Evil Is a Man

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you like what you're reading, let me know: SellarDhor@gmail.com. And let me know where you want the story to go and who you want Jake to end up with. And if you have any ideas for the future, let me know, I might include them.

FEBRUARY 19th

"Take a look at this," said Maxim, one of his broad smiles on his face. Unlike me in my pajamas, he had come to breakfast dressed in a nice suit.

We were having a breakfast in a more intimate dining room that faced the lake. Snow was falling in the morning light, looking very peaceful and romantic. And our shared breakfast was splendid.

He pushed the morning newspaper across the table to me, something that looked like a preserved relic from the late 19th century, only it had today's date on it. He showed me the black and white, picture on the front page of a circus tent, with an accompanying headline.

"'Champion Fire Dueler, Zhora Zonov, to appear tonight in what is being billed as his toughest fight yet. Klavdia Arefyev is being brought out of a two decade retirement to fight this rising star champion. Can she prevail against a man who has decimated all the other fighters in the city? To commemorate this occasion, Tsar Kirill Petrov will make a rare appearance at the Fire Tents to publically root on his most skilled member of his Decency Police, Zhora Zomov.' Decency Police? So, this guy is another cold-blooded murderer."

"Exactly," Maxim said. "And my father never makes public appearances like that."

"I wonder what's making him change that habit."

"I don't have to wonder, I know exactly. The Fire Duels are the biggest events in the city, and its proprietors always make a killing. His appearance tonight is far less about showing support to one of his men than it is to pocket an unspeakable amount of money, let me assure you. But I think we just made the whole acceptance into the Bourgeoisie an obsolete strategy. I've got to go to work today, but I'm going to pick you up later on for a fun evening watching men try to burn each other to death. If you were squeamish watching the fencing matches, wait until you see tonight's performances."

"Just my idea of entertainment. But this says it's not open to Proletariat."

"Which is why I'll have to sneak you in. Do try to learn as many of those rules today as you can so you don't accidentally stomp on anymore today."

"I will."

"And I'm going to have my tailor, the finest one in the city, pay you a visit and get you outfitted for a suit."

"No, I don't want you spending money like that on me, Maxim. I can just wear one of yours again."

"My suits are much too large for you, and make you stand out. We can't have that tonight. No, it's not up for debate. You listen to your Aristocrat Sponsor, he always knows best."

"Even when he is trying to get me to accept an intimate rub-down in my bed at night?"

"Especially then." He laughed his trademark big-bellied laugh again.

After Maxim left for work, I spent the morning doing a crash study job of the one hundred and fifty rules I needed to abide by that evening. The tailor came in mid-day with a suit Maxim had picked out for me. He took my measurements, and then told me he would have the suit delivered in a couple hours.

In the afternoon, I put the fencing suit I had bought from Alik for the first time, went into the Portrait Hall, and practiced on my own on Maxim's platform. Even though Maxim had insisted I didn't need to practice anymore, I figured I wouldn't tell him about it, and the truth was, it was a different feeling from sharing a suit with Maxim, and I wanted to get used to the real feel.

As evening approached, I took a shower and then discovered not one suit waiting for me but five. Maxim was way too generous with me.

That's what I was chastising him for when I got in his stagecoach that night and the two of us were whisked away.

"You know, you have a very odd way of showing gratitude," he teased.

"I'm very grateful, Maxim, but that doesn't make this any less inappropriate. You do know that all this money you're spending on me isn't going to make me anymore likely to sleep with you? I'm not one of those pathetic souls who find rich guys more attractive than poor guys."

"Good heavens, you aren't one of those souls who find guys with money to be less attractive? Something told me you're not that prejudiced."

"No, money won't influence me either way."

"Well then, it will be ever sweeter if you ever do decide to sleep with me that I know you'll be doing it out of your own physical desire for me and not because of my possessions or standings."

"Yes, it would be, but the operative would in your statement was `if.'"

"If is an endlessly hopeful word."

We ended up traveling just a short while before we came to the largest, most grand circus tent I had ever seen, tucked into the city's buildings. I realized very quickly that it wasn't made of cloth at all, but actually some sort of dark-brown metal. It was clearly a permanent structure, with multiple spires, all if its architectural lines lit up by strings of large, electric light bulbs.

There was a line at the entrance as people waited to go through security, and Maxim and I waited through the line.

"Identifications, please," the guard asked us finally.

"Identifications, please, my lordship," Maxim corrected, adopting an air of importance that I only rarely saw on him. "You're addressing your future Tsar, here."

"My apologies, my lordship, I didn't notice it was you there. Come on through. But your guest, I'll need his Bourgeoisie ID."

"I swear he's Bourgeoisie. Please don't insult me further by making my dear companion fish his ID out of his pocket while good seats are being taken as you waste our time."

"No, my lordship. You are allowed in. But no weapons are permitted inside, so if you have any swords or firearms, you'll need to check them here."

"We don't have any."

As soon as we were past security, I whispered, "Nice one!"

"Well, that kind of bullying would never have worked with any guards on my father's payroll. We got lucky this place hires their own guards."

I noticed right away that the interior of the Fire Tents were heated, which made a pleasant change from the constant outside snow. The place had the look and feel of a very fancy circus, with everything lit by dozens of strings of lights. There was stadium seating around the center of the tent, with about four times as large a capacity as the Sword Gardens had been, which clearly showed that fire dueling was the more popular spectator sport. But unlike the seating at something similar, like a modern boxing match, every seat was installed with a folding food tray, and well-dressed servers were walking around taking food orders and delivering drinks. The match had not started yet.

Maxim picked us out excellent seats in the crowd. "Where is the Tsar sitting?" I asked, looking around amongst the numerous other people.

"In that box over there," said Maxim, pointing to a box filled with Decency Police. "Only he hasn't arrived yet. Knowing how much he reviles all things the least bit entertaining, he'll probably arrive the last possible second. Here, I hope you brought your appetite." He handed me a menu.

"As long as I can find something besides nachos and chilidogs, then yes." I said, knowing how much I reviled the typical sporting event food. "Otherwise I'll just stick with peanuts."

"I'm afraid none of those delicacies are on the menu. I think you'll find dinner here to be very refined."

"Though expensive, it looks like."

"It's on me."

"I feel guilty having you pay for me all the time."

"Like I said, paying for you is my duty as your sponsor. If you complain about silly notions like guilt, then you risk putting that sponsorship's validity in question."

"Fine, I'll keep my feelings to myself then," I said, looking around to make sure no one else was close enough to overhear us. "I think I'll have the turkey spaghetti."

"I wouldn't," said Maxim. "The chefs here butcher all things Italian."

"What about the Coq au Vin?"

"Listen, when the chefs here told the hiring managers they were experienced doing French and Italian, they must have been referring to something a lot more fun than cooking. No, stick to the local cuisine, please."

"I'll just have whatever you're having, assuming it is something decently healthy."

"Right, I know just the thing."

A server came, and Maxim put in our orders, and I noticed that the stands were looking almost all filled up.

There was an orchestra pit under the stage, and the orchestra started to play a rousing number. A man dressed as a circus master took the stage to much applause, and the music stopped. He introduced the purpose of the evening with much exciting fanfare, building up the two main fighters of the evening, the champion Decency Police officer even more so, and of course mentioning that the Tsar was currently on his way into the building.

"As is customary for all of our fights, before the main event, we give people in the audience the opportunity to volunteer the chance to entwine their fate with that of the famous champion. Who will be brave enough to volunteer now, ladies and gentlemen? Think about what a memory you'll create to be able to tell your children that you fought against the best fire dueler in the world."

"I'll volunteer," said a vampire in the audience, raising his hand.

"Yes, excellent, give the brave man the applause he deserves."

The man made his way from the place he was seated to floor.

"Alright, brave sir, what is your name?"

"I'd prefer to remain anonymous."

"Mr. Anonymous, then, please draw a card from my hand and read the name of the event we'll be playing first tonight." I suddenly had bad flashbacks to the rodeo events I had been forced to play.

The man drew a card. "Barrels of death," he said.

"Barrels of death, ladies and gentlemen! How thrilling!"

Steel machines started to pull up two heavy wooden barrels from an opening in the floor as the orchestra played music straight out of a thriller.

"Sounds deadly!" I said, anxious.

"Don't be fooled by the name," said Maxim. "This is by far the least exciting of all the events. I'd wanted you to start with something real exciting, like the poles. If watching this event bores you to sleep, feel free to lean against my shoulder."

"And now, to introduce our champion. Zhora Zonov, your adoring fans await you. Please take the stage."

The orchestra played a stirring theme as Zhora was lifted on a central platform into the stadium dramatically. And his many fans did go wild. He was dressed in one of the Decency Police uniforms, tight enough to show off his muscles. The circus master had him shake hands with the challenger.

"Is it just me, or is Zhora badly pretending not to know his challenger?"

