Pagan Spirits: "Number Nine, The Potteresque," Pt. 3

Raven had Loki escort Persephone and Theodora upstairs. Loki stopped outside a bright red swinging door. “What’s in there?” Persephone asked.

“The locker room,” he said. “You can lock up your valuables, shower, and change into a costume, if your fantasy involves a costume. Which one did you pick again?”

“Number Seven.”

“Seven . . . that’s Raven’s favorite. The ancient Greek pirate ship. You can wear a pirate costume, if you like. The seat of the wooden bench lifts up and the costumes are inside. But for that one, I think you look fine the way you are.”

“Thank you,” Persephone giggled. “Where do I go when I’m done freshening up?”

“At the end of the showers there’s another door. It will take you to a hallway, and you look for your fantasy number on the door. Knock on the door with the seven on it. Your guy will be expecting you.”

“Thanks again.” She handed Loki another tip and disappeared behind the red door. Persephone noticed a long mirror. She checked her makeup, but didn’t feel like she needed a shower until afterwards. "Theo?" she said.

"Yeah, Seph?"

"How do you think Jack will feel when I tell him I've been with another man? Jack isn’t human, but he still has feelings. He'll be jealous."

"Why should he be? Right now, he's probably got his fangs in some highly suggestable virgin's neck. If she's really impressed with the way he sucks, he'll have his cock in her pussy before the sun rises."

"He does get horny when he feeds," Persephone admitted.

"So get yours, girl! Jack will understand. Either that, or you won't tell him."

"Thanks, Theo." Persephone put on a fresh coat of lipstick and went off down the hallway until she found the number seven.

Theodora took off her clothes and showered. She put on the costume Loki picked out for her. It was a cute little thing, a blue schoolgirl’s uniform, complete with Mary Jane shoes. She looked at herself in the mirror and laughed. She could pass as a French schoolgirl, she was sure she could. She tried out the prop that came with the costume, too, swishing and flicking her wand and watching the effect in the mirror. Then Theodora went through the far door, into the hallway, and looked for the number nine.

She found herself within the stone walls of a castle. There was a great fire roaring in the fireplace, and around it, four stout armchairs. Outside the window, the sky was cloudless and lit by a shimmering silver moon. She stepped inside and was suddenly aware of a young man sitting in one of the armchairs, watching the fire. In one hand he held what appeared to be a cherry lollipop.

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“Fleur Delacour,” the young man said with a heavy Bulgarian accent.

“Bon soir, Viktor,” she answered in her best French accent. “Is this something you do often, sitting alone staring into the fireplace?”

To her surprise, the sulky Bulgarian smiled at her. “No, not often. Only when I have much to think about.” She came and sat on the arm of his chair. Their eyes locked. The boy had beautiful brown eyes, and the little bit of brown stubble on his chin was incredibly sexy.

“Are you worried about the tournament, Viktor?’

He shrugged. “I’d be foolish if I weren’t a little worried. But that’s not what I’m thinking about.”

“Let me guess,” said Theodora. “You’re thinking about little miss perfect.” She leaned in closer, so close that their noses were almost touching. “Well, let me tell you something about her you might not realize. She may be smart, and she may be pretty, but she’s in the same year as the little boy Harry Potter. She’s a baby, Viktor.” She closed her eyes and waited. The wait seemed eternal. She had almost given up and opened her eyes when she felt his lips against hers. The kiss was brief.

Afterward, she licked her lips and finished her thought. “I am a woman.”

“Yes you are,” he said, leaning in to kiss her some more. Only then did she notice the unusual flavor on his lips. She sniffed at the lollipop. Rather than cherry or strawberry, it smelled like human blood.

"A Honeyduke's specialty," he said. "Blood-flavored lollipops for vampires."

"You're a vampire?"

He nodded. "Did you not suspect? I am a student of the dark arts." He smiled widely, and she saw how long and sharp his canines were. They were no prosthetics, either: the young dead man playing Viktor Krum in this fantasy scenario was really a vampire. He tossed his lollipop into the fire and said, "I lose my taste for candy so near the throbbing veins of a young Frenchwoman."

Carefully she maneuvered herself into his lap. Viktor looked around to make sure they were alone, and then unbuttoned Theodora’s blue jacket. Soon her uniform was lying on the floor in front of the fire.

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Viktor stood as Theodora settled into the chair. His fur-lined cape was resting on the back of the chair. He wore black pants and a black sweater, but shed them as Theodora watched. She felt guilty then, because underneath his clothes, the boy playing Viktor in her fantasy looked so young. She wondered if he was any older than twenty. But then again, this was the Underworld, and he was a vampire. He might have died hundreds, even thousands, of years ago.

Either way, he looked strong in the firelight, especially as took off his black sweater and exposed the hard angles of slick, gleaming muscles. His skin was pale bathed in the orange glow, making Theodora want to see more. She reached up to help him with his zipper and quickly learned he wore nothing underneath his black pants. His face exhibited pure gratitude as her hand caressed his cock.

He smelled incredibly good; she wanted to take him into her mouth, but remembered what Seph had said about vampires. Never breaking the connection between her hand and his dick, he helped her out of the chair, and the two of them tumbled onto the Persian rug. They wrestled for position for a moment. She let Viktor win, eventually, though Theodora was far stronger than she let on while she was play-acting. She ran the palms of her hands over his rock-like muscle. As he ascended to the top, Viktor took "Fleur's" face in both hands and kissed her passionately. Like a teenager, his kiss was a bit rough; like a vampire, he nipped her with wickedly sharp fangs. Her lip bled, and Viktor licked the blood away.

When Theo showed no signs of objecting to the bite, Viktor moved from her lips to her neck. She inhaled his scent, sweet and exotic, like tropical fruit. It was strange to feel his lips and tongue on her neck without feeling the warmth of his breath; he didn't breathe. If his body was cold, she couldn't tell so near the hearth.

Viktor's knee gently pushed Theo's legs apart, and she complied with this bodily request, spreading her legs further. As his cock entered her wet, waiting pussy, his fangs entered an artery in her neck. Pain and pleasure swirled in a dizzying sensation in her brain. She wasn't aware of how much blood he was taking, but his persistent sucking seemed to go on forever. So, too, did Viktor's hard, supernaturally quick, persistent fucking. He seemed able to go forever. Theo lost count of how many times she came, with no indication that Viktor was near his own crescendo. He had either a teenager's stamina, or centuries of practice, she was sure.

After his fangs retracted from her artery, though, Viktor's release came. Theo enjoyed the feel of his cock pumping into her, his body shuddering on top of hers...and tried not to think about his bloody ejaculation.

They separated. Theodora kissed his forehead tenderly as she picked her clothes off the floor. She was covered in sweat, but she didn’t care.

When Theodora reached the locker room, she changed back into the clothes she came in with. She didn’t bother to shower. She liked the sweaty smell of boy clinging to her. When Loki returned Theodora to the bar, she found Persephone waiting for her, sipping on a cosmo that might have contained cranberry juice or blood. She smiled broadly.

“How was yours?”

“It was wonderful,” Persephone said. “I mean, I really love Jack. I can’t wait to return to the world of the living to be with him again. But today was—well, what I think about sometimes when I’m with Jack. How was yours?”

“Just like being in the book, except dirty. I loved it.”

“Was he that good?”

“Totally.” The women laughed. Raven appeared and took Theodora’s drink order.

“And could we see a food menu now, please?” Persephone asked. Raven nodded and produced one from under the bar. “I’m starving. Are you hungry, Theo?”

“Like the wolf,” Theodora said, giggling.

The End