So
lie back in that bed of yours. It's growing dark outside, and your eyes are so
very heavy. Yes, just ignore the slightly chill coming in from your window. You
left if barely cracked open, or... did you? It makes the air chill with this
rainy autumn weather, but your bedsheets will get you nicely cozy. What does it
matter that you've invited in more than just the cold this night? Yes, cuddle
up nice under them as the clawing shadow reaches along your walls and creeps
silently into your bedroom.
Ahhh,
that feels good doesn't it? The soft warmth of your sheets lying heavy over
your barely clad body. What is it, only panties tonight? Nothing feels better
than basking in the warm oven under those sheets while your face feels the
crisp chill of an autumn night breeze. That's what you have thought until now,
my dear. Until my shadow brisks by your cheek. A cold, electric sensation that
inches down your exposed neck to feel the pulse of your blood. And lowers
still, under the darkness of your sheets, to feel your tender and ripe tits
with an ethereal squeeze from base to their hardening tips.
The
dark breeze, how it makes you breathe in deep and let out a wanting sigh. Your
nipples can't lie about how much you like this unholy pleasure, becoming taut
and rising to meet the pinch of my tenebris hands. I watch from the foot of
your bed to see you squirm and let out those little moans beneath your
fluttering eyes. The lower I draw my claws, down your exposed ribs, down the
smooth of your belly, down the satiny smooth of your panties, the more you
writhe for me. Good girl... It's enough to make a dead man drool from the savor
of it.
Let
that cold shadow take hold of your panties. It's just the wind, remember? Just
a pleasant dream, this sensation of me tugging down the only barrier between
us. The only thing protecting your pussy from my gaze is now about your knees,
tied up around your ankles, and then... gone. Discarded on the floor by my
feet. I lick over my sharped fangs. It's hard not to sate my thirst for you
right there, feeling the ripe puff of your fertile lips, the vital warmth of
living, maidenly pussy. How much of your sweet blood fills those vibrant folds,
growing pinker and juicier the more my fingers trail over them. You will be my
plaything tonight, sweet girl.
Open
your eyes. Yes, it is still just your dream. I am your dream, the man standing
at the foot of your bed with the glowing yellow eyes. Stare into them. Let my
will dominate over yours. How good it feels to let my thoughts overshadow
yours, to let down your guard despite the thrill and terror running through
your beating heart. It only fills your veins with excitement and energy, an
energy that burns so hot inside your belly and between your legs. So hot, so
terribly hot, hot enough that you need to cool off. Need to pull off those
sheets. Pull them off and lay back in the cool as naked as I have made you.
Mmm,
yes, good girl. Lie back and spread your legs. How good it feels to have my
eyes on yours, that cool breeze licking against your moistening slit. But all
the better to sense my approach, to feel the actual sting of my claws against
your calves. Dragging, scratching up the tender insides of your thighs. The
flash of my pearly fangs drawing close to your unprotected sex frightens you,
thrills you, makes your thighs tremble and your pussy drool. Yes, slicken up
your hot sex for me, my tender girl. I hunger this night, and I will drink from
you every ounce of your lifeforce, starting here...
A
long lick that flicks out against your clit. Ahhhh, the savor of maidenly
fertility. Of innocence. Of fear. Your breasts offer up no resistance to my
shadows as they grip and play about them, squeezing and pinching your tender
tips. But my claws drag open your thighs further, weighing their trembling down
with the lightest push as I salivate and spear my tongue into your tightness.
No, it's too heavy to resist, the shadows chaining your limbs to the bed. Look
into my eyes, gazing up into yours from the rise of your mound. A kiss atop it
is enough to steady your frightened hips. Steady even as I drag the sharpness
of my fangs down along it and sink them about your tender clit...
A
pinch, a sharp pain, and then... Pleasure. How good it feels to have my lips
clamped about your clit, massaging and pressing and kissing your most tender
flesh as your essence pours freely from it. Every few moments the rough of my
tongue slips out to taste of your quim that pours freely from your sex like sap
from a wounded tree. To spice the metallic ambrosia of your blood, pumping
recklessly into and around your aroused and needy cunt. Can you feel the quiver
of it every time I drag my lapping tongue along its extent? The way your womb
twitches and warms with every loud slurp and suckle I deliver to your helpless
clit? Yes, arch up in your bed. Showcase your tender mounds of your breasts to
my gaze. You want them to be suckled too, don't you? To feel the kiss of a
vampire along their needy slopes...
