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What The Master Wants	By : PolterGlitch Category: -Misc TV Shows > General Views: 1847 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own THE STRAIN fandom or any of the characters and I make no money from this fiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four - The Master's Gift
It took the Master many hours to doze off to sleep. Eichhorst slept soundly cuddled up to him, purring peacefully with cute quiet snores but that was not what kept him up. His mind was awash with all sorts of feelings he had never felt before in all his thousands of years... Seeing Eichhorst happy gave him a warm fulfilling glow... as did the surprised look on Justine's face when he had pumped her throat full of strigoi cum. The Master found himself in turmoil... perhaps there was more to life than world domination?
Giving people pleasure aroused him... however he was unsure whether driving the fear into lesser beings turned him on more...
He had only been in slumber for a couple of hours when he was pleasantly woken by the German nibbling lasciviously on his neck. Eichhorst had a grin spread across his face as if he had eaten a banana sideways.
“Good morning Thomas,” he smiled back at him.
The Master could feel his newly developed erection so grabbed his waist to thrust him on top of him and embellish all his naked glory.
“I trust you like your new gift?”
“Yes Master,” Eichhorst answered like a giddy schoolgirl. “I really cannot thank you enough. You are divine.”
The Master massaged his hips with his thumbs and grinned at him. His stinger protruded and playfully rubbed his shaft. Eichhorst edged his crotch closer to him and the Master allowed him into his mouth. It seemed only fair that he should taste him first; it was most definitely what Eichhorst would have wanted. The Master could take him into his throat without any difficulty and began sucking and running his teeth along his member. The glint in his eye told Eichhorst he was testing out how much pain he could tolerate. He gave an approving moan – he liked it, even more so when the Master slipped a cheeky finger into his ass. Everything was going perfectly until Eichhorst uttered the three words the Master loathed:
“I love you,” he sighed adoringly. “I love you so much...”
The Master gave an internal groan. He cared about Eichhorst a great deal but love was still something that was alien to him and he was beginning to resent him constantly pressuring him to say it back. Wasn't the fact that he was sucking his dick enough for him? The fact that he had even blessed him with a dick in the first place!
He did not let him see his displeasure but his hard-on was deflating. Eichhorst was quite the opposite; the Master could feel him jerking in his mouth.
“I'm going to cum my lord,” he panted, almost as if asking permission.
And he did, unloading his own white straight into the back of the Master's mouth who greedily gulped the hot salty liquid down. It was over in less than two minutes, the Master wondered if his blowjob skills were truly exceptional or if Eichhorst was simply a very quick finisher. He sat up abruptly, ignoring him leaning in for a kiss.
“Can I do anything for you?” he asked pawing at him.
“Yes. Food I am starving,” he snapped, brushing his rogue hands away and standing up. “And make sure Justine is ready for us. You can join in today.”
Eichhorst nodded, trying and failing to hide the disappointment in his face as he got dressed. Again, he had to bite his tongue as to not question him. He was about to leave when the Master realized that he could still have a use for him.
“Wait.”
Eichhorst's face lit up as he turned around, “Yes great one?”
“I need to pee.”
He pondered at first how he could help with that and then the Master nodded his head, signaling for him to get to his knees and he realized. Ever the submissive, he obeyed and opened his mouth for the Master to fill it with frothy overnight piss. He pulled his hair and craned his head back far enough for it to hurt and made sure he swallowed every drop.
“There's a good Nazi,” he sneered, thinking that would teach him for daring to say those three horrible words to him.
But killing his erection was a crime and a vile mood descended on him.

Eichhorst retreated to the kitchen, yet again feeling hurt and used. Why did his Master treat him this way? He could not understand what he had done wrong and daren't ask. He had vowed to treat him better but yet again it was another promise he had broken. His constant mood swings and mixed messages were getting tiresome. One minute they had been caressing and the next he was as cold as ice. Not that he minded the Master's pee but he got the impression he was only doing it to humiliate him rather than for sexual gratification. Why? Besides, he would have much preferred his cum - the white. His urine had no restorative qualities whatsoever. An equally dark mood fell on him. He seethed with frustration, bitterness and jealousy.
He made him breakfast in the form of a few pints of B positive blood from amphetamine users coupled with a large line of cocaine. The Master had developed a fondness for drugs and this surprise would surely pick his spirits back up. He sent one of the other servants to see to Justine; he had no desire whatsoever to speak with her. He wondered if what the Master meant by him joining them would be to simply have him watch as he fucked her with a passion that should have been all for him. The dark lord could be cruel sometimes. Secretly, he hoped that she had escaped.
The Master emerged from his room a short while later wearing a robe and black leather trousers. He ate his breakfast slowly looking up between mouthfuls at Eichhorst sitting opposite him. He could tell he was agitated by the way he stared out of the window trying everything he could to avoid his gaze. And the way he nibbled furiously on his nails – he only did that when he was annoyed. He remembered how amusing it was to toy with him and couldn't help but smirk. His petty angst was entertaining but in the end he always went back to him and gave him lovings.
“I want to watch you fuck Justine today,” he said rapping his nails on the table.
“I would rather fuck you.” Eichhorst shot back.
“You can... if you are good,” the Master teased.
“Humans are for drinking not fucking,” Eichhorst muttered bitterly.
The Master decided he was no longer going to yo-yo between them both. Today, they would be an uncrowded couple of three. Plus, he figured it may do Eichhorst some good to let him loose on a woman; with any luck he would fall in love with her instead. He hoovered up his line of coke and knowing full well that now he had started he was going to go full throttle, he ordered Eichhorst to bring the stash. He was pleasantly surprised when he returned with a kilo bowl of the stuff. Fair play to Eichhorst, he was very resourceful. Now he was fully equipped to play with Justine.

The Master had given Justine her own room and a wardrobe full of sexy outfits to wear and despite being under strigoi guard, she had made no attempt to be free. Clearly, she was eager for more of his cock. He gave her a twisted smile when he entered the room and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed with a figure hugging low cut black dress on. She pulled off sophisticated sexy exquisitely. Her breasts were almost bursting out of it, exactly how he liked them. Her golden hair was curled neatly for him and her eye make-up was dark with complimenting slutty red lipstick. For a human, he had to admit she was stunning. His dick was already coming to life.
“I've been waiting for you Master,” she said, eyeing his expanding pants.
Her face dropped when she saw Eichhorst walk in. He had been trailing behind carrying the bowl on a tray and cheekily dipping his fingers into it.
“Hello there Miss Feraldo,” he grinned, a wild coked up expression on his face. “You can pleasure me first!”
All he wanted was for her to suffer, to take every bit of his hatred out on her. But even he had to admit that she looked good. Back when he was human, blondes and make-up were his kink. .
“Give me that,” the Master said snatching the tray from him.
He climbed onto the top of the bed and fluffed up the pillows to lean back against, getting himself in perfect position for the show he was about to witness.
“Show me what you've got Thomas,” he said as he chopped himself another line, triple the size of the previous one that he'd had only had minutes ago. “Show me that I did the right thing in blessing you with a cock.”
Eichhorst gladly joined him on the bed. Justine leaned back as a different fear crept into her. Granted, she had been repulsed by the Master at first but she could see past his demonic appearance once he had gifted her with the white. However Eichhorst did not possess any of those qualities and despite looking like a handsome smartly dressed human, she knew him to be a bloodthirsty Nazi strigoi. A bloodthirsty, coked up Nazi strigoi. Justine looked pleadingly at the Master,
“I'm really only interested in you...”
“Shut up!” the Master shouted. He sighed – it was tough being popular. The pair knelt at the end of the bed, two pairs of eyes transfixed on him. “Both of you are here to serve me. You are my slaves. And now I want to watch you serve each other. You are or were once human, something I have never been so I want to see what you can do.”
