, dressed and fully awake, she rushed into the kitchen ten minutes later, buttered a piece of toast, grabbed the lunch mum had made, and left with the toast in one hand and her satchel in the other. Both mum and dad usually left before light for work, leaving Mandy to get up for school on her own, something she was notoriously bad at.

Mandy flew down the street, her pleated grey skirt flaring up in the chilly morning breeze, giving her tender thighs goose pimples. As she ran towards the nearest bus stop, she attracted glances from many men - some forward and brazen, some furtively stolen. Their eyes were first drawn to her feet - shod in regulation black saddle shoes - as she clattered helter-skelter down the sidewalk. Their lingering gaze would then travel up her warm, woollen, knee-length socks, also black. Her skirt reached mid-thigh, and in between skirt and socks was an expanse of tender, bare skin. Lily-white and as smooth as fresh cream, it contrasted sharply with the black knee-length socks and grey skirt, invariably drawing the attention of every passing male and many a envious female.

As their eyes travelled further up, they rested upon her woollen pullover emblazoned with the school crest on her left breast. Beneath this, she wore a white shirt and the school tie. A satchel with her  books was carelessly slung over her shoulder. Her long, blonde locks were tied up in a simple ponytail that bobbed enticingly as she walked. But she was not walking at the moment, but rather, sprinting for the bus stop. And as she ran, her hair was not the only thing that bobbed. Topping her chest, were her fair, teenage titties. Perky and mischievous, they bounced to her every movement. They did not pendulate obscenely - they were much too tight for that. Rather, they swelled and ebbed temptingly beneath her uniform like gentle waves in a sheltered bay. Riding high on her slender thighs was her pert bum, swaying teasingly with every step.

She epitomized youthful beauty and giggly, cutesy girlishness - she looked positively virginal. Which she was. Technically anyway. But who would have guessed that this innocent teenage schoolgirl had an itch up her bum? Beneath the neatly pressed plaid skirt; beneath panties of purest white; lay a puckered, pink orifice that winked and pulsated restlessly. A different cavity round the front of her body was slightly slippery as well, but its need was a mere sleepy, background murmur compared to the throbbing need of her posterior tunnel.

It was a mere annoyance at first. Then, as it worsened, it had worried her a great deal. She didn't think it was 'normal'. She'd mentioned it to her best friend Becky, who was supposed to be pretty knowledgeable concerning these things - more so than herself anyway. She did so with much blushing and stammering, for it was so embarrassing admitting these things to your friend, even if she was your best friend. But Becky hadn't been able to understand it either. Becky's front door generally itched a lot more badly than her back door. Had Mandy been ... um... cleaning herself properly after using the toilet? Becky's question threw the poor girl into even deeper humiliation and embarrassment. Of course she had! Especially since.... since he liked to touch her and ... and do things there. He'd not been around for some time now, but she was still very careful to clean the outside as well as inside; very deep inside.

Becky consulted her older sister who was very much amused and amazed to find a girl whose bum itched more than her cunny. With some head scratching, Julie opined that perhaps Mandy's love canal had not been fully awakened to its womanly desires since he had yet to break the seal and fully rouse the senses and nerve endings in her vaginal entrance from the slumber they'd been in since birth. On the other hand, her anus which had been well and truly broken in by his manhood, and its passions, whetted and kindled, were now protesting loudly to the lengthy absence of his length. Having diagnosed her, Julie then gave the prescription for Mandy's antsy ass - a very long and thick, vibrating dildo.

Blushing profusely, Mandy had refused immediately. Julie's opinion sounded rather far-fetched. And she was not wholly ignorant of the vested interests behind the suggestion. It was not by coincidence that Julie had prescribed a double ended dildo. Whilst she didn't mind her two friends and 'co-lovers' touching her with their mouths and fingers - that was inevitable given that the three shared his bed together (and she enjoyed it a lot more than she would admit) - she drew the line at being fucked, anally or otherwise, by anyone other than her love. Only he got to put his long thingy inside her.

But he was still away, and the only contact she and the two girls had with him was via their dream links. The greater the distance, the more energy they required to mentally connect. And with him hidden somewhere deep, deep in the countryside, the energy requirements for contacting him were beyond the three girls. He had to initiate it, and even then, he had to do it whilst he was asleep, since that would allow him to concentrate and devote his mind fully to the difficult task. Their mental links  were brief and hardly fulfilling. They tended to leave Mandy itching even more badly when she woke up.

But after a month or so, he started having problems keeping in contact with them mentally. He said that with the hunters after Lisette, he'd decided that it was too slow for her to gradually build up her energy Source they way they had all done. The stage during which they were only able to manipulate energy whilst they were in that semi-conscious sleep trance was a frustrating one. They could only draw the sexual energy they required from a man who was in close proximity to them. Sleeping close to a highly aroused man was not something a girl did unless he was someone special. Someone they could trust not to ravish their bodies as they slept - or someone they didn't mind getting ravished by.

The three girls, and now Lisette, obtained their energy in this way (David swore he never touched Lisette) until they were able to get to the next stage when they could manipulate energy whilst they were fully conscious. But once they reached that level, their progress became much faster as they could draw energy from every horny male that crossed their paths during the day. Being pretty young women, they had no lack of such men. Random strangers, people passing you on the street, people you knew, friends, colleagues, even family - for a beautiful girl, energy sources seemingly grew on trees.

With the hunters after him and Lisette, David decided it was probably best to help Lisette get to this stage as quickly as possible. They did not have the luxury of time, as Mandy, Julie and Becky had. In order to accelerate Lisette's progress, he decided to channel a portion of his mental energy into her Source. This would quickly enable Lisette to reach the level of energy needed where she could siphon energy off men whilst she was awake. Her growth after that would be much faster as she could actively seek out male energy instead of relying on just him.

There is a great difference between channeling his mental energy to her and giving his sexual energy. The human body produced sexual energy at will, and in large amounts. But the body contained only a base amount of mental energy and it could not produce more. It had to be obtained by other means. The Artifact had taught David how to combine male and female sexual energies in order to do this. However, lending Lisette a helping hand in this way would mean that David would have to sacrifice significant amounts of his mental energy. As a result, he was weakened for a certain period of time. During this time, he his energy levels were insufficient to mentally contact the three girls in the city. They'd have to rely on the telephone like mere humans.

This turn of events made poor Mandy terribly restless and antsy. She wanted David. Needed him like a drug. Their dream encounters had been like a sip of water to a thirsting desert wanderer - hardly satisfying but like a drop of heaven still the same. But now, even this was gone. Her own fingers gave her little respite - diddling her clitty madly as she stuck her fingers inside her anal pussy gave Mandy only temporary relief. When she was done, the deep itch that her slender fingers were unable to scratch would return with a vengeance. Becky and Julie felt it too, but they had each other's 'comfort' to help alleviate their suffering. They didn't mind helping Mandy with her problem but Mandy felt that it just wasn't the same without her him. It had been so long. She wondered if he'd forgotten them already...