"No, I think you're right on," said Maxim. "Especially since the challenger had come suspiciously prepared in a fire-retardant suit, I can see. I used to compete in these matches all the time, and that's one little piece that they don't tell you about. In order to stretch out the evening's run time, they often have another fire dueler ready to volunteer planted in the audience. It gives the champion fighter a chance to warm up, figuratively and literally."

Our food and wine came, and it was of course excellent. Once again, Maxim took special pleasure seeing me take my first bites along with him.

The champion and challenger each took their position on the tops of their large barrels. The barrels were lifted off the ground by underground poles then, until the men were a good fifteen feet off the ground, making it easier for all to see them.

"Let the fire dueling begin!" said the man, and a loud bang of the drums signaled the dramatic start to the event.

"How does one win?" I asked.

"By being the first to knock his opponent onto the ground."

"So, one of them will jump onto the other's barrel and wrestle him off?"

"No, they aren't allowed to leave their own barrels. There is no physical contact in this event. All attacks are fire based."

The challenger started to breathe fire right onto the champion, hitting him in the face, and I winced and looked away. "That's just brutal."

"Don't turn away so soon," Maxim laughed. "All fanged Petrov Blood vampires have a very high tolerance for fire. How could they not, with the ability they have? Otherwise, their lips would be melting off every time they used their power."

And it was true; as I looked back towards the duel, I could see that the challenger's fire breath wasn't doing the least bit of damage to Zhora. In fact, it didn't even seem to be damaging the man's fire resistant police uniform.

Finally, Zhora opened his mouth and emitted a huge blast of fire directed at the challenger's feet, enough to make the crowd burst into applause.

"How come his fire seems so much stronger?" I asked.

"Partially because he's a much stronger vampire, but also partly because fire is something that we can charge up and make stronger. We can blow it endlessly, like the challenger is doing, which will provide continuous flame at a low level of heat. Or, we can charge up the power by keeping our mouths shut for a while, then blasting out a much larger, hotter fire."

"If he knows his fire is so weak, why not stop and give his power some time to charge?"

"Because that's not what he's been told to do, certainly," said Maxim. "And look at this. Everyone who had ever seen this played before would know attempting a direct assault on an opponent who can't be hurt with fire is pointless. Look at what Zhora is doing instead."

"He's targeting the feet of the challenger. Oh, I see. He's igniting the wooden barrel, isn't he?"

"Right, if it was you in his shoes, wouldn't you go for the one thing that can be damaged the quickest?"

As we watched Zhora continue to char his opponent's barrel and eat our dinner, I asked, "So, if you used to fight these fire duels, how come you finally quit? Were you defeated by a champion like Zhora?"

"No, I was never defeated," said Maxim. "Actually, I quit dueling after I found out I was a special a few decades ago."

I thought of his ability to control fire. "Because you realized it would give you an unfair advantage?"

"That, and I didn't want anyone, especially not my father, to learn about my ability." I felt honored that he was sharing that with me.

"Why did it take so long for you to learn you were a special?"

"Because I'm just an idiot, I suppose. When I was a young child in the 1880's, I used to sit around with my twin sister, trying to figure out our special powers any way we could. Our dear, caring mother, who single-handedly raised us, told us that we knew my sister was a special since she was fanged. And since my father was a special, my mother believed that I too would be one. But no amount of experimenting with my sister ever led us to discover any powers, and in my case, everyone just assumed I was actually just a normal vampire."

"Wait, before you say anything else, I have to interrupt you in order to ask about your father. He's a special? Please tell me what his special power is before my ignorance leads to my undoing."

"It's nothing scary, really," he said. "He has an instinctual understanding of the brain. He's been asked to perform lifesaving brain surgery for some of the important figures that have occurred brain damage over the years when none of our surgeons can do anything to help them. All he has to do is put his hands on a person's head, and he can sense any internal injuries without even seeing any of it. But don't mistake my father's seemingly boyscout special ability for a sign that he's gentle. I can't help that my power can be deadly, while his power is to heal, he's still the villain of the story."

"I don't doubt that," I said, giving him a brief rundown of Giggles as the challenger's barrel started to make groaning, crackling sounds, as if it would soon collapse.

And that's exactly what happened, the barrel became so charred that it buckled under the challenger's weight. As it disintegrated beneath him, he fell to the ground, where he looked to be fine.

Everyone cheered for the champion and there came victorious music from the symphony. The circus master came out and rained down appreciation on Zhora. "Anyone else want to challenge Zhora before we move to the main event?" he asked. "Nope? All right then," he said, not really waiting long enough to give someone time to think about volunteering.

"No one has the balls so do it," said Zhora.

"I'll do it!" said Maxim, standing up out of his seat and waving his arm. "I volunteer."

"You can't be serious!" I snapped at him.

"You know my weakness, Jake."

"But everyone will see you're a special," I said.

"Not if I concentrate on not using my ability," he whispered to me. "I promise not to use it at all. Besides, I just can't stand to not take this arrogant Decency Police asshole down a notch." Before I could say anything else, he was running down towards the stage.

"Did I hear something?" asked the circus master, clearly annoyed at this unexpected turn of events.

"I'll fight Zhora," yelled Maxim as he ran down onto the stage, all swagger.

"Ah, Knyaz Maxim has volunteered. Are you sure about this, my liege? No one would call you a coward if you changed your mind."

"Nope, my mind is set. Let me draw one of those cards."

"Right." The circus master gathered up his cards and lifted them out for him.

Maxim drew one. "Rings of Fire."

"Rings of Fire!" yelled the circus master, finally recovering from the unexpected and getting back to being his melodramatic self. As he said it, the orchestra started to play appropriately doom-filled music.

Machinery pulled the barrels out of the stage and lowered a huge panel from the ceiling. I could see a couple dozen rings hanging from this panel.

After the circus master made the two men shake hands with mutual sneers on their faces, they took their spots on raised platforms on the two opposite ends of the stage, and everyone in the audience craned their necks up to watch the proceedings above.

"Let the fire dueling begin!"

The vampires both grabbed rings above them as the platforms beneath them dropped out as the orchestra played exciting music. The hanging rings were mostly spread out so far from each other that it would take quite a lot of swinging to get between them, and as soon as they started hanging on their mutual rings, I could see them both start to swing their bodies back and forth, trying to create momentum.

Looking at all the rings in the course, I realized that they seemed to be laid out not at random but almost like a maze. The vampires weren't anywhere close enough at the moment to breathe fire on each other. In order to move forward into the course, they had a choice of moving down the center, on the outside left, or on the outside right. Theoretically, if one was fast enough, he could constantly avoid their adversary and the two would never meet. Of course, no one would ever win that way.

Maxim was the first to build to enough momentum to grab another ring, and he used his left hand to grab a hold of one on the outside left side. I looked into Maxim's eyes, and gone was the kind, sensual, funny man I knew. In his place was a hard, angry man that I hadn't even glimpsed during his sword duel. His dislike for Zhora was all over his entire body.

Right away, Zhora grabbed his first ring, coming down the middle.

Maxim was faster at moving through the course, but only just barely, and I realized it was purely because he had a good strategy: instead of just letting go of the ring he was leaving as he moved to the next one, he held onto it for a moment and used it to push himself in the other direction and help him swing.

As they each made their way halfway across, they were as close to each other as they ever were, just separated by several meters, but there weren't any other rings between them they could grab, so it looked like they wouldn't be able to do anything but continue on. Instead, Zhora started to swing his ring sideways, clearly trying to get as close to Maxim as he could.

Once he worked up a full swing, bringing them closer together than ever, both the men opened their mouths for the first time and emitted streams of fire in the direction of their opponent, only instead of aiming straight ahead, they both aimed too high for some reason.

Maxim lifted his hand up and blocked Zhora's fireball from going over his head, though at the time, why he bothered to block in this manner made no sense to me.

Zhora didn't think to block Maxim's fireball, and it ended up landing right on the rope above him. The audience grasped the significance of this before I did, gasping as the rope caught fire. I realized then that these rings were meant to burn.

Zhora made a quick, adept move to jump to the ring to his left just before the ring he was on disintegrated and fell off. But that actually put him a little bit closer to Maxim.

Maxim responded by swinging towards Zhora and sending out another fireball towards the rope above him. But this time, Zhora used Maxim's own move against him as he deflected the fireball with his free hand, saving his rope from harm.

After a couple more times in which each of them tried to burn their opponent's ropes without any luck, they seemed to have reached a standstill.

And then Zhora surprised everyone, Maxim most of all, when instead of sending his fire up over his head, he aimed straight ahead. As I bore witness to the awful sights of his upper body get engulfed in flames, I had to remind myself that he could not be hurt by fire. Zhora's fire subsided as he shut his mouth again, but then Maxim was left with his suit jacket caught fire, and I could not believe how dirty Zhora was.

Zhora started to laugh as Maxim stumbled to pull the jacket off his body. But the act of doing so caught the rope above him on fire, and I actually yelled out, "Watch it!"

