Hello, My Name Is

0235d6b4bcedd5f4d9c83b91efd97cefMonday, January 5th

“My name is Eric Northman. I’m a sex addict,” he says in a monotone.

The room responds with a round of hellos and Eric cannot help but roll his eyes with contempt. It’s absolutely ridiculous that he, a thousand-year old vampire, is forced to attend a sex addiction therapy group. It’s even more ridiculous that this therapy group is geared to Supernaturals; these races are very sexual beings, and sex is an intrinsic part of their DNA. Why on Earth would anyone think Supes need help controlling their sexual urges? Eric Northman is a vampire. Vampires feed and fuck; it’s what they have done for centuries. But since the Great Revelation, vampires have been forced to control their urges. They can no longer hunt; feeding and fucking from whoever they want is no longer an option. Laws are now in place that vampires need to ask permission before feeding from a human. Ridiculous!

There are eleven Supes sitting in folding metal chairs arranged in a circle. In a twist of irony, the sex addiction meeting takes place in the basement of a family planning clinic. The meeting is presided over by Dr. Amy Ludwig. Supe doctors are protected by all Supernatural species, so she has no fear of being surrounded by Fae, Dae, Were, and Vampires. However, not all of these species get along with each other, so to make certain the meetings take place in a safe environment for all of those in attendance, each of the attendees are forced to enter into a magical contract with Dr. Ludwig. Failure to comply with the contract will result in death. The penalty may seem steep to some, but it is the only thing among Supernaturals that carries any weight. Eric resents having to sign the contract just as he resents having to attend this stupid meeting. Fucking pointless waste of time in his opinion! The only reason he’s here is because his queen is a bitchy cunt that doesn’t share well with others.

Dr. Ludwig looks at Eric expectantly but he remains silent. Frustrated, she asks the vampire, “Why are you here Eric?”

“Because I have to be,” he says shortly.

“Eric, the purpose of therapy is to share your feelings and experiences so that we can help you overcome your addictions. There is no need to be defensive or hostile. Tell the group what it was that ultimately led you to seek counseling.”

“I didn’t seek counseling,” he says belligerently. “I’m here as a punishment from the Queen. She took offense to me playing with her toys,” he says with a wicked smile.

Flashback – December 20th

Every year, the Queen of Louisiana hosts an annual holiday ball to benefit local children’s charities. The event takes place in a different city within her kingdom so that the money can be distributed around the state. In actuality, the ball may be sponsored by the Queen of Louisiana and she thinks up the theme for each year, but it is the responsibility of the area sheriff to pay for and plan the event. Unfortunately, this year has fallen on the shoulders of the Sheriff of Area Five, Eric Northman, as the party is in Shreveport. Rather than waste his time and attention on this ridiculous event, Eric Northman, known simply as The Viking, turned the planning of the event over to his second-in-command and progeny, Pamela. Outside of shopping, fucking, and torture, there is nothing Pam liked more than planning a party, no matter what the theme may be. She especially liked that she didn’t have a budget when it came to planning the holiday event. Because the Queen’s name is involved, everything had to be perfect. No cheap tablecloths or dollar store decorations would do for this event; silk tablecloths were adorned with the most exotic of poinsettia plants arranged around pure gold candelabra and real boughs of holly and pine are draped around the bar, and the centerpiece of the celebration is a real Santa’s workshop. The Queen had decided that this year’s theme would be Santa’s workshop, with none other than The Viking to play the role of the generous children’s benefactor.

Eric was less than pleased with his Queen’s pronouncement to say the least. Her annual charity event wasn’t out of the goodness of her heart; the self-serving twat didn’t have a heart! The only thing she cares about are the tax breaks the annual event gives her with the IRS and making sure that her outfit is the most expensive and her jewels are the most ostentatious among her guests. Even though the area sheriff pays for the ball, the Queen demands all of the receipts and claims them as a charitable contribution on her taxes. She only stays at the party long enough for the press to take her picture before leaving for more pleasurable pursuits. The Queen of Louisiana, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, despises children; she cannot stand the smell of them and thinks they look like circus midgets. The only reason she had chosen children to be the recipient of her supposed charity was because it enamored her with the masses; humans are suckers for children and animals in need. Fucking humans!

While the theme may be Santa’s Workshop, and the charity benefits children, the party is anything but child-like. The outfit Pam has arranged for Eric to wear looks more like a pimp suit than a Santa Claus outfit; it is a dark red crushed velvet fitted suit by Tom Ford that fits Eric’s muscular frame like a second skin. The pants and jacket have white fur piping along the edges. Underneath the jacket, he is to wear a white, slim fit t-shirt that enhances his muscular physique. Instead of handing out presents for children, Eric is to sit on his throne posing for pictures with those willing to pay the $1,000 donation.