Mandy arrived at the bus stop just in time to watch it trundling down the street, belching clouds of dusty, black smoke. 'Shit!' she said. The pattering of feet behind her caused her to turn round. A similarly attired schoolgirl arrived behind her at the stop, panting breathlessly. 'Ling-Ling!' Mandy called out. Her equally tardy friend smiled at her woefully - they'd done it yet again. Ling Chen lived in the same area and missed the bus as frequently as the Mandy did. This was how they'd become best of friends - long walks to school, suffering together when the punishment was meted out and then walking back home as they missed the homebound bus.

Ling's delicate and exquisite features; her fair and perfect complexion; her beautifully almond shaped eyes that were as intelligent as they were expressive; her long, lustrous, shampoo-commercial black hair - she was quite the East Asian beauty. 'Dainty' would be the one word that summed her up. Small, petite and very delicate. Like a fragile and beautiful buttercup swaying in the wind. The sight of her evoked feelings similar those experienced when faced with small, defenceless kittens. Her fragility and timidity aroused dark passions in men, making them want to handle her roughly - fearing, yet wanting to break her pale, little body.

'Fourth time this week,' Ling said to Mandy. 'Mr. Barron is not going to be pleased,' she added, a woe-begone expression on her face. The first time that week, they'd been given detention. The second time, it had been two days of detention. The third time had been three days detention and a letter to their parents. They'd been on time yesterday - thank God. But Mr. Barron would think they were mocking him if they turned up late today. This was their worst record in all their years of school.

The two schoolgirls began running. It was better than waiting for the next bus, they knew from experience. Running, they would only be twenty minutes late, as opposed to thirty if they waited. They stopped for short breaks to gasp for air, though rarely, as fear drove them on. It took a full half-hour, running as fast as they could manage, to arrive at the school gates. Panting, their chests heaving, their faces flushed and sweaty, their hair and clothes somewhat in disarray, they presented themselves in front of Mr. Barron, teacher in charge of manning the school gates as well as their coach and gym teacher.

His face was purple. Six-foot four, with a muscled, barrel chest and the powerful limbs of a former footballer, he cut an imposing - indeed, fearful - figure as he stood with beefy, hairy arms crossed and legs apart. He stood waiting in front of the front door of the school like some fearsome guardian with flaming sword standing before the gates of the forbidden Garden. In full fury, even the slight beer gut that signaled the onset of middle age did little to diminish his dreadful appearance.

The two schoolgirls stood in front of him, wordless - partly because they were panting too much, and partly because of the waves of shock and awe that overcame them. He glowered. They cowered. There was nothing that needed to be said. No demands for explanations. And none that they dared to give. They were past all that now. The two were notorious for being tardy. But they had been late for four days this week. Four days. Four fucking days. There were only five school days in a week.

'In my office,' he growled. Turning his back he marched down the corridor with the girls following meekly behind him. Being the sports teacher, he kept his own office behind the gym instead of having a desk with the rest of the teachers in the teacher's room. As they trooped into the cluttered office, Mr. Barron closed the door and turned to face them. He towered over the two frightened fourteen year-olds. They were quietly panicking, stewing in their sweaty juices. How was he going to punish them? They'd been given detention. Their parents had already been informed. What was worse than those two?

'Amanda Watson and Ling Chen,' he rumbled, 'I think there will be little repentance on your part if I keep handing out lenient punishments.'

They looked at him, their eyes wide and terrified. Would they be suspended from school? Or worse? They'd heard of troublemakers that had been transferred to the worst schools in the city - the hellholes where kids joined gangs instead of clubs; where 'clubs' referred to hard, blunt implements; 'detention' was what happened down at the local police station; and 'eight plus one' had less to do with math and more to do with something that had slipped past the metal detectors.

'I've been lenient on you two girls, seeing that apart from a shocking, habitual tardiness, there are few other complaints about your behaviour. But late for four days in a week? I will refer this matter to Principal Lewis. Perhaps she has a better punishment to remedy your behaviour. The detentions I've been dishing out are obviously not very effective,' Mr. Barron, gym coach and guardian of the school gates, continued.

Ling's lower lip quivered and even the bolder Mandy quailed. They both knew that Principal Lewis hated their guts. In fact it was believed that she hated the guts of half the school. It was a popular rumor that Dragon Lady Lewis hated girls. Especially pretty ones. She'd make a grudging concession if you were ugly and nerdy. But in general, it was common knowledge that she punished girls more harshly than she did boys. Not that the boys were free to do as they pleased. The gym teacher, Mr.  Barron hated boys with an intensity dual to the Principal's pathological enmity with her own gender. He was especially hard on the handsome ones who seemed to be getting more than their fair share of attention from girls.

You see, Coach Barron lived a rather deprived life. Divorced for years, now single and unable to find any woman who would put up with him for long, he hadn't had sex for nearly a year. Maybe more. The problem was that he had little concept of gentleness when it came to 'bedtime'. Those who had the courage to give him a try now avoided him like the plague as the memory of his painful hugeness in their abused vagina continued to traumatise them. His immense, powerful body nearly crushed them. His roughness with their bodies and his total lack of concern for their well-being and pleasure made sex with him feel like rape. His personality hardly gave him any extra points - he was overbearing, uncouth and belittling, to say the least. He'd still been able to find women at the height of his youth and career as a sportsman. But these days, it was zilch. Bummer. 'Forget it, loser!' Nada. Nyet. It wasn't for want of trying. He 'tried', in his own brutish way. As a result, he'd been charged with rape twice, though he was never convicted. And there was that injunction taken out against him for stalking.

He did his best to keep these issues hidden, and so managed to retain his teaching job. For fear of losing his only means of income, he'd given up 'trying' at all. However, his job involved being surrounded by young, nubile female flesh that pranced around in tight gym shorts and thin, cotton shirts that stuck to their bodies when they sweated. He was like the penniless beggar salivating as he stared at the mounds of hot, glorious, steaming food through the windows of an eatery. Oh, how he lusted for the forbidden fruit. And how he hated those boys who so carelessly plucked and sampled the ripening fruit that he could never taste. He had been extra lenient to Mandy and Ling, since they were cute and pretty - if any boy came late three days in a row, he'd have suspended them from school already - but his patience with these two was wearing thin.

'Please sir,' Mandy said, swallowing nervously. 'We... we promise not to be late again. We'll take whatever punishment you decide on, sir. Just don't hand us over to Principal Lewis,' she said, her voice pleading. Ling nodded quickly in agreement, 'Please sir, we won't ever be late again. I promise.' Mr. Barron leaned back against his desk, his wrath slightly assuaged. It wasn't everyday that students called him 'sir'. They addressed him as Coach or Mr. Barron. And behind his back, they probably used less savoury names. Watching the two pretty, pleading girls made him feel good.

And damn horny. These two were the cream of the crop. In the league of prettiest girls in the whole school, they were easily in the top ten. Their cheeks shone like ripened tomatoes and sweat beaded on their brow as a result of their frantic run to school. They were still panting slightly and the swells beneath their woollen sweaters moved in exciting ways. And they were pleading with him, promising to accept whatever punishment he decided on. His mind was thinking of the possibilities. This was how the porn movies and sex stories always went, wasn't it? But he didn't dare. They were underage. And he was their teacher. The courts were rabid when it came to cases like these. They would convict him with less than half the evidence that had seen him acquitted of rape involving older women. And twice the severity of the sentence.