He probably never heard me, but regardless he quickly swung to another ring just before the one he had been holding fell away. As Zhora continued to laugh mockingly, both Maxim and I noticed that his white button-up was also on fire. He quickly pulled this off as well, leaving him shirtless except for his tie. I noticed his rope had started to catch fire again in the process, but he patted it out before it could burn through.

Maxim's face looked absolutely enraged. He angrily struck out at Zhora, breathing fire all over him, but Zhora just laughed again as nothing caught fire, his Decency Police uniform holding tough.

Before Zhora could breathe fire again, Maxim moved away, on the defensive. He was trying to outrun Zhora by moving down the left side line of rings back towards where he had started.

But down Zhora turned in the same direction and started to move down his line as well, keeping at pace with Maxim.

Maxim was using his whole upper body to start going faster than ever between the rings, and this became all too clear to me as I could now see the whole gorgeous thing completely unobstructed. The power in his bare shoulders, bis, tris, and forearms took my breath away, and watching his six-pack abs and ripped pecs harden set my heart racing. The rope swinging had left his upper body with a sheen of sweat over his tan-white skin, showing off each veiny muscle of his powerful build. Even his large, pink nipples were glistening. His brown upper body hair, thick on his chest, was noticeably moist as well, as were his armpit hair. And when he turned the corner and started moving along the other side of the rings, I could see his incredible muscled back turning taut as he grabbed the rings with his big hands and moved down the right side of the course. This broad, muscled part of him was just as wet and veiny as the front, yet hairless.

Zhora made a move to catch him and cut him off, but Maxim was too fast for him. It looked like Zhora would continue to follow Maxim down the right side of the course, but instead, he turned around and made his way quickly down the middle line again, moving at the same pace as Maxim.

Zhora unexpectedly yanked his ring to the right, sending him hurtling towards Maxim instead of towards the next ring. He also emitted a huge blast of fire, this time sending in a lower angle. Maxim's legs caught the brunt of it, and once again, his clothes ignited in fire, this time contained to his pants as his upper half had nothing left to burn.

If someone had lit my pants on fire, I'd be more than a little panicked that my unit would suffer burns, but Maxim's face showed nothing but anger, no panic at all, and I knew even that part of him must have been burn proof. But the flames built up enough to catch the rope on fire, luckily he moved to the next ring before that one fell off. But then the next one started to catch fire too, and he was left with no choice but to hurriedly rip off his flaming pants off with his free hand.

There was a gasp from the audience, myself included, as the alight piece of clothing fell to the ground below. I didn't know if he was going commando or if his boxers got burned up along with the rest of him, but he remained wearing nothing but his fancy shoes. Those leg muscles I had seen yesterday were again in view, and my eyes were all too glad to welcome them back, this time the veiny muscles glistening with sweat. His v-shaped muscles against his hips and obliques were thick, and they came together blissfully with his brown treasure trail into a hot patch of brown pubes, coarse and sweaty. And then below that point, it made my stomach go to butterflies to see. Boy, the guy hadn't been exaggerating when he had made insinuations at his size; he was largest Petrov Blood vampire for sure. His thick, uncut shaft was just as covered in veins as the rest of his muscles, a thick, creamy flaccid dick that made my mouth water. Given his state of mind, he was obviously totally soft, yet the thing between his leg dangled to his own knees. His foreskin covered most of his head, leaving just the tip of his pink head visible, but it made me want more. He hadn't been kidding when he told me he was no average vampire, that was all too plain. Even his creamy-tan balls were enormous, two creamy-tan mounds that had a light dusting of brown hair on them, wet with sweat. The room was filled with wide open eyes and mouth as everyone was stunned by his size. After seeing that, many, especially the women present, seemed to shift their allegiance.

In the end, three rings had fallen on the right side of the course before Maxim had managed to rip his pants off, making that side all but not navigable. While he had been busy with that, Zhora had used the distraction to swing back over to the empty left side of the course, lighting two more rings over there on fire and making that side too impassable, leaving only the middle path, the one Zhora was on. Zhora moved back towards the side of the course he started on, the same side Maxim had just reached.

Maxim seemed to think it very clever to bypass the slower Zhora's line of rings and headed for the left side of the course. No amount of shouting from me or any of his new fans that he was unknowingly headed into a dead end seemed to reach him; the music was just too loud. Soon he swung his ring in the center of that left line in order to grab the next ring in order to find for himself nothing but charred rope.

He spun around, but only came face to face with Zhora, who had of course cut him off, trapping him. Zhora opened his mouth, and once more his fire reached Maxim, this time engulfing his naked body in fire, but thankfully too low to burn through his ring's rope.

And then Maxim's face seemed to say, my turn, and he opened his mouth. A huge blast of fire came out, much larger and brighter than any I had seen before. Incredibly, once again the audience gasped as that supposedly fireproof police uniform melted away into ash and shook off his body, leaving him as naked as Maxim (but not the least bit as impressively large). I assumed everyone did what I did right then: try to remember the last time Maxim had opened his mouth. It seemed like it had been forever, and clearly he had been trying to avoid Zhora that whole time in order to charge up a blast large enough do some real damage. I wondered if he had only pretended to not notice that Zhora had knocked the left rings down, duping his opponent to get closer to him than he ever had before.

Now that his mouth was free for once, of course a string of insults passed his lips, many of which I could not hear, but one I did hear was, "I like your new choice in outfit much better. Oh, and I love what you've done with your hair. Having hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, pubes, or any other body hair was such last year's tired fashions." And that was the first time I realized that somehow that fire had been hot enough to singe all of his hair too, which so far had seemed as fire proof as their skin.

But the fire did more than humiliate his opponent; he also set fire not just to the rope he was holding but five others as well. Zhora was only barely able to grab onto the one ring that didn't seem affected by the fire for some reason in order to keep from falling. And then I realized only with much squinting on my part that the ring seemed to actually made of metal, with a steel chain clanking as soon as he grabbed on instead of the typical rope. Zhora's look of arrogance returned as he realized what a sweet deal he had stumbled onto.

Maxim realized his bad luck and started to visually search through all the rings for any other steel one. He spotted only one other, it seemed, and started to move towards it. But Zhora saw it too and swung in front of Maxim, lighting two of the ropes on fire before he reached them. He ended up making the only other fireproof ring completely inaccessible to anyone.

Zhora continued to move back and forth on his chain, reaching every single rope around him with his fire until Maxim became as stuck on his ring as Zhora was on his. Of course, no amount of fire blowing on Maxim's part would do any good, but Zhora swung towards his enemy's ring and fireblasted the man's rope. But Maxim moved his hand up and caught the fireball once again, keeping it from making contact.

Thwarted, Zhora once again took a page from Maxim's book and held his mouth shut, clearly charging up. A couple long minutes went by, and then he let loose another huge blast of flame, all over Maxim.

Thankfully, Maxim still held onto his hair and pubes, proving that even Zhora's hottest blast wasn't as strong as Maxim's. But regardless, the blast was much larger in size, and no amount of blocking could stop the flames from lighting Maxim's rope on fire, a small fire though it was.

Seeing this, Maxim started to swing his ring as far back and forth as he could. He let go right before the ring gave out, and he hurtled himself in the direction of his opponent. Once again, everyone was in awe as we watched this incredible specimen of a man jump so hard above us it almost looked like he was taking flight, dragging his long unit behind him. He did something that clearly no one had planned any competitor would do: he cleared the distance, just barely grabbing onto Zhora.

Zhora, as shocked as anyone at this feat, snapped back to it and started to fight Maxim for control over that last metal ring. Both naked bodies were incredibly formidable, but Maxim was slightly larger, slightly more powerful, and after a long struggle, he ended up climbing up Zhora and punching his hand loose of the ring before grabbing it himself.

But instead of falling, Zhora was able to grab onto Maxim's legs, and no amount of kicking seemed to push him off. After a couple minutes of struggle with no change in results, Maxim looked up as the chain above him. He started to breathe fire in a steady, endless stream against the chain above him.

When after a couple minutes I saw the chain starting to glow red hot, I figured that Maxim was trying to use the slow, steady fire to melt through the steel, sending both of them falling to the ground, but Maxim was on top and would hit the ground second, being victorious. It was very clever.

That's when I looked to the side and noticed for the first time that the box that the Tsar's box which had started this duel empty now contained a seated man of honor who was clearly the Tsar surrounded by Decency Police guards. I had been so enrapt by Maxim's fight that I hadn't even seen him arrive.

I didn't waste a single second before jumping to my feet and running as close to his box as I could, standing twenty feet beneath him. "I invoke the power of the Council!" I shouted, but it was so noisy in the place, he couldn't hear me.

I shouted three more times, as loud as I possibly could, but neither the Tsar nor his guards took any notice of me. This wasn't going to work.

I ran out a door to an outer corridor of the tents, moving through an employee's only door, and headed upstairs. I saw the door to the Tsars box being guarded heavily by police, and I knew I'd never just be able to run in and see him.

