Dear Diary,
Wow. It's been a while. I hope you slept well too. Good thing I bought a Hibernating Diary 2.0!
Well, let's get the no fun stuff out of the way first: I had a cold. It lasted an entire week! Vampires, especially fit vamps in their twenties, aren't supposed to get colds. I slept day and night every day until I began to feel better.
Alright. That's enough of that. I'm back. And, dare I say, better than ever!
When I awoke from my slumber, I was famished. I needed food. Slick, red, human blood. Gallons of it. I needed to suck on the thickest neck until it was bone dry. I needed that sweet human juice to flow down my chin and onto my breasts. I needed it to splash my face and cover me with sticky goo.
Which brings me to last Saturday night. Now
that
was a party! Let me start from the beginning.
I awoke at 7 p.m. from my week-long slumber. Jonathan, my limp-dicked husband, left me a note on the spider table next to my coffin. I snatched it up before Spidey could run away with it, as she loves to do. (So annoying.)
The note read:
My sweet Mavis, (ugh. I hate that pet name. He's such a weenie.)
I've gone off to Ireland for a couple of weeks! My friend Richard—you remember him? He came to our anniversary party last year. Long hair, bushy eyebrows, smells like menthol? — contacted me and wanted to know if I wanted to go backpacking with him across Ireland, Wales and Scotland!
Of course, I said yes! See you in two weeks!
Love,
Jonathan
Perfect! I squealed. No overbearing, rotten, no-good husband to spoil my fun. As far as I was concerned, he could just stay over there.
I ran to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, took a nice, hot shower. The water felt so good on my awaked skin. What humans don't know is that a week-long rest, like the one I took, makes a girl vamps skin absolutely glow! I felt so revitalized as I lathered myself up with a lavender soap and a honeydew shampoo.
I set my mind to shaving after my shower was over. I carefully shaved my legs, admiring my long, slender thighs. I massaged my feet and scrubbed off any rough skin. I then moved to my pubic area, shaving a cute, little heart into my black hair. I was so excited by the evening that was unfolding inside my head, and the naughtiness I was certain to get into, that I played with my clit while shaving. It was throbbing as I did so, and I allowed myself a small orgasm. But what I really wanted to do was fuck. And fuck hard!
After I finished grooming, I flung open the doors to my pride and glory: my wardrobe.
I thumbed through short dresses, long dresses, tight shirts, long-sleeved shirts, halter tops, skirts, socks, boots. You name it, I've got it.
I couldn't decide between my purple skater dress, or my black balloon sleave mini dress. On the one hand, the halter top style of my skater dress shows off my shoulders and my small but perky breasts. And I have well defined, feminine shoulders. On the other hand, though, my balloon sleave mini dress hides my lithe frame, hinting at what's underneath.
I was on the verge of calling my good friend Wendy and getting her advice, but I thought better of it. She'd ask where I was going, and the last think I wanted was to give Wendy the impression that I'm a slut. Which I am, but that's beside the point.
I ultimately chose the balloon dress. I picked a white string bikini. It shows off my ass, and it also sits low enough on my pubic area, and is just sheer enough, to hint at my heart shaped box.
For my bra, I went with a blood red demi bra because it shows off my petite breasts and cleavage.
And, to top off my sexiest look, I chose my ultra-feminine, black platform boots. The high heel on these boots makes me feel powerful. I imagine myself stepping over some hunky man's body, crushing his balls beneath my heel. (Take deep breaths, Mavis. Deep breaths.)
Last was my hair and makeup. I have beautiful porcelain vampire skin. I do not wear much makeup, but decided on a gentle, light pink, sparkling lipstick. I also gave myself a subtle cat eye, and with my naturally long lashes, I looked like a snack! An entire meal, even.
For my hair, I blow dried it, thus bringing out the tousled texture. My hair is should length now, black as a raven, with loose waves, giving me a sexy seductress look. I think the boys, and girls, and werewolves, mummies, blobs, ghouls, and vampires will love me!
Now I come to the moment we've all been waiting for. Or, rather, just me. Since this is just a diary entry and absolutely nobody will ever read it. I'm certain of that.
There was a new nightclub over in Cluj-Napoca, Transylvania's largest and most posh city. The club, called, Dacia, catered to monsters of all kinds. It was said it tolerated humans, but it wasn't a club for them. There are always the fetishists, who are allowed inside, but the monster clubs keep tight control over how many humans they let into their cherished spaces.
It's a long four-hour drive from my castle to Club Dacia. Good thing I'm a bad ass shape-shifting vampire. My commute was going to take me, at most, one hour, as the bat flies.