“I look fucking ridiculous!” Eric stares angrily at his reflection in the mirror, ready to rip the offensive clothing off his body.

“At least I’m not making you wear a stocking cap to go with it,” Pam smirks from the door of his office. Because of the tight timeline for the evening, both Pam and Eric had opted to go to ground in the secret compartment underneath Fangtasia. Even if the bar was to burn to the ground, they would have been secure in their resting place; it is actually an old atomic bomb shelter held over from the Cold War. Of course, Eric had needed to renovate it to make it more technologically friendly. And Pam . . . Well she had felt the need to redecorate it because it wasn’t fashionable enough.

“Why is it you don’t have to wear a ridiculous costume?” Eric stares with fury at the glittery red cocktail dress his progeny is wearing. If he has to look like a fool, then she should have to suffer with him. It’s only fair after all.

Favim.com-9pam-kristin-bauer-kristin-bauer-van-straten-pam-pam-de-beaufort-159709

“This is my costume,” she says as she slides her hands down the sides of her Prada gown. “I’m going as Mrs. Claus. I’ve updated her look a bit though,” she smirks.

Before Eric can retort, Pam shoots him a cold glare. “If Sophie-Anne had her way, you would have worn a ratty suit with padding around the middle to make you look fat, and a fake white beard. You should be thanking me; I convinced her that this would work better.”

“Yes I suppose I should,” Eric says thoughtfully as he strolls towards his progeny’s side. “And I would have if I didn’t know you were the one to suggest the photo opportunity to the Queen. You know I hate touching the vermin,” Eric snarls as he twists his progeny’s hair painfully around his fist.

“Payback’s a bitch,” Pam says as she twists her head under the force of her maker’s hold. She glares up at him. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you put my favorite Gucci sweater in the dryer and shrink it so it doesn’t even fit a fucking Barbie doll!”

Eric growls at his progeny as he shoves her away from him. Pam immediately goes to the mirror to smooth her hair, her eyes shooting daggers at her maker while she stares at his reflection in the glass. Once she is satisfied that nothing is amiss about her appearance, she walks towards the office door.

“You know,” she says leaning against door frame, “you brought this on yourself. If you want to be mad at someone, then you don’t have to look any further than at your reflection in the mirror. While you’re at it,” she says with an evil smile, “you might want to practice looking jolly and happy for the pictures. The Queen will be very displeased if you scare away the suckers.”

Pam walks out of the office laughing at hearing Eric’s cursing in several different languages. There are workers running around the bar, seeing to the last-minute details before guests begin arriving at 9:00 pm. The Queen is so paranoid to make sure this party goes off without a hitch that she sent her favorite pet up to Shreveport yesterday to make sure that everything today would run smoothly. Pam had rolled her eyes and snarled at the Queen’s interference, but she has to admit that everything around the bar looks perfect. She had been surprised to find the Queen’s newest pet is actually competent and knows what she’s doing. Things are actually ahead of schedule and Pam is surprised she doesn’t need to threaten anyone or flash her fangs. In fact, she had nothing to do for the next hour or so.

“Eric,” she calls out. “I’m going to go find a snack. Make sure you stay out of the caterer’s way while they finish setting up.” Pam laughs again as she hears Eric snarl in his office. It’s a pity the Queen’s pet isn’t here; she would have done nicely to help Pam blow off some steam before tonight’s festivities. Perhaps the Queen will reward her later for all her hard work with some playtime with a donor of her choosing. Pam can’t stand the fucking bitch that rules Louisiana; Sophie-Anne is childish, spoiled, and completely irresponsible. She’s run her state into the ground with her frivolous spending, and she would be rotting in prison for tax evasion if it wasn’t for Eric and the other sheriffs bailing her badly dyed redheaded ass out. The only thing she had going for her in Pam’s opinion is her donor pool; they are the tastiest in the state. Sophie-Anne likes collecting the most exotic flavors of blood she can find. It helps keep her from getting bored with her limited food options.

Eric fumes in his office as he listens to the click of Pam’s heels across the bar floor as she walks out to find someone to feed on. If she comes back smelling like sex, Eric vows to fill every single pair of her Jimmy Choos with honey and shards of glass. This prank/retaliation war of theirs has been going on for decades. When will Pam learn that he will always win when it comes to this? He is the maker after all, though sometimes he thinks his headstrong progeny tends to forget that piece of information. And when he does lord the maker card over her head, the insolent chit goes running to his maker. Just once Eric would like to see Godric side with him instead of siding with the “baby” of the family.

Eric hears the catering staff milling about in the bar area. Vamping to the main floor of the bar, he stares in horror at the monstrosity that Pan has turned his beloved bar into. Gone is the dark, mysterious Goth vibe and in its place is a faux winter wonderland complete with snow, pine trees, and the staff are dressed as elves. It’s too fucking much for his warrior sensibilities to take.

