Deathless Discipline (3 page)

“Yesssss,” she encouraged. He pushed in and out of her, reaching one of his hands around the front and spanking her pussy with a flick of his wrist. It didn't hurt, but the idea of it—of this being a punishment—was driving her wild. “Ohh,” she moaned.

“That's right,” he murmured. “Take your punishment like a good girl.” He continued fucking her ass while he spanked and she squirted in panicked ecstasy—it was that moment before an orgasm hits when desperation takes over. “Come for me,” he growled, slapping harder and she erupted at the command, tremors rocking her body so strongly that she momentarily lost all awareness of who or where she was. By the time the last one rippled through, she felt boneless and would have collapsed in a heap on the floor if Dom hadn't been holding her.

His spent cock slid out of her and he scooped her easily into his arms, carrying her to their bathroom, where he balanced her on one knee as he turned on the shower. When the water temperature was to his liking, he carried her in and set her on her feet, still supporting her with an arm around her waist. She fell back against the wet tile wall, water spraying her face. He adjusted the water so it hit the side wall instead and began to slowly lather her body with soap.

It was pure bliss, and she knew it was pure bliss, but could hardly experience it because she was still so far out from the mind-blowing orgasm she'd just had. She made an effort to reel her consciousness back in as she admired her vampire husband—the lines of firm muscle rippling as he moved, the dark lashes against green and gold flecked eyes. Eyes that were devouring her now with appreciation, fangs still half-lengthened. She tipped her head back to offer her neck and he smiled, the fangs shooting to full length, but he shook his head.

“I already drank from you today,
amore mio.”
He leaned in close to run the tip of a fang along her neck, anyway. “Shall we start our date night tradition tonight? I'm dying to take you out on the town.”

“
Dying
is an odd word choice for a vampire,” she teased.

His normally smooth expression suddenly became animated. “I have something to show you,
piccolina
.”

“What is it?”

“Come here.” He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, holding a towel out for her before drying himself. Then he used his towel to wipe a clear spot on the fogged mirror and leaned forward to examine his hair. “Look at this,” he said eagerly.

She leaned in next to him. “What?”

“Look, here. Do you see it? It's a gray hair!” He turned away from the mirror and they stared at each other.

“You're… you're
aging
?” she asked, shocked.

He nodded, his eyes bright with excitement. “So it seems. Maybe more than just my semen turned mortal when I fought off Roxanna's attempt to turn me.”

“You're happy.” She wound her arms around his neck, trying to take in the significance. Dom had resisted their relationship in the beginning because he was unwilling to give his heart to a mortal who would die while he lived on.

“
Si, bambina.
We'll age together like married couples should. It's a miracle. Not as big a miracle as Luci, but almost.”

Her heart burst with love for him—she was moved by his desire to grow old and die with her, rather than continue his immortal life as a vampire. And just to see him so happy was a gift.

She offered her lips to him, pulling his head down to meet hers. “It's wonderful,” she said softly, pressing her lips against his, slipping her tongue teasingly between his lips. He cupped the back of her head and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against his naked form, his hard, lean body perfectly matched to her small soft one. They fit together in a harmonious balance of opposites: male to female, age to youth, vampire to mortal, dominant to submissive. And now they didn't have to fear their future. Their love may have no end, but their lives would—an odd thing to celebrate, but a blessing, nonetheless.

They parted when Luci woke with a wail. “I'll get her,” she murmured, and returned to the steamy bathroom with their other blessing in her arms. Dom wrapped his arms around both of them with a contented-sounding sigh. Luci crooned happily and she closed her eyes, savoring the joy that flowed between the three of them.

The End

Bonus Story: Mary Catherine Learns Her Lesson

Nanette had put on her default costume to work Halloween at No Return, the nightclub where she cocktailed. It was the same costume she'd thrown on last year and the year before. It was completely unoriginal, as evidenced by the six other Catholic school girls in the club. But it had taken no thought whatsoever and didn't encumber her movement around the crowded club, so it met her requirements.

