Salem's Ridge

Reagan fidgets anxiously in the back of the town car, checking and re-checking her makeup in a small pocket mirror. The car ascends a long, narrow driveway through thick woods. Reagan has never had a house call this far from the city, but the money was impossible to turn down. She looks over her clothes. This was her first call where she was told to dress casually, jeans and a cardigan, rather than her usual small black dress. She knows nothing about the client, Carla, just that she's a very wealthy woman who has what she was told is a "special relationship" with Reagan's agency. Female clients are rare but not unheard of. Something feels...off...about this call, but Reagan isn't in a position to say no to work.

The car finishes it's ascent and pulls up to an ornate, hulking mansion in a clearing in the thick woods. Reagan immediately notices that there doesn't appear to be any light coming from inside the mansion. She sees what at first appear to be glass windows, but they are totally opaque. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but ignores it.

The car pulls into a garage and stops, passing a sign that says Salem's Ridge, the name of the sprawling estate.

"We are here, miss" the driver says, as her door opens. A thin blonde woman in a business suit greets her.

"Reagan, is it?" the woman asks. Reagan nods as she steps out of the car, brushing her brown hair from her face . The blonde woman eyes Reagan's lithe 5'4" frame up and down, before saying "Your client, Carla is waiting for you upstairs". The woman's expression is inscrutable, some strange mix of pity and derision. The woman begins to walk away, the unspoken instruction for Reagan to follow. "Carla loves green eyes, she requested that specifically" the woman says, as he heels click on the concrete floor.

"This house is insane" Reagan says sheepishly, trying to break the awkward silence, but the woman doesn't acknowledge her. The woman leads Reagan into the house. It's dark but ornately decorated. Reagan notices artwork from several different decades adorning the walls. The artwork makes her uneasy for reasons she can't explain. The scenes depicted look normal enough, but they all have a sinister edge. There is menace in the portraits...cold eyes, cruel smiles.
Reagan could swear she hears.... screams ... coming from somewhere distant? I must be imagining things she thinks. They reach a large central foyer, with ceilings that must be 30 feet high. Prominently in the center is a harsh marble statue of a naked woman with large bat-like wings and flowing curly locks down to her buttocks. She is beautiful, holding a dagger in one hand and a chalice in the other. She smiles displaying sharp teeth. The statue is somehow simultaneously deeply seductive but also terrifying. A fountain softly burbles the statues feet, and Reagan finds the statue's inexplicable allure and the soothing sounds of the fountain to be mesmerizing. Reagan is snapped back into the present when her attendant grabs her arm and urges her forward. Reagan looks over her shoulder back at the statue. The liquid in the fountain is now a deep opaque crimson. Reagan could swear the statue is looking at her, smiling differently. She blinks and the fluid is once again crystal clear water, the statue once again seeming totally inanimate.

Reagan shakes her head.

I really have to go to bed earlier she thinks, brushing the experience off as her eyes plays tricks on her from weariness. Rich people are weirdos, you know this already she thinks, they have weird fucking art.

The women walks Reagan up a huge, winding staircase. At the top of the stairs, there is a long hallway. The ceiling is vaulted and the hall is so long, it almost disappears into darkness at the end. There is a door at the far end, and the blonde woman stops walking when she reaches it. She turns and faces Reagan. "You're being paid handsomely for tonight, so follow Carla's instructions" she says flatly, and turns back down the stairs. "Oh, and cell phones don't work here, so don't bother" she adds. Reagan could swear the woman chuckled, but the cavernous hallway might be playing tricks on her ears.

The door cracks open, and Reagan tentatively enters the chamber. It's a large bedroom, with a luxurious canopy bed sitting prominently in its center. On the bed, Reagan sees who must be her client.

"Come closer, child" the woman on the bed says, her voice husky and seductive. Reagan steps forward, goose bumps visible on her skin. The woman on the bed is stunning. Reagan immediately notices her red lips and pale flawless skin. Her eyes are smoky, and she has thick lustrous black hair. Reagan is intimidated but also inexplicably drawn to the woman. Reagan feels the woman's piercing eyes looking her body up and down, those red lips curled into a smirk. Carla looks to be about forty years old, but somehow feels much older than that.

"My name is Carla, but you are to only call me 'Mommy' tonight, is that understood?" the woman says forcefully.

"Yes, mommy", Reagan says. Saying the words unleashes a complicated flood of emotions in Reagan. She feels uncomfortable, but as a professional she tries to bury those mixed feelings. I don't even know where my real mother is Reagan thinks ruefully.

"Good girl" Carla says, smiling coolly. She pats the mattress beside her, beckoning Reagan to come sit beside her. Reagan feels an urge to run, to get far away from here, but she's a professional. This is hardly her first weirdo client. Carla appears to pick up on Reagan's hesitation.

"Do I frighten you, child?" Carla asks playfully, her lips curling into a smile, her dark eyes sparkling.

"Maybe a bit... Mommy" Reagan says as she walks to the bed. At the edge of the bed, Reagan begins to remove her cardigan. Carla reaches out, grabbing Reagan's arm in a tight grip. Reagan can't believe how fast Carla moved, she didn't even see it.