Eichhorst obliged – anything to please the Master and he was desperate to try out his cock. It had been over seventy years since he had been with a woman or indeed possessed a cock, one of the downfalls of becoming a strigoi. He'd been infatuated with the Master since then.
He had no desire to be a loving partner to Justine – he hated her with a passion. All he wanted to do was make her suffer. She expected as much – the Master had started exactly the same way. Maybe it was a strigoi thing?
“You are mine, bitch,” he snarled.
He took hold of her dress and tore at the delicate fabric to get at her juicing cunt that he could smell with his enhanced strigoi sense. He knew that she was already a little wet with anticipation.
“You're gagging for it aren't you, you dirty human slut,” he sneered as he leaned in to her crotch and took a long perverse sniff. “I can smell you.”
Justine recoiled and snapped her legs shut, “I'm not gagging for you, asshole.”
Eichhorst did not care; he was not there to please her and with one swift motion he threw her over onto her belly, pinning her down by pressing her face into the duvet. The dress was backless, exposing perfect pale flesh. All Eichhorst wanted was to drain her. His stinger slipped out of his lips and he glanced at the Master, who shook his head disapprovingly.
Eichhorst then moved in towards her ass. His sharp fingers raked through her dress and he grinned at the satisfying sound of tearing fabric. A pair of sexy pink velvet knickers covered her, which Eichhorst effortlessly snapped. Justine squirmed beneath him in protest, a little unnerved at his savage demeanor combined with his strigoi strength.
She felt the full brunt of that supernatural strength when his icy hand spanked her. Justine let out a high pitched scream, sure that he had broken the skin but Eichhorst was without mercy. He leaned in and hissed menacingly,
“Worthless human. You are nothing. The Master anointed me as number one. You will never be anything to him other than a meal.”
The Master rolled his eyes; Eichhorst's pettiness was annoying. The red hand prints on her buttocks were good to watch but the rise of his hard-on was counteracted by the appearance of the ugly green monster that plagued him. He gave up on the tedious task of chopping neat little lines (he needed significantly more to buzz anyway given his size and the fact that he was the Master) and instead lazily dunked his stinger in the bowl, gobbling up enough cocaine to make five grown men overdose. He pulled his phone from his pocket and stuffed two headphones in. An old Lady Gaga album (she was his guilty pleasure) complimented his incoming coke rush perfectly and also drowned out Eichhorst's blabbering.
Eichhorst fully extended his arm above his head and brought his hand down with a force fueled by rage and jealousy. His palm connecting with her wound made her scream in pain. This time pools of crimson liquid began to form and the proud woman was reduced to whimpering.
In his peripheral he saw the Master jerking his member with a crooked drug-addled grin on his face as his sadistic side awakened, enhanced greatly by the cocaine, which was surging full throttle through his body now. Seeing him pleased brought to life Eichhorst's cock and he smacked Justine again. The unforgiving crack on her skin even made the Master cringe a little so he topped up with yet more coke.
“Stop doing that you sick bastard, it hurts!” she yelled at him.
“Stop your pathetic whining,” Eichhorst snarled.
Justine quivered as the former S.S. officer slowly shuffled around the bed toward her upper half. She turned her head toward the Master and gave him a pleading look of desperation. All she got back was his twisted smile that was rapidly morphing into a gurn. His expression offered no clue as to what he was thinking other than he was as high as a kite.
If eyes were the window to the soul, his cocaine shutters were pulled firmly down. There were moments where he seemed to drift off completely, lost in a parallel universe made of drugs and powered by cheesy pop music and uncontrollable gurning.
Eichhorst lunged in at her so that his face was millimeters from hers and hissed, “How about I give you something to stop your pitiful sniveling.”
