The great hall was dimly lit with a thousand tiny flames erupting from their prospective wicks. The walls were of stone and clay, worn smooth in places due to the unspeakable acts that happened up against them. The stage at the front of the room was large and bloodstained from the spilling of hundreds of human souls. A huge cage stood in the middle, frightening in its implications. Perhaps tonight the entertainment would prove interesting. I smiled slowly, wondering which of the screaming victims in the dungeons would show as our plaything.
Deep below the surface of the earth, we mingled among each other, stopping briefly here and there to sniff each other like dogs, smelling the bountiful blood that pulsed just beneath the surface of our skin. Everywhere I looked, we stood, sat, and made love, our luscious white skin gleaming iridescent in the flickering candlelight. To my left, two young men engaged in sex play, their bodies writhing against each other, unaware of the group surrounding them, watching silently. I caught bits and pieces of conversation, who had killed whom, and what the rest of the week should bring. One of our aspiring musicians played softly in a corner on a scarred and battered mandolin he had taken from his latest victim.
I paused a moment to take stock of my own beauty. My long, dark, almost black tresses cascaded in lovely waves around my face, streaming loosely to my tiny waist. Huge green eyes peaked out from a light fringe of bangs, teasing, pulling with their enormity and color. How many mortals have I stopped dead in their tracks just from one look? Pouty, red lips, kissable, bitable even, curved gently in a slow smile, as I ran my hands down my bountiful curves. My breasts, high and large, jutted out from my chest, inviting even the noblest of men to touch, to tease.
Nipples, clearly visible through the hunter satin dress I wore seemed to almost be able to cut glass, the anticipation of the evening was so great. My waist, tiny as I mentioned, flared out into well rounded hips, then tapering to long, beautiful legs, perfectly formed without a scar, wrinkle, or an ounce of cellulite. I felt the core of my being throb as I ran my hand absentmindedly over it, flooding my thighs with a creamy warmth. I bit my lip with sharp teeth, that had just that morning taken the life of a lovely farm maid. I am, you see, a vampire. My name, is Ari.
Suddenly, the room grows quiet as a man enters from a side door. Payne, the leader of our large coven, and my master, the one who made me, taught me the Dark Arts. He strides in purposefully, calmly, his black eyes flashing as he moves through the room toward me. I can see muscles rippling in his calves and thighs, his manhood straining at the tight bonds of his leggings. I laugh quietly at his arousal. He must have only now returned from the whore house on the surface. I see a small trickle of dried blood at the corner of his mouth. Tossing his dark hair over his shoulder, his olive complexion mottled in anger he stands before me, shaking in his rage.
"I see that you enjoyed yourself tonight, my lord." I whisper conspiratorially. "May I ask, was your maiden pleased with your services as well?" I struggle to keep my voice under control. For that morning, I had added a simple potion to Payne's morning draught of wine that would make his erection uncontrollable and would, unfortunately, