"Our city is pleased to have you here, Lady Nosferat..." said a man in a fancy suit, bowing before a lady with pale skin in a long, elegant black dress. "I hope you found everything to your liking?"
"I did... Thank you for your service..." the lady smiled, but behind that smile there was no kindness, only pure ice. "Be sure to visit us… for dinner, one night."
"Yes, I'll take your kind offer with gratitude. If you excuse me, Lady Nosferat, I have some urgent matters to attend to."
"Sure, go on," she nodded, dismissing him. The man bowed one last time, then left, leaving the lady in black standing before a grand mansion with her four elf maids.
V Nosferat, Morgana's first daywalker daughter, let out a tired sigh the moment she stepped into the mansion.
"Shall we retire to your quarters, my Lady?" asked the blonde elf maid. The other three bowed deeply as they escorted their mistress.
"Secure the place first," V said in a low voice, not bothering to look back.
"As you wish, my lady." The four maids bowed, then spread in all directions. They moved like shadows, like they weren't even there.
As for V, she made her way to the master room on the third floor. The mansion was a decent-sized one, not too big and not too small—fitting for a fallen noble lady with money in her pocket.
Weeks of precise movement, of barbed whispers and golden invitations. Her business in Vandor was complete.
All the golden lewd keys that Morgana gave her served their purpose. She handpicked the most desperate nobles in the kingdom.
Couples that lost hope in seeing the fruit of their love, people who wanted to express their inner selves but were afraid, and those who wanted to physically change themselves for whatever reason.
Thirty keys. Thirty lucky individuals got their hopes rekindled and their souls wrapped in the warmth of the Great Mother.
The Goddess Morgana.
"Sigh... that was tough," V let out a sigh, throwing her purse onto the bed and lying down, letting her body relax as she stared at the ceiling, recalling the last person she gave the golden key to.
A young girl. A merchant's daughter, young and soft and sweet enough to rot teeth.
V hadn't meant to choose her. Fate did. Or Morgana. Or whatever twisted muse guided V's unlife.
She met the girl at one of those cloying little tea parties nobles hosted when they wanted to pretend to be civilized, while their fingers slipped beneath tablecloths and dirty things were whispered in hushed voices.
The girl was born a commoner, but she was young, sweet, innocent, and beautiful, like a rose of spring. Her father was a wealthy merchant who forged his way to the top, but no matter how many gold coins he had in his pocket, he could not find happiness.
He wanted to become a noble, and one of the ways to do that was to marry into nobility.
The girl wanted to find her true love, but her father had already decided to marry her off to a third-rate baron with more titles than teeth, so he could have at least one of them.
The daughter didn't complain. She smiled. She bowed. She spoke gently of loyalty and repaying a father's love.
It was cute and very sad for one reason.
It was adorable. It was tragic.
And it was doomed.
Because the girl had a secret. One known only to herself and her mother.
A soft, hidden, taboo truth between her legs.
A penis.
She was a futanari—a rare gem in a kingdom like Vandor: zealous, xenophobic, allergic to anything that didn't fit their brittle, choking mold.
If her father ever found out? If her future husband did?
Bye-bye noble title, love, family. Just exile—or worse, burned at the stake.
The closer the day of the wedding came, the more depressed she became.
It was like her worst fear was coming to life.
V discovered the girl's truth when she casually used her vampire charm, trying to hear the latest gossip. So she decided to help her out—anonymously giving her the golden key and a note on how to use it.
"I hope she found her salvation," V murmured to the ceiling, her voice low, dreamy, and so, so tired.
Her gloved fingers traced the ridge of her collarbone, savoring the fading echo of a pleasurable memory.
Morgana's lips, eyes, voice, touch, the taste of her skin, and the... Ahem... that lewd thing.
It was all still there, ghostly faint as a dream upon waking. She could still remember how it felt to have that woman's body under hers, under her fangs. She could remember the thrill, the rush of that stolen intimacy—that wicked intimacy.
"I must be mad... I miss her so much."
The truth was, she was addicted to her, like a junkie whose soul cried out for the poison that had once saved it.
"Should I..." Her hand slid down her body, resting above her belly, just below the belt of her black dress. "...give her my first?"
Her question lingered in the silence, curling like smoke.
That thought was becoming more appealing by the day, but V decided to fight that urge for a while.
"After I finish laying the foundation of the organization," V said to herself as her finger inched lower and lower.
She closed her eyes. The scent of the goddess was still imprinted in her soul; roses and blood, sin and sanctity. A perfume no mortal nose could ever truly comprehend. It wasn't just longing—it was a need. The kind that hollowed you out from within until only devotion remained.