He straightened himself up to kneel in front of her and crudely rubbed his enlarged crotch. Again, Justine knew what she had to do. She got up onto all fours, closed her eyes and opened her mouth figuring sucking his dick was preferable to being beaten. However, the sound of Eichhorst's fly unzipping filled her with dread, she knew for a fact the act would not have a nice ending, unlike with the Master.
“One by one I'm going to fill every single one of your holes with strigoi glory,” Eichhorst said triumphantly.
The Master was impressed with his savagery. He had snapped back to reality when he'd heard Justine's raised voice. It was refreshing to see Eichhorst being dominant instead of hanging off his every word with that gooey look in his eyes. Sometimes, he simply wished he would take him off the pedestal he had put him on.
The dribbling blood on Justine's exposed ass compelled him to join in; he unplugged his headphones, placed his coke on the bedside table and crawled to the foot of the bed positioning himself behind her. Eichhorst felt a huge breath of relief escape her nostrils as she felt his massive presence draw closer.
The Master studied her rounded buttocks, decorated in red raw hand marks with little streams of blood flowing into the valley that was her ass crack, which he realized he was yet to taste. He soon rectified this, extending his long tongue onto her skin to lavishly lap up the crimson rivers then circle her asshole. Her pussy had dried up almost completely thanks to Eichhorst's extreme violence. Again, something he could fix with a simple prick of his finger and a droplet of his white into her wounds. Immediately she emitted a healthy glow as her wounds healed and all of Eichhorst's torture was undone. The Master then slipped his tongue into her pussy to catch the impending orgasm.
Justine moaned uncontrollably as her pussy contracted and she came; the Master's white working its magic. Whilst the vibration of her voice felt good against Eichhorst's throbbing cock, the interruption of her rhythmic sucking did not. Even worse, the sight of the Master releasing his essence to her was like a knife to his heart.
“Did I say you could stop?!” he screamed at her slapping the top of her head with all his might.
He looked down her body at the Master. Her ass obscured his face from the nose down but he was shooting him an ominous glare, his pupils so dilated they almost eclipsed the fire around them. Justine stifled a cry and hurriedly got back to sucking.
The Master extended his arm underneath her and twiddled her nipple. He had to give those tits some attention. He was enjoying the taste of her cunt. It was not as good as her blood but it made his cock ache to be inside her again. Some anal stimulation would have been good too. Eichhorst could provide that as long as he refrained from from being a jealous moron, which remained to be seen. He remembered how good his stinger had felt in him and his cock would feel even better. For the time being, he continued exploring the goodness between her legs with his tongue. He wanted to savor her human taste. Justine quivered – his touch was electrifying. He was approaching her clit, he knew he could guarantee more orgasms if last time was anything to go by, when he was interrupted by something slobbering on the back of his neck. It was none other than Eichhorst's wandering stinger. He sat up abruptly and threw it back at him. All he wanted was five minutes without him falling all over him. Five fucking minutes!
His annoyance grew. Every grain of cocaine he had consumed had chipped away at his patience. He began to regret his decision of letting Eichhorst join in; it was foolish of him to think that he would be interested in Justine and would constantly harass him instead. Cocaine induced rushes tore through him exposing the more feral side of his species and cranked his jaw so tight he felt it would snap. His fingers involuntarily contorted into stiff rigidity. His heart sped up as if it was counting down to explode while he violently twitched. Primal guttural hisses and snarls escaped through his chattering vampire teeth that sounded like he had regurgitated them up from the depths of hell itself.
“Master I just wanted to -” Eichhorst chose the absolute worst time to speak.
Hearing his high pitched voice saying his name pushed him over the edge. A coke and Eichhorst induced rage exploded from him as the drugs possessed him and snatched a large part of his mental faculties. His plans were ruined. His monstrous fury drowned out any sexual desire. He grabbed Eichhorst by his jaw before he could finish his sentence, launched him off the bed and sent him hurtling into the far wall.
