If you asked me to tell you when I became interested in vampire fiction, I don't know if I could tell you.
It's so woven into our cultural fabric at this point that it's simply impossible to pull a single influence that would impact a blossoming young teenager. Was it the gothic roots of Bram Stroker's classic? I sure as hell didn't read it when I was in school so that would lead me to ask if it was Christopher Lee's depiction, Gary Oldman's or the litany of others who had been sized up for the famous cape. Maybe it was Anne Rice's work? I was young enough when the movie adaptations came out. Perhaps a little too young for the nuance, but old enough to think Brad Pitt's Louis was kind of hot.
Heck, maybe it was the cartoons I grew up on. I've lost count of the number of times I've seen a protagonist get bitten by a vampire and cured by the end of the 22 minute run-time.
I can remember getting exceptionally squirmy in my cinema seat when I was watching Kate Beckinsale being unwillingly puppeted to dance during the third act of Van Helsing. Though that's hardly a formative memory. I was already predisposed to feel a flush of heat when I thought about how powerless she was in Vlad's embrace, how her body moved against her will, how he piloted her and could sink his teeth into her neck at any point... how utterly helpless she was...
I swear to you, sitting there in the cinema, flanked by my friends, I felt like the entire theatre was watching me watch that sequence. I thought somehow the scent of my arousal would overpower the sickly sweet aroma of spilled soda and fresh popcorn. Like at any moment my boyfriend of the time would just grab my knee to confirm he had seen how vulnerable I was and I'd be unable to choke back the needing whimper I felt.
Fortunately that was all in my head. I knew I was in the clear the moment we left the movie and everyone started mocking the film and arguing how stupid it was. I didn't think it was stupid. I hesitate to admit, I went to see it during an afternoon matinee when I didn't have class later that week so I could enjoy that sequence without the feeling of being watched.
Either the sequence wasn't as good as I remembered it or the feeling of being exposed and pinned to my chair just added to the thrill, because the repeat viewing was just not as fun.
Van Helsing may not have been a formative memory, but it was a catalyst. Something which turned an untended intrigue into a full-blown obsession.
I was in college at the time.
Free from family for the first time in my life and with enough free time that I could do whatever I wished.
My friends were a fan of the nightlife. Getting drunk, having sex, gossiping over the latest rumors.
Perhaps if I had different friends back then I wouldn't have been driven to the fringes and to the extremes. Somewhere there is a version of the world where I had a geeky group of friends who did tabletop on weekends and I got my kicks through a drip dose of fantasy to keep me going through the weeks, held up by genuine friendship and a thirst for inspiration and adventure.
Well, this is as good a time as any to write a formal introduction.
Let's call me Agatha, for reasons that will become obvious a little later. I am a deeply conditioned hypnoslut and it has been over 15 years since all of this happened. That leaves a lot of time for little anecdotes about how I turned from a sheltered little college girl who was terrified of being obviously aroused in a movie theatre into the woman who is typing this now. Someone who as recently as last week had to go from dry to orgasm in the span of an elevator ride at the office I work at.
It starts with a lot of hurt and heartbreak. But it does lead to beautiful things beyond the self-discovery.
If you're willing to sit with me for the ride then there are a lot of stories and I'll be as detailed as my sleepy hypnotized brain can be when I tell them. You'll get to hear how my budding flower pulsed with pleasure at the touch of the firm eyed dominant who clutched their hand to my gasping throat... y'know, if that's what you're in to. The bad news is that there's a lot of reality in them. I know, you clicked here looking for stroke material and here I am about to lay down some really crappy situations. If you want to bail out then please go ahead, I promise I won't be mad. I also won't know. So... thank you for enjoying my prologue. I hope you find the story that really resonates with you.
For those of you still willing to hear me out. Let's tell you the story of my first hypnotically charged relationship.
This is the story of how I joined the Court of Fangs.
It is also the story of how a woman named Nebula charmed my spirit and turned me into the mewling little toy that writes these words under her owner's command.
The Court of Fangs is a Live Action Roleplaying group in my city. Yes, they run off of the rules of a litigious group who write tabletop source books. I didn't know that back then and they weren't really upfront with it on their messageboards. From my perspective it was just a group of people who met up on certain dates, dressed in costume and acted out something which I found to be richly enticing.
The problem was, you needed to be vetted before they would reveal the location of the meet-ups.
The rules stated that you needed to be a forum member in good standing for over 50 posts and 3 weeks. You need to post in-character in the "overground" area. There were rules about character creation, one of which was that you were not allowed to "metagame" which is to say you could not play a character who knew that vampires were real or the rules of how they functioned.
