Vampire Food 08: He Smelled Like Peach Pie by Kat Barrett Page A

as she closed her eyes. She envisioned Rory and now the wondrous vision she had just been given of Russell’s naked body.
    Mia had wanted to ask Salt to show her what anal sex was like, but he had wanted to get back to Em. What must it be like to have three such devoted men? She could almost feel their hands on her naked skin, Rory kissing her mouth as Russell lay on her opposite side, fondling her breasts.
    The sound of ghosts was in the air, the soft whisper of their voices coming from the opposite side of the room. Prickles ran up her spine, but Mia refused to open her eyes to them. They would ruin her growing illusion and squelch the warm glow in her pussy. The ghosts were welcome to watch if they wanted, she honestly didn’t care.
    Her hand slid up to her breast, and as she began to stroke the flesh, she was stopped dead by the sound of footsteps on the slate floor. Ghosts didn’t wear shoes that clicked upon the stone.
     
    * * * *
     
    Salt glared at her. “So what did Mia say or, more aptly, ask?”
    “You truss me up like a Christmas hog and then ask me what Mia said?”
    “I don’t think they were referring to hanging you spread-eagle with chains around your wrists and ankles with that particular saying. Yes, I’m asking.”
    “Mia wanted to know what it was like to be whipped. I explained in a way that made it sound rather undesirable to her at the current time. I told her that she needed to gain more experience first. She is a crafty little shit.”
    Salt chuckled. “Yes, she is. Just like her idol.”
    “I’m crafty?”
    “Very.” He snapped the whip hard against the stone wall behind him. The sound echoed through the room, seeming to penetrate her ears like a virtual vibration that flowed throughout her entire body. She had told Mia that he preferred a cattail, but on this night as if to prove her wrong, he had a regular bullwhip. It had been shaved down to allow for the limited space, but the leather was no less menacing. It coiled like an angry snake under Salt’s gifted hand, lashing and striking around her with effervescent crackles of sound. He had yet to actually hit her with it, but the threat of pain hung in the air like a tangible force.
    Salt hung the whip around his neck, walking closer to her. “I would love to be a fly on the wall the first time she experiences it. Maybe we should let her come in and watch. We can tie her up and give her a small display.”
    “I’m not really into voyeurism, my sweet.”
    Lifting the thinly cut end of the whip to hold it in his palm, he wiggled it over her nipple. It created a slightly ticklish sensation that was oddly arousing. “I’m well aware of that. I do believe that you would have no say in the matter because you would be shackled and mute.”
    He was moving the leather, and also shifting his hand down the thin shaft. It was slowly building momentum, the strand becoming father and farther away from his grasp to allow for more fluctuation. It was no longer just striking her nipple, but lashing up and down over her entire breast. It was making Em nervous because he was barely missing her face with it. She leaned her head back slightly, trying to avoid the menacing flash of leather.
    Salt chuckled. “Don’t trust me?”
    “I do trust you, but it would only take a small slip to have that biting into my chin or my cheek.”
    “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He tore the whip from his shoulders, snapping it in the air and lacing it across her stomach. Em quivered, the instant pain it caused intentional. The next strike was softer, creating an X across her abdomen before he began to walk around her body. The sound of it hitting the floor was loud, searing through her brain. It cracked the chains above her head and then lower, hitting the upper portion of her arm. Crack against the table, the wood vibrating before the whip collided with her back. Em jerked forward, and then realized that he really hadn’t hit her all that hard. The next one