Ahhhh,
it will suffice, this appetizer that is your wanting sex. With one last lick
the twin punctures about your clit cease their flow. Even still your quivering,
quaking pussy does not. How slick and glistening your pussy has become, your
own pleasure mingling with my drool. Inviting, but for a different kind of
penetration. A penetration that a fertile morsel like yourself cannot ignore. I
rise up, kissing along the flat expanse of your belly. How it can be so much
more once I bring you fully into my charge, my tasty girl. And with me my
shadow rises too, crossing over your cheeks and neck with the cold kiss of what
is to come as that same sharp pinch and gentle sucking finds your generous tit
right above your nipple.
Lapping,
suckling, playing about your poor breast. It has fallen victim to the vampire
as well even as pleasure surges through your veins as I drain from them. Even
now you want to buck your hips, the fear in you wishing to escape. But it isn't
fear that makes your pelvis rise up against me, but arousal. Lust. You can
sense the stiffness of my member dragging up along your thigh. The yielding
pillow of your tits gives way to my feeding moan, my face pressing in at one
moment and tugging against your tender peak the next, the pain spicing the
pleasure than burns ever brighter in those writhing hips. Yes, dear girl, you
want to become mine. More than just my meal, but my convert. My servant. My
newest mate.
There
is no resisting it now. More and more your mind swirls around the idea, the
need to please and serve me. Look into my eyes and moan for me. Feel the clamp
of my teeth about your exposed and vulnerable nipple, the whip and slathering
of my tongue over its tip, the drool of vampiric saliva mixed with the barest
trickle of your blood running down your violated breast. How much better it
will be when you too can drink of the ambrosia that is your Master's blood,
when you can feel the pleasure sting of his hunger against your own neck.
Beg
for it, dear girl. My member rises to slide down your slit, sawing against a
sex that needs to feel the pulse of unholy life rushing into its deepest
corners. A chill that thrills your mortal coils down to their foundations grips
your heart that beats so fast beneath my ravenous jaws. My claws drag down your
smooth sides, marking you with such faint red lines from ribs to hips as mine.
But there is one mark above all the others that will change you from maiden to
matriarch. One pair of tiny holes like those I've left on your breast that will
mark you as the victim of the unholy. One sign that will seal your fate and
make you into a daughter of the night.
Yes,
you know that mark, that sign, that mar upon your living flesh whose making is
now so familiar to you. Look into my eyes as I look down at your face, dear
girl. You can say you want it. Whisper it without breath. I will hear it in the
roll of your hips and the press of your breasts. Say the words that will bind
you to me. The hardness against your tender sex knows your great weakness. It
wants to drive home, right down to the hilt, right up to your fertile womb. Say
those words in the corners of your darkest mind. Invite me into your body, your
mind. Say you want my kiss to take your very soul.
Mmmm,
I hear it, dear girl. Now still your hips, your chest. Still your very breath.
Let my weight fall upon you, cozier than any sheet could be, cooler than any
mid-autumn ever is. My unliving flesh against yours, and my unholy vigor lined
up against your wanting slit. Taste the traces of your life upon my lips, upon
my fangs. Kiss the creature that you will soon call your Master, and close your
eyes as I drag those wanting fangs down to the edge of your throat. Breathe in,
one last breath of your former life. And let your Master...
Feed.
My
fangs drive into you at the same time as my hips. Hard teeth pierce deep into
your neck, into your most vibrant and pulsing of veins. Into your very life. At
the same moment too my hardened member sinks into your sex, penetrating you in
one long, slow push that brings my twitching cock right to the mouth of your
womb, the promise of new life. The quake of your mortal frame inspires my jaws
to tighten and my hips to thrust, and the gush of your life flowing over my
tongue makes me growl with a pleasure I ram into your tender twat.
You
will cum for me. Bathe my cock in your juices as you bathe my fangs in your
blood. Spill for me, dear maiden. Spill out your vitality into me. Sate my
hunger as I ram into your tight cunt and let pour the heat of your life into my
maw. How your heart strains and thumps hard beneath your breast, pressed so
eagerly against my chest. The rut of my lust into yours, enough to slap out in
hollow strokes against your vulnerable and wounded pussy, fills your innocent
room. No longer innocent as your own moan escapes your lips, and the grip of
your hands try to draw me in further. Weakening as I shunt ecstasy through your
thighs, through your belly, up your spine and into your dominated brain.
This
is more than mating. I feast upon your blood and your flesh, draining you of
all resistance and all of the fight save for one: To breed. How strongly your
hips jerk up to meet mine, and how easily I pound them back into the bed. You
try to kiss me, but a jerk of my jaws and you'd wailing again as my ravenous
hunger sends spikes of pain to marry with your need for more. You're my meal,
my toy, and I will have my way with you till either I've had my fill or you are
no more.