"Not yet" Carla says, dragging Reagan to sit next to her on the bed. Carla brushes the brown hair from Reagan's face, cupping Reagan's cheek. Her fingers feel ice cold, and Reagan shudders. "The agency did well" Carla murmurs, examining Reagan's face closely. "You look so much like my Emma".

"Who?" Reagan asks, confusedly. Carla doesn't answer. Carla's thumb traces over Reagan's cheekbone, and then along her jawline. Carla turns Reagan's head from side to side, closely studying her features.

"Yes, very close indeed". Reagan shudders under Carla's touch. There is something unnatural about Carla's movements, but Reagan can't place it. Carla is sitting perfectly still, her chest isn't even rising and falling with her breaths. Carla's deep black eyes are penetrating, and Reagan can't turn away from them.

"Did they tell you anything about me?" Carla asks, her eyes locked with Reagan's.

"No Mommy..." Reagan answers. Carla smiles.
Carla's cold fingers move to the back of Reagan's neck. Carla leans in for a kiss, her cool soft lips brushing against Reagan's. The kiss almost feels maternal, Reagan thinks, before she feels Carla's cool tongue snake it's way inside her mouth. Reagan feels a chill run down her spine at Carla's kiss. Carla's hand drops from Reagan's cheek to her bicep, gripping it tightly. Carla breaks the kiss, and Reagan feels Carla's cool breath on her ear.

"Relax" Carla whispers huskily, "it's going to be a long night...I thought you were a pro?" she taunts. Reagan bristles a bit at this, but she can't deny how off kilter the confident and mysterious Carla has left her. Carla makes an inhuman sound in Reagan's ear, something guttural between a purr and a soft growl. Reagan shudders, but also feels herself relaxing slightly. Carla lightly nips at at Reagan's earlobe with her teeth. Reagan closes her eyes and sighs.

They feel... sharper... Than normal teeth? Reagan thinks nervously. No, Reagan, get a hold of yourself, you're thinking crazy. She feels Carla's cool breath on her neck. Suddenly Carla's presence is gone. Reagan opens her eyes to see Carla standing by the bed, holding a yellow checker print dress on a hanger. Reagan doesn't think the dress looks very sexy, it's quite modest and very very old fashioned. It almost looks like something you'd see a woman wearing in a movie set in the 1950s. Once again, Reagan cannot understand how Carla could move that fast.

"How did you..." Reagan begins, but Carla ignores her.

"I'd like you to put this on" Carla says, but her tone makes clear that this isn't a request.

"O...okay" Reagan says shakily. Carla does not hand the dress to Reagan directly, she places it on the bed as if she were presenting it to a small child. Carla smirks, her head tilted as if she is amused at Reagan's hesitation.

"Well?" Carla commands.

"Y-yes, mommy" Reagan says, fidgeting with the button on her cardigan. Reagan removes her top as Carla's eyes drill holes into her. She's had some of her clients look at her like a piece of meat before, but this feels different. She drops the cardigan to the ground, wearing only her black bra on top. Carla licks her lips.

Reagan slowly starts to undo the button and zipper to her jeans. She turns around to give Carla a view, slowly bending over and giving Carla a full view of her petite ass and black panties. She looks back at Carla over her shoulder. Carla is eyeing Reagan lustily, one of her perfect teardrop breasts having slipped from her robe. Reagan notices the golden barbell piercing in Carla's nipple.

"Do you like my ass, mommy?" Reagan says lewdly, flashing doe eyes at Carla. She wiggles her behind at Carla, but immediately regrets it.

"Don't talk like a whore" Carla admonishes her, her eyes burning with anger. "If you want to talk like that, I'll treat you like a worthless whore, do you understand?"

"Yes mommy, I'm sorry Mommy" Reagan says, chastened. "I love you Mommy" Reagan says, unsure what provoked her to saying that. She sees Carla relax.

"Good girl, now please put on your dress.". Reagan slowly slips into the yellow checkered dress. It flares out in the skirt but it's pretty tight around the waist and chest, but has no cleavage.

"You look lovely" Carla says.

"Thank you mommy" Reagan says, trying to push away the feeling that something is very wrong here.

"Lay down on the bed, my dear" Carla commands, pointing to the bed. Reagan does as she's told, laying on her back, her hands clasped over her stomach. Carla climbs onto the bed with Reagan, and lays beside her on her side. Carla reaches over and begins to stroke Reagan's hair softly. Reagan feels Carla's cool lips on her forehead.

"You look so much like her" Carla murmurs "it's unbelievable". Reagan feels Carla's leg against her. "Like who, mommy?" Reagan asks, but Carla once again ignores her.

They kiss slowly but passionately, as Carla's hand cups Reagan's cheek. Carla's leg slides over Reagan's thighs, as their tongues slide against each other. The kissing becomes more passionate. Carla is the best kisser Reagan has ever experienced, but her lips feel so so cold.

