It is early to hunt, but I am hungry and, to be honest, the hunt has lost much of its appeal for me. I am glad that it is likely to be the last time, and want it to be over as quickly as possible.
I find myself wandering along the bank of a river, and I choose to sit at a pavement café, which overlooks the water, for a light lunch.
One of the waiters catches my eye. He is very dark, and I would not be surprised if he has Spanish blood. He smiles at me, with teeth that are very white, contrasting with his flashing chocolate eyes, and raven curls. We flirt during dinner, and when he brings me my coffee, I ask what time he finishes work. Shyly, he volunteers that it will be within the hour, so we arrange to meet near the bridge.
There is a bar nearby, with shady and secluded booths, open to the air at this time of year, and with a wonderful view of the river.
I sip a cold drink and watch the word go by.
As I do so, my attention is caught by a large, black car that pulls into the kerb, at the other side of the road. I can't see what is happening on the other side of the car, but when, a few moments later it screeches off, it leaves a young man scrabbling on the ground for pieces of paper, which are scattered around him. I smile. How interesting.
Leaving my drink, I hurry over to help him. I catch a ten pound note, which has blown into the road, and he flinches defensively when I hand it to him. Hmm... good choice, Luma. The boy is glorious. He is not as beautiful as Aqua but, with his red gold hair, and eyes that are an unusual shade of emerald green, it is close. His face is disfigured by a large ugly bruise, but bruises fade.
I find myself reaching out, to lightly brush the bruise on his face, with my fingers. He shies away.
"It's alright. You don't have to be afraid of me. I was just wondering who would have been so foolish as to mar such beauty, in so ugly and brutal a way."
The boy frowns."It's none of your business."
"You're right. It's not. Your pardon, I was rude and overly familiar. If you are alright, and have recovered what was lost, then I will take my leave, and apologise for bothering you at what is clearly a difficult time for you."
He stops and stares at me. I smile back warmly.
"You know what I am." He says flatly and turns away. I put a gentle hand on his arm. I have no intention of letting him get away, but I would prefer to treat him with gentleness. That way he will settle to the life more easily, and I have a promise to keep.
"You are young and beautiful and in pain. You are lost and hopeless, and you do what you can to live for another day. I think you are strong and brave, and your beauty dazzles me. Will you let me help you?"
He stares at me nervously, for a moment, then sneers. "What can you do to help me?"
"You would be surprised. What would you say if I told you that I could offer you a home, companionship, a warm bed, regular meals, clothes and a chance to study and learn?"
"I would say that you are a liar, and wonder what you really have in mind for me." He looks anxious now, and his eyes are darting around, noting escape routes.
"What I have in mind for you, is exactly what I have said."
"And what would you expect from me in return?"
"No more than anyone else who pays for your services. I will take you into my home, share what I have, and take you to an ecstasy you never imagined existed, and all I ask in return is that you grace my bed when it pleases me."
He stares at me, through narrowed eyes. "How do I know you're not going to hurt me?"
"You don't. But I swear to you that I never will."
He runs his eyes over me, weighing up the way I look, the way I speak, the sincerity in my face, shining through my eyes. He looks scared but desperate, and his fingers rise uncertainly to his cheek.
"I..."
Knowing I have already won, I move closer and cover his hand with mine. He winces, but doesn't pull away. Slowly and gently I take him into my arms. He resists, but not too much. When he is encircled by my arms, he starts to shake and cry.
"Hush now. There is no need to cry. There is no need to cry anymore. You are safe now." He looks up at me with pleading, frightened eyes, which are even more beautiful now they are bright with tears. I smile gently, but he can't return it. He is so frightened. I don't blame him.
Raising my hand, I brush the hair away from his face, and bury my fingers in it. Although it is dirty and tangled, it still feels soft under my hands. The boy shivers, and allows me to tilt back his head, exposing his throat. I ponder my options. I am hungry, but I don't want to feed in the open, in broad daylight. As much as I want it, it is going to have to wait. Instead I run my thumbs down his neck, on either side, releasing a very carefully controlled amount of venom. The boy shudders, and his eyes flicker. I watch awareness and, more importantly will, fade, but not to the point where he is in danger of losing consciousness.
I put my arm around him and steer him gently off the road, towards the bridge. In the shade underneath the bridge, I kiss him and he responds eagerly. He is an accomplished kisser, more so than most of the boys I have taken. I can imagine what he will feel, and smell, like when he is clean, and Chancey has worked his magic.
As he presses against me, I feel his inevitable arousal pressing against my leg. "What do you want, little one? What do you want of me right now?"
"Take me. Take me, please. I... I need..."
"I know what you need," I whisper into his ear, as I press him back against the wall, and start to kiss his neck. "Tell me."
I let my hand trail down to rest on his hip, my thumbs pressing deeply into his abdomen, finding pressure points that make his legs tremble, and his body twitch. He gasps, and throws his head back, giving me even more access to his throat.
"Tell me what you want."
"You," he gasps. "I want you."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Touch me."
"Touch you? Here?" I let one hand wander down to brush his arousal, on the outside of his trousers.
"Yes... yes there..."
"Like this?" He moans, pathetically, as I massage him, and lets his head fall forward onto my shoulder. "You don't get this very often do you? You don't have people pleasuring you."
"No."