Mandy didn't have to read his mind to see what he wanted. He reeked of it. His arousal was signalled by the sexual energy he gave off. He gave off a lot. And that meant a lot. Mandy had a pretty good idea how much energy radiated from the average horny schoolboy given that she spent most of her time surrounded by them. But this man dwarfed them all. Shit. When was the last time he'd had sex? She looked inside his mind and saw. She also found out that he didn't masturbate in spite of that. A big surprise.

Somehow their gym teacher saw masturbation as a loser's act. It was a strange and twisted kind of pride - winners like him got pussy, losers masturbated. That may have been true twenty years ago, but with middle age approaching and a bad reputation that preceded him, sticking to his strange creed during the long, hard pussy-drought was getting increasingly difficult. As a result, his sexual drive had been churning up more and more energy, but with no means of release. It was pent up, raging, building up like a pressure cooker, but still, he refused to masturbate or even call a hooker. She saw also his hidden past - a traumatic divorce, trouble getting women, rape charges brought against him in another city though he hadn't been acquitted. She saw his frustration and confusion - he was big, strong and a man's man; why didn't any woman desire him?

The root of the problem came to Mandy like the proverbial light bulb switching on in her head. A psychiatrist would have identified some kind of sexual disorder, but that was only the symptom. Mandy's mental sight saw the cause. When one mines for gold, there are rich veins and poor veins. Likewise, some men were rich with sexual energy, some had average amounts and some were borderline eunuchs. But being rich in energy was not necessarily a good thing. Egged on by a relentless hunger for sex, some masturbated compulsively, whilst others, driven by the dark fury between their legs, became serial rapists and incurable addicts of everything from necrophilia to coprophilia to pedophilia.

In Mr. Barron's case, his natural energy richness and his reluctance to 'let off steam' by masturbating regularly caused the sexual pressure to build up inside him like the mother of all pressure cookers. When he finally got into bed with a woman, he would cast off the weight of the restraints he used to contain himself, causing his sexual libido to fire like a cocked gun as it was unleashed on the helpless female. Naturally aggressive and built like a boxing champion, when he got into a frantic, sexual frenzy, it wasn't just any sexual frenzy. Like an enraged bull or a starved lion, he gored and mauled their poor bodies as his reasoning mind was blinded with pure, white lust. Usually, he never saw them again. Twice, he saw them again in court.

The energy buildup Mandy saw in him almost made her lick her lips involuntarily. She stopped herself just in time. She wanted it. It looked so good. She knew the rush it would give her as it filled up her Source. But she was afraid. She knew that if the tall and powerfully built gym teacher wanted sex, even with her mind reading and somewhat limited powers of mental suggestion, she would be powerless to stop him from raping her. He would pummel his raging hard on into her innocence, ravaging and destroying her poor body. She would be helpless to stop the gigantic man from mauling her like he'd done with so many others.

But there was a slight difference here. She saw also that Mr. Barron did not intend to do anything to jeopardize his job. He'd been in court, been bled dry by lawyers and by the settlements he'd had to pay. He certainly didn't want to risk being put away for a very long time either. Sex with students was the riskiest thing a teacher could do. Mandy thought she saw an opportunity. If she played along with whatever punishment he had in mind, perhaps she could still have a chance at a delicious meal of male sex energy without risking being raped.

'You will agree to take whatever punishment I see fit to give you?' their coach asked. The two girls glanced at each other. Ling thought she detected something in his voice that she didn't quite like. But Mandy nodded quickly, so Ling agreed as well.

'Very well, then. Report to me after school today. I'll be giving you detention, but of the more strenuous kind. You're both going for extended gym class. Expect to be exhausted. Very exhausted,' Coach Barron said. 'Now, off to class, both of you!'

The two girls turned to go but Mandy suddenly looked back and said, 'Um... we didn't bring our gym clothes, sir. We don't have gym today.' Their gym uniform consisted of a plain white T-shirt with a little school crest on the left breast and black shorts.

Coach Barron scowled, 'You're not putting it off, Amanda. This is punishment, not a regular gym class. I'll provide the uniforms.'

As the girls fled from the room, he sat down in his big chair and sighed. He wish he could do more with them. But unfortunately, this was not a porn story. He could not, for example, blackmail them into sexual favours or give them a nice, bare-bottomed spanking, much as he wanted to (mmmm... he could imagine how their pink, tender bottoms would wobble and wiggle under his heavy hand). But, he could make them come for extra gym classes where he'd get to see their beautiful bodies bouncing and moving delightfully. He had some interesting ideas for this evening's special detention. He was going to make it very special indeed without stepping over the line.

As they left, Ling turned to Mandy and said with concern, 'You don't think Coach is going to punish us too severely, do you?'

'Don't worry, Ling-Ling,' Mandy reassured her with a giggle. "I'm sure all he wants is to see you wiggle your butt in front of him.' Ling screwed up her face in a grimace. The tall, fierce teacher frightened her. When they got to class, their teacher reprimanded them for being late. But she let them off, knowing that Mr. Barron would have caught them at the gate and punished them appropriately.

Later, when Becky had the chance to question them, they told her all about the 'special gym detention' they were getting as punishment. Becky raised and eye-brow at Mandy knowingly, 'The Force is strong with that one.' Ling took no notice, thinking it was a joke she didn't understand. But Mandy knew what Becky meant. It was their private way of talking about sexual energy. When they saw someone giving off lots of energy, they either mentioned it to each other mentally, or if they talked vocally, they talked about 'the Force'. The entire exchange was over poor Ling-Ling's head of course. To her chagrin, her two friends were talking like this a lot lately.

'So, you noticed?' Mandy said with a little smile.

'Hah! He's always trying to look down my blouse. Of course I noticed!' Becky retorted.

'And you always let him!' Mandy giggled.

Becky smiled widely, 'Always!'

Incorrigible! Mandy shook her head with a mix of despair at and admiration for her friend. Becky was so much bolder than she was. Mandy, Becky and Julie had not been slacking off even though David wasn't around to monitor their progress. Whilst Mandy quietly siphoned energy off the males around her, Becky actively drove them crazy as she teased and flirted and flaunted her body. The hard, male bodies of their classmates and school friends became charged with sexual energy as Becky deliberately bent down in front of them to retie her laces, giving them tantalizing glimpses of her thigh and panties. She knew just exactly how to send the boys into overdrive with a light touch to their arm, a toss of her pretty head, a mischievous wink or a flirtatious smile.

Wild, unpredictable and a powerful walking aphrodisiac - Becky drove every male in school into a sexual frenzy, teachers included. Schoolboys masturbated compulsively as they fantasized about her. Old teachers who were near retirement found their mojo again in a way not even Viagra or potent Chinese herbal cures could come close to doing. And Becky would harvest their raging sexual energies with glee. Mandy too benefited not a little, since the girls always hung out together. However, Mandy just couldn't bring herself to flaunt her sweet charms at men the way Becky could.

