Ron's Dressing Room, The Foremes Modeling Agency Building, Grand Street, Southport, New Jersey.....
Visions of blood filled the mind of the grunting werebeast as he plunged his enormous appendage deeper and deeper inside the whimpering blond lad beneath him as if he had not a care in the world. His body was slick with sweat and his mouth watering at the sweet scent of fear, sex, and arousal that radiated off the blond as he jolted him along the hard floor belly first and in all manner of conflicting emotions and sensations alike. Ron's body had been as bare as the body of the blond while the latest round of rutting commenced as the brute of a man pinned the younger lad to the cold hard floor below pumping his hips as his monstrous cock split the blond known as Garret in two. He had not been exactly ready to be ravaged at this degree but Ron cared nothing for the comfort of his new plaything. The protrusion of his fangs was a clear indication that his physical lust and desire for blood were still a factor as he buried himself to the hilt inside the tight warmth that squeezed his cock as tightly as any other before.
The warring had given way to his mind's eye traveling back in time to an era he had attempted so many nights with many bottles of booze and warm bodies alike to put behind him. It seemed that with Karlos arriving in Southport that the unwanted chapter of history between the two of them had once more been opened and Ron was feeling every bit of the rage and frustration that he felt the last time he'd encountered the callous bloodsucker stooge.
Their time had been something of an innocent thing, the dashing rouge thief and the clueless former slave who had been indebted to the charming rouge for killing a particularly brutal master who had been of a perverse class. As Ron Hemming continued to pump his well-toned hips into the moaning blond lad, he felt himself slipping away into the distant halls of his tormented memories.
It was the year 1902, Ron had recalled it very well as he'd been only sixteen when he happened upon the curious sight of a dark complected lad about a year younger than him being bound and gaged as another man, lighter in completion dragged him into the darkness of a barn shouting obscenities and beating him via a whip before closing the doors and approaching the bound lad after dropping the boy's trousers.
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The Barn, Old Farmland, Unknown Location, Unknown Island, 1902...
Ron Hemming's dark eyes glowed eerily yellow as he stood above the rafters of the barn he'd ducked into when a certain scent had caught his undivided attention. It was a powerful scent that kept him from any other as he moved through the vast land that belonged to a group of farmers who had been among the wilderness. He had been having a good deal of difficulty attempting to control his wild urges and as a result, they lead him to the scent of arousal and fear that only seemed to amplify them. He could see the man who had led the bound younger teen, he'd been thin and slightly red due to having been out in the sun for far too long. He was heavily aged and dirty wearing filthy attire consisting of a dirty white long-sleeve shirt, dirty dark brown trousers, and dust-covered brown leather boots.
His hair was blond but darker than normal variants. He had blue eyes which were filled with a combination of infused lust and hatred as he stood over the bound lad. By contrast, he'd been very dark-skinned, like one of the many slaves Ron had seen a time or two brought into the camps and farms of many a whip-driving madman enraged and bound. He had short-grown black hair, and worse only dirty tan trousers that appeared to be made from burlap as he crawled on his already dirty knees with carious scars along his back and shoulders.
The older man had pulled down the lad's trousers and then his own as he stood before him fishing his cock out and aiming it at the lad's exposed backside. He ran his hands along his dark body marveling at it as he despised it while his small cock swelled at the prospect of entering him. Ron had not known why, but he'd been enraged at the scene. The scent drove his lustful madness like nothing else as he leaped from the rafters and swiftly tore the throat out of the older man as he stepped back and tripped over his own trousers that remained at his ankles.
The old fool choked on his own blood even as his inferior cock stuck up in the air protruding from his waist as he bleed out amid the dirt and leftover straw that surrounded them. Ron turned his attention to the dark-skinned lad his own cock pulsing as he approached, but he had no intention of harming him. He released the now confused lad from his binds and stood still very much aroused as he looked upon the naked body of the younger teenage boy.
There was some confusion on the part of the teen but he seemed to be quite aware of the brute force that accompanied the young Ron Hemming as he stood his muscles rippling in the open air. Seeing his chance to run after so long being tormented and stripped before the eyes of the monster who had been in a pool of his own blood.
"Loup-garou." said the terrified and half-naked dark-skinned teen.
Ron had not been privy to speaking his language at the time and simply glared at him his nostrils flaring with the scent of arousal and his cock growing harder in the wake of all the excitement and blood at his feet.
