DISCLAIMERS
I'm just trying to help with these disclaimers! I don't want to spring things on anyone. Back out now if any of this doesn't sound like your kind of thing!
My writing deals with very dark themes and is considered horror. I try to creep myself out as I write, and I'm trying to portray a deeply disturbing, perverted vampire. This whole story is told through the eyes of a VILLAIN, and everything he does is obviously WRONG, which is what makes this thrilling to write.
This is a work of fiction. I do not condone any of the things I write about. All characters are 18+. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Please read Chapter 1 if you haven't. This chapter is mostly an interlude, just so I can get my thoughts and ideas down. Think of this as coming home to enjoy the spoils after a quest/mission/raid.
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Chapter 2 - My Queen
I still can't believe my eyes. I had drained her life's essence. And yet here she is, just sitting there staring at me with a warm smile. She called me "master". It's exactly as I had hoped. She's not gone, she changed, she turned. I can see it in her pretty brown eyes. The old Victoria is gone, the face I stare at now is different, a monster like me.
Tonight has been a turning point, a step toward building my kingdom, my legacy. I died over a year ago. It was foolishly labeled the Omicron variant of the pandemic. And it made sense, that the weak pathetic man I was would've died from the weak strain of the virus. But it was something else, something much worse. After building up my strength and learning of my new powers, tonight I finally made a bold move. I killed the husband of my old boss from when I worked at my office job. My boss, Victoria, a sexy young mom who I always dreamed of being with. I broke into her beautiful house. And I made her mine.
I had a gut feeling she would be different, not just food like my other victims before her. And I was right, she's back. Staring at me.
The bathroom is silent, only the drip of a shower head making any sound. I sit naked on the stone bench built into the back wall of the huge standing shower. Glass walls on the other three sides. Everything still wet. A bit of bloody water still slowly draining in the center on the stone floor. Under Victoria.
She sits with her smooth legs straight in front of her, finger and toenails painted a dark red to match the blood beneath her. Her thick hips so wet and shiny. Her face tilted up at me, patiently waiting.
She rubs at her wrists subconsciously, flexing them. They had been duct taped tightly, bruised and raw. I watch as the bruises are disappearing before my eyes. My tongue does the same. I had bit it when I was feverishly feeding on her, our blood mixing. It's healed now.
I glance higher up her body. She still wears a ripped open beige camisole, soaked dark and stuck to her skin, her plump breasts hanging out freely. I see her dark nipples. Her left one has two little bloody holes on either side of it, where I bit her. That wound doesn't heal like her others. Her thick long raven-black hair spills down in wet waves over her neck and shoulders. And her pretty face. God I just want to ravage her all over again. Her stern sharp features, intelligent and graceful. Strong eyebrows stare with such intensity. And yet she looks kind, likable, motherly.
"Master?" she says again. So warm and concerned.
I smile back at her, "I like the sound of that. Do you remember what just happened? Who I am?"
She looks confused for a moment, thinking. "Yes. But that doesn't matter anymore. I feel so... different." She looks down at her hands, then her exposed body. Then back to me. She gets up on her knees, sitting comfortably back on her heels, hands in her lap. Smiling and waiting.
I can see the look in her eyes. I can tell she is being driven by urges just like me. But they're different urges. A need to please, obey, love. All directed at her master. The one who turned her. Me.
"Come here," I motion and she happily crawls to me. Sits back on her heels again, with her face looking up at me from between my knees as I sit on the stone bench.
I reach out and caress her face. She nuzzles my hand. I stick my thumb to her lips and part them, pulling down her jaw with authority. She lets me, opens her mouth wide. I look inside, seeing the sharp fangs that now protrude down. She licks at my thumb. I pat her chin to tell her to close her mouth.
"You called me master. Why?" I lean back comfortably, just looking her up and down.
Again she looks confused for a moment, and then, "I don't know. I'm... yours I guess. I just feel like I need to please you."
I need to test this out. Need to see the extent of this. "Get up. Stand over there and face me." She complies happily. Her wet body is so sexy, springing to her feet, a slight jiggle in her butt and tits.
"Take that off," I motion to the ruined camisole she still wears. She pulls it up over her head and lets it splat down to the floor. "No. Fucking pick it up, wring it out, and hang it over there to dry. You're a housewife aren't you? Don't just leave shit on the floor."
She looks a bit nervous, embarrassed she got something wrong already. She does what I say, hanging it up. Incredible. This is like a dream.
I push further, "You didn't like anal before, do you remember that? You hated it." She nods. "Turn around. Stick a finger in your ass."