Mandy was a little more subtle. Early on, they had learned from David that 'sexual energy' wasn't called sexual for nothing. Such energy was created in the region of the loins of a person, although the entire body could generate it under certain circumstances. When the crackling sexual dynamism of the opposite gender came into contact with your body, its effects were inevitable. In general, sexual energy stayed close to the body that generated it, though with some people, its blazing tendrils might stray a little further away from their body, causing a reaction in any passerby who might unwittingly walk into it. Incidentally, this is the reason why certain men and women are deemed sexier than others.

Since the three girls had learnt to move and manipulate energy with their minds, they were able to send their tendrils of feminine fire away from their bodies and towards the target male. They would let their female energies gently run over his body, crackling and sparking as it did, causing his body to react instinctively by pumping out the corresponding male sex energy. Focusing with their minds, they would let the tendrils of girlish desire rake over his crotch - the powerhouse of sexual energy generation - sending his arousal rocketing sky high. David had, on more than one occasion been deliciously tortured by his three girls in this way. But he was not the only one. Men everywhere were tittilated and stimulated in like manner as the girls harvested their energies.

Mandy had become highly adept at this. Whilst providing visual stimuli was Becky's forte, Mandy would provide backup from the energy side of things. Working together, the young vamps easily obtained more male energy than they needed. Men were so easy to tease and excite, they found. The three pretty girls could flick their switches on and off almost at will - well, 'on' anyway; it was sometimes difficult to turn them 'off'. In comparison to David, they were living in easy street - he had to harvest his energy from females. And he was discovering just how many frigid bitches there were in society, and that even young, sexually active women needed a whole lot more stimulating than men did before they started churning out adequate amounts of energy.

The rest of the day passed by pretty much like every other day. They learnt their lessons; tickled their male classmates and teachers with tendrils of female pleasure; Becky flaunted her body as usual; and they kept their energy Source full, brimming and running over. But it was over all too soon. 'Well, good luck with your detention. The Force be with you! And with you too, Ling-Ling,' Becky said laughingly in parting as school ended for the day.

As the bell rang, the students stampeded out of class like a horde of Guantanamo detainees on a presidential pardon. Mandy and Ling however, walked nervously to the gymnasium. Timid Ling-Ling's heart was beating faster than usual and her palms felt all sweaty and clammy. Even Mandy's confidence was somewhat eroded. As they pushed open the door and entered the large gym they heard a deep, powerful voice, dripping with sarcasm, boom, 'Welcome...'

Ling-Ling couldn't help wincing as she silently added to herself, '... to my parlour, said the spider to the fly.'
***


Lisette was enjoying herself very much. They had already been here for many, many, many days. She had lost count of how many. When she asked David, he said, they'd been here for two months. David also said that maybe, they would soon be going back to the city. He thought the bad men and women who were after them would have forgotten about them already. That made Lisette sad. She wanted to stay with Beth and Anne and Aunt Fiona. Aunt Fiona had liked her calling her Aunt very much. But if they went back, she would see Mandy again. Lisette liked that. She remembered Mandy. Mandy bathed her and had been nice to her last time. And she could tell that David missed Mandy too, as well as two other girls called Julie and Becky, though Lisette had not met them yet.

Lisette was making some progress with her lessons as well. Every night, she would slip off to his bedroom for a quick lesson. She still couldn't do very much with her mental energy, but David said she was making good progress because now she could manipulate energy without needing to be asleep. That made her happy. It meant that now she could collect energy from other people during the day, not just when she saw David at night. David said that he had given her a portion of his own mental energy so that she could quickly reach this state and collect energy from other people herself. She was very thankful to David for this because the amount she usually collected during her sessions with David were not a lot. This was because David always ended the session just as they were getting into the heat of things. She didn't know why. He was always flustered and flushed as he shooed her from his room. She wished he'd let her stay the whole night. She liked lying next to him.

Because her energy levels were much higher now, her skills and abilities increased as well. David taught her how to control animals and how to heal a wound with her mind. But he didn't tell her how to go inside people's minds and he forbid her from trying to do so until he felt she was ready. These were not all that David taught her, of course. During the day, whilst the twins went off to school, David would see to it that he home-schooled Lisette in math, language, science and other things. He told her he didn't want her to remain an ig-nore-rah-mus forever.

When she wasn't learning her lessons with David, she would wander the farm, sometimes accompanied by David, and at other times, alone, playing with animals and busy gathering energy to feed her Source. And to her delight, she found lots and lots and lots of it. The nice men Aunt Fiona hired to work the farm always made sure of that. Sometimes they didn't have any of those bluish tendrils David told her were called 'male sexual energy tendrils' - whatever those big words meant. But the moment she walked up to them and smiled, they always produced some for her. They were such very nice men.

A big man on the farm even taught her how to ride a horse. Not that she needed much teaching. The horses were good horses - they did whatever she wanted. David had thought her how to slip into their horsey minds and command them as she pleased.  She enjoyed riding the big, powerful horses. The nice horse man told her they were called stallions. Their horsey minds were quite weird sometimes. The stallions sometimes wanted to do funny things to the gentler, smaller mares. And the mares wanted to sniff and nuzzle the big stallions. Prowling around their minds at those times always made Lisette feel all funny between her legs afterwards.

She also liked the horse man - Bill, he was called. He was tall and big and reminded her of the animals. He smelt the same as the horses, anyway. But what she liked best about Bill was how he always rewarded her with a burst of blue energy tendrils when he helped her get up or down the tall animals' back. She knew and watched for the exact moment the blue mass of energies would come flying out from the region of his crotch  - it happened when he grabbed her slender waist with his big, strong hands and hoisted her up the horse's back, or when he helped her down in a similar way.

She made several big discoveries. Eating a lollipop whilst she wandered the farm visiting the nice men got her much, much more energy than usual. She could not see how the two were lo-gi-cal-ly connected (when David taught her math and science, he put a lot of emphasis on what he called logic), but she knew it worked. And it worked everytime. Maybe there really was such a thing as magic (though David had told her there wasn't such a thing when she'd asked him about it after they watched Harry Potter on DVD). Besides the lollipop, other magical items were bananas, halter tops and miniskirts. But since the weather was getting cold, she had to make do with just lollipops and bananas.

She liked gathering energy very much - the closest word that could describe the feeling when she consumed it was perhaps yummy. She was glad, there were so many nice men around the farm who were happy to feed her their 'yummy' male energies. David liked to accompany her on her walks around the farm. He said it was because some of the men were looking at her 'funny'. She didn't know what he meant. She liked the way they looked at her. They always paid her a lot of attention. And they were all nice to her. They all gave her yummy energy - except for one boy. But David said that was because he was 'gay'. That boy only gave out blue energy when he saw David. Somehow, David wasn't as pleased as she thought he would be. Probably that was because David had no use for blue energy, only pink ones, like the ones coming from Beth and Anne and Aunt Fiona and some of the girls who worked on the farm. She could tell David liked gathering energy as much as she did. He was often flirting with the milkmaids. And sometimes he went into a room with Aunt Fiona and they produced lots and lots of energy.