All of the waiters were standing at various doorways watching the intense fight, clearly ignoring their duties, and it wasn't long before I pilfered from their unattended stands a white apron to put on, a white waiter's hat, and a pad of paper. It would have to do.

"I'm here to take the Tsar's dinner order," I said to the one of the door decency police.

"I'll need to search you first for weapons, of course," said the officer.

"Of course."

I raised my hands as the guard patted me down. "Mmm," he said when he got to my butt.

"Find anything, there?" asked one of the other officers.

"Nothing but some sweet AB negative ass," said the guy accosting me who I dearly wanted to hit.

"Let him in."

I walked through the door and into the box seat, seeing that on the stage, Maxim and Zhora were in roughly the same state as when I left my seat. I walked over to the Tsar, threw my menu down to get his attention, and screamed, "I invoke the power of the Vampire Council!" And then I spit into his face, something I considered to be about as foul as act as I was capable of. "And that's for killing all of these poor people because of your idiotic Decncy Codes!"

Of course, by the time I spit on him, about five guards were all over me, grabbing me and holding me down. The Tsar angrily wiped my spit off his face. "How dare you treat your Tsar this way! Guards, kill this little pest immediately."

"Wait, I invoked the Vampire Council! The Vampire Council!"

"I have no idea what this trash is rambling on about," said the Tsar. "Please kill him."

"I'll do the honors," said the policeman who had fondled my butt, and he bit into my neck and started drinking me down, clearly intending to drain my life away, my dick hardening as I fought for freedom but came up short. As soon he tasted my blood, he made a surprised gasp of pleasure and as his body actually spasmed, and he lost his bite and ended up slicing me open with his fangs from my throat up to my lips, hot blood gushing everywhere before he caught himself again and resumed feeding from my throat. I started to feel faint.

And then miraculously, I saw naked Maxim jump over the railing, clearly he had somehow climbed up the twenty foot drop below to come to my rescue. He used his superior strength to pull the vampire police off me and had a vicious look on his face, his whole body shaking with rage. His fangs were out, and he didn't just pull the policeman off me, he used his fangs to rip open his whole throat, and the weaker vampire fell to floor, trying to hold his wound, gasping for life, blood spilling all over the floor. I started to faint, and Maxim caught me in his protective arms, picked me up and pulled my left side against his naked, sweaty muscles of his upper body.

"You will not harm him!" Maxim insisted.

"My son! You never told me you'd be fighting here tonight. I order you to give this human up to be executed."

"I refuse!"

"You have no right to refuse your Tsar! I may not be able to harm you, son, but you have no right to protect this one from death. I am absolutely sure of that."

"As am I," Maxim said. "But there's one other thing I'm pretty damn sure about, and that is that my father never had a mole on his left cheek. You think I can't see through that poorly applied make-up? Never imagined that you'd have to meet someone who actually knew the real Tsar's face close up, did you? And the real Tsar would have drained the man down himself, not have one of his lackeys do that. But that would be hard for you to imitate, considering you're not even a vampire, are you?"

The non-Tsar smile faded quickly.

"See Jake? I told you the real Tsar hated these sort of public entertainment appearances. So why not send his best look alike and be the one to laugh all the way to the bank. And if you even think about not letting this one go free, I'll tell the Fire Dueler organizers the truth and my father will have you to blame for his income loss."

"Fine, take the human away," said the Tsar decoy.

"Oh, one little tip, to help you ensure your future employment. The Tsar has never, ever referred to me as `my son.'"

He kicked the door open and started carrying me through the halls. "I need you to keep your hands pressed down on your wounds, can you do that, my friend?"

"Yes." My fingers soon managed to keep much of the blood from escaping. "So, I may not have informed you yet, I can't remember, but part of being my friend is to rush into the face of danger in order to save my life. It just comes with the territory, I'm afraid. You may want to rescind your friendship immediately."

"And miss out on all the fun? I think not."

"At least tell me you were able to beat Zhora in your duel. The last I saw the two of you seemed deadlocked."

"I would have beaten him, with certainty, if I had the time. When I saw you get into trouble with the decoy, I dropped out of the match and came as fast as I could."

"I'm sorry for messing your plans up."

"Please don't apologize."

I shut my eyes as I felt him carry me out of the Fire Tents and into the cold snow before ending up in the warm carriage, whose horses started to ride us away.

Maxim laid me down on the bench carefully. "Ah, there's tears in your eyes. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Yes, but I just realized that there's blood all over my brand new suit you bought me, Maxim. I am so stupid."

"No, that's the least of my worries. There will always be more suits. That's exactly why I had five made for you."

"But this was really, really expensive."

"Look, there's just some blood on it. If I take it off you now, my laundry maids should be able to salvage it."

"Yes, please do, before I bleed anymore on it."

While I held onto my wounds, Maxim quickly helped remove my suit, leaving me in just my socks and underwear. He put the suit aside and then lay down on top of me. Not crushing me with his weight, but gently holding me with his sweaty, veiny muscles.. "Good, you did so good holding your hands against the wounds just liked I asked you to, I'm so proud. Now, I need to you take your hands off, as much as that may hurt, so I can get a good look at them."

I opened my eyes, and saw his handsome face looking down at me, his expression somehow managing great worry and pity in spite of his large, scary fangs that were still erect. Angry Maxim was long gone, his face all protectiveness and tenderness. I wanted so badly to stroke his handsome beard and kiss those sexy, pink lips.

I pulled my hands off of my face and my neck, and the air did sting my wounds.

"Good god, look at your beautiful face, almost unrecognizable now," he said, shaking his handome head angrily. "I should have never showed mercy to the policeman who attacked you."

"You cut his throat clean out. You call that showing mercy?"

"I should have just ripped his head clean off. Now, I want you to hold onto me tight and brace against the pain." He wrapped my arms around his body and placed my bloody hands on his muscled back, my hands loving the feeling of his hot, sweaty lats. Even though I had my underwear on, with a dick as big as his was, as long as he was naked, there was no way a part of it wasn't going to be touching me. It covered the front of my briefs, but then hung heavy all down my left leg, so amazingly weighty.

"I don't want to get my blood on you."

"I don't care about that. Now, I'm going to try and lick your wounds shut. This may hurt."

He knelt down and started to lick my throat wound, and in spite of his warnings, nothing but an odd tingling feeling hit me as he started in. This time he kept whatever pleasure my unique blood brought to his senses to himself, at least vocally. The rest of his body definitely responded. His body shivered and tensed with pleasure, and his dick went from flaccid to amazingly hard in seconds, and boy, was that ever a welcome feeling. I simply could not believe just how massive he was hard. Mine had long since deflated since being bitten by the policeman, but even in my pain I felt a bit of a stirring there in my underwear too as his incredibly large unit attacked my body.

He licked all around my throat until it was healed, and then he followed with my scratches up over my chin, licking away the wound there as well. Finally, he reached my cut lips, his strong tongue turning the healing process almost into a romantic kiss.

"There, you did so good. See? There's that beautiful face again. I wish I could lick away the blood loss just as easily. How do you feel?"

"Woozy," I said.

"You danced with death himself, of course you're feeling so terrible. I think we should take you to the hospital for treatment."

"No, no hospitals, I hate hospitals. Please, I would agree if I thought it was necessary, but I can tell it's not. I just need some rest, really."

"Alright. You just fall asleep, my friend. I'll keep constant guard. Make sure no harm comes to you."

If I had been myself, I wouldn't have fallen asleep letting him hold me like that, his naked body all over mine, on top of me, his hardness pushed against me. But I was too tired to argue with him, and I fell asleep.

I woke up, confused but blissful, as warm water poured over me. I realized I was in the shower in the bathroom of the guest room I had been given in Maxim's house. Maxim was carrying me in his arms again, holding me against him as he washed the blood off my body, washed my blood off his body as well. Both of us were naked now, I supposed he had taken off my underwear in order to keep from getting it wet. Either that, or they had been bloody as well. I fell back asleep.

When I woke up again, I was lying naked in my bed under heavy covers, on my right side. I felt incredibly, sickly weak, and all I wanted to do was to go back to sleep. I could barely move.

As more of my senses came to me, I realized that I wasn't alone in my bed, and the mixture of manly sweat and pipe smoke smell made me certain it was Maxim who shared my bed, even though when I opened my eyes slightly, I couldn't see anyone there.

That's because he wasn't in front of me, he was behind me. He was spooning me from behind, also under the covers. His veiny pecs were pushed hard into my back, his chesthair and nipples tickling me. Hi manly knees were pressed into the back of my knees, his large feet almost holding my own. He had his strong left hand on over the left side of my chest.