The house band, The Morphs, was just about to play, so she headed over to the stage to see if any of the band members needed a drink. She hopped up on the stage and took a good look at Frank, the drummer. He was wearing a Catholic priest outfit.

“Frank Martin, you look ridiculous playing drums in that costume!” she exclaimed, laughing.

He looked up and grinned broadly, his eyes traveling up and down her body, resting a moment too long on her breasts. “Be careful how you speak to Father Frank, Mary Catherine, or he'll take a cane to your bare bottom!”

She couldn't help but giggle. “Mary Catherine, eh? You think I'm Irish Catholic?”

“I guess in Tucson it would be Maria Caterina, right?” he drawled, his thick-lashed green eyes locking onto hers in a way that took her breath away.

Why had she never noticed before how extraordinarily good-looking he was? She didn't know whether it was that glittering gaze or the way her thoughts drifted back to his threat to cane her, but her mouth had gone inexplicably dry and her heart had picked up its pace.

His eyes dropped again to her breasts, which she had squeezed into a cropped white t-shirt that was two sizes too small for her. “You look hot,” he murmured.

She normally had a snappy answer for every pick up line out there, but “Do you need a drink?” was all she managed to choke out.

“Sure,” he said, melting her with an impish grin. “Irish car bomb.”

“You got it,” she said, turning abruptly away before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

When she served it to him, he covered her hand as he took the glass so that she couldn't pull away. “We're working on your song,” he said, indicating Kate and Fox, the two lead band members with his chin. They were leaning together over an iPad with Fox trying chords on his guitar and Kate singing along. She looked at Frank's fingers, which were still covering hers. A current of electricity was zinging through them and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have those hands on other parts of her body.

“What?” she asked dazedly.

“You'll see,” he said, relinquishing her hand with that boyish smile again.

A few moments later, the lead singer Kate got on the mic to open up the set. She was dressed as a sexy vampiress, with a short black skirt and long black cape and fancy fangs. Kate had married Nanette's boss, Dom, a month ago in the sweetest little wedding she'd ever attended.

“This first song is from Father Frank, going out to our favorite server!” Kate said and started singing a rock ballad she vaguely recognized as from the 80's. “Sister Christian, oh the time has come…”

She craned her neck and saw Frank wink at her. She laughed and gave him a thumbs up.

* * *

This was the first time he'd ever cracked the normally aloof cocktail waitress, Nanette. He'd been hot for her since she first started working at the club a year ago, but she'd never given him the time of day. For some reason tonight she was sending out the signals, though. It had been his perfect luck that their costumes were coordinated. She was truly wearing the hell out of hers—there had been other girls dressed in Catholic school uniforms that night, but none could hold a candle to her. She had the perfect body for it—petite with a small waist and shapely legs, and big, natural breasts. He'd watched her all night, carrying trays loaded with martinis and cosmopolitans, tossing her long glossy brown hair as she moved smoothly through the pumping crowd without spilling a drink.

Believing there's a window of opportunity for such things, he had a plan for hanging out with her when the club closed. She was sitting at the bar sipping on her shift drink, which boded well. If she had somewhere to be, she'd have already taken off with the rest of the employees. He finished loading his drums into his van and walked back in.

“Play a game of pool, Dom?” he asked the club owner, hoping to have a reason to be allowed to stick around after hours.

Dom looked at his wife Kate. “Nah, I should get her to bed,” he said. Kate was pregnant and was often exhausted by the end of a night on stage.

“No, I want to stay, Dom, please? Just for a little while?”

Dom smiled at her indulgently. “All right, then,” he said and led the way back to the pool room. As he'd hoped, the rest of them wandered back as well: Fox and his boy-toy of the night, Jimmie, and Kate and Nanette. He pulled off his clerical robe, glad to be rid of the cumbersome costume. It had been a fun idea, but it had been way too hot for playing drums all night.

Dom trounced him at pool so he suggested a game of doubles, knowing Kate wasn't the world's best pool player and wanting to engage Nanette.

“Did you like your song?” Kate asked Nanette as she broke.

She smiled. “You guys can pull just about any song out of your asses, can't you? Who sings that, anyway?” she was looking at him with her sparkling brown eyes.