A lot of steps to go to play a game of make-believe with some fully grown adults, but to a young woman in her early 20s it was all spice to the magic that was being sold.
I signed up under the name Agatha Primrose.
See, I told you the name would make sense.
I crafted the character Agatha to be a subversion of the normal vampire tropes. I simply hadn't considered making a character from a historic era and so wanted to make a modern day woman full of sunshine and rainbows be seduced by the kiss of immortality and have her soul erode upon the thirsts born of the night... something about the corruption angle just hit me really hard. I guess I was always destined to end up in the same pools as the hypnokinky, this just happened to be my in.
I'm not as saccharine or sweet as Agatha. I'm a little more reserved. More of a rich internal expression than an explosive outward one, if you catch what I mean? But I'd always fancied myself quite the imaginative lady and so the creative writing was a welcome outlet for me. Once I was signed up I entered the "overground" areas and started a thread.
I could copy and paste the full text but then you'd be here all day and I think you've been patient enough waiting for the point to all this preamble. But I'll post a snippet...
It was Friday night and to Agatha The Raventalon Foundation was just a regular nightclub. She was unaware that the majority of the clientele were there by invite only. Most by pets and servants looking to bring in fresh meat for their dark masters and mistresses, but some by the powerful creatures who lurked among the dancing figures like wolves in the woods, spying upon the lamb feast that grazed the open fields completely unaware of the danger which pressed against them.
Agatha was new to the big city, having just moved in from her suburban home to where the jobs lay. She had scored a position as an assistant to a Man With A Briefcase. The interview had gone well. Agatha was told she was the most promising candidate when the job was offered and she was able to put aside any notions that her more present attributes had landed her the job instead of her impressive resume or sparkling personality. But the thought lingered in the back of her mind.
Still, her day to day life within the office was pleasant. There were times she was sent out to deliver packages, collect coffee, print out documents... office work. Drone work. Simple work that any person with two braincells could do. The real task was to be a status symbol. For The Boss to wield her as a show of wealth and strength. If she stood meekly behind him during a meeting then all the underlings knew that he wielded enough financial capital to have a human who did all his menial tasks for him.
There was an unspoken thrill in that, Agatha had decided. She got to siphon off a little bit of her Boss' powerful aura by simply being a living amulet that added to it.
Had she have not held such an attitude towards being a literal human accessory, perhaps she could have been spared the life which would soon claim her. A life of darkness, of corruption and of regret.
She could have gone to any nightclub in the city. She could have gone to a concert hall or a sports bar or she could have just decided not to spend her weekend trying to throw her stress to the wind.
But she entered the Raventalon and sealed her fate.
Maybe that was more than a snippet, but it's 15 year old prose and I'm still proud of it. For the most part anyway, that wolves and lambs bit was a little on-the-nose and the segue from the present day scenes and the backstory were kind of clumsy. Though I'm seeing a little of that in what I'm writing here, so maybe it's just my style? Who knows.
More importantly, though, that opening post garnered me that which I truly craved. Attention.
The replies both in and out of character were rapid and positive. I even received DMs from established members who had unique titles under their usernames asking if they could take insert their lore into my intro-post. More than one had suggested that Agatha's boss be either a retainer of their vampire character or outright a vampire unto himself.
In hindsight I wish I had accepted Hagathur's invitation to have the boss be a vampire, his suggestion included vague allusions to the idea that she would be propelled to the nightclub by his hypnotic suggestion.
But instead I went with Nebula Kahn's suggestion that the boss be her retainer.
I was too inexperienced to know that this was actually a faux pas on behalf of Nebula's player. Not to get too into the nitty gritty of a defunct LARP system but Nebula was an embraced servant of Duke Grayson, one of the admins of the board. She made that offer without permission. I'm told it caused a little bit of an argument behind the scenes, but that's not really part of my story.
What is part of my story is that in a single post I had willed into existance this web of connections between all these different people who suddenly viewed me as fresh meat and wanted to claim possession of me. That is to say there were characters who wanted to possess Agatha. But the unspoken was also true. These people wanted my writing. They wanted my concepts. They wanted me to belong to them.
The first day of posts and replies I was warmed, I was feeling genuinely welcomed and encouraged. Then the DMs came and I started getting a little stressed out. I had no mentor to lean on and didn't think to send a message to the admins and moderators for guidance. The third day I felt completely vulnerable, exposed and like my every decision and action would have ramifications.