Alarm hit me as I realized I was certainly being penetrated. Was he actually inside me? But there wasn't any pain or discomfort in my hole, and I realized it couldn't possibly be his huge unit that was inside of me. No, I could feel his hardness pressed against my butt. Its massive, rock hardness was pointed up, and was so large, it covered not just my left butt cheek but a good part of my back as well. There was a hot spot of precum on my back that kept growing larger and larger. His massive balls pressed all over my lower butt and hamstrings. What I felt inside me was one of his fingers.

"Mmm, what is going on?"

"Oh, good, I'm glad you've regained consciousness again." I felt him kiss the back of my head tenderly.

"Why are you in my bed?"

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You lost a lot of blood, bud, and are showing all the signs of severe blood loss. I called Dr. Herzog, thinking I should probably take you to the hospital to get a blood transfusion."

"No, I hate the hospital, especially Herzog's chilly clinic. I'm really fine, just tired. Just let me sleep."

"Well, Dr. Herzog said as long as someone closely monitored you throughout the night to make sure your pulse doesn't get too low, you should be fine tomorrow. That's why I'm keeping my hand on your heart at all times. Your pulse has been slower than normal, but not scary slow, but I'm supposed to monitor that throughout the night just to make sure. As far as I'm concerned, I won't leave your side again until morning."

"Mmm, that explains your presence here and your hand on my chest, but why are you spooning me? And why the penetration?"

"Because Dr. Herzog said what was most important of all was to monitor your temperature constantly throughout the night, and make sure you kept warm. I asked him if it would be okay for me to just feel your forehead, but he said external skin temperatures can be deceiving, and I needed to gauge your internal temperature."

"But here you are, using your finger? I refuse to believe in this entire house, you didn't have a thermometer."

"Actually, we had two, but you broke both of them with your teeth. No amount of searching by the staff turned up anymore. And then I tried using my finger to take your temperature orally, but gave up after you mangled my hand just as you did the thermometer. You seemed much more agreeable to doing it this way."

I was too tired to argue with him, so I just let myself fall back asleep.

That's the position I remained in for the rest of the night, and every time I drowsily woke up, Maxim was still all over me, always seeming alert.

FEBRUARY 20th

The morning came, and my body woke up blissful. I was still in the same position in Maxim's arms, and boy did it feel good with his gorgeous body against mine. I yawned.

I felt his lips against my ear. "Are you awake, my friend?" he whispered, that familiar Russian accented voice had turned into such a positive sound for me, his sweet beard rubbing against the back of my head.

"I suppose so."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Much better, thank you."

"Your temperature and pulse really rebounded in the past hour or so."

I pulled out of his grip, his finger leaving my body finally, but then I turned around and lay on my other side, looking at him in his handsome face. "Maxim, did you really stay up all night looking after me?"

"I couldn't leave your side when you were potentially in peril," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"That was very sweet of you," I said, feeling so moved I had to reward him with a little kiss on the lips, which he delighted in.

"In full disclosure, I have terrible insomnia and not sleeping all through the night isn't too unusual. Here, you go back to sleep, I'm going to get you some breakfast."

"I'm too tired to eat."

"Too bad, you need to. It's the only way you'll get better."

Maxim gently separated from by body in bed and then got out of bed. I watched him walk away from me, and realized it was the first time I had seen his butt up close, and boy, was it worth it being viewed close-up. Like the rest of him, it was a big chunk of masculine, taut muscle, whose powerful globes were so fatless, they were actually as veiny as the rest of him. There was a light smattering of brown hair on them. Just like all the other male vampires whose naked butts I had seen up close, Maxim too had signs that his anus had long ago been sealed off and his female parts removed, making him all man. I could see something large and fleshy hanging between his muscled thighs, making me wonder if he had gone soft, but I realized it was just his huge balls I was seeing.

And then he turned around the bed and started to walk towards me, and my heart started to race as I got my first look at something I had only up until that point felt: his hardon. The massive, milky-tan pole stood out at ninety-degree angle from his body, standing out so far ahead of his body, if he ever did a footrace, it would seriously give him an unfair advantage, with his dickhead going across the finish line far before the rest of him reached it. Of course, it didn't seem likely at all that he would ever partake in a serious sprinting event both naked and totally hard, but with these freaky vampires and their strange pastimes, I could never be sure.

His coarse, brown pubes just barely tickled his rod, for the most part, it was totally hairless. The incredible girth of the unit was what was holding such a voluminous appendage upright, so hard that as his muscled body stepped up and down, his dick barely bounced at all, it remained sticking straight out, with only his massive balls bouncing. It was this same girth that made my jaw and my hole ache in pain just to look at him. His creamy-tan shaft seemed to go on forever, covered in so many veins they seemed impossible to count. Unlike the foreskin when he was soft, which mostly covered his head, when erect, the head was totally visible, the foreskin pulled back beneath it. His head was just barely thicker than the rest of his pole, which was amazing considering how girthy his stalk was. His mouthwatering head was pink and shiny, swollen and as angry looking as Maxim's face had been when he had struck back at the vampire that was trying to kill me. The pissslit was soaked in sticky precum, and I realized he was actually leaking all over the ground as he walked, giving the impressing of his dick being some fearsome, deadly carnivore that was drooling in preparation for making a kill. Except instead of his dick eating my flesh, I felt like his powerful rod was gazing at my flesh and craving so badly to devour it sexually. I felt like his tool, truly more powerful than any power tool I had ever seen, was the creamy-tan flesh embodiment of lust and desire itself.

He put a robe on which was grossly inadequate method of covering such a huge erection, as his dick totally tented it out in front of him, in was laughable. And then the robe settled around him, meaning his whole rod ended up visible and shooting out perpendicular to his body. I was too tired to try and help him, and he left.

I fell back asleep quickly.

A bit later, I woke up again. Maxim, still naked but soft again, was back in my bed. He sat me up against the headboard. When I felt weak and started to wobble, he lifted me up and knelt underneath me, his knees against the headboard.

He set me down on his lap, my legs straddling his ribs, my back supported by the headboard, and he used his muscled arms to hold me steady. I noticed that his massive dick was hard again, and pressed against my crack underneath me, but I just pretended not to notice. His hard erection stuck out so perpendicular to his body that it actually felt like his lap consisted of not just two thighs but a third down the middle, making me feel more supported. At times, his uncut dickhead scraped against my inner thigh, leaving a huge splash of hot precum, but again, I pretended not to notice.

He had a plate of food on the bed next to us, absolutely filled with food. Boiled eggs, cold cuts and bread, little pancakes called blini, juice and water. He grabbed things, one morsel at a time, and brought it to my lips while holding my body steady. He fingers lingered in my mouth like a lover's before pulling them out and urging me to chew.

"Now, one thing I need to mention is that while I was getting breakfast, the man who runs the fencing duels finally returned my message. He can either fit you in for your Bourgeoisie entry duel tomorrow, or he can schedule it a month from now. I'm going to tell him next month will be fine. I'd love to have things continue as they are, with you living here, for another month, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would love to stay with you for a month and hone my skills. But I'm on a deadline, Maxim."

"You're not ready to fight tomorrow."

"You told me I was more than skilled enough."

"You are, but considering you've just been overly drained."

"I already feel much better today. Give me a couple hours, and I won't even remember being weak."

"But as a prerequisite for entering tomorrow's fight, you'd need to go to the Sneg Dvorec and pass your Decency Code test today. If you fail, you'd need to wait a year to take it again."

"I've memorized all of those codes, Maxim. I'm ready to take the test today."

"I don't want you to stress out today. I have to go in to work today, but I want to picture you resting your weak body, naked in your bed. Not cramming for a ridiculous test."

"That's sweet of you, but I've made up my mind. What time should I be there to take my test?

"Eleven, can you do it?"

"Yes, I'll meet you there."

After Maxim left, I let myself fall back asleep for a while longer. Being tired would not help my mind during the test, I knew. I was only vaguely aware of a fully dressed Maxim coming to check on me one more time before he went to work.

I woke up with a slight headache being the only lingering remnant of my blood loss. I grabbed the brochures and spent a long time reviewing everything. After I was totally confident, I got dressed and found Michael downstairs in the kitchen. He produced for me a healthy, early lunch full of brain food.

"You have one hour. Good luck!" said Dima, the friendly woman who had first helped me on my arrival to the city after she had taken me from the front desk of the Sneg Dvorec back into her office to give me my exam.

I eagerly flipped through the papers. There were a hundred and fifty multiple choice questions inside. The header asked for me to identify the real code in each question. Looking at the first question, a real code that I recognized, one relating showing respect to Decency Police, was included with three other codes choices that I did not know, making the decision there clear. The other three fake rules couldn't have been just guessed by those who hadn't studied for this, as they all seemed legitimate.

I used forty-five minutes to make my initial selections, and then another fifteen to go through and review my choices. When Dima called time and I handed in my test, I was pretty darn sure I had gotten them all right. Still, there was that gnawing doubt in my stomach that I had missed something.

It took me twenty minutes to track down Maxim after he had left me in Dima's office with the best of luck wished for me. "How'd you do?" he asked with a smile.

