Carefully, so not to disturb his sleeping form, I creep out of bed. I love to watch the sunset, the way the darkening skies forces the sun to submit to its dark glory. The sound of his deep breathing only serves to heighten the pleasures of watching the sunset. But, today is much different. Today is his birthday and over the many years, I have outdone myself each and every time. Slipping into my sheer black nightgown, quietly make my way to the rooftop. Perched like a dark angel or demon, the gauzy material shadowing my naked body flowing in the breeze, I plot on what new twist for him this year.
"I knew you would be here, pet." his deep voice breaking the silence.
"Aye, milord." I whisper. He leans forward kissing my forehead, lightly stroking my hair. I love the feeling of his fingers running through my long braided hair.
"So what do you have planned for me this day, pet?" he asked, playfully tugging my hair.
"It's a surprise milord." I giggle, rising from my perch. My black painted toenails wiggle perilously on the edge. My heart would probably be racing in my chest as I stand on my tiptoes, taunting death, that is, if my heart still had a beat.
"Come girl, there is much to be done this night." he says, his voice thick with desire. His grip tightens on my hair, forcing me to bend at the waist as he leads me back inside. He sits in his dark mahogany throne, placing a soft velvet pillow on the floor between his parted thighs. Falling to the floor, my knees sinking in the softness of the pillow, I look up at him through thick lashes, a small smile forming on my full lips.
"Is my slut hungry?" I love it when he speaks to me in such a manner.
"Oh yes Master, your slut is always hungry for you."
"Then," he paused to unzip his pants, freeing his swollen cock, "Feed slut."
"Thank you Master." I whisper, my lips pressing a kiss in utter devotion at the base of his cock, placing two more, one on each of his balls, before slowly dragging my tongue up his shaft. I have lived countless lifetimes, but nothing tastes as sweet as his cock. The feeling of each veined ridge against my tongue, the musky smell of his trimmed pubic hair, the way his balls roll around in my mouth. How can you not become addicted? I slowly slide his cock in my hot, wet hungry mouth, feeling it nudge the back of my throat, demanding entry. I love teasing him and he knows this. I can hear him laughing softly, followed by a deep growl as he pushes my head down, making me gag as his cock finds its home in the warmth of my throat. Pressing on the base of his cock to keep him from ejaculating, I work my magic on his cock, spitting on the mushroom head, watching my saliva dribble down and coat his balls. Mouthing his balls, rolling them around in my mouth, loving the feel of them scraping the roof of my mouth.
"Ready pet, ready to drink?" he pants, forcing my head up and down, fucking my face hard and fast. I suck deeply on his cock, feeling swell in my throat before the sweet eruption begins. Blast after blast of creamy ropes cover my throat and tonsils, sliding down my throat and into my hungry belly. I keep his cock in my mouth until the last spasm, sucking it clean. Letting it slip from my mouth, kissing the head devotedly.
"Oh good my pet. Your mouth is wonderfully talented." he says, stroking my hair. I catch his fingertips as they pass my lips, kissing them softly.
"Who owns you?"
"You do. I belong to you."
"Good girl."
I sit back on my heels, licking my lips, gazing at him. In the darker recesses of my mind, thoughts flash. Thoughts that I have grown to suppress, the darker urges that reside there. The knowledge that I could snap his neck without blinking. A little voice screams in my head, 'Why do you let him own you? He's only a mortal?' Yes I know he's only a mortal and I am the immortal vampire, yet he is the one wielding all of the power. I yield myself to his whims, simply because he saved me.
Thoughts of being left for dead by a vampire hunter, a stake pierce the lower half of my heart, not quite hitting the desired mark, but effective nonetheless. I was helpless and the dawn was fast approaching. He found me, thinking that I was the victim of some heinous crime, never knowing what I truly was. He wanted to call the hospital, but somehow I managed to convince him not to. With the little strength that I had, I removed the stake and passed out. He had leaned over me, checking for vitals, when out of sheer instinct, I grabbed his wrist and bit him. As soon as I realized what I had done, I let him go and healed his wounds. Oddly enough, he wasn't too shocked. He simply looked at me and without batting an eye, whacked me hard against the cheek. In my weakened state the blow caused great pain. Then he spoke to me: "I saved you. You will do as I say, no questions asked. I own you. And you will never take what is not offered to you. In return, I will take care of all your needs. I know what and who you are. Now tell me, who do you belong to?" I don't know why his words had such an effect on me. Mayhaps because that small remainder of humanity left in me remembers the days lost so many centuries ago, when I was a handmaiden to a powerful Lord, who spoke to me in such a manner. But I answered as if it was natural and simply said, "You." From that moment on, this is how its been.
"Now tell me girl, what plans do you have for my birthday?"
"Get dressed and you'll see." I said, flashing him a wicked smile as I stood up. His eyes never left my body as I willed my clothes to me. He loves the tricks and spells that I can conjure up. Being an accomplished vampire and sorceress, allows me the freedom to do such things. Standing before him, clad in a ebony skintight catsuit, my full breasts pushed up nice and high showing off his cleavage, my long legs accentuated by knee-high platform boots.
"Hurry milord, the night is only young for a short time, and what I have planned for you will take all night. So we haven't a moment to waste."
"Get my clothes then, girl." he laughed, swatting me on my ass. I do love dressing him, especially in the finest of garb. He deserves nothing less than the best. So I pulled out a pair of sharply creased black Armani pants, a black Italian silk shirt, and a pair of soft suede ankle boots. Not only do I select his clothes, but I also have the supreme satisfaction of dressing him as well. After I dress him, I lead him back to his throne so that I can brush his short blonde hair, using some hair gel to make it all spiky. He is so adorable with his spiky hair.
"Girl aren't you missing something?" I checked my attire trying to figure out what was missing, when his hand shot up and grabbed my bare neck.
"Milord, you didn't bless me with it." I gasped, not really from lack of air, but because he loves the sound of it. His warm fingers gently caress my throat, making me purr softly. He rises, pulling out the object of my slavery-a medium width, leather collar with a silver hoop in front, with his named etched on it. Gratefully, I pull my hair out of the way, waiting for the inevitable "SNAP" sound when it locks. The sound sending shivers down my body, eliciting the most delicious moan from the pit of my soul. Tugging on the hoop, he pulls me close, kissing me deeply.
"Get my coat girl, I'm ready to see what surprise you have planned for me."
Holding his long leather trenchcoat, he slips it on, reaching in the coat pocket, he pulls out the thin silver leash, that links me to him.
"Milord, hold on tight, I don't really feel like driving anywhere tonight." He wraps his arms tight around my waist, nuzzling my throat as I call upon my many talents and whisk us away to his surprise.
Materializing inside a dark corner of a exclusive strip club, his eyes widen in surprise.
"You do know my weakness girl. Are you dancing for me, pet?"
"Nay milord. Tonight I have something far more interesting for you to enjoy. I simply ask that you select the woman that you want so that the games can begin."
"Tear you spoil me so." he laughed, kissing my cheek. I know he is really pleased thus far hearing the name he gave me. I cried countless nights of crimson tears when I was being trained. I had forgotten so much of my past life, that I no longer remembered my given name. When you spend endless lifetimes assuming new identities, such details have a tendency to become blurred.