“Thomas you fucking Nazi! Why do you always have to fuck things up with your soppy needy possessive bullshit?” he roared at him. “You can't help yourself can you, always wanting more, thinking you are more special than everybody else. Your purpose is nothing more than to do whatever the fuck I tell you, whenever the fuck I want it without question! Stop pouring your dumb animal love on me, I fucking hate it, I'm way too evolved for that utter shit, your stupid Nazi mind is far inferior to mine, clearly by the way you are under the delusion that you could ever mean anything more to me than a fucking slave.”
Eichhorst clambered to his hands and knees, insisting to himself that the Master did not mean the nasty venom spewing from his mouth. The cocaine was talking for him and had quite literally taken control of his jaw, which was half way to the next state through gurning. When he was sober, he was not a big talker and when he did speak he very rarely swore - he was majestic and dignified, a far cry from the frenzied semi clothed babbling demon he'd transformed into.
“Forgive me Master but I think you need to ease off on the drugs; they are making you angry,” he said trying to remain calm.
“No, YOU are making me angry. Get out. Go hunt some Jews or something oh no wait, you can't even do that right. Just fuck off, I do not want to see you fucking leering or slobbering at me again you stupid Nazi freak...I am not surprised you couldn't get a fuck when you were a human you dumb desperate degenerate cunt, you were useless back then too, you couldn't even sell a fucking radio, you're shit at everything, nobody likes you, fuck you,” his head twitched with strigoi ticks, maniacal torettes and a devilish growl to polish off the slurred rant.
Eichhorst scowled like a petulant child trying to resist the urge to remind him that he had not complained when he had gifted him his first sexual encounter of taking his stinger up his ass and bathing in his shit, or that he had been the one to instigate it. Every time they had been intimate, he had started it! But it didn't make his outburst any less hurtful. His insecurities stirred and he wondered if he had meant it when he'd said he was nothing to him. Had he been manipulating and using him for all this time, after making him believe they were friends, or more?
“If that's the way you feel then I will leave,” he finally snapped as tears welled in his eyes.
He stood up and marched angrily towards the door before he could give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he had hurt him. It was exactly what he thrived on; he had seen him torment others many times before but had always hoped that he would never fall victim to it himself.
The Master's fury grew and he started panting to the point where he was almost hyperventilating. Justine started to panic as he dug his claws angrily into her shoulders and a luminous orange light lit up his bulging eyes, then simultaneously flashed into Eichhorst's rendering him dumbstruck and under his control as one of his puppets. It gave her her a chilling reminder that he was a merciless vampire capable of mind control. If he was this vicious to his right hand man, what would he be like with her if she annoyed him? And why was she having sex with him?
“You are not going anywhere. You will stand there and watch me fuck her,” he commanded. “And I am going to fuck her so fucking hard and cum so fucking much and its going to be fucking great because I won't have to see that stupid look on your face or hear you constantly gushing over me! You stand there in silence and you watch knowing you could have had this if you weren't so FUCKING infuriating!”
Eichhorst was powerless to protest or resist standing like a statue with his eyes glued to them. Locked inside his head, he was screaming. His heart was breaking.
The Master was fuming that he had to waste some of his mental energy in punishing Eichhorst when he should have been focusing everything on making Justine squeal. What would it take for him to reel in his obsessive infatuation with him and just be a good devoted servant with none of the attached emotional bullshit? Did he not realize by now that it freaked him out?
He turned back to the trembling woman pinned beneath him. His ranting and raving had transformed her into terror personified. There was only one thing scarier than the Master and that was him coked up and enraged. She lay flat on her stomach, the side of her face pressed into the duvet and her blue eyes so wide all the whites were visible.
“You will look at me when I am fucking you,” he said sternly as he forcefully flipped her onto her back.
He realized he had been digging his talons into her skin and quickly let go. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, trying to push that exasperating German to the back of his mind so he could see through the red mist.