On Duke and Nebula's recommendation, I was only allowed to write back-story for my intro post but the fiction of my boss being a human working with the vampire clans allowed me to have Agatha be sent to visit brooding mansions after dark to deliver packages or addressed by an overly familiar person who also worked for the clan during the daytime. When I started I was just making things up as I went along hoping I could post myself in the club and have an encounter. Instead I was dragged into crafting an all too rich backstory and become interwoven with the clan's politics before even knowing vampires were real.
I will admit to you, reader, knowing what I know now? A horny little attention starved 20 year old about to pour out some of her sexual frustration into a roleplaying game for one of her fantasies being played out in front of her? I was hooked. The attention, the sensation of feeling wanted, of being reduced to prey that was fought over like a piece of meat?
My only regret is that they would only let me know the location of the meet-ups after 3 weeks of vetting. But when I received the invite from Duke himself, oh how my heart swam.
From: Duke Grayson
To: Agatha Primrose
OOC: The group are excited to get to meet you. I recommend when you get access to the underground segments you read the threads this week, You get discussed a little. Just don't meta.
If you're okay with it, Neb's player and I wanted to ask if you were okay with it being a surprise encounter. Like you go to the location on game night and we find you in the crowd? If that's too much and you'd rather start OOC then that's cool. Neb just brought up the idea of making your first event immersive.
The idea was that I go to the bar, which is a real place that people visit and go drinking in and a member of the LARP party would find me on the public floor and recruit me and pull me behind the velvet rope to the private event room. In other words I was being asked if I wanted to roleplay Agatha's seduction on the dancefloor as she is courted by the vampires.
I admit, only a 20 year old version of myself could have gone along with it and only a person without any concept of safety and boundary would have suggested it.
But I was 20 at the time...
And Nebula... was Nebula.
I answered Duke that I was indeed up for diving in the deep end. I would go to the venue, I would order a drink and I would let myself be picked up by a random stranger in the bar with haunting eyes and fangs perhaps just a little too pronounced.
I still to this day remember how vividly I fantasized about that moment. Drunk on the fiction and wanting to not only blur the line between reality and fantasy but outright demolish it, I wasted the week doing two things. Imagining Duke from his posts, so powerful and fierce claiming me as the piece of meat that I had written Agatha being so proud of presenting herself as... and refreshing myself on the rules.
See, the LARP required a lot of familiarity with the rules. Most physical abilities like the ability to leap extraordinarily high or punch through stone just didn't come up during the play settings. They were reserved for the forum based game between "diplomatic meetings" where the different clans gathered at the bar to discuss ---whatever this month's storyline was.
But social skills? Mesmerizing eyes, awe inspiring auras, psychic invasions? They could be done quite handily in a public setting, so long as the players all new the words used to indicate that they were in effect.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my first triggers were plucked out of the rulebook of a vampire LARP. Of course, I did not yet know the concept of triggers and even when I did pick them up, I didn't realize you could train a reaction to them without formal hypnosis. I've come a long way.
That is a lot of prologue for how I came to meet and date Nebula Kahn, the first person to bewitch my brain and train me to orgasm on command.
It was Saturday night and to my eyes, the Wily Coyote bar was not just a regular bar. It was quite theatrical in fact. The outside of the building was painted with skulls and tophats that made it look like it belonged in a New Orleans caricature more than a downtown cityscape. The interior was all black, Silver and mirrors. Dimly lit but not to the point of blindness.
I was decked out in office attire, the fanciest I could afford from the thrift store. I had decided that the bubbly Agatha was an office drone then she should look like she just come off of an evening running errands for the unfortunately named Jeeb.
I swear to god I did not come up with that name. It was neither Neb or Duke.
Regardless, Jeeb only existed in fiction. Duke and Neb, as I would learn that night, were astonishingly brought to life by a pair of dedicated players who I will only refer to by their character names for the remainder of this story.
Now, I was worried I'd walk in there looking like I'd come off of my 9-to-5 and be too formal for the venue. Turns out I actually wasn't trying hard enough. Everyone was decked to the nines inside that place. It was a concept bar that really played to the goth and steampunk crowds.
Remember in the early 2000s where steampunk was just everywhere for a bit?
Either way I had never seen so much flowing fabric. Even the seated patrons looked like their outfits were kinetic.
I sat and ordered myself a vodka tonic. Some liquid courage to get me through my first real event.
And then I started crowd watching.
My mind trailed back to that dumb wolves and lamb analogy I'd made in my intro post a month before. Back then it was all fun and games, a little rich fantasy where a coddled and repressed little girl could imagine a powerful being that could take her and pilot her like Kate Beckinsale. Ignore her judgment, her survival instincts, her needs, her desires. Ignore her personage and just sink its teeth into her core and find the pleasure filled yearning from within...
