Dance With A Vampire?
The first time ever I saw your face…
I wanted to thump it. You were blocking the entrance door to the Ebony Rose Club. My first time date, Dave, a tall vampire Goth complete with fangs (that I was fervently hoping would be sunk into my neck at some point during the evening) had just gained admittance to the Halloween Ball being held there. You claimed I looked underage and club policy was strict: admission to over twenty-ones only. I argued that I was less than a day away from reaching that pinnacle and had the birth certificate about my person to prove it. Come midnight I would be of age and what was a few hours? You shook your head, saying, a rule was a rule and not to be flouted. What kind of anally retentive twat are you, I asked cordially. You calmly replied that you were the kind that anally retained rules.
I appealed to Dave hoping that he’d demonstrate some real vampire traits and drain away all your lifeblood so I could step delicately over your body and go to the ball after all. He didn’t. He simply shrugged and said ‘see you around, babe,’ and then promptly attached himself to a romantic lady Goth with flowing hair and a pallor suggestive of already having given one pint of blood too many. I made a mental note never to date a bisexual again. It doubled the chances of being dumped.
In the spirit of petty revenge I chose to hang around outside the club until midnight struck and I attained the mystical age that would gain me entrance, and the possibility of reclaiming the one I lusted after from his corpse bride. You carried on vetting the punters, allowing some in and turning away others. I kept up a running and deeply insulting personal commentary, but you ignored me with magnificent aplomb. It made me all the more determined to get under your skin, preferably the skin that covered the area where your heart was housed, if you had one, so I could carve it out for losing me my chance to dance with a sexy vampire.
The witching hour struck and I triumphantly demanded that you give me rite of passage. I was of age and met all dress code requirements. Pushing up the sleeve of your pristine white shirt you glanced at your watch, pulled out the button and turned the hands back, saying daylight saving had just come into effect. I still had an hour to wait and why didn’t I wait quietly like a good little Goth boy. Bastard was the word that sprang readily to mind and mouth in many and quite splendid variation. I also stamped in fury, not caring that I was almost twenty-one and really too old for such public displays of temper. Your foot got in the way and I quickly stamped again before you could remove it from the vicinity of the black leather commando boots I was wearing that evening.
Firmly taking my wrists you set me to one side, softly saying that if you weren’t so busy you’d take me somewhere quiet and show me how you dealt with foul mouthed little boys who had stayed up past their bedtime and were having tantrums as a result. I have never blushed more deeply, been angrier, or more aroused in my life. I was suddenly confused. Giving you a look that I hoped would kill you I stuck my nose in the air and walked away. I’d love to say I walked off with my dignity intact, but alas the only thing intact was my erection.
In my umbrage and concern with my treacherous groin I failed to notice that I had been targeted, as I stalked away from the Ebony Rose. You noted two figures detaching themselves from the shadows and after handing over keeper of the magic door duties to another, you followed those who were following me. You intervened before a harsh punch in the mouth could progress into a fully-fledged beating.
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave,
to the dark and the endless skies, my love…
Actually I didn’t, not at first. Your easy self-assurance infuriated me and I suspected that you thought you were God’s gift to the gay universe. However, I will admit that when you helped me to my feet, after seeing off the two renegades who had attacked me that I saw a tiny touch of something in your ebony eyes. I’m not saying it was the sun, moon, stars or anything grandiose like that, but there was something, a reflection, a flicker of elemental recognition that thrilled me against my will.
I mumbled my gratitude as best I could through a cut and swollen mouth and declined your offer of first aid. I was fearful in case the tears I was fighting materialised properly and somehow emasculated me in your eyes.
Discreetly wiping my tears with your handkerchief and refusing to take no for an answer you led me back to the club and your private office. There you gently tended my injury and expressed regret for not managing to be quick enough to stop the punch from landing. There were traces of my blood on your fingers and I watched mesmerised as you raised them to your mouth and sucked them clean, seemingly relishing the taste.
The understudy doorkeeper requested your aid in turning away a group of belligerent teenagers who were objecting to being told they didn’t look eighteen and therefore were not going to be granted admission. Eighteen and not twenty-one was obviously the age limit. When you returned I glared at you and demanded an explanation immediately, if not sooner.
You calmly told me that you had deemed my date unsuitable and that bisexual faux vampire types were notoriously unreliable, emotionally draining and generally unsatisfactory. You claimed to have saved me from heartache and furthermore I was now free to go out with you, as was apparently my destiny. Your highhanded arrogance was astounding and I was not going to let it pass. My brain ordered my mouth to remonstrate with you. My mouth however was obviously in shock from the assault upon it and bypassed my brains instructions completely. Instead of remonstrating, it curiously enquired as to how in fact you did deal with little boys who were having a tantrum?
You gently caressed my jaw and said you had no doubt that I would find out in due course, and why didn’t we just leave it at that for now. Again I felt a shock of something, an angry rejecting accepting delicious arousal of a kind I’d never experienced. It was the way you looked at me, the way you held your body, the tone of your voice, your entire dominant persona.
You offered me tea. I said I preferred coffee, but you said tea was better for shock. I declined. A radio was playing in the office and as I carefully sipped at my tea and we talked, George Michael softly sang ‘The First Time Ever I saw Your Face.’ I somehow sensed that forever afterwards this would be our song.
You wouldn’t allow me to get a taxi home. You said you would drive me home when your duties were done. In the meantime you bade me lie down on the couch in the office and rest. I did so, but only after you took my cell phone and cancelled the taxi I was in process of calling. Tasting your finger you then stroked it across my lips, your spit stinging the cut there, almost like you were marking me. It was not unpleasant and again I experienced a strange arousal.
And the first time ever I kissed your mouth,
I felt the earth move through my hands.
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
that was there at my command…
I almost passed out from excitement the first time that our lips met and we kissed. Our tongues entwined and I softly moaned, as we tasted each other’s sweet saliva. The earth undoubtedly moved, though the only trembling and captive heart was mine. You were its captor. In that moment the sun really did rise in your eyes and I believed with conviction that the moon and stars were indeed gifts that you had personally given to the dark and endless sky.
As for command, you have it all, command of my heart, my trust, my loyalty and my body. I gave it to you freely and willingly. You will never need to take anything by force from me.
And the first time ever I lay with you,
I felt your heart so close to mine.
And I knew our joy would fill the earth,
And last till the end of time, my love…
With you as my mentor I learned the strength and power of willing submission. You helped me to transcend limits, push boundaries and conquer the dark territories of my inner self and emerge triumphant. You awakened unimagined sensuality in me, something that went far beyond physical sex, which I learned was simply a component of something much more profound and spiritual.
For our five-year anniversary today you presented me with a Victorian riding crop fashioned from ebony leather with a silver handle. Beautiful in itself I know it will become exquisite when in your hands. I will kneel bound at your feet and every stroke of the whip will be as bittersweet as a kiss from the lips of a vampire.
Domination and submission are two complimentary parts of one entity. One cannot exist without the other, they are lifeblood to each other and when united nothing can part them. Sometimes, my dearest love, I sincerely believe that I did dance with a vampire that night after all and in doing so I surrendered my soul completely. My spirit I retain. You like to push against it, to feel it push back and ultimately yield and that is my gift to you.
I know our joy will continue to fill the earth and last till the end of time and beyond, my love.
The End.
Lyrics: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face by Ewan MacColl
Copyright 2009 Fabian Black
