The drive was long. It was simultaneously tedium and bliss; purgatory and euphoria. In this ebon coffin of wheels and steel they rode, void of words but blessed of sound, cooing and humming and whimpering and all such things as those. In the arms of a vampire did a ghoul find comfort, two corpses reborn through modern marvels and clandestine methods, the complexity of their lives a beautiful simplicity in the grand scheme of the city. This city. Vitus.

Vitus has, of course, not always existed - and even in its current state it is the child of thought and mystique, the son-and-daughter of a long and arduous campaign which has long been forgotten save by a chosen few. It is not a city that exists needlessly, and it is not coincidence that it is only here wherein the second-living congregate. Vitus was built with a plan in mind, a plan which its creator would never truly see to completion. Let me tell you a little bit about it, if you would, as our heroine and her heroin head further towards the 'exclusive' section of the megalopolis.

-

Long ago, Vitus was a concept; Tsang Solutions did not exist; the East, the West, the South, and the Far North were not divied. That did not, of course, mean there was peace. In the year 29XX, two hundred years before our present day, there existed only one nation, one government, and one system. This was known as Polis.

Polis, or 'City-State' in Greek, was the result of a decades-long conflict known historically as World War III, but deemed romantically 'The War of Benefaction'. World War III came as a long and drawn-out burden, a final settling of old-world grudges between the major factions of modern society. It was seen as inevitable, and a necessity to progress socially, economically, and politically. All participants entered upon an agreed set of terms, and thus the battle began in earnest.

For a war, it was tame; at this point technology had advanced to such degree that most conflicts were carried out through proxy, whether mechanical or economical. This time, this final time, the slumbering elders of the globe agreed that this was to be a 'proper' war. That no filthy tactics were to be used, no needless casualties incurred, no criminal acts carried out, and no destruction which became too widespread. It was a game, on a grand scale - real flesh-and-blood soldiers carried out orders which were directed by a touch-screen or computer monitor. It was a backseat conflict.

And then, in the end, there was a winner - this winner, who had done all in their power to stay alive rather than win, had come into great power as the result of a donation by an unnamed individual: the titular benefactor. This benefactor had accrued great knowledge and influence in their time living, and sought after naught but peace... for a price. They would hand this small, nameless nation who only desired to preserve itself the world, in exchange for immortality.

There was an agreement made in a shadowy place, with a time limit provided: two hundred years. The benefactor would return when the time was up to collect upon the promised exchange, and in return, this nameless city-state would gain the keys to the kingdom. Overnight the world's banks froze. The people revolted. The armies ceased fire. There was crowned a winner.

And so the world was united, and while rebellion existed, peace reigned en-masse. Then came the problem of how to actually deliver upon this promise, this granted gift of life unending. Technology had become advanced, but was still centuries from allowing one to exist indefinitely. Polis only had 200 years to reign-in their many newly governed regions and provide the benefactor with an adequate solution. This was now the new issue, and all the world's researchers were set to work - at least in a governmental capacity.

Within Polis itself, factions were quickly forming. In the remains of Eurasia, a growing movement for technological perfection was forming as science furthered itself: proof of mechanized implantation and augmentation extending longevity to an alarming degree had begun to surface, along with evidence that it was safe to use and was becoming more sophisticated by the minute. To the leader of Polis they proposed this, to mechanize the benefactor entirely under a new global department for cybernetics known as Theseus Division.

Further ideas came then from Africa and Australia, who distanced themselves from Eurasia, and another radical idea was proposed by those who lived high in the stars upon the Pangea Ring. However, North and South America's idea was what we see today: to not provide a surrogate body for the benefactor, which would artificially provide immortality by technicality, but to sustain one single flesh; to truly provide life eternal, housed in a body of living meat and blood and bones.

This project was first known as the Vitality Solution, and scientists assembled from around the globe to design it. Hours upon hours of data were scoured; tests which would make even the most heinous war-criminals nauseous were carried out; the limits of the human body were pushed to the extreme and then further, the objective of their findings slowly becoming muddled in time. Vitality Solution because Vita-Solution, then Vitasol, and then, finally, Vitus.

They built the city not for wealth, or humanity, or the betterment of all. It was built to see how far things could go.

-

The limousine arrived with little better than a whispering of wheels, black asphalt kissing blacker rubber in the moonlit night's air. Within, two women lay somewhat entangled in a comfortable mess, no booze left to imbibe, no blood left to consume. In this moment they were enough for one another, one cool and the other hot, one short and the other tall. Their moment to languish came, lingered and passed. They pried themselves free of one another, whispering soft concessions that neither was in proper mind to hear or address.