“Night Ranger,” he said. “It's a classic.”

She snorted. “A classic. Right. I see you took off your costume. Was the outfit becoming too hot for you, Father?” she asked teasingly, before continuing, “Did you go to a Catholic school, Frank?”

He shook his head and grinned. “Nope. What about you, Mary Catherine?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Mmm… ever get caned by Mother Superior?”

She giggled. “No, there was no caning when I went to school. But they did teach us not to masturbate.”

This was good—she was talking sex. She was definitely still throwing out the signals.

“I'd give twenty bucks to see a Catholic spanking here tonight. Come on, Mary Catherine disciplined by Father Frank,” Fox said, throwing a twenty out on the table.

He sent a telepathic thank you to Fox, who must have guessed his agenda. Nanette looked tweaked by the suggestion, her nipples poking through her bra and the thin tight t-shirt that was driving him crazy.

Dom pulled out another $20 bill. “I'll put another twenty on that,” he said, winking at her. Frank could see the indecision on her face. He picked up the bills and snapped them in her face. “Forty bucks for forty spanks.”

“Panties down!” Jimmie called out.

“No way,” she said. “I am not pulling my panties down in front of my boss,” she said, throwing a look at Dom.

“Does that mean you'd do it with your panties up?” he asked in a low, teasing voice, meant only for her.

She flushed, but after a moment's hesitation took the money with a haughty snap of her wrist, folding it and putting it into the band of her white thigh-high socks. “All right, Father Frankie. Hit me with your best shot.”

* * *

She'd always had a streak of exhibitionist in her. She was the type of girl who flashed her tits for beads at Mardi Gras. Or popped up on the dance box to pretend she was making out with a girl just to hear the crowd scream. Bending over the pool table now, with her skirt flipped up and the whoops of encouragement from her audience, she spread her fingers on the green felt and rolled her hips back to present her ass.

“Count them, Mary Catherine,” Frank said in a soft, dangerous voice.

She gulped and wondered what she had gotten herself into—she didn't know Frank that well, for one thing, and despite her penchant for performing, being on display was suddenly a little overwhelming. A shiver of anticipation ran through her and then Frank slapped her ass hard enough to make her jump and give a little shriek. She recovered herself quickly. “One, Father Frank. May I have another?” she asked sweetly, wanting to put on a good show.

He slapped again, harder. “Ow! Two, Father Frank—God pray for your soul.”

The on-lookers laughed.

Smack. “Ah! Three.” Smack. “Ooh! Four. Five. Ouch!”

“I'm sorry, Mary Elizabeth, but you've been a bad girl,” he said, smacking away.

“I thought it was Mary Catherine,” she said, looking over her shoulder with a smirk.

“Never. Contradict. Father. Frank,” he said firmly, punctuating each word with a hard spank as she yelped and jumped.

“I'm sorry, Father Frank.” The burn was spreading exponentially across her butt cheeks, making it hard to focus.

“You forgot to count, we're starting over.”

“That's not fair!”

“Is it fair?” he demanded of their audience.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh yeah, that's fair.”

“She wasn't counting.”

Damn the peanut gallery. She looked over and saw Kate sitting on Dom's lap, looking flushed. His hand was between her legs and she had no doubt what he was doing with it. It looked like he was wearing Kate's vampire costume teeth now. Knowing they were getting off watching her sent a tingling throb to her pussy and she shut down part of her mind that was starting to panic from the pain. She rolled her pelvis back at Frank again.

“Spank me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said, wiggling her hips from side to side.

“Mmmm,” he said appreciatively. He brought his hand sharply down on her ass again, and as he picked up the pace, she started to lose her ability to count as she tried to breathe through the burn.

“Uh oh, start over again, Mary Catherine.”

This time she was truly indignant—the fun of the spanking was over and her butt really hurt. “No way, Frank,” she protested. She reached back with her hands and covered her ass.

“All right,” he conceded. “I will start over, but you don't have to count. You see, Mary Catherine? Jesus taught me mercy.”