By nature, all vampires seek to be owned by their creator. And Morgana, the goddess of blood... was the definition of perfection.
"No... not yet," she whispered, almost pleading with herself. "Not until I've done what she asked of me."
Duty before desire. That's what she learned as a former assassin.
Morgana asked her to build a shadow guild, specialized in assassination, information gathering, and more.
Later, this would open doors for the organization to become a full-fledged religion of the Night Mother, based on two of Morgana's divine aspects:
Blood and Night.
And the best location to start building the shadow guild is the free city of Ardenholm, home to The Freehold of Ardan—
The third official kingdom, or a federation in this case, was established by a collective of races with humans, elves, and beastmen as the founders who ran away from the persecution of the Vandor kingdom.
The federation is ruled by a council of elders in a parliamentary fashion, and its primary focus and source of income comes from trading.
A safe, open trading hub for all races can be a... very lucrative place.
Even Vandor, who was against the federation and the absurd idea that the 'non-human' could rule, was forced to accept the union.
A good profit can force even a zealot to slightly change their worldviews.
Knock. Knock.
A soft knock on the door. V opened her eyes and glanced at the door.
"Come in."
"My lady..." the blonde elf maid stepped inside and bowed before her mistress. "All the barriers are in place."
"Good." V nodded. "Call the others. It's feeding time."
"!!!" The blonde maid's eyes opened wide with shock and excitement at the words. She bowed again, her arms to her chest as she swiftly spoke,
"Yes, my lady... right away!"
"Hehehe," V let out a chuckle as she watched the maid dash out of the room like a kid just handed a whole box of candy.
"I'm slowly changing without even realizing it," she murmured to herself with a smile on her lips.
Shortly after, all four elven maids stood before her with their eyes sparkling with joy.
Why? Because their lady was going to feed them her blood.
And how to do that? Well... the time V spent training with Morgana had greatly influenced her.
"Strip!" she ordered in a calm voice, standing with her arms held high.
"YES, MY LADY!" they answered in unison, dropping their clothes like a bunch of overexcited sluts. V didn't even have the chance to blink before she found herself naked as the day she was born.
'The maids really have swift hands... I didn't feel a damn thing.'
"Come," she said, lying back on the bed, spreading herself like an offering. "Feed."
The elf maids' eyes turned into slits, and their fangs grew, drool dripping from their mouths. They climbed on the bed one by one like wolves who'd been promised paradise in the shape of her skin. Their bare bodies glowed in the amber candlelight—four shades of elven perfection: slender, graceful, so utterly obedient to their mistress. And hungry. Gods, they were hungry.
They didn't speak. Didn't need to. Every step they took toward the bed was reverent, as if approaching an altar. V lay back among silk and shadow, pale as moonlight, legs parted, arms resting behind her head, utterly exposed.
"Start with the thighs," she said lazily, letting her tongue glide over one fang. "Then the hips. Then... wherever you want."
She didn't have to repeat herself.
The blonde maid was the first to kneel between V's legs. Her lips brushed the inside of V's left thigh, then again, higher. Her breath came fast, hot against that cool, pale skin. She licked and kissed with growing urgency—nipping, suckling, her tongue lingering on the dips and hollows, worshipping.
"You're a good girl, sweetling," V whispered, letting one hand slip down to caress the elf's head. "But you're thirsty. Drink."
The maid didn't hesitate. Her mouth opened, and her eyes rolled back as she pierced the flesh with a groan of pure, unbridled bliss.
"Ahhh~" V let out a breathy gasp, eyes fluttering. "T-there… that's it…"
The blonde maid sucked a few times, then pulled back, lips smacking. She lapped at the wound like it was a treat, then moved a little higher and pierced again.
The other three maids, seeing what their head maid did, quickly began to do the same.
One thing they learned was that their lady was very sensitive to pain and liked to be pierced with fangs.
It was like a drug to her—this was how she fed them.
Sucking blood from the neck? Boring!!!
It was a thousand times better to suck blood from the most intimate places.
"Mmmhh... fuck, this feels good..." V let out a moan.
The maids had stopped feeding and had become more frisky, rubbing their noses into her soft, pink pussy lips.
"My lady, you're so wet!" the blonde maid gasped, eyes wide in surprise.
"Mmhmm... do you want to help me with this problem?" V asked with a grin, licking her lips, making the maids jump with excitement.
"Please! Allow us to serve you in all ways possible, my lady!"