The door was opened.

Out stepped a single heel-clad foot; Judas followed closely behind it, drawn out from the luxury automobile with all the grace of a prowling panther and twice the guile. In the silvery luminescence of streetlight and lunar glow, her skin glistened gently; her neck was dappled with droplets, and it took her a few moments to speak. First, a breath in of the cool air which surrounded her, her breath coming out misty. It was winter, after all.

"Eej... Esper James. Come on, come on... Let's go. Don't tell me you fell back asleep! I know, it's a long drive, but come on... You better not pass out just as we're about to get to the best part. Aren't you excited~?"

She turned around to see a pale-skinned hand reaching from the modern carriage, its ivory tone in comedic contrast to the abyss which it protruded from. Judas smirked, lips silent, and took the dainty appendage in her own strong grasp. With a careful hoist she found herself in the company of a short, wobbly, blonde-haired girl, who had dyed the tips of her impressive silken mane a deep black. Esper James Price Wynnfield, the heroine of our story, currently drunk on love and blood.

EJ was on loose footing from her legs alone, and being whisked up so abruptly prompted a stumble and fall straight into the waiting arms of a nocturnal predator. Judas rolled her eyes and let her smirk become a smile as the accidental embrace came. To her, it was so natural as to be thoughtless - putting her arms around the diminutive blonde, that was. After all, she was her secretary. That meant she was her property subordinate, and such things were free to use as was necessary. A good hug could count as necessary in a pinch.

"Jude... I'm..." EJ yawned, rubbing at one of her eyes even as her head laid angled into Judas's chest. It was a cozy, comforting position for her: having her body wrapped up in the cloak of another's arms and torso, sheltered from the wind and cold by a warm body and hopefully warmer heart. Judas leaned down and pecked her date's forehead, leaving a thin reminder in cherry-cinnamon lipgloss. It felt damp and cool in the after-hours breeze, but it was shaped like the lips of a lover, and that was good enough for EJ.

"Sleepy? Yes, I know - all that blood is wearing off. You're all snuggly and cute now... I could just eat you up, babe. Really sink my fangs into that soft-looking neck of yours, haha... Let's get inside. I think it's gonna snow soon, and I doubt that you'd be happy to get turned into a corpscicle."

A sleepy undead noggin nodded innocently against the breasts it was pillowed upon, big green eyes gazing up at the bosom's owner. The vampire stared back, smiling, stroking a hand absentmindedly through gossamer locks as she ushered her prey further inside.

Before them sat a building at least four stories high; a veritable manse, though compact and surrounded by an impressive garden decorated with wrought iron and gargoyles and such gothic architecture as to be nearly comedic given the owner's state of life. Judas was, without a doubt, quite the dramatic... Windows were unlit as of yet, but as Judas took the heavy brass knocker in her hand to pull the front door aside, a fireplace in the main hall flared to life. The flame was real - must've been expensive.

"Ta-daaaaaaaa...~ Welcome to my maison, mon petite cheri. I think that means 'welcome to my mansion, my little sweetheart'. Something like that, I guess... And no, before you ask, I live alone; just me and my cat, he's a little sweetheart. You'll see him sometime tonight, I'm sure." Judas drew EJ in and shut the door with her foot, making soft tsk's and coos to distract her date from the sound of a lock clicking shut.

"Ohhh... Judas, it's so pretty! Wow, I just... Geez, haha, my house is nothing like this. I'm really jealous, actually..." EJ was too drunk to lie. The decor was right up her alley - gothic but tasteful, antique but refined. The flooring was a dark hardwood and the wallpaper was red with a gold brocade design splattered across it. Everything was delightfully retro, in fact; it was a dream home for the wayward secretary, everything her gentle and tender necrotic heart desired. She wondered how Judas could afford it.

Judas, on the other hand, was already enamored with how easily EJ gave praise; normally her business associated feigned indifference to the lavish interior of her home, but EJ's rush to validate the decor and show her wholehearted approval was delicious. "Oh~ Thank you, thank you, you're faaaaaar too kind to me, my dear... Shall I show you the den? The dining room? The wine cellar? No, perhaps not that one... I like you drunk but I don't want you to overdo it, you know? Oh, hell with it, why not straight to the most interesting part of the tour: the bedroom?"