Yes,
fuck back against your predator. Squeeze tight against my body as I penetrate
you from neck to pussy. My claws rake along your back and sink into the firm of
your ass. Squeezing, gripping tight so my every stroke drives home against your
deepest being. I could drain it all from you, leave you an empty husk upon your
very bed having sated my carnal thirst for just one night. Or you can sate another
thirst of mine, one that only a fertile maiden can provide to a beast like me.
Feel the heat of my eyes upon you, the eyes of your Master. You want to feel my
essence pour into you, don't you? The powerful eruption of unholy seed into
your unprotected belly. To fill what I have taken from you. To complete your
purpose in life, the meaning of your existence, the fate sealed for you the
moment I mounted you. You want me to breed you.
Ragh!
The drive of my body against yours threatens the very bed, yet I do not cease.
The weakening of your limbs, however tight they try to round about me, is not
enough to fight off the slipping of your life. Either I am to fuck you into
oblivion and leave you lifeless upon these sheets, or I shall make something
else of you. Something that will round, and swell, and bear for this world new
monsters to prey upon the unwary and the sinful.
Yes,
how you desire that, my dear slut. That urge that fills your belly with
butterflies, the ultimate thrill - to surrender your life to the whims and
essence of my own. I upraise your hips and drive your shoulders back into the
pillows. Every drop you have spilled into my mouth I shall return to you
between your legs. Not as blood, but as cum. My balls churn and slap against
your warm flesh, cool and roiling with unholy seed bent on conquering your
vulnerable womb. To sap the life from you inch by inch, month by month, until
you are maiden no more but a vampire's breeding ground. Your Master's fucktoy,
forever.
Give
into it. Feel the rush of pleasure into you, the threat of my impending
insemination. It comes, throbbing and jutting harder and harder into your
upraised and bucking hips. Give into it, dear girl. Give into your fate! I
release your neck before the last of your life slips away, my face grimacing on
the edge of ultimate release above yours. Kiss me. Taste of your Master as he
impregnates you here, on your human bed, with my inhuman spawn. And cum, cum
for me dear girl. Cum harder than you've ever cum in life or nigh death. The
haze in your brain is from your need to be bred, to become your Master's plaything
and matriarch. Give into it all. Give into pleasure undying. Give into the
vampire's kiss!
It
comes! A cold eruption that blasts against your innards, spraying out blasts of
gooey vampiric jizz deep into your spasming, orgasmic hole. I'm cumming inside
you, filling your belly more than any many could hope to, more than any mortal
could dream. It spurts out, gushing from our tight seal to run down the crack
of your shivering ass and stain your bedsheets. How it lashes and pools against
your greedy cervix as it pulses, gulps it into your traiterous womb. Undead
sperm, rejuvenated with the taste of life enough to writhe and wriggle out in
the billions into your wanting womb. The hard gushing won't stop, not even as
your belly swells just below your naval with all the spunk, all the cum
driving, shooting, gushing into you. And all the while we kiss, desperate and
howling into one another, as we commit so great a sin.
At
last, at long last, the grip upon your ass slackens. You fall upon the pillows
once more, hips still upraised but not enough to stem the burbling flow that
pours out the moment I withdraw from you. A slick of cool, vampiric spunk
rushes out and over your soaked pussy lips and down your still-quaking ass. How
listless you've become, weakened and anemic from our mating. The mating with a
vampire.
Yet
you still breathe. Barely. The blood you've given me will empower me for weeks
to come, weeks that I will be spending revisting my latest, loveliest prey. In
the morning you will awaken, sore and marked thrice with my bites, but it will
all seem as if it were a dream. A hazy, indescribably pleasurable dream.
Despite the slick left beneath your covers, upon the pillows under your hips
and the sheets all around, you will imagine it was just from a night-long of
nocturnal ecstasy. You've never cum so hard in your life after all, so much so
that you'll be leaking for days after...
And
that strange feeling in your belly? That weird sort of sloshing, like you'd
been filled with something strange. Something unnatural. Something oh so right.
It's just your imagination, dear girl. As will be the coming weeks where you
notice the tenderness in your breasts and the slightest swell of your belly
afterwards. It couldn't be the results of that vivid dream, or of the promise
of that strange man who said you would bear out his seed. It will be just your
imagination, a dark and naughty fantasy borne from a girl needing to get fucked
more and more lately. The fantasy of being knocked up by a vampire and becoming
his bride, his servant, his fuckslave.
All
just a fantasy to enjoy in those recurring dreams, late at night, where the
shadows creep in from your barely-opened window and begin to caress your face
anew, where the man reappears at the foot of your bed, his glowing yellow eyes
upon yours, and his words inscribed in your mind:
"It's
all a dream, dear girl. Enjoy every moment of it..."
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