"I think I did well. How long does it take before they tell me the results?"

"She corrects the immediately. Let's go back and see how you did."

Maxim and I ended up back in Dima's office, as she looked down at my test thoughtfully. "We're supposed to only let people pass if they get all answers right," she said. "But the test is so hard, the truth is, I'll pass anyone who misses ten or less."

"That's what happened to me, isn't it?" I asked.

"Actually, no," she said. "You actually missed, well, about a third of the questions. I'm afraid I have no choice but to fail you."

I gasped, my stomach lurching. It was like Berkeley all over again. What was wrong with me?

"Is that the final word?" asked Maxim. "Can he retake it?

"I'm afraid not for a year."

I shook my head, absolutely stunned as we walked out of her office. "I'll be going back to your place, then," was all I could say.

"I'll meet you there in a minute, I just have to tell them that I'm stepping out. We need to discuss what this means for you."

When I got to the privacy of the stagecoach, I couldn't stop the tears from falling from my eyes. I was horribly angry with myself, and I threw my jacket off in a temper.

When Maxim came into the stagecoach, I turned my head away from him and tried to wipe the tears away before he could see my weakness.

"No, don't do that, you never have to cover up your emotions from me."

Before I could protest, Maxim was against me, holding me. I turned away from him, but he wouldn't let me escape. He cradled me from behind, pulling both of us down on the bench. He had me in his lap, and he held me tight against him, and I stopped fighting him. He kissed me softly on the cheek. "Just go ahead and let it out. I'm here for you, I'm always here for you."

I started to cry again, turning my head to the right side and placing that side of my face into his chest, all strong muscle even under his suit. Hot tears came out. "I can't believe I've screwed everything up again. And now I'm getting your shirt sopping wet with my tears and my saliva, how gross is that?" I started to pull back.

"I don't care about my shirt."

"I do. I'm not going to be responsible for another one of your suits. I can make myself stop."

"Absolutely not. I'll take off my shirt off if you're that worried about it, but I'm not letting you bottle up your emotions like that."

He didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled off his shirt until he was bare chested, and then he pulled my face against those beautiful pecs again as my tears landed without being held back.

"Just cry," he soothed me, rubbing his fingers through my hair. "Yes, that's it. Just let it all out, let me take care of you. Now, tell me what you meant by screwing things up again. This is the first time you took this test, correct?"

"Yes, but just before I got swept up in all this vampire mess, I was at Berkeley, trying to be an Engineering major. I started out doing well, but by the time my first finals came around, I failed out of the program."

"You were probably spending your time doing a lot more interesting hobbies besides studying, and I don't blame you."

"No, I actually studied an insane amount of time. I failed not because I didn't try enough, but because I wasn't smart enough. Just like today."

He rubbed me with his hands soothingly. "Look, Engineering is a really, really difficult major. Most people would flunk out of something like that. And this test today was punishing beyond belief. Most people fail it as well. Listen, I don't care one bit if you're not Einstein. Regardless of your IQ, you're such a good person, you have stronger values than anyone I can remember, and you make me laugh. That's why I've come to care about you so much. Your test-taking skill just isn't why you've put a spell on me."

"As sweet as that is, I've still screwed up my chances of finally meeting your father."

"Not after you see this."

He handed me a piece of paper. It was a certificate of Decency Code exam completion, with my name and the date written in.

"No way! Did you steal this?"

"Leif Runeberg is the head of education here, so I went to him and made a bargain for him to get Dima to lie."

"Please tell me you didn't agree to exchange sexual favors to anyone for this."

"No, of course not." But he was still being vague.

"What exactly did this cost you?"

"Nothing much, really. He was just really fond of my head chef, so he made me exchange her with the one he employs."

"For how long?"

"Forever."

"Maxim, no, you love your chef!"

"It's a small price to pay for your ultimate safety my friend."

I reached back and hugged him tightly. "You are such a hero to me, Maxim. I'd be lost without you."

"Mmm," he said, kissing me on the cheek, his broad smile returning.

"That's only going to get you so far, sir," said Michael as he came into the portrait hall, interrupting my solo fencing practice.

Ever since I had gotten back to the house, I had been practicing fencing solo, preparing for the match I had the following day diligently. I only paused for the first dinner cooked by Maxim's new head chef, a marked decrease in quality. Maxim had another required dinner at the Sneg Dvorec and wouldn't be home until late.

I realized, like me, Michael was wearing a fencing suit. He climbed up onto the platform to meet me. "You need a partner to really improve. The master will be so angry with me if he knew I was doing this, but I'm not as positive as he seems to be that you can walk off with win tomorrow so effortlessly."

"Michael, I don't want you to help me. I don't want you to get in trouble, and besides, you're not exactly a spring chicken anymore. This is some serious working out I'm doing."

"I know that. I'll be fine, I insist. I am in far better shape than I look."

"Fine, but if you start to get the least bit tired, you tell me, okay?"

Michael started to teach me everything he knew for the first hour, and then we started in on serious fencing for the rest of the time after that, working late into the evening.

Just when I managed to win my first exhaustive match against him, he keeled over and grabbed his chest.

"I didn't push my blade too hard against your heart, did I?" I asked.

He didn't answer me, only clutching his chest, gasping for breath.

I pulled off my helmet and gloves. "Michael, are you alright?"

He couldn't answer me, all he could do was shake his head, but the way in which he clutched his heart made it look like he was having a heart attack.

I ran over and pulled off his mask. "Somebody help!" I yelled.

Michael's panicked face, bright red, turned limp and lifeless as he fell to the ground.

"Help, somebody! Michael needs medical help immediately!"

I could feel that he had stopped breathing, and his eyes turned lifeless as his pupils dilated. I started to give him CPR, pounding on his chest, and then breathing into his mouth. He had a bunch of mucus in his throat, which I cleared out with my fingers before resuming the CPR. Every second I was shouting for help, but no one was coming.

After a few minutes, I knew logically that I wasn't doing any good, but my own panic kept me from stopping or even slowing down.

"What, what did you do?!" shouted Maxim as he swept into the room, his face absolutely furious.

"We were practicing, and he had a heart attack, I think. He hasn't been breathing for a few minutes."

He looked down at the two of us, his face getting angrier than I had ever seen it, and then that horrible fury was directed at me. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

I winced, almost positive he was going to strike me. When he didn't, before I could feel relief, he resumed his shouting.

"GET AWAY, YOU KILLED HIM!"

"I'm sorry," I said, stopping the CPR finally and shaking my head, sobbing. "He absolutely insisted that I let him practice with me."

"You should have never let him, should have never let him! You killed him! Get out, get out!"

I ran as fast as I could out of the room, still certain Maxim would hurt me, but all he did was grab Michael's body and pull it towards him.

I didn't stop running until I was shut away safe in my bedroom. I felt totally guilty, absolutely horrible about myself. Maxim had been right, it had been my fault.

Tears poured down my cheeks. I ripped off all of my fencing gear, hating the sight of it suddenly. Naked, I got into my shower and scrubbed every part of me with soap as I cried, trying to wash away the guilt, but even that only made me feel marginally better.

All I could do was to climb into bed naked and try, unsuccessfully, to sleep.

Sometime later, I opened my eyes as I heard the bedroom door slam and Maxim barge into my room. His face held such angry determination; I thought he was coming to physically throw me out of his house as he stepped over me on the bed.

He pulled my covers off me, leaving me exposed, as he looked down at me with fury.

And then his hard resolve collapsed on top of me, as did his body, lying down on top of me and covering me. Tears burst free of his eyes and started to dampen me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

"No, you were right, completely. It was my fault."

"He wouldn't take no for an answer, and he made you fight him."

"I should have stopped him."

"There was nothing you could have done. He's the elder, you couldn't exactly tie him up to keep him from practicing. I just saw you there with his dead body, and I lashed out, stupidly." He rubbed my face, kissed my lips, even. "Please tell me you forgive me."

"I forgive you, of course. I totally understand. You just saw one of the closest people to you lives extinguished." With Maxim not blaming me for Michael's death, I let me forgive myself as well; let him convince me that my irresponsibility was not to blame in this. And then I could start really mourning the man, and I started to cry along with Maxim. "What did you do with the body?"

"I'm having it shipped back to his family in England. My people have already removed it from the premises."

"Maxim, I am so sorry. I didn't know Michael very long, but I could see what a good person he was. I wish I could have known him longer."

"I wish I could have as well. The sad truth of is, I tried many times to convince him to let me turn him, to let me make him a forever, but he wouldn't have any part in it. I cannot stand another person I love taken from me prematurely, I feel like I'm on the edge of sanity. I always throw my heart into my relationships, and when something happens to those I love, I just can't take it."

"Thinking about my mother, brother, and even Ahmad getting older and dying while I stay young forever scares me to the core," I said, crying, holding onto him. "Losses like that must make you tempted to just open yourself up emotionally only to other ageless vampires."