Carla kisses her way from Reagan's mouth to her chin, turning Reagan's head, and then kissing and softly nipping at her neck. Reagan moans, not used to being with clients feeling this good. She reaches out tentatively to cup Carla's exposed breast. Her thumb lightly rubs over the pierced nipple as Carla's own hand slowly slides down Reagan's front, over the soft cotton of the dress.

"You look so beautiful baby girl" Carla moans into Reagan's ear, before her cool tongue swirls inside. It tickles, but Reagan likes it. Carla bunches up the fabric of Reagan's dress, slowly pulling it up her front. Carla's fingertips lightly play over Reagan's thighs as they resume kissing. Reagan hasn't felt this turned on with a client, ever.

"Mommy that feels so good" Reagan moans, feeling herself getting wetter than usual. Carla drags her tongue up from Reagan's collarbone to her ear slowly as she nudges Carla's legs apart with her hand. Reagan gasps as she feels Carla cup her sex through the thin fabric of her panties. Carla drags her teeth over the delicate skin of Reagan's neck as Reagan gently spreads her legs. Carla takes Reagan's left leg between hers, and Reagan feels Carla's cool, slightly hairy pussy against her thigh. Carla drags the back of her knuckles lightly and slowly over Reagan's panty-covered slit, teasing her, making Reagan moan loudly.

"Mommy's going to make you feel so good tonight, Emma" Carla breathes sultrily. Reagan is too aroused to wonder who is Emma is right now. Carla cups the back of Reagan's head and lifts it to her exposed breast. Reagan takes the hint and begins to suckle on Carla's firm breast, her tongue flicking over the pierced stiff nipple. Carla lets out a hissing sound, arching her back slightly.

"Oh yes babygirl, that's it" Carla moans", as her index finger strokes slowly up and down over Reagan's panties. Reagan's hips undulate to meet Carla's slow strokes. She suckles devotedly at the breast as she feels Carla's wetness against her thigh. Carla's fingertips slip into the elastic of Reagan's panties, and she begins to lightly stroke up and down Reagan's moist slit. Her fingertips slowly drag through Reagan's moist folds. Carla eases Reagan's head back down and resumes kissing her, more forcefully this time. Carla's fingers part Reagan's wetness and her middle and index finger find Reagan's clit. She rubs the sensitive nub in wide slow circles as she moves to suck on Reagan's neck. Carla varies her intensity, increasing her speed to bring Reagan to the edge of climax and then backing off, as Reagan moans and whimpers.

"Don't stop, Mommy" Reagan pants as Carla's fingers move faster.

"Emma, I'm so sorry that I couldn't turn you, I miss you" Carla says cryptically. Reagan barely notices, her mind melting under Carla's expert touch.

Carla rubs Reagan's clit in tighter circles, moving her face closer to Reagan's neck. "Yes, baby, that's it" Carla purrs as Reagan moans and whimpers. Carla's finger moves faster, and Reagan feels the orgasm building inside her. She arches her back and bucks her hips against Carla's hand, breathing heavily. "Please Mommy, don't stop" Reagan cries, but Carla slows her pace, dragging out Reagan's pleasure.

"Come for me babygirl, come for Mommy" Carla whispers in Reagan's ear as Reagan's climax crests and bursts. Carla's cool tongue drags up Reagan's neck, and she nips at Reagan's earlobe as Reagan rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Carla slips two fingers inside Reagan's slick folds and pumps them in and out slowly, sending shivers through Reagan's body. "That's my good girl" Carla coos in her ear.

Reagan pants, her eyes scrunched closed, as she regains her composure after her earth shattering climax. Her body twitches as she gasps. She feels Carla move to straddle her, the robe falling from her shoulders. Reagan opens her eyes and looks up at Carla above her. Carla is impossibly beautiful, Reagan thinks, as she looks at her beautiful regal face and perfectly shaped breasts. Reagan can't believe that she's basically fully dressed and has already come. Carla reaches down to stroke Reagan's face.

"I love when you come for Mommy" Carla gushes, smiling, her cool thumb tracing Reagan's lips. Reagan looks more closely at Carla's smile.
Two sharp fangs.

Reagan gasps, realizing that Carla is ... Not human. She feels a terror that she has never felt before, slicing through her arousal. She screams, but before any sound can escape, Carla's palm is clamped over her mouth.

"Be a good girl for Mommy" Carla says, the affection of a few moments earlier replaced with a menacing edge. She roughly turns Reagan's head to the side. With a lightning fast movement, Carla bends down and drives her fangs into Reagan's neck.

Carla sucks on Reagan's neck, her fangs penetrating the delicate flesh of Reagan's throat. Reagan's scream is muffled by Carla's hand. Reagan thrashes wildly, trying to throw Carla off. But Carla is too strong, her powerful legs pinning Reagan in place.

Carla suckles at Reagan's neck hungrily, the taste of warm red blood filling her mouth. Reagan feels herself growing weaker as Carla drinks from her neck. Carla moans into Reagan's neck as she feeds hungrily.

The seating pain is replaced with a dull pleasure as Carla's feeding slows. Reagan whimpers helplessly as Carla's hand moves from covering Reagan's mouth to stroking her hair softly. Reagan feels a blackness surround her as her eyes flutter closed.

She passes out.