"You're a very pretty boy, Sam. I think I just want to watch you."

He stirred, becoming aware that he was lying on the couch. There was a touch on his face, a hand momentarily covering his eyes and his forehead.

"I'm not here… Shhh..." Her voice was hushed, almost a whisper.

Sam sighed and frowned. His head felt fuzzy and his memory was blurred. Why was he lying on the couch? What time was it? He sat up and took a few deep breaths, fighting the dizziness that made him queasy. Maybe he should eat something.

He stumbled over to the kitchen counter and reached into the fridge for the bottle of juice. Some sugar would help. Puzzled, he noticed that the bottle cap was missing. Then he remembered how Audrey had stood here, drinking from the bottle. Her lipstick was still on the bottle. He tried to swallow down his fear of her, but it was like she was everywhere. On the bathroom mirror, inside his fridge… He put the bottle back and took out an energy drink, opened it and quickly took some large gulps from it.

For a moment, it seemed like he heard someone giggling, but that must have been his imagination. There was no one else in his apartment, he cleaned the living room and made the bed without seeing anyone. And it couldn't have been Mrs Kampers giggling, he could never hear her through the walls. He put his hands down his pants to make his erection more comfortable as he drank from the can.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked at it. The screen still showed the video Audrey had sent him this afternoon and for a moment, he stared into space thinking of her, his breath quickening. Fear clenched his throat shut and the muscles in his neck and jaw tensed up. He remembered how earlier today he yearned for her touch and her voice. He didn't know what to feel anymore. Was he glad or sad that she wasn't here with him?

The screen lit up with another message from her. Sam saved the number to his phone. Audrey. As if that made her more tangible somehow. The message contained another link to a music video and he cast it on the tv as he took a cold sausage from his fridge and scarfed it down. He thought for a moment he could hear another giggle but he must have misheard that. Or it was just the opening notes of the song. It started with jazzy drums and a bass, and then a woman's voice talk-singing in sultry tones. There was no video, just a blurry picture of a blonde woman looking straight into the camera, straight into his soul. He tried to drink some more but the lyrics drew him in.

"I think now that if I try, if I try, if I concentrate hard enough, I can change myself into something else." Her voice was so smooth, almost liquid. "Then I'll be able to pour myself into this wire. Travel across these lines and find my way to you. Or maybe there's another trick, another spell. And I could change you. And I'd draw you to me, pull you to me. Crawl to me."

Sam dropped the can to the floor as he felt a surge of… Adrenaline? Arousal? He tried to catch his breath, he felt so hot and sweaty. He reached for his shirt collar, but it was already open. When his fingers brushed the left side of his neck, he noticed that the mark was throbbing with every heartbeat. There was that giggling again... Another dizzy spell came over him as he looked around the room.

"Are you there?" He asked the empty room, feeling apprehensive. But his heart beat in his throat and his breathing wouldn't slow down. "Are you watching me?"

"I'm always watching you."

A moment of weakness came over him and he steadied himself with his hand on the back of the couch because his knees gave out. His mouth opened and he replied: "You're always watching me." He massaged his forehead. What was happening to him?

Despite the music on the tv, he now heard a different voice from the bedroom, a voice he recognised all too well. "Crawl to me."

Without really understanding why, he went down on his knees right there on the floor. His breathing slowed and it was hard to keep his eyes open. As if in a trance, he put his hands down on the floor and started to crawl towards the bedroom.

"Yes, good. You delicious boy." Her voice sounded delighted and turned on.

His cheeks burned and his raging hardon was intensely uncomfortable in his pants. But he couldn't stop crawling, he was helpless. When he made it across the threshold into the bedroom, he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, as if bracing for impact.

A foot pressed against his shoulder and pushed him into a more upright position. Fuck, she smelled amazing. But he didn't dare open his eyes.

"Get up, Sam." Her voice almost lifted him off the floor. "I want you."

As he rose to his feet, his hands opened his shirt to bare his neck and his face turned away. She was so close to him now and he couldn't look at her. With bated breath, he opened his mouth to speak. "Please, Sire…"

"What do you want, sweet boy?" Her arms wrapped around him and her hand firmly grabbed his butt.

"Please, I can't take this…" He wished he could move his arms, but they were stuck there, holding his shirt open. And somewhere inside, he didn't know whether he wanted to push her away, or pull her in closer.

She clicked her tongue at him. "No, that's not what you want. Try again."

He shuddered and licked his lips. "Please release me, Sire." That's what he wanted to say. He wanted out. Away. Something else than this agonising suspense.

"That's not it either." She laughed at him. "I'm not going to give it to you until you tell me what you want. So try again." Her hand slapped him on the butt and then stroked up to hold him so excruciatingly close.

Breathing heavily, Sam tried to think what she wanted to hear him say. Why didn't she just make him say it like she had done before? He groaned at that thought. There was no way out, no way to resist. "Please…" He tried to swallow, but a drip of drool escaped the corner of his mouth. His voice turned so small when the words finally came out of his mouth. "I want to surrender to you."

"Good boy." Her embrace pulled him in closer and that unbelievable combination of pain and pleasure ripped through him again as she sank her fangs into his neck and drank from him. His body shook as he lost all control of his limbs. Her embrace was holding him up now. Strange colours played across his vision making the room undulate. 

"Please... stop..." He grunted. And he fell to the floor as she let go of him and retreated to the bed. He sat on his hands and knees, out of breath and unable to focus his eyes.

"Now what?" She asked him. "Is this what you want?"

He coughed, trying and failing to make his voice less hoarse. "No…"

She laughed scornfully. "Maybe I don't ask for what you want because you can't make up your bloody mind."

"This can't go on." He finally looked up at her piercing eyes and shook his head. "You can't keep doing this to me."

"Why not? It's so much fun." She licked her lips, showing off her long fangs and the traces of blood still on them.

"I can't take this anymore." His arms trembled, he had trouble even holding himself up to look at her.

"Then surrender." She said with a smile. "It's what you want."

He took a deep breath and managed to sit up on his knees, looking at her. For a moment, he hugged himself and that calmed him. And then he whispered to her: "I want to surrender."

She blinked at him with a smug grin on her lips. "I told you so."