"Ageless as we are, we are still just as vulnerable. My twin sister, the person I loved most as a child, died of illness before she was even an adult."

"But she was a special. Normal female vampires aren't as prone to illness as fanged vampires are. Why not befriend more of them?"

"They are still vulnerable. My mother died of TB at the same time my sister died of the flu."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Tell me about her."

"She was such a good mother. She hated my father, who she was forced to wed in an arranged marriage. She managed to save us from his wrath until she died."

"I wish I could have known her too, and your sister."

"So do I. And listen, I'm no stranger to grief."

"Please tell me about it. I need to hear it all."

I told him about all the good people I had seen killed before their time since vampires first entered my life. And I told him about Parker. Maxim was incredibly supportive, holding me while I cried, and even crying along with me.

"You've lost just as I have, but I want to promise you something: you're not going to lose me. I am much too strong and far too wily to meet my end like any other the people you've lost."

"That's very sweet of you to promise, Maxim."

"And your very biology makes me the same promise," he said, holding my face and looking down at me. "You're forever ageless, and you'll never fall ill. For the first time, I see in someone the possibility of forever, and it makes me so happy."

"Let's not forget that you've already saved my life twice. Death is drawn to me, Maxim. I find my life endangered all the time."

"If you stay with me, I won't let you get hurt. I'll protect you from harm, I swear."

He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me again.

"Now that Michael's dead, there's only one way I'll ever get through this night, and I know you want it too. Please, let me take your body."

I sighed. "Oh, alright, I admit it, I'm burning with desire for you. I give you my consent."

"Oh, yes, yes, I need your love, I need your love so badly."

He started to rip off his suit, literally shredding it as he pulled it from his body until he was as naked as I was. Behind the tears on his cheeks, his face held such powerful desire. Gone was the jovial, grinning man with that big-bellied laugh that I had known so well, and gone too was the sweet, sad side that had just shown me all his vulnerability. At first, because his face was so serious, I thought I was seeing the furious Maxim that I had only been introduced to the day before, and it frightened me. But then I realized this wasn't that Maxim either, this was an entirely new iteration of the man, one so completely possessed by fiery desire. Every movement he made just oozed raw, masculine sexuality. I was a bit nervous as he lowered his head and kissed me, his tongue invading mine, announcing the stark change he was making from a friendly flirt to a powerful lover, and I gave in to him, closing my eyes.

He was rock hard from the moment he tore off his clothes, and it felt so good to have his gigantic tool pressed against my body, leaking precum all over my stomach, and I could actually feel the veins of his incredibly girthy, uncut piece against my stomach. I loved the feeling of his huge balls completely swallowing up my own with their size. I could feel every muscle of his ripped, furry legs press against my own. I adored the feeling of his large nipples pressed into my chest, the feeling of his veiny, muscled arms completely surround me with their heat. His taut, hairy muscles pinned me down beneath him on the bed, and I felt like he totally owned me.

There was nothing slow or gentle between us, it was like we were on fire. His hands squeezed my head like a vise as he kissed me, and then moved all over my body. My hands followed suit, clasping the thick, veiny muscles of his powerful back, digging my nails into those ridges, amazed at how hot and sweaty his skin already was. I needed more, more. My hands moved down to his muscled butt, feeling the very light hairs there, all sweaty, and pulling him hard against me, loving how it made his dick push even harder against mine. He moved his hands to my butt as well, and his fingers eagerly played with my hole, making me shout out in pleasure. More passion overtook him, and he showed me by thrusting his gigantic erection against my own hardness locked between our bodies, the feel of his giant phallus actually making me cry out.

He lifted my legs and put my ankles on his shoulders, still kissing me. He took away his huge endowment away from my dick and slammed it against my crack, sending hot lines of pleasure all through my lower body. He started to thrust there madly, moving so fast he was almost a blur, bringing such pleasure to me each time his angry head went past my hole, all the while kissing me so hard, I almost couldn't breathe.

And then he pulled away from the kiss, stroked his dick, milking the head, and he suddenly gushed so much precum, I knew no human man could have produced it. He rubbed the precum over his dickhead, pulling back the foreskin in order to get it completely covered. His mouth returned to mine, and I felt that monster pushing against my hole, demanding entrance, his head oozed hot precum all over my hole as if licking a lollipop. My instincts were to open up to him and let him inside me.

He pushed into me, and his huge dickhead somehow got inside me, as he made such a sexual roar of pleasure that it was all too clear just how much pleasure that brought him. I could feel hot spurts of liquid, and at first I thought that had made him come, before I realized it was just his precum responding to his pleasure, lubing up my chute. I felt so good for a moment.

But then as he dove further into me, I got another flashback of Jericho tearing my insides apart, and I pulled away from him quickly. "I'm sorry, I can't do that," I said. "Anything but that."

"But you seem to go nuts when I touch you there, and you even got hard during last night when I had your finger inside you."

"Your dick is like ten times the size as your finger, and I just can't do that. I've had too many bad experiences, and it's not something I'll ever get pleasure out of again. So, that's something you should know, if you're going to be with me, that's never going to be on the table."

"That's totally fine," he said. "I am an incredible lover, my friend. I can keep sex new and exciting for us for centuries without ever needing to be inside you."

I was so reassured as he pulled his dick out again, that I dropped to my knees and started to admire his dick up close. Like always when he was hard, the massive thing was perpendicular to the ground, and I laughed as I realized just how impossible it was to push the thing down or to the side. No, the girthy instrument seemed to have a natural inclination to point right towards my face. I rubbed my hands from his sweaty, brown pubes to stalk, running my fingers along every one of the veins of his solid, uncut meat. Both hands around it couldn't cover the whole things, but I stroked him anyway. I loved how with each stroke, his dick twitched, and a large glob of precum flew out of his swollen, pink head, right onto my waiting face. Like the rest of his skin, his precum seemed hotter than it should have been, and soon, my face was absolutely covered with it.

I saw his balls there beneath me, and I noticed how, since he had gone hard, they had pulled up towards his body. They weren't any smaller; they just hung closer to his dick. My mouth was drawn to his left ball, and I licked at his rough skin there, taking in the manly scent of his tiny brown hair there. I took the whole, lemon-sized testicle in my mouth, sucking on it. He was looking down at me with that intense, almost frightening look, but it was clear from his grunts just how much pleasure I was creating. He had his hands holding onto the back of my head so tightly. I moved to the other, huge ball, sucking the flavor off that one as well.

I moved my lips and tongue upwards, letting his giant balls totally swallow up my chin as I licked into his brown pubes. I moved my lips back, my tongue moving along one of the major veins of his shaft, taking in all of his wonderful, manly flavor.

By the time I got to his head, I knew that there was no need to hold his dick in place, it automatically held itself right at the perfect level. I licked at the shiny, bloated head, pink and covered with precum, sucking all the ooze down, all of it setting my mouth alight. I licked at his pissslit, getting more and more precum out of him. And then I put my lips around his head and sucked him while he hissed in pleasure.

I put my hands on his sweaty, muscled butt, which seemed like the right thing to do, yet I realized I could barely reach them, that's how thick with muscles his lower body was, and how long his dick was.

As I pushed my jaw open more and moved down on his huge dick, his precum was so flowing by then, it was actually dripping down my chin. He had his strong hands on the back of my head, not forcing me down or choking me, but not letting me ease off, either.

He was so excited, he lifted me up while I was still sucking him. He stood up on the bed, my body upside down, being held up between his body and the headboard. I locked my arms around his lower back as gravity brought me lower and lower on his massive dick. At the same time, I felt him start to suck my dick in a standing sixty-nine position. Unlike with me having to take his thick dick a little at a time, he eagerly swallowed up my whole dick all at once, and my body absolutely exploded in pleasure as he eagerly licked me there. His masculine, beard-covered chin pushed against my pubes. His moustache tickled my balls, and I felt his nose pressed against my hole, and heard him sniffing me there, excitedly, clearly drawn there.

Meanwhile, I kept getting my jaw to open more and more, and each time, got more and more down on his rod. I got so far down, my hands slipped down to his butt and my chin was grazing his pubes. Also because of gravity, all of his sweet precum was spilling out of my lips, splashing hot and sticky all over my face and his balls beneath me.

Soon, I felt his finger invade me again, which, at that small scale, drove me wild. He didn't just hold it in passively, nothing about Maxim was ever passive. He immediately started to thrust hard into me with that thick digit, somehow knowing instinctively where my prostate was, hitting it with the tip of his fat finger every time. It seemed clear to me that he was probably staring at my hole, wishing it was so much more of him inside me than just his finger, but thankfully being satisfied with whatever insertion there that I could give him. At the same time he made my insides go crazy with pleasure, his tongue and mouth only sped up their relentless attack on my dick.

I opened my jaw more, and I finally, finally reached bottom, making me feel so accomplished. My lips locked around the base of his dick, tasting some of his pubes with my tongue, loving their flavor. My chin settled into the rest of his sweaty pubes. My nose landed right into the center of his balls, and that precum smeared even more all over my face as his giant nuts totally covered my face.