Lisette also enjoyed herself very much at night. Almost every night, Beth would make sure she was washed very, very clean. Beth told her that it was important be careful with the hy-ge-een of her vah-gi-na and she made sure she cleaned Lisette very, very thoroughly with little cotton applicators. Later in the night, was Lisette's favourite time - playtime! Beth told her that she was a very important friend - she was Beth's mas-tuh-bay-tion buddy. Beth liked to lick and lick and lick her until she felt sooo good. Lisette remembered Mandy had liked her licking very much when they had first met. Now she knew why.

Beth also showed her where a girl's 'happy button' was. When Beth pressed her 'happy button', Lisette became a very, very happy girl indeed. After that, Lisette would help Beth press her happy button. Sometimes, Lisette would lick Beth as well. That made Beth very happy, and so Lisette was happy too. Their big teddy, Bearbear also saw a lot of use. Lisette loved the feel of his soft fur on her bare skin. Most nights, Bearbear's rubbery snout was shiny and drippy with the juices of more than one girl by the time the girls fell asleep.

Anne often joined them during their nightly 'playtime', but sometimes she didn't. She said every night was way too much. She said that she wanted to sleep and told them to do it quietly. She called Beth a 'friggin' nympho' but Lisette didn't know what it meant. Since Anne was laughing when she said it, Lisette thought it must be something nice.

She found out the next morning that Aunt Fiona clearly didn't think so. Anne nearly choked on her breakfast cereal too, and Beth'd kicked her lightly beneath the table. Lisette thought she probably shouldn't say it again. Except to Beth. Beth said she liked Lisette calling her that when they were alone. Beth taught her all kinds of names to call her. Like 'carpet muncher' and 'sweet little bitch' and 'horny slut'. Neither David nor Anne would tell her what they meant, and Lisette thought it was not a good idea to ask Aunt Fiona after last time.

All in all, she was a very happy girl. The world was all lollipops and teddy bears.

Until the dreams started.


***


The two schoolgirls stepped into the large, empty gymnasium. Their footfalls echoed back. They looked pretty smart in their white shirts, navy-blue pullovers and pleated, grey skirts. But those clothes were in no way appropriate for a gym class. It may have been detention, and not a real P.E. session at all, but when one was in the gym, one ought to be sensibly attired. The tall and muscled forty year-old teacher clearly thought so too. He was wearing a simple T-shirt and shorts. And a whistle hung from his neck, the universal badge that said Gym Teacher. As they approached him, he handed them some spare gym clothes that he'd scrounged up for them.

The diminutive Asian girl regarded with dismay what the coach had handed her. It was the regulation white T-shirt and shorts - two sizes too large. And as for the slightly taller blonde girl, the coach told her he couldn't find anything even remotely her size. Only a sleeveless leotard that belonged to one of the girls on the school's gymnastics team was available. She was about to protest when their powerfully built teacher scowled at her with such ferocity that she swallowed her complaints.

They returned from the locker room after several minutes, having changed into the clothes that had been provided. Ling-Ling had tucked her oversized T-shirt into her large, baggy shorts. She kept pulling those shorts higher, fearing that they would slip lower and lower until her little pantied privates were bared for all to see. Mandy was feeling even more self-conscious. If Ling-Ling had gotten a gym uniform that was two sizes too large, her leotard, she discovered, was two sizes too small. It fit her like a second skin. No, it was so tight it felt like it was trying to get under her skin. Even with the stretchable material, she'd had a really difficult time getting in. She'd almost feared that she would rip the damn thing. And she couldn't even wear her bra underneath - the horrid thing so tight and uncomfortable around her chest she could feel the straps bite into her skin. She knew the coach could probably see the erect nubbins poking out of her chest, as well as every single contour of her body. Heck, he could probably count her ribs through the fabric. But at least she'd kept her panties on. Nothing could induce her to part with those. Without them, the leotard would absolutely outline every part of her cunny.

Mr. Barron sent them off to run twenty laps around the huge gymnasium. As part of their P.E. education, the two girls had done elementary gymnastics, track and field athletics, swimming, team sports, climbing ropes and such. But, truth be told, they both sucked. Mandy only liked swimming and running whilst Ling did the bare minimum and hoped to pass with fingers crossed. In a large class, their under-performance hardly got much attention from their coach except some verbal prodding. But today, they had his undivided attention. When they had completed the run, they were already sweating hard and out of breath. But it was merely the warm-up; their troubles had just started and there was so much more to come.

The first order of the day was to do a handstand. Not too bad, Mandy thought. She could handle that at least. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the ground, lifted her legs, kicked out and let her body pivot round so that her weight rested wholly on her arms. On a scale of one to ten, Mandy probably ranked six in terms of athletic ability. But poor Ling-Ling was a definite one. The thin and fragile girl struggled to get into a handstand. She nearly fell. Mr. Barron's strong arms caught her legs and lifted them, helping her into position.

Mandy was sure glad she got the leotard. Ling's oversized T-shirt was tucked into her shorts, so those weren't a problem at the moment. But her huge shorts were so loose that they slid down over her thigh, revealing more skin than was appropriate. Coach Barron was standing beside Ling, his hands gripping her legs, helping the fearful girl keep upright on her hands till she found her balance. Mandy was pretty sure the horny pervert was getting a much better view than she did.

He was. Mr. Barron could not believe what he was seeing. He feasted his eyes on the snug pantied crotch that presented itself to his view through the baggy leg-holes of the oversized shorts he'd given Ling Chen. What was more, she was sweating from the twenty laps she'd done and a damp patch was beginning to form on her panties. Her legs were completely smooth and hairless, devoid of even the lightest covering of fuzz. As his fingers lightly gripped and ran over Ling's legs on the pretext of helping her keep balance, the poor girl shivered. Her scarlet face was not due merely to the earlier exertion or even the rush of blood to her head as she stood on her hands. She was extremely embarrassed because she knew the Coach was seeing more than any male had ever seen - and he was relishing it. The evidence of his enjoyment looked her in the face. With her body upside down, she was looking upwards between Coach Barron's muscular legs. A distinct bulge in the crotch of his white shorts was visible.

'Uh.... can we get down now?' Mandy said, interrupting Mr. Barron's enjoyment. She was beginning to tire after three minutes of the handstand.

'What??' he asked with feigned shock. 'You're tired already? No, no... you have to remain in this position for a little longer. And keep your legs together!' he said sternly as he walked over to Mandy. Much as he would have liked to continue watching the cute little Asian wriggling upside down helplessly, he found that he couldn't keep his eyes - and hands - off the blonde teen.

'Legs together! Legs together! Are you trying to show me your crotch?' he barked, humiliating her further. Mandy felt his large hands grip her bare thighs, pushing them together. She felt them squeeze her flesh for a very brief moment before letting go. She felt his eyes raking over her, punching holes into the fabric of that darn leotard. Her crotch was open to his inspection and she thanked her lucky stars she had decided to keep the panties even though the extra layer of cloth made things hideously tight and uncomfortable. Her crotch was all itchy and wet with sweat. And her arms were aching from taking the full weight of her five foot figure.

The blonde girl had a nicer body, Mr. Barron thought. The Asian was a little too skinny and coltish, her tiny stature making her seem younger than her fourteen years of age. Amanda Watson on the other hand, was filling out nicely around her breasts, hips and bum. But Coach Barron was disappointed. He could see the outline of her panties underneath the leotard, obstructing from view the more interesting parts of her female figure. It was some consolation that he could see her teenie nipples stick out like little erasers. He'd give anything to squeeze them. Aha.... he had a sudden brainwave. There would be a little change of plans.

