Conclave (Hypernaturals 3)

Iris's Tale

The redheaded water fight instigator is named Iris. It fits her, as I am sure she meant it to. Sure, Iris, the color is nowhere near red, but real Iris flowers cover the rainbow, and the thin, elongated leaves fit the way she looks. I don't know much about flowers: Mostly I classify them by their color or size, but there are a few I know. Orchids, because they are in my shower, Roses because everyone knows what a rose is. Iris's because they are cool looking flowers that look at lot like Orchids to me.

The hot tub crew soaked for a few hours, in and out of the tub. People coming and going. Most staying close enough to hear. Stories are being told, and Iris is in the middle of hers.

Even without having ever attended a Vampire hot tub party, I can tell that this part of the evening is why the parties are as popular as they are. It is not only the booze or the naked bodies or the raucous water fights, or the pairing or grouping up on the sidelines, although each of those has their appeal. The hot tub parties are also popular because of the stories.

I understood as I listened why Morgan would not miss one of these. This is where the history and the learning are done at a Conclave. Some paired or tripled or quintupled up and went off to lounge chairs or towels. Some dragged those chairs next to the Jacuzzi and cuddled, necked, ran all the sexual bases, and even listened. Some continued the drinking. Some drank from each other rather than booze, hands wandering. Lots of cuddling among those who stayed close. In the first circle of bodies in the hot tub, it is friendly but not intimate. Comrades together around the Vampire equivalent of a campfire, set to the soundtrack of moans from the farther away groupings.

If you want some full-on nookie, manners appeared to dictate you move away from the center. I guessed Helen, if she could be here, would be in this one particular group based off its variety.

The mood of the group is different now. I doubt my body being guarded is strictly necessary anymore, but Rachel and Morgan are firmly squeezed in on either side of me. Even when people moved away and created space, they stayed pressed into me. I would be less than honest if I did not admit that having two women I like a great deal pressing their skin against mine is extremely pleasant. The stories being what they are, it is not sexual so much as it is nice. With Rachel, it could never BE sexual, given my gender. Morgan is human and not on Jessica's permission list. Only Helen's name is there.

Iris's story is about being an unwilling serving girl for some Sheik a few hundred years ago. Her red hair attracted unwanted attention, and she had been kidnapped from a hotel in the city and whisked off to be the personal plaything of a powerful man. Being an unmarried British woman in Arab lands meant that there was little protection for her at that time, and her family never knew what happened to her.

It was sexual slavery, not unlike what Morgan uncovered going on in this very resort. We have not come very far as a species. Once the Sheik grew tired of her fair colorations novelty, he kept her in rotation with his other concubines. When he was not screwing her, he made her wait on him hand and foot.

Iris explained: "It wasn't so bad I guess. Sure, he basically owned me, but I knew girls who were taken by other men and beaten and tortured. Brutalized. Tied up. Sodomized. Shared around like everyday china. " She shrugged her thin shoulders. "I was treated pretty well, all things considered. He felt entitled to my body whenever he wanted it, but he was a good and considerate lover and he was proud of that. He was weird for a man of his world back then. He was not threatened by a woman coming. He wanted it. Hell, he demanded it. The only time I ever got in trouble from him is when he thought I faked an orgasm to make it stop. He spanked me so hard I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head, and he told me to never do that again. The next time we were together he went down on me till I came, then he fucked me for good measure. My body was not mine. He made it his." She looked around the faces. Read the stern expressions. "I know. I know. But what choice did I have? I learned a lot from him. Strange ain't it?"