Just before I was about to come, Maxim pulled his mouth off my, and I realized that wasn't his ultimate goal. He pulled his finger out of me and used both hands to grab my body hard. A shot of fire escaped his lips, and next thing I knew, beautiful butterflies made of fire flapped their wings as they flew realistically all around us. I was amazed at the level of detail he could create with his powers.

At the same time, I felt his mouth move to my hole, his sweaty beard scratching my crack. He used his huge tongue to lick at my hole eagerly, hissing in pleasure as soon as he tasted me. He licked me so long there, I felt like he must have been teasing me.

And then I finally felt his pink tongue push inside me, knocking his pleasure all through my body. As he started to attack my hole with his tongue, I felt more and more precum of his just splashing and gushing all over my waiting gullet.

I felt his fangs pierce my skin on both sides of my hole, and he started to suck me there, his tongue making love to me, that feeling of total sexual ecstasy the bite always gave me even stronger with the superb sexuality of my new lover. He kept on sucking the blood out of me as he managed to pound me so hard with his tongue; I was shocked that it wasn't a dick inside me.

With the back of my head still pressed against the headboard, I felt him start to thrust his hips back and forth, moving his giant, uncut pole in and out of my mouth. He started slowly, but worked faster and faster with each thrust. I gripped the sweaty, hairy butt of his, and loved the feeling of feeling each of his many thrusts through those muscles. I loved how his huge, hot balls slapped against my face with each thrust.

He started to absolutely pound my mouth, thrusting so hard it put me out of breath, grunting with pleasure with every single thrust.

He seemed to have a sixth sense that I was about to orgasm, because he made himself come at the exact same moment.

He screamed out in pleasure, drove his tongue all the way inside me, plunged his dick all the way back into me, holding it all the way inside me. I could feel his butt and back muscles tense up and hold that way, and his strong, vampire arms and whole front held me so hard against that headboard, it almost hurt me. In synch, my body tensed up as well, my prostate sending pleasure through me, as did his fangs.

I could actually feel those giant balls which were all over my face twitch and pulse. At the same time, that giant unit of his changed not so subtly. His whole girth swelled somehow even thicker than before. I could feel his huge dickhead pulse and expand. And then I went nuts feeling that first, amazing shot leave his dickhead and totally hit my throat so forcefully it almost was uncomfortable. I shot my first shot right when he did, in total ecstasy, shooting against the wet fur of his pecs.

His shot more and more, each shot pummeling my insides, and his seed got so voluminous, it started oozing down all along my tongue, and that's when I really tasted his cum for the first time. It tasted incredible, somehow tinged with fire itself. I shot more and more.

As he continued to howl, his seed flooded me, and broke past my lips, quickly drenching his balls and flexed legs, so much of it poured all over him all the way to his feet. At the same time, it ran all over my face, covering my nose and forehead.

He gave one last thankful lick to my hole before holding me in his arms against the headboard as he lapped up all my semen from my spent dick. He licked my stomach completely clean.

He started to pull his hips back again, sliding his giant pole out of my mouth. As he did, more and more of his huge amount of seed poured all over the bed beneath us. It was strange how sad I felt when he pulled it out completely.

He caressed the back of my head fondly and gently lowered me back onto the bed, turning me right-side up. As he pulled back from me, I noticed he dutifully wiped my cum off his pecs and licked his hand clean, until there was no more trace of my seed left on either of our bodies.

I wanted to do the same thing for him, but the quantity of his load compared to mine was so starkly different, it was almost laughable. Determined to try, I used my hands to gather up all his copious semen that covered my face as best I could and lick them clean.

Looking at him, his muscled legs were absolutely covered all the way down to the tops of his feet, so that's where I started, licking his big feet clean as he moaned in approval. I licked up his muscled calves, having a harder time with them because he was so hairy there, so I had to lick, his thick seed clean of that fur. The fur started to lighten as I moved up his sexy knees, cleaning those off carefully. I moved m tongue up to his much less furry thighs, licking up every groove and vein of those powerful muscles.

His pubes were totally soaked with white cream, so I tackled this next, using my teeth to chew that wiry, brown hair free of his wonderful seed and swallowing it down. I licked his balls once at a time, sucking off all the white on those as well.

By this time, his massive tool was softening, and I started at his base, licking away all of that seed eagerly until that beautiful creamy-tan color was revealed once more. I finally sucked free his dickhead of cum, feeling one last drop oozing out of his slit onto my tongue.

He pulled me up and hugged my body hard with his, kissing me romantically, with me loving those kisses. And then he spooned me from behind, his soft dick pressing into my crack, us both lying down in my bed.

"What a gift you've given me tonight. It will never be forgotten, I promise you. I've had a lot of lovers in my time, but never have I felt this much pleasure. I feel like our bodies fit together so perfectly. Like your body was made to be my absolutely perfect sexual partner. And part of that fire comes from just how well we know each others' minds, how much I've grown to care for you."

I couldn't say this was the best lover I'd ever had. How could I even begin to compare Maxim's possessed fire with Parker's gentle love? All I knew was that they were both the best partners I'd had. "You absolutely blew me away tonight, Maxim."

"Hopefully not in a bad way."

"No, all in a good way. Thanks for this."

"I realized what it is. You are kindling for my fire."

I laughed. "Oh, so you are comparing me to what could amount to nothing but old, dirty piles of newspaper clippings? That doesn't sound like such an attractive metaphor."

"Quite right, and someone with a face as attractive a face as yours deserves a suitable metaphor. How about gasoline? You are gasoline to my fire."

"Now there's a metaphor I can get behind."

He laughed and grabbed my buttcheek. "Between the two of us, I do believe it's me that's gotten behind the most beautiful behind in the entire world, but that's beside the point. I've always been a fiery person, but you've ignited me more than I ever thought possible. Not just your body or your sex, but you mind and your sweet soul as well. You've ignited in me a passion I never knew I had. You've created for me protective anger to those who would harm you that I never felt so deep before. Since you've come into my life, my heart has been on fire and my cock as well."

I laughed. "If you're dick is on fire, chances are you have an STD, you should get that looked at. I claim no responsibility there, but I can recommend Dr. Herzog as the one physician with just enough icy touch to help you."

"Ha ha, very funny. And see? This is just another reason I'm falling for you. You're the only one who has the balls to cut down my silly, emotional metaphors even as I lay here pouring my heart out to you."

"I'm joking around with you, but I do hear and appreciate the content of your words. I feel the same way about you as well."

He kissed me. "That's very touching of you to say. Thanks for single-handedly turning one of the most tragic evenings of my life into one of the best nights ever. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

We lay in each other's arms, our racing hearts slowing, our heavy breaths getting longer, both of us in absolute delight as we fell asleep, the butterflies only finally dissipating as Maxim's eyes closed. I loved feeling the fleshy, uncut unit nestled against my buttcheeks, amazed at how well his veiny flesh-stick totally filled up my crack, that's how massive it was. I could even feel those lemon-sized balls pressed against my butt as well, could feel his pubes scratch my tailbone. He was holding on tight to me with those huge arms, and I could feel his muscled pecs and large nipples on my back, feel his chest hair pressed against me, those tight abs on my lower back. I took a deep breath, and I loved his manly, never overpowering smell of sweat.

I had already said my prayers, so I fell asleep, so comfortable in his arms I felt like I was in a trance.

Sometime in the night, I woke up. Maxim was sleeping just as hard as ever, still holding me just as hard as well. But there was something else he could add to that list of hard, his dick. It was still pressed against my crack, but this time, so at its full power, threatening me. His rod was pointed upwards, and I could feel his shaft slowly moving up and down against my crack, giving me shivers as it rubbed my hole. Far above, on my back, was his dickhead, and the thing was just pouring hot precum all over me.

Worried that he would penetrate me in his sleep, I grabbed the massive appendage and pushed it away from my hole and instead over my upwards hip, lying across my body. While that eased my mind, I soon realized he was absolutely soaking my front in precum with that thing.

The next time I woke up, I was astounded that in his sleep, he had instinctually moved his hard dickhead so it was pushed right against my hole. Precum was all over his uncut head, and hiss pissslit was pressed right at my hole, oozing more and more goo inside me.

I could not believe just how active and sexual Maxim could get in his sleep. He also had lifted my left knee up so it was bent against my chest, with his huge left arm holding my leg up like that. His right arm was under my body, holding my left arm down, and then reaching around his front, his hands locked together. It felt like a wrestling hold. Not that I was uncomfortable, I felt just as pleasant as ever.

I knew what his body was searching for, so I decided to let him have it. I pushed back my butt, opening myself up and letting him in, just a couple of inches, not even his whole head inside me. He grunted in pleasure in his sleep and chewed on my earlobe. And such a little amount felt good to me too.

"Just a little, but no more," I said to him.

And I fell back asleep.