'Now the next thing we'll try is the Bridge.' He said it casually, as he though it was as simple as taking a walk.

What bridge?? Mandy had been keeping tabs on his mind. She knew she needed to stay one step ahead of him all the time. She'd expected the twenty laps. She'd seen the handstand coming. But what bridge was he talking about? Her mind shot out, delving into his to take a closer look. Oh dear.

She had not counted on him suddenly taking a detour from his well-made plans. She didn't mind the plans. She'd probed his mind several times throughout the day. She knew what he had in mind. In fact, by dropping some mental suggestions here and there, she'd managed to steer his thoughts away from the stuff that really freaked her out and toward things that she didn't really mind. Well, she did mind. But they were small and insignificant sacrifices, like letting him see and feel her up a bit. It wasn't as though she hadn't been 'brushed against' many times in a bus or subway. From what the eyes of her mind had seen so far, she knew that it was going to be all worth the while - she was in for a veritable energy feast.

But the Bridge?? Mandy wasn't very happy, to say the least. Bending backwards whilst doing a handstand until her toes touched the floor - that sounded a little beyond the elasticity limits of her  teenage body. And as for Ling-Ling - she whimpered in fright. Ling knew for a fact that she couldn't do a bridge. Her spine would probably snap before she achieved it.

'You can get back up, Ling', Coach said. 'Come here and watch Amanda try it first.' Mandy groaned whilst Ling got back on her feet with a sigh of relief. Her arms felt like jelly and her hands trembled slightly. With unsteady legs, she tottered over to where Mandy was still standing - on her hands, that is.

'Um... Mr. Barron, I'm not sure I can do this...' Mandy started to say.

'Did I ask you, Amanda? This is punishment for being late, I remind you,' he said sternly, cutting her off. Even as he spoke, Mandy felt a strong hand rest on her belly whilst another one went round to support her back. 'Now just let your legs and lower body fall backward slooowwly...' he instructed. His hand exerted a small but insistent pressure on her belly, urging her on.

'No, no... I can't,' Mandy said. She didn't want to do this anymore. She desperately wanted to stop. Her mind reached out for his. She could plant a doubt in his mind... Maybe she really, really couldn't do it, Coach Barron started to think. Maybe, she was a bit old to start doing these sort of extreme stretches all of a sudden. It would be really bad if she got hurt. Maybe I should just let them go... These thoughts started to creep into Coach Barron's mind.

If Mandy had been given enough time, she might have succeeded. But his mental constitution was not the wavering sort. When he decided on something, his decision had the inertia of shifting continents. No one - not even himself - could convince him to change his mind easily. Eventually, Mandy might have moved him to have second thoughts. Given enough time, she might have manipulated him to compromise and move on to some less strenuous exercise.

But time was what she did not have.

'Eeeep!!'

She let out a faint, terrified squeak. All thoughts of manipulating Mr. Barron's mind fled hers. She was conscious of only one thing - her legs were tilting backwards due to a gentle nudge he'd given her. Her body, strained, stressed and weary from the handstand was unable to pull herself back upright. Like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, sheer gravity was her undoing. Slowly, but inevitably, her legs toppled backwards. Every muscle and fibre strained to keep herself from crumpling into a heap, to keep her arms from buckling, to hold her body in position. If she crumpled right at that moment - with her body bent like that - she would snap like a matchstick. She sweated copiously from exertion and a black, dense feeling weighed down heavily in the pit of her stomach. It was the feeling of purest, distillated terror.

She would have collapsed. But the strong hands that encircled her waist, her rump, her thighs, slowly and gently guided her body in its descent until she completed it - the Bridge. Her palms were still flat on the ground; her trembling, aching, cramping arms formed the first pillar of the bridge; her waist and her back were arched to their sheer limits, and her thighs, calves and feet formed the other supporting pillar. Her chest and belly were thrust upwards toward the ceiling, making her feel very, very vulnerable. The tension in every muscle, in every tendon, in every ligament matched that of very taut bowstrings. She would have twanged if you plucked her.

Coach Barron thought he smelt not just sweat, but fear. Mandy's mind was a mess. She'd forgotten she ever possessed any mental skills. Her mind was preoccupied with only one thing - the imminent collapse of her spine if she slipped up. It was completely understandable - possible lifelong vegetation does have a tendency to immobilize one's thoughts. She could feel every drop of sweat running down her body. Her breasts jutted outwards attractively as her lungs expanded and contracted sucking in great gulps of air. Her skin felt hypersensitive and her eardrums hammered from the blood that was filling her upside down head.

As all this was happening to her friend, Ling watched in shock. Mandy had done it. She couldn't believe her friend's body had such a capacity to bend. Oh shit. She was next. Oh shit, she was next. Oh shit, she was next. Oh shit, she was next. Oh shit, she was next..... ad infinitum; the knell of doom ringing a thousand echoes of despair in her little head.

Mandy's throat tightened and emitted a strangled, high pitched whine as she felt Coach Barron's hands leave her waist and back. He was taking her only support away. She was going to die now.
'Oh, don't worry. Keep your elbows straight. Just relax. Your hands and feet are supporting you now. Just stay calm and don't move,' he said in a rather offhanded tone.

She gasped in shock as she felt his hands running over her rump, her torso and to her maturing breasts. He tweaked her by now, sharp and flinty nipples - fear had hardened them into little pink bullets. The sensation arced across her whole body like an electrical jolt. She swallowed air by the lungfuls, almost hyperventilating. In an adrenalin high, her senses amplified every touch and every sound. Her body vibrated in a powerful shudder.

'Don't move!' he warned. 'Let me massage your abdominal and pectoral muscles a little. It'll make it easier to get back up afterwards,' he added, the corner of his lips twitching upwards almost imperceptibly. He said it with such nonchalance that for the briefest of moments, Mandy almost believed him.

His body blocked his hands from Ling's view as he groped Mandy's breast buds. In her current position, she was as helpless and exposed as a torture victim who'd been tied to a rack and stretched. The human bridge trembled as he openly molested her - oh sorry, massaged her chest muscles. Her back was arched and her breasts thrust upwards as though she were presenting them to his perverted grip. The leotard was so thin, to all purposes and intents, it was non-existent. He could see everything, feel everything. There was not an inch of her torso that he did not molest.

'Let... let me back up.... ahhhh.... no, no... let..let...' The words came up in choked sobs. A tear ran down her face - partly it was from the pressure and strain her tortured back felt. But mostly, it was due to the dreadful realisation that her panties were wet. She hadn't done it in weeks. And everyday, an occasional itch in her virgin cunny and a much more insistent itch deep inside her not-so-virgin anus tickled and irritated her. This was not the time. This was not the place. And this was certainly not the person who should be making her feel like this - desperately horrrnyy.