“GET OUT!” His shouted words make all the humans freeze in their actions and stare at him with wide eyes. He picks up one of the trees, throwing it towards the largest grouping of humans as his fangs drop down. “GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I DRAIN YOU DRY!” The humans go scurrying out of the bar as quickly as possible, the bells on their shoes ringing loudly as they push and shove each other to be free of the Viking’s wrath.

Eric chuckles as the door slams shut behind the last of the human staff. He effortlessly picks up the tree and puts it back in place; the last thing he needs to hear is Pam’s voice bitching at him all night. It’s bad enough he’ll have to listen to the Queen’s complaints if things are not up to her “standards”.

“I’m not a fan of Douglas fir trees myself, but what did that poor tree ever do to you? Are you practicing Christmas tree discrimination? You know racism is considered a hate crime,” a cheeky voice says from behind him. Eric turns with an eyebrow raised to see who dares to defy his order. Both of his eyebrows shoot up when he takes in the sensual woman in front of him. She is not one of the catering staff; her clothing and jewels scream of fine quality, something his progeny would definitely admire.

1eb4fa938992b9b1afc3d19757fc289dThe woman’s lush body is expertly covered in a hunter green cocktail dress that looks like all it will take is one expert tug to have the dress falling off her like a bow coming undone. Her hair is swept to the side and falls over her left shoulder, the ends curling around her breast. She looks like the epitome of good health: flawless skin, suntan, and not a vampire bite mark anywhere to be seen.

Well, well, well . . . what do we have here?

“I’m more partial to the pine trees of my homeland,” Eric purrs as he walks closer to the vision before him. His eyes move with interest over her body as he moves closer. Her heartbeat is strong and steady, pulsing loudly enough for him to hear. He lifts her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the knuckles as his tongue slips out to tease her skin. His eyes lock on hers, smoldering with lust. He smirks when he sees and feels her heartbeat jump erratically. “Eric Northman. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss …”

Her lips twist in a grin before she replies. “I’m supposed to be one of the elves helping you this evening. Hence the green dress,” she says with a pointed look down at the delicate material of her dress. It doesn’t escape his notice that she intentionally avoided giving him her name. It doesn’t matter; he wants her, he will have her.

“Hmmmm,” he rumbles deep in his throat. “That’s a marvelous idea. Santa Claus definitely has a problem that needs the helping hands of his favorite elf.” Eric smirks as he lowers her hand to the bulge in his pants.

“Oh my,” she breaths as her hand grips his hard cock through the soft velvet. She licks her lips as her hand squeezes his cock before her finger moves tantalizingly up and down his length. “I’m happy to be of service Mr. Claus. Perhaps you need help stuffing the stockings. I can think of one in particular that needs your attention now,” she whispers seductively. His nostrils flare as he smells her arousal. It rolls off her like a cloud of perfume and it makes his fangs slide down.

“Dude if you have a hot girl touching your dick, why the fuck are you talking about stuffing stockings?” One of the members of the group, he’d introduced himself as Jason earlier, interrupts Eric’s story to ask his question. Eric stares at the man incredulously. He can tell he is a Were of some kind, but there’s another odor he cannot place; it’s sweet but not overpowering. It makes the scent of Were a little more bearable. He’s quite attractive, but clearly his luck in the looks department is to make up for the fact that he is dumber than alligator shit.

Jason duh face“Jason,” Dr. Ludwig says sharply and glares at him. “How many times must I remind you that you are not to interrupt the other group members when it is their turn to share?” Jason slumps in his metal folding chair, mumbling an apology. Dr. Ludwig glances at her watch then sighs heavily. “Unfortunately it seems as if that is all our time for this evening. We’ll meet again next Monday, same time. Mr. Northman will continue his story then and we’ll discuss any other issues that have come up.” The members of the group rise from their chairs; the non-undead stretching and shifting to ease the cramped muscles from sitting on the hard metal surfaces for the last two hours. For tonight’s session, Eric is the only vampire in the room. Maybe next week Pam should be forced to join him. He does still owe her for that Santa Claus suit after all.

“Mr. Northman a word if I may.” Dr. Ludwig’s voice rings out with authority, making it clear to everyone that he has little choice in the matter. Eric rolls his eyes as he watches the other patients scurry from the room, with Jason being the last to leave the room. He has grabbed several of the cookies from the refreshment table that was provided and is chewing furiously. However he still looks confused; he keeps scratching his head and looking back at Eric.

“Mr. Stackhouse I believe your sister is waiting for you. You don’t want to keep her waiting do you? I’m sure she has better things to do than sit in a cramped car after working all day,” Dr. Ludwig says in exasperation.