“I'm so sorry beautiful. I didn't mean to scare you,” he said softly stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “It's just us now. I should not have brought him in but truth be told I felt sorry for him. I like to take care of my spawn. I want to take care of you too. I will give you every thing you ever wanted. I've never come across a human I have cared about the way I do for you. And you know I can make love to you beyond your wildest dreams. Whenever you need me, I will be there.”
Justine was an intelligent woman and no amount of phenomenal sex would make her fall for his lies or empty promises. Even the most simple minded could tell his words were for Eichhorst's benefit not hers. All he wanted to do was crush his feelings even more than he had already.
His eyes glided in his direction as if to gauge his reaction and the corners of his lips curled into a smirk. It was only a millisecond before he switched back to his staged doting gaze on her but his high had outed his true intentions.
Justine could not believe it when she found herself actually feeling sorry for Eichhorst. Whether he meant it or not, The Master had hurled some deep personal insults at him. It was no wonder he was screwed up if this was the abuse he had been subjected to for decades.
She reverted back to her original opinion of the Master: he was an asshole. Spectacular in bed but an unholy demonic asshole devoid of any empathy. With his huge body pressing down on top of her and his blood sucking, soul stealing stinger waiting to spring from behind his teeth, she decided it would be wise to keep her thoughts to herself and go along with him.
“What do you think?” he persisted. He cupped her breasts and squeezed. “Stay here with me and be my queen? I'll pump you full of the white every day.”
“How could I refuse,” she said forcing a smile.
“Good human.”
He suddenly thrust his dick inside her taking her by surprise. A crooked grin spread on his face and he pulled her legs up so that his cock rammed further inside her. She wasn't particularly moist; his terrifying outburst had dried her up. That soon changed once he got going. Next he put his arms around her back and lifted her up so they were upright against each others' torsos. Justine's head only reached to his chest so he had to crane his neck to meet her face. She looked up and kissed him only for him to respond by drooling over her cheek, missing her mouth completely.
His co-ordination was a bit out; the coke hadn't fully worn off yet and he was still glancing at Eichhorst, who's blank, possessed expression masked total devastation.
Justine tried to attract his attention back to her, guiding his head so he could kiss her properly as she rocked up and down his pulsing cock. She stroked his face and pointed ears then erotically ran her red fingernails down his neck to his back, in a slow circular motion. The Master shuddered, the scratching against his skin was tantalizing. In their new embrace, he was still just as good as before. He gave low grunts, gradually increasing in volume as he approached climax.
“Does that feel good my love?” he said as he gave his final jolts.
Justine's juices were flowing too, appreciatively washing down his shaft. She nodded. For now, she could see past his evil tendencies and luxuriate in his sexual power. He held her shoulders and pushed her down hard against his cock. He gave a last sly glance towards Eichhorst, then felt himself twitch as the white squirted into Justine's waiting pussy accompanied by an exaggerated moan. It was only when he pulled out that he finally released his hold over him and shot him a heinous sneer.
With his freewill returned, Eichhorst wasted no time in storming out of the door and into the bar, booting every bit of furniture in his path in a destructive rage. The morning had began so well – how had things deteriorated so badly? He drained a bottle of schnapps, hurled it against the wall and screamed in devastation. He had no more tears to shed over him and his cruel games. He knew it would not have happened had he been sober but still he would never get an apology. Well if he loved his drugs that much, he could have them, Eichhorst thought bitterly. Next time he wanted a cocktail, he would give him one to remember then he would see who was the 'dumb degenerate cunt'.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty for wishing ill on him. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shut out the constant hum of his voice within him. But he was done with being second best. Like many times before, the Master had built his hopes up only to bring somebody else in and tear them down. He felt as if he had ripped his heart from his chest, chewed it up, spat it out and stamped on it. It was time to take action and there was only one option for that bitch Justine:
She had to die.
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What The Master Wants