He was probably giving off sexual energy by the bucketfuls. If he was, Mandy couldn't be arsed. She was concentrating on suppressing the feelings that his roughly massaging hands were causing. She knew that if she gave in, she would cum there and then. The humiliation would be terrible. But she probably wouldn't have to face it. No, she wouldn't be around to face it. Climaxing whilst she was stretched out like this could lead to only one thing.... That one thing was best summed up in an idiotic song that had chosen the worst moment to manifest in her mind and repeat itself endlessly:

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down
London Bridge is falling down, my fair Lady

Visions of her back or her neck snapping like a dry twig floated around in her mind. She could see the headlines already: Schoolgirl Breaks Neck in Gory Gym Accident. Teacher Charged with Brutal Murder. She had to keep still. Her life depended on. Perfectly motionless.

But his hot hands continued to palm her teenie flesh. The song had now switched to something else... something more contemporary:

How come everytime you come around
My London, London bridge wanna go down...

His hands moved in circular, squeezing motions - it was pleasurable agony.His hands moved round and round, to the beat of the medley in her head, freely roaming every inch of her flesh. An eternity seemed to pass. Two eternities. Three. She was counting them as they each jumped over the wall in an endless procession before her. Then she realised she was counting the spiralling, spinning dots of light that clouded her vision.

'Try to cooperate won't you? Anyone would think you want to stay that way forever,' she heard his deep voice mock. She felt his hands lifting her, helping her body unbend itself. Every last fibre in her body struggled to push herself back into a handstand again. But his hands did most of the work, lifting her legs back up. And finally, she realised that she was back on her feet, standing up the right way. Or nearly standing anyway. The effect of being upright again so suddenly made her go dizzy. She stumbled and leaned into his muscled chest; the last place on earth that she wanted to be.

A look of agony flashed across her face. 'Ahhhhhhh!!!' She gave a high-pitched scream. 'My leg, my leg!' She collapsed completely; only his powerful arms kept her from hitting the ground.

'What's wrong with your leg?' Coach Barron asked.

'Crraammp...' she hissed, her eyes blurring with tears. The cramp extended up her calves to her thigh, and from her thigh to her abdominal muscles. In fact, her whole body felt like one monolithic cramp. Whatever was not blazing in pain was completely numb and without feeling. With ferocity, pins and needles ambushed her. Her head spun. Her ears rang. Every part of her body protested in violent demonstrations. Negotiations with her anatomy failed. Strike action was initiated. And so, she blacked out.

Coach Barron scooped her body up easily. 'What's the time now, Ling?' he asked. Shocked and stunned, she stuttered in reply. He sighed, 'Ah well, your friend needs some medical care with the cramps. Nothing a massage won't take care of. But I'm afraid we won't be able to go through with the rest of the detention today... You run along home now, I'll see to Amanda.'

Ling fled without a word. Her mind was numb with shock and addled with terror. She thought how close she'd come to doing the Bridge and shuddered. To her credit, it occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't leave Mandy alone with Coach Barron. But that came to mind only after she was on the bus halfway home.


***


    The little girl was in a courtyard. It was a little one, one of the many minor courtyards in the large chateau she called home. The flagstones were large, rough and uneven beneath her dainty feet. Flowering bushes scented the air. She stepped out from under the ancient stone arches of the covered corridors that ringed the courtyard and into the caress of the morning sun. She wore a very pretty dress; the rich brocade glittered gold and silver in the sunlight. But she hardly noticed it. All her dresses were like this. Decadently exquisite, and perhaps a century or two out of date - in keeping with Father's tastes.

As she walked towards a group of men standing in the north corner of the courtyard, she could hear their animated conversation and laughter. Her little steps took her up to the group but they were too preoccupied to notice her arrival.  They stood around someone or something, but she could not see clearly as the men towered over her four foot stature. She squatted and looked between their legs instead.

A girl, sixteen or seventeen years of age, knelt in the middle of the ring of men. There were five of them and their trousers were undone. Orange tubes hung from out obscenely. Some wrinkly. Some smooth. Some long. Some not so. The girl's mouth sucked on the tubes, tears streaming from her eyes. Her hand snaked between her legs, rubbing furiously. The tubes pulsed and writhed in her mouth, choking the sobs that were caught in her throat.

The little girl stood up again. This was a common sight that she was not unused to. Father would not be happy with them if he knew about this. She cleared her throat loudly. Several men looked her way and someone hissed at the others, 'The little Miss is here!' The group of men frantically struggled with their trousers, tucking their tubes back inside. The seventeen year old girl in their midst, at once released from the streams of lust that had been pouring into her mind, snatched her hand away from her own privates in horror. She curled up on the large, cool flagstones, her sobs faint but unceasing.

The little girl who had interrupted them was only nine. Her hair reached to her waist in a cascade of brilliant silver. Hers was a face that could shift from angelic innocence to elfin mischievousness in a split second. And the gap toothed smile that lit up her pretty face as she regarded the five men, put them ill at ease. Her age belied her status. And her power. The sole daughter of Lord Silfer, the Master of House Silfer, she was elevated high above all other vampyrie - even the Apprentices the Master kept. And she held more influence with her Father than any of the Apprentices. Minor vassal vampyrie like themselves were not fit to clean the boots of the powerful Apprentices. As for the young Miss herself, they feared they were too lowly to even lick her shiny, black saddle shoes.

The little girl's smile held ridicule. 'Why are you hiding them? Weren't you showing your little 'things' to the girl just now? Bring them out, now!'

The men gawked. But they did not dare disobey. In the world of the vampyrie, there were the powerful, aristocratic Houses and then, there were vampyrie like them. Hounded by the hunters, preyed on by more powerful vampyrie, they had little choice but to offer their lives and their allegiance to the Houses. Deep inside, they resented the unfairness of the world. Were they not all vampyrie? Were they not infinitely superior to mere mortal men? Yet, some vampyrie possessed the deep secrets of energy, and they hoarded these and used them to trample on their fellow vampyrie. Wretched vassals like themselves continued living only at the whim of the aristocrats. There was naught that they could do about it, for such was the order of the world. The strong devoured the weak.

Even among the aristocrats, there was a fixed pecking order. The five great Houses ruled the lesser houses. The great Five jostled each other for power whilst the lesser houses competed secretly and overtly among themselves for dominance over each other. House Silfer was numbered among the Five, and Lord Silfer, said to be one of the most powerful vampyrie alive, had caused his House to rise to the top during his five hundred year reign as Master of the House. He kept eight Apprentices, each powerful and skilled in the energy arts, and under his command were hundreds of vassal vampyrrs. As for the mortal slaves, prisoners and other cattle in his domain, they were beyond number.

In his old age, he had borne a daughter, and she was his heir. It was vampyrric custom to produce an heir only when the Master of the House was approaching the last hundred years of his life - the most powerful vampyrie could live six to seven hundred years. Given such long lives, heirs born early in their reign would invariably have to wait a good many years before coming into their inheritance. The impatient among them might even be tempted to hasten such an event. Thus, the custom.

These things were not lost on the little one, young as she was, and she was a veritable terror to all the lesser vassal vampyrie that roamed the halls of her Father's domain. For who dared offend the future heir? Backing her was the Master and his fearsome Apprentices. With trembling hands, the group of five vassal vampyrie pulled their tubes out. It was shameful to be exposed to a wee vampyrr girl like her, but they knew better than to disobey. Their tubes were shrunken, tiny and wrinkled from fear. The little girl giggled. The tubes of men held no fear or mystery to her. She'd seen many, and she knew what they were for. She also knew men screamed bloody murder when she yanked them.