“Uh, sure thing Doc. Night man,” Jason says affably as he pushes open the door to the outside. “Oh hey Sis. Here, ya want a cookie?” Eric’s head snaps to the side and he inhales deeply; the sweet scent that clung to Jason is suddenly sharper and more intense. It smells like wheat, honey, and sunlight. The closing of the door causes the scent to fade a bit, but Eric is not about to let it get out of his reach. His foot lifts to take his first step when the diminutive doctor’s voice brings him to a halt.

“Need I remind you Mr. Northman that you are to fully cooperate with these sessions,” Dr. Ludwig states in a business-like manner. “As part of your punishment from the Queen of Louisiana, you are to attend counseling for your nymphomania for three months. In that time you are to abstain from all sexual activity, including masturbation. Failure to comply with this punishment will result in your confinement in silver for a period up to one year.” Eric growls as the doctor reminds him of Sophie-Anne’s ridiculous punishment. Telling a vampire he can’t fuck is like telling a bird it can’t fly!

“Thank you Dr. Ludwig for pointing out the obvious,” Eric says in a voice filled with quiet sarcasm.

“Fuck off vampire,” Dr. Ludwig says with a smirk and it only causes Eric to growl in frustration. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. And I’ll thank you to remember that everyone that attends these meetings is entitled to a safe haven while under my care. And that includes anyone that may come here as part of their therapy sessions,” Dr. Ludwig says archly before stomping out of the room, leaving Eric alone to seethe over how one slutty elf was the cause of the shitty start to his new year.

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24 Responses to Hello, My Name Is

  1. Heather says:

    Eric a Nympho!!! 🙂 Love it!! And of course Jason is there!!

  2. I still love it. I can’t wait to read more.

  3. vamplover669 says:

    OMG! This is priceless and I can’t wait for more.

  4. suzyq591suzy says:

    This is going to be so good — can’t wait to find out who the elf is 🙂

  5. lilloucfer says:

    Interesting start and concept 🙂

  6. VictoryInTrouble says:

    LOL! So much fun! I love how insolent Eric is. When you wrote that he had to wear a santa outfit, I thought I was going to read about the chidden witnessing Santa Claus fucking an elf or something, lol.

    • Oh hell no. I would not scar little children like that. I mean, I’ve corrupted children in other ways…teaching a 6 year old little girl to quote Jaws…giving a drum kit to my friend’s son. I corrupt in the good ways. 🙂

  7. ashmo2000 says:

    Well, that’s a shitty punishment for a vampire, especially one such as Eric.

  8. Kittyinaz says:

    Omg. Let the games begin!!!

  9. nordiclover says:

    this one is going to great…..

  10. msbuffy says:

    HA! It works if you work it! 3 months? Lord the first the woman he finds when that sentence is up!

  11. mom2goalies says:

    OMG! This is on a be great!! Love Eric’s attitude and the fact that Jason is there too. Think it’s gonna be a looooong 3 months for our Viking lol. Can’t wait for updates.

  12. Mindy781 says:

    This is beyond funny. What a harsh punishment for Eric. This is so much fun.

  13. So funny, in a twisted way, Eric a nymphomaniac!! HAHA. Let me guess the little elf was Haley, what a twat she and the Skanky-Ann deserve each other. Cannot wait for more.

  14. lostinspace33 says:

    Oh, this is going to be hilarious! 🙂

  15. redjane12 says:

    Ha ha ha… that is so funny… So Christmasy and so NAUGHTY!!! I guess if Eric offended Sophie-Anne, the elf has to be Hadley and that’s why Jason & Sookie smell somewhat similarly…
    3 months is long for a human but for Eric… When you live 1,000 years surely in the past he must have had to endure worse, with what famines, wars etc….

  16. kleannhouse says:

    loving his dirty way. KY

  17. murgatroid98 says:

    Oh, this is good. Poor Eric. That must have been Hadley. I wonder if she got punished. I also think his punishment is about to get much worse.

  18. askarsgirl says:

    I thought this whole idea was genius! I’m snickering just thinking about Eric sitting in a circle with a bunch of different supes confessing their sexual misdeeds.
    Can not wait for more!

  19. duckbutt60 says:

    I’m wondering if there is some magical spell “alarm bell” cast on Eric so that if he tries to rub one out, it’ll alert Dr. Ludwig. Heh…..if all of them have that kind of spell cast on them, she could be driven crazy by alarms going off all day and night 🙂
    Birds gotta fly…..bees gotta buzz…..vamps gotta f…….. the way of the world…..

  20. saldred75 says:

    hmm, I thought maybe sookie was the naughty elf? now I’m not so sure

  21. anem72 says:

    I couldn’t stop laughing at the first line!!!! The vision was so vivid it was hilarious (no scene setting needed) – that has to be the most perfect line for Eric Northman EVER! I’m guessing Hadley was the naughty elf and why Eric is there. Brilliant and such a novel idea, love it!

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