I locked my castle front door and shape-shifted into a beautiful, sleek bat and flapped away. I occupied my mind by enjoying the shadows of the trees below me, created by a silvery, full moon. The air was crisp, the night sounds were plentiful, and below me the elm, oak, and ash trees stood as sentinels to the black forests that lay thick between my home and the lights of the big city.
I arrived in Cluj-Napoca exactly one hour from my departure. Pretty good timing! It took me a few minutes to orient myself, the lights and sounds disorienting me.
I found the Central Avenue, winding through the middle of Cluj-Napoca, and shape-shifted back into Mavis Dracula. Coffee shops, restaurants, bars, bakeries, and internet cafes lined the street. I was in heaven. My head was spinning from all the bright lights spun across the street, adding to the warm, friendly ambience. The buildings were a mix of old European styles: Renaissance, Baroque and Gothic churches, houses and meeting centers. Contemporary shops and tourists stop mingled with these historical buildings, creating a perfectly romantic atmosphere.
Club Dacia was just off Central Avenue, on an aptly named street called Seks Street (Seks is the Romanian word for sex, in case you were wondering, diary). The buildings became less modern and more in the historical European design that monsters so dearly love.
I walked up to Club Dacia, the low, blue-purple lighting outside the looming arches of the doorway a beacon to my vampire heart. There was a line of monsters outside and a few nicely dressed humans, including one twenty-something woman in nothing but a lacey, red bra and matching boy shorts, with a pair of batwings sticking out the back. I would have laughed, but her breasts were popping right out of her bra, and her long, toned legs sent a shiver from my lips right down to my loins. I felt the first hint of wetness and I licked my lips. I was going to keep my eye on that spicey minx.
I noticed more than one monster staring at me—there was a group of three young, sharp dressed werewolves near the front of the line that were grinning at me and puffing out their chests, growling in jest, typical werewolf behavior—and it made me feel all kinds of good. I flashed them my killer smile, my fangs sharp and shiny.
I walked up to the franken-bouncer, his mismatched muscles rippling under a tight, black V-neck shirt. He looked me up and down, smiling at me like he wanted to break me in half (in a good way). I stared into his eyes, piercing right to his soul. He was mesmerized, hypnotized by my vampire beauty. He unhooked the velvet rope and showed me right into the club, ahead of everyone.
"Thanks, daddy," I said as I walked by, my hips swaying, pushing my ass out. Right as I was passing the door into the club, I felt a slight tap on my behind. I glanced back and the bouncer was giving me a toothy smile. I grinned back, batting my eyes.
The club was hoppin'. It was just past ten o'clock and the dance floor was full. Vamps, werewolves, and even a group of fairies were dancing the night away. DJ Magic Man, a killer vamp dressed in a black suit and sporting a sky high white mohawk, thumped EDM music through the giant speakers.
The bar was packed with patrons, a beautiful nymph mixing drinks and dazzling guests with her smile and wit. I felt like I'd met my match when I looked into her eyes; as she made me a pineapple martini, she never stopped making eye contact. Her eyes were the darkest blue ocean, her lips a crimson promise, her teeth sharp, white and hungry. I was in love, spell bound, in danger of losing myself. Between this nymph and the human woman outside, I knew the night was going to be magical.
After I finished my drink, it was time to hit the dance floor. The music was fast and rhythmic and the bodies on the dancefloor were like waves of grass, flowing as one as a breeze of music pushed them to ecstasy. There was a good mix of men and women, including the human woman from outside, and the three werewolves who had already spotted me and were grinning their werewolf grins (if you've never seen a werewolf grin, they're both enticing and unnerving).
I ignored the werewolves and went over to the human, watching her petite, toned body dance in perfect rhythm to the music, her eyes half closed as in a trance. The bat wings she wore fluttered behind her, and I found myself drawn to them, hoping she would turn around so that I could see her back.
I'm a pretty good dancer, so I had no problem getting into my groove immediately, hoping to catch her attention. It worked. She opened her eyes wide as I moved my body into hers, paralyzing her with my subtle breasts and my flowing dress, my tight body pressing against her.
The DJ changed the song to a lo-fi hip hop song, and I turned my back to the human sex kitten, moving my hips to the beat and pushing my ass into her. The dance floor was now packed, bodies sweating, gyrating. I felt the human's hands gently grab hold of my hips, pulling me tighter.
And that's when I felt it. A bulge pushing into the small of my back. I gasped. And then I blushed. And then I felt the subtle change in temperature between my legs that let me know I was in heat. Oh, diary, I was ready.
I turned my head and asked the human, "What's your name?" I had to shout to be heard above the human.