While Judas had teased the ghoul rather handily (pun intended) back at the Chateau, and had done her best to keep the submissive's spirits high on their way back to the home, she had done naught else. It was likely her toy was pent up even in her exhausted state, ready to blow at the flick of a switch... or a finger. Indeed, at the mention of the bedroom, EJ perks up.

Judas began to lead her lover through narrow hallways rife with adornment: paintings of winter landscapes, wall hangings depicting bats and flowers and moonlit evenings. Her hands and grasp were a rock of solidarity in the addled ghoulette's mind, leaned into as necessary as they passed oaken door frames and pictures of predatory animals in action.

Eventually a staircase was met, spiraled in design and looming ever higher into a gloomy stairwell, the light seeming to die away the further it ascended. Judas missed no beat; strong arms lifted the wary woman into a Princess style carry, held like a hammock between either forearm. EJ yelped as she was lifted, heart jumping into her throat as her autonomy was stolen away.

However, it was... comforting being in Judas's arms. The masochist thrill of having her freedom deprived in myriad ways rippled through her once more, even something so small as being lifted without permission giving her a gentle buzz. She nuzzled up to her date, giving a weak and fang-toothed grin. "O-Oh... Uh... Thanks, Judas..."

"Of course, love~ You look way too fucked up to climb these on your own, and I'd hate to stain my wooden floor with your pretty red blood..." Judas purred, hand stroking her plaything's head and running fingers through her cornsilk locks. EJ snuggled closer, shutting her eyes; she smelled like booze and perfume in a stale sort of way, but Judas loved it.

Click. Clack. Clicka-clack. Judas's fashionable shoes offered a percussive backing for the pair's spiraling ascent, slowly and steadily advancing towards the top floor. Their heartbeats were sluggish to match the manager's footsteps, though not for Judas's lack of excitement. Finally, then, they reached the top of the stairs. Before the pair of women lay a short hallway with two doors: one at the end, dark walnut wood engraved with some light floral motifs, and a double-door to the left with windows in the top that led to a balcony. Outside, snow was pouring down into the city like a sprinkling of cremation ash.

The door was reached and opened, portal thrown wide to the master (or mistress?) bedroom. It was very... Judas, and Esper James couldn't help but gasp and blush as the truth of it was revealed. While the general color scheme was retained, the decor became lavish and perverse: a bed nearly as big as EJ's lay at the furthest end of the room beneath a large skylight, illuminating the bedchamber itself and revealing the toys within.

A large wardrobe lay to one side, half-cracked open with glints of steel and hints of leather from harnesses and collars hanging within; a toy chest sat at the foot of the bed, it's content a mystery but somewhat implied; an easy chair with a bottle of wine set beside it on an end table; a large wooden X, complete with adjustable manacles was laid against the wall; a wooden sawhorse with cushioned rests for body and limbs sat tucked into a corner, beside a cabinet laden with candles. Upon the wall, a rack of whips, crops, and paddles caught the light.

EJ instantly thought back to that momentary imagining from earlier: of herself on her knees and hands, collared and leashed, drinking champagne from a bowl. Seemed that she had been almost completely on the money. Her blue-balled loins were quick to react even as Judas shut the door behind them, carrying her to the bed and giving her a gentle toss onto its cushy surface.

"Mmmm...~ This is how most good dates end, right? With the one who paid taking their prize back home to bed with them? I'll admit, I haven't used most of this stuff in years and years... but I'm pretty excited to give you what you deserve~"

What she deserved, eh? EJ's mind raced with possibilities as her fingers fumbled with the buttons to her shirt. Judas assisted; she leaned over the ghoul girl and went straight for her pants, far more sober than her quarry. The pair worked in sloppy tandem to disrobe the submissive secretary, her body soon bared beneath the moonlight. She was glistening from nervous sweat, eyes wild and lip bit; her flesh was nearly pearl in the lunar glow from the skylight.

In her drunken noggin, EJ's pounding heart drowned out any thoughts she could have conjured. Her body was in control as her consciousness whirled, whole body naked and presented to her boss like a lamb to the slaughter. Somewhere between lust and fear fell bliss, and she was surely blissful - especially as the tip of her pride and shame had a long, affectionate kiss planted on it.

Esper James yelped at the brazen act, but her womanhood twitched for the effort. Judas winked, her tongue rolling out like Hell's own red carpet, coiling around her guest of honor before the encore followed down to EJ's base. It was just the warm-up that the sloshed and weary girl needed to snap to wakefulness, hands going to Judas's head to run through her hair as their bodies met.