The dark-skinned lad pulled up his makeshift trousers but he found it difficult given his own arousal preventing it. Ron watched him in fascination as he fumbled about stuffing his rather sizeable cock into his trousers despite his fear of him. He inched toward the exit but seemed to realize he'd be overrun and accused of murdering the bastard who had intended to do him harm.
He stepped back toward Ron looking over the half-naked pale teenager with an impressive set of abs and well-toned muscles as he stood equally shirtless in the midst of the dead farmer's barn. Realizing his only chance at escaping this place intact, he bravely approached Ron who could hear his heart beating at a quickened pace.
"You are one of the red eyes yes?" asked the lad finding his courage when he had little, to begin with.
Ron tilted his head in a confused sort of fashion a dog would when it heard a strange sound.
"Red eyes?" asked Ron in as best English as he could muster. Marcellus Altomare had been adamant about teaching him both English and Italian to go along with his Gaelic dialect.
He had been well aware of what the new slaves called his kind.
"Loup-garou." said the dark-skinned lad nodding as he took note of Ron's power in the mess he left of his previous tormentor. "Perhaps there is a way to make things right, and to secure my vengeance upon this wretched place after all."
Ron seemed interested, but only due to the scent the darker lad was giving off enticing his cock as it twitched before him threatening to burst from his own dark and heavily tented trousers.
"You desire me, do you not?" asked the dark-skinned lad catching on rather quickly. "If this is so then you shall be of use to me, slay my enemies this night and you may have me at your will."
Ron's eyes shifted into a darkened red hue which seemed to please the dark-skinned lad to no end. He had been well aware of the capable abilities of Ron's kind and had been fortunate to get one's attention. Feeling the prospect of victory well in hand, the dark-skinned lad approached Ron and ran his free rough calloused hands along the brute's muscled chest.
"I know your hunger for me fiend, I see it clear as day." said the dark-skinned lad still stroking Ron's chest. "Slay these foul beasts and I shall be yours when this farm runs red with their vile blood for all the harm they've caused my people, this I swear to you."
Ron growled as he rushed out of the barn and proceeded to let his ever-building bloodlust boil to the surface. He slaughtered every pale worker and resident that resided at the slave farm and allowed countless other prisoners and bound men and women to escape his wrath before venturing to the barn where he found the rather interesting dark-skinned lad on all fours, but unbound and awaiting his arrival.
He discarded his trousers and Ron, who had been covered in the dark crimson of the farmers' blood, approached him the scent driving him from bloodlust to physical lust as his cock burst through his trousers and he pounced upon the waiting lad their bodies touching as the price for blood was due to be paid.
Knowing he'd been untouched, Ron eased his way along his body licking and sucking at the flesh of the rather brave lad's neck before slowly easing his way inside him parting him with great difficulty but enjoying the sensation of tightness all the more. The dark-skinned lad moaned and whimpered through the night as Ron had his way with him begging to know the name of his apparent champion while the brute had pounded him amid the dirt and mud in a frenzy the scent of him driving the madness even further.
"W-What is your name?" asked the dark-skinned lad moaning beneath Ron's thrusts into his well-shaped backside as he gripped his hips.
"Ron." growled the brute as he thrust forward losing himself in the scent and sensation. "Ron Hemming."
"Well big brute that is Ron Hemming, I am called Karlos," he replied grunting and moaning in the wake of Ron's continued thrusts. "Karlos Aventium."
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Ron's Dressing Room, The Foremes Modeling Agency Building, Grand Street, Southport, New Jersey.....
The frenzied pace at which Ron had pumped his hips into the young clueless blond continued to increase as memories of filling Karlos over and over again that night replayed inside his weary mind. His cock had twitched and before he knew it, he filled the blond just as much before withdrawing in frustration as the lad had passed out during the act and lay limp beneath him. Slick via sweat and his own release, Ron staggered over toward the desk where he'd been keeping a bottle of whiskey for the occasion and downed it in one go. His foul mood seemed to be unending as more memories of The Illusive Vampirian Karlos Aventium filled his mind evoking his rage to degrees he had not felt in years as he saw his way to getting dressed and storming out of the building and hopping into his sports car.
He despised Karlos and everything they shared after the blood-sucking vampire's treachery had nearly cost him everything that still mattered to him.