But I was there, then. Sitting in a bar which smelled of used up incense and was flooded with the bass-fueled rumble of emo rock and I was scared.
I was scared.
Any person in this place could have been scanning the crowd looking for me. I had written myself to become the lamb from my own analogy. I was prey and everything about the past month was a honey laced signal flare which made me a target.
My stomach knotted. I no longer felt safe.
To the credit of the hobby and other admins, Duke and Nebula had said they would meet with me and introduce me to the clans. From their perspective there was nothing odd about this.
Normally a new player is met before they enter the bar, run over the rules and brought in with a scenario agreed in mind.
But I'd signed a contract to have consent discussions, preparation and warnings removed from the table. I had signed up to be prey. Allowing two predators to claim me.
God hindsight is a bitch.
"Agatha Primrose? Is that you?"
In that moment I was snatched from my moment of pure panic by a high pitched voice with a prim and proper tone. A very regal looking woman with pale brown skin and hair the color of burned up ash that still clings to life. Salt and pepper with an extra helping of salt, if you catch my drift.
My mouth just flopped uselessly open making the best first impression I've ever had with someone I'd eventually end up nailing. To her credit I caught the flicker of kayfabe being broken. An uncertainness which teased the horrifying concept that she had approached the wrong person. I can only imagine how torturous that moment was for her.
"...Nebula...?" I tested, not really sure if I should be answering as myself or my character. At least for the moment.
Nebula confirmed her identity by breaking into a broad smile which she quickly suppressed into a cruel smirk. I vividly remember how awkward it all began. Like each of us had prepared mentally for this exciting concept but were all completely unprepared to really meet a new person as if we were all our characters.
She turned and flagged someone down. I just starred perplexed, which was very in character for the moment.
Nebula was wearing a long coat, the likes of which the Matrix sequels had made extra popular and the most impressive heels I'd ever seen in my life. It was all I could do to break character and ask for fashion advice.
"And there she is."
For the rest of my life I will never forget how fucking hard it was for me not to break down laughing right there and then at his drawling and powerful Southern accent. Obviously as fake as anything else that we did and I felt myself dry up like a desert the moment I heard it. But you know what it did do?
It cured me of my terror in the moment.
And it left me vulnerable for what happened next.
He took a seat to my side while Nebula stood vigil behind him, much like I'd described Agatha doing for her boss in my posts. He snatched my drink and ran the rim under his nose and breathed in theatrically. To this day I have never met another human being as flamboyantly extraverted as Duke Grayson. The man's charm and presence demanded that you either follow along with the fiction or reject it outright. You could not go half-measure with this man.
"Mighty fine drink you got there, sug. Not quite what I'd have reckoned you for. I likened you more as a dame fixing more for a Sangria or the likes."
He reached over and grasped my shoulder making quite the show of curling one finger at a time.
Okay, so that shit got me wet again. The man had just intruded on my space, taken my drink and was making quite the possessive show of grabbing my shoulder. I pride myself at being quite the actor but I sincerely didn't need to try.
"Y'all look perplexed..."
That fucking accent. I honestly would have been happier if he just did an impression of The Count from Sesame Street and ended every sentence with a rich "BLEEEEH".
But that's why the physical performance needs such attention. Can you even fathom how much presence this person must have exuded to be respected in this group in spite of the voice?
Plus you get used to it. Especially when surrounded by everyone else's quirks.
"Well don't you mind none, cuz I'm going to do you a favor and introduce myself so you don't have to no more go grasping in the dark hoping you can remember this unforgettable face from a meeting or what have you."
He planted my drink down and used the now free hand to cup my chin between his thumb and index finger. I straight up gasped out. It was the weak mewl of someone who was accepting they were helpless and I legitimately can not tell you if it was in or out of character.
"Well, you are presentable." he mused, "Certainly a bonus if I ever saw one..."
My lip trembled. I swallowed so clearly that I think the gulping sound carried over the My Chemical Romance, I stammered, trying to find language when this odd man had stolen them from me.
Remember, kids. Discuss your safe words before entering a scene.
"Little bit of fight to you, but not much..." he continued, kneading my shoulder with the familiarity of a person I had not just met. "I can see why y'all are so interested..."
"Master, if I may...?" I heard Nebula ask, barely at the edge of my perceptions... I may have ignored the comment entirely if not for the memorable reply...