Love from word-of-mouth was made with sweet passion, Judas's tongue and gag reflex more than prepared for the task presented. Sloppy and wet and warm, slow and teasing and sensual... This wasn't Judas's first rodeo, and her motions were as practiced and precise as all the rest. She brought EJ up to bear then dropped her time and time again, nearly letting her rest only to set her back to work mercilessly. Esper James writhed upon the soft satin sheets in a world of her own lust, the snow outside the only thing that could penetrate her stupor.

Soon the presentation went from oral to demonstrative, but not without the first of many rushes of hot pleasure as Judas benevolently allowed her prey to climax. Two minutes to rest and breathe and clean herself up a bit and then she was back to work, the chest opened and its contents put to use. EJ found herself curled onto her back, heels near her head, as Judas took a dominant posture; at first she worked only with her hands, but tools quickly came to assist.

This was much different than her time with Purity. With the pink haired human, EJ felt nervous at first but comforted and loved as their time together went on. It was sensual and intimate lovemaking, an inexperienced beginner being led and taught by a more experienced lover. It had been gentle and kind and, in her mind, less about pleasure than about togetherness.

This was not so wholesome, not by a long shot. Judas wanted to impress and overwhelm her without a doubt; she wanted to make EJ quiver and squirm and melt into a puddle, to make her peak over and over in a barrage of positions and methods, to wring her dry until she was completely devoted to the vampire. In a way, it was working... The new experiences and sensations were tempting in a way she had never felt.

Between the soft kiss of silicone and the harsh lash of leather, EJ found salvation. It was good to be a plaything. She had already known these feelings from how Judas treated her in the office, and how Puri coddled her, but as welts formed on her back and thighs she felt released. Finally things drew to a close with the sawhorse holding her aloft as Judas made use of her, a thin, milky trail of love and a film of sweat on the cushions left as a reminder of her time there.

EJ staggered to her feet after a bit while Judas cleaned, nude and messy and sore and relieved, stumbling straight into the dominatrix's arms. Their embrace was warm and damp, Judas smiling from ear to ear, EJ only smirking as best her tired face could. There was no need for further talk, though sweet nothings and gentle words were exchanged in mumbled phrases. It had been satisfying; cathartic, even. The room was a mess, Judas's ambitions leading to a rigorous use of anything she deemed fit. EJ was exhausted.

They flopped onto the bed and crawled beneath the thick covers, EJ snuggling to Judas while the latter laid back and relaxed. Mere minutes later the pair were asleep and laid upon one another, drifting through waves of dream. In the silence, all that one could truly hear was the falling snow.

Downstairs, in the now unlit main hall, where the fireplace no longer burned, a door clicked open. A hand reached out from the blackness to push it free.

-

Esper James dreamed again tonight. In her dream she sat upon a boat, a great freighter, in the midst of a vast black ocean. Overhead, the mood pierced through choking grey and black clouds to light the world as best it could; however, only the empty deck of the freighter itself could be seen. No cargo containers lay atop it, and in theory none were below; no other crew members were in sight either. She was completely alone.

Suddenly, a sound broke through the silence: singing, beautiful singing, from a woman whose voice was painfully familiar but still unable to be placed. It was a vocalization which was unparalleled, making Esper James think of opera, or a religious choir; a vibrato which rippled the waves, and a soprano which pulled her closer and closer to the stern.

She searched as far as she could, looking into the murky depths and squinting to try and see, but nothing came to her save for stronger and stronger music. Glinting metal began to float up from the depths, merely shards at first, but growing larger by the moment. Slivers became chunks, which became quarters, which became semicircles... which became full spheres, spined like cacti. They surrounded the boat in all directions.

The first of them touched the boat just as the unseen songstress hit her crescendo. A violent explosion crashed through the freighter's hull, twisted steel and smoking debris sent flying in a cascade of water droplets. Water started to fill the hull quickly even as another mine smashed into the starboard side, sending EJ tumbling onto her ass, fear filling her tender heart. Sure, the mines wouldn't kill her, but drowning was still painful - it would be days and days before she washed up anywhere.

And then the freighter was slipping below the waves, capsized completely, dragging EJ down with it like she was lead. Together they fell into the bluish blackness of the underwater world, and the ghoul was alone. It was cold, and burned, like the dead womb she had been born into; she could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but alcoholic sting.

From the darkness came a hand, metallic and rusted, built from scrap and forgotten ships. EJ tried to scream as it grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her down further towards a quickly growing field of glowing red dots, but her lungs already held no air. The singing began again, now a chorus as hand after hand reached up to touch her.

And then, nothingness.