It was inevitable that the vampyrie used the women slaves, and sometimes men, for sexual purposes - after all, power corrupts and we all know what absolute power does. And the vampyrie had what could only be called absolute power over their mortal prisoners. The prisoners were usually kidnapped, bought or even received as gifts. They were kept as energy sources - their status was similar to the herds and livestock of the field who likewise, supplied the vampyrie with nourishment. And occasionally, the mortal men and women slaves were entertainment as well.

Her Father frowned on the sexual games that the vassals and Apprentices played with the wretched mortals, not because he had any regard or pity for the prisoners, but because his daughter kept coming across these as she roamed the Silfer estate. She was merely nine, mind you. And if you took into account the lifespan of a vampyrie, nine was even littler to a vampyrr than to the short-lived, mortal human. In his opinion, she ought to be at least fifty to be seeing such things.

But in spite of his efforts, it was difficult to stamp out the old habits that his underlings had acquired over the centuries. And powerful though he was, he was not omniscient. The human slaves were still used in whatever way their vampyrie masters desired, though perhaps not as openly as before. Now, they at least did it in private chambers or in what they thought was some sufficiently deserted part of the large chateau and its associated lands. But what escaped the eyes of the busy Master did not escape the roving, beady eyes of his idle little girl. Roaming the halls and grounds of the estate, she sometimes knew more about the going ons at House Silfer than the Master of the House himself did.

As she viewed the array of vampyrric penises before her with evident amusement and pondered how she might make sport of the trembling men, a large hand suddenly clapped itself on her shoulder, startling her. A voice said, 'Young Miss, I will see to it that they are punished for such blatant and shameless disobedience to our Master's wishes.'

'Oh! It's you, Lucier,' the little girl said. 'Don't sneak up on me like that!'

'My apologies, young Miss,' said the figure that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere beside her. He wore a simple brown robe that was almost monkish in its austerity. His appearance was that of a man in his thirties, but as with all vampyrie, who could tell how old he really was? Above his hard, flinty face, his bald head caught the light and glinted. Though she was barely four feet, the newcomer was merely a head taller than she was. Nevertheless, there was something menacing about him. Not that the little girl noticed. He was Lucier, Father's first and oldest apprentice, and unarguably the second most powerful vampyrr in the House. She had nothing to fear from him. But the line of petrified vassal vampyrie before them had. They had a lot to fear. The Master wished for his daughter and heir to be free to roam the estate without chancing upon sexual orgies. Not only had she caught them in the middle of one, but Lucier, the First Apprentice had caught them seemingly exposing their wretched genitalia so blatantly to the young Miss.

There never was such a terrified huddle of involuntary flashers either before or after that day. As Lucier stepped forward, one of them started to plead for his life, 'Please Lord Lucier! Have mercy! Have mercy!' As one, the line of vassal vampyrie dropped to the ground. They crouched like dogs at the feet of their master, grovelling pitifully. The young Miss would have merely humiliated them and had her fun at their expense. But Lucier was cold and merciless. They knew their piteous pleas would fall on deaf ears. But they had no alternative. Any resistance against him would be a joke. They could only beg. And grovel. And hope. Hope that pigs could fly.

Invariably, they couldn't.

Lucier stretched out his arm. A thin hand extended from beneath his robe, his fingers long and tapered. The five vampyrie could feel their bodies weaken almost immediately. Several of them panicked and attempted to fight back. Their minds clawed at the energy that was leaking away rapidly from their bodies. But it was in vain. Like iron drawn to a magnet of intense strength, their energy flowed outwards in an unstoppable tide.

Their faces seemed to age before the little girl's eyes. Their cheeks hollowed out and their eyes were wide and bulging in horror as they felt their organs fail one after the other. The girl's own acute senses watched as their the multi-coloured, teeming energy fibres swarmed away from their bodies and streamed as one towards the First Apprentice's raised hand, where they disappeared into his body. The five vampyrie's attempts at pulling the energy back were pitiful - they clutched at it like drowning men clutching at straws. The inexorable exodus of every last fibre of energy caused them to fall limply to the ground as weakness and exhaustion took over. The multitude of energies that powered their organs, that kept their heart beating, that regulated their biological systems and the very mental energy that gave light to the minds of men and vampyrie alike - they were drained of every last drop of it.

When the last lifeless corpse stopped twitching, the little girl looked down at the ornate, antique watch that she had taken out for this purpose. 'Two minutes fifty seconds! You're getting old, Lucier!' The little girl said as she shook her head sagely the way Father did. She put the watch back in her pocket, chain and all and a little giggle escaped her. She thought she did a good impression.

'As you say, young Miss,' the First Apprentice said deferentially. She wrinkled her nose at him. He was no fun. But he was good. Father would probably have taken half a minute at best to do the same thing. And she? Their bodies could probably generate and replenish itself with fresh energy faster than she could drain it, if she tried. She stuck out her tongue, turned her back and started to skip off down the corridor. Oh wait...

She stopped and turned to look at the teenage girl lying there on the pavement, her face a mask of shock and terror as she saw another of those horrible creatures that had kidnapped her kill her five former tormentors without even touching them. She would have cried but she'd run out of tears some time ago. Now, there was only despair and numb horror.

The little girl walked up to the girl and said, 'You! Come with me!' The teenage girl knew better than to disobey. Young or old, male or female, the nonhuman things that had captured and abused her for the past month all had strange powers that she could neither fathom nor resist. She got onto her feet and followed the little girl who had already skipped off in another direction. The girl did not even turn to see if the teenager was following, so confident was she that she would be obeyed without question.



***


Lisette Silfer woke up with her heart racing, a nameless terror gripping her throat. Her mind reached David even as her body was still stumbling out of bed and into the corridor outside. She ran down the corridor, the timbers thumping and creaking loudly underfoot, waking the whole house. She burst into his room and was in bed with her arms around him even as he groggily fumbled for the light switch. He'd been awakened by a mental call - a wail of confusion and fear.

As the lights clicked on, he saw Fiona at the doorway and a sleepy-eyed pair of twins peering in from behind their mom. They were looking with amusement at the pair in bed - Lisette's four limbs were wrapped around a rather confused looking David - like a koala clinging to the tree trunk.

'Ah, just a nightmare... I think,' he said uncertainly to his sister and nieces. That seemed to be what he gathered from the rapid stream of mental pictures he was getting from her. When she was excited, or frightened, she didn't like to communicate with him verbally. In fact, their mental communications didn't even involve words. She just opened her mind to him - it was a jumble of images, scenes and feelings. Right now, he was getting snatches of her dream.

Fiona nodded and yawned sleepily, saying, 'She seems to feel safest with you around. You keep her company tonight.' She closed the door behind her and shooed the twins back to bed. Lisette hugged David tightly, burying her face in his chest. His presence reassured her. He was like an anchor of stability that kept her from being swept away by the storm of questions. Who was Lucier? Who was her father? Most of all, who was she?