"You may NOT." it was so bold. So firm. And this impressive looking woman just recoiled and shrunk back. I think I bit my lip.
"And you..." Duke added, returning his attention to me. "May be look into my eyes... find your will fading away.--- that lil' bit of fight, let me see that dance away from the fire in your eyes as you succumb to my power. Mesmerize."
That last word he whispered like the most seductive hushed secret that had ever left the lips of a caricatured stereotype. It was important to say because the rules dictated that I was now under his mental command. There are rules to fight back, sure. But humans don't get a choice. Humans are meat. Humans obey.
So. Scene setting time.
You have a 20 year old blonde whose entire brain has been turned into keysmash by the charisma and predatory forward behavior of a clearly immoral character actor who has a grip on your chin, eyes pinning you down and another hand anchoring you to the chair.
He has seductively told you to look into his eyes and find your thoughts slipping away.
Your conscious mind is reeling from the fight or flight of the entire affair and he's been kneading your shoulder so long that you had forgotten that he was doing it.
And he yanks you forward with his Mesmerize command and tilts your chin back so your eyes do not leave his.
I said before that my first triggers were just spells from a LARP game?
15 years on and I still couldn't tell you if the man had utilized a textbook Ericksonian instant induction on me or if he was just so in character that I couldn't help but get pulled along.
But I was pulled along.
Nebula was watching the entire thing.
If between my thighs was a river then I promise you that between hers was a god damned tsunami.
"Your mouth just hung open. There was drool and everything! Your shoulders hunched back. Your legs sprawled outwards like your entire weight was being held by his grip on your chin. But it was your eyes, Aggie. Your eyes were just wet and wobbly. Glistening like you were on LSD or something. Your eyelids fluttered and I swear I saw a tear roll down one of your cheeks. It was like your entire aura had just got drained. Like you were terrified, on guard, rigid and alert and then--- he just emptied you."
Nebula's description was really vivid. See, she fell in love with me right there and then. As you'll come to learn. I may not have been a hypnofetishist back then but she sure as hell was and she had just watched her vampire lord hypnotize the fuck out of a hot blonde who was going along with it so well that if it wasn't real then it may as well have been.
"There you are, much better. Tame and docile. Just like the prey should be."
I honest to god whimpered at that. Like inhibitions drained, I was having all my hot vampire dreams come true and Duke wasn't an unattractive guy. Hell, I thought I was straight back then. If he had tried to take me home after the event I'd have been up for it.
"Now tell me, sweet thing. Are y'all Agatha Primrose or does my little Nebula need to calm her horses?"
There was no way such a question was intended for out of character time. Whether it the fantasy hypnosis or my will to play along, I did just what the situation required and played along.
I slurred in a productive attempt at sounding like a thrall.
"I am Agatha Primrose."
The hand on my shoulder reached around to my hair and balled into a fist, tugging me back so he could lean in closer, showing off one of his fake fangs.
My god I should have negotiated this scene better. None of this was green in a safe, sane and consensual world. I almost feel ashamed of how hot I found it.
"Not in public, Duke. Let's take her underground."
To this day I do not know how much Duke would have 'toyed with his food' so to speak or if Nebula would have intervened if she didn't have designs on me even that early... but he did back off and compel me to rise and follow, which I obediently did. I still maintain I was not actually in trance but Nebula insists I was and well--- when we were together, her word was law. It's actually why we're not together anymore.
So if my recollection of this sequence is a little jarred then it's only because it's the formative seed of a fetish gemmating in two minds who both desperately want to prune it and raise it to be the ultimate shining example of why all the insanity that followed was worth it.
Regardless, I did not raise my arms up and walk like one of the hypnosis victims from Dead and Loving It, and trust me Nebula did try to make me believe that once, but I did sway drunkenly and hold on to Duke's sleeve with the lightest feather touch.
From there I was taken backstage and introduced to the other clans. And if this were a story about how I came to play in a roleplaying game and about the friendships and storylines we all crafted in the 15 months I was a member of the group--- then I'd take the time to introduce them and the storyline that was happening that month.
But this is the story about how I get off to people starring me down while dangling pocket watches in front of my eyes...
So I guess I'll have to leave you all hanging for the real story.
Nebula and I.
The in character posts we made before I arrived at the Wily Coyote, the day she asked me out, the fucked up games we used to play and the lines she crossed that lead me to leave her.
Don't worry though. I already said. It's 15 years later and I still jill off to spirals. I'm in a better place and have better people around me and on a long enough timeline I can tell you all about them too.
The planeride to Baltimore in 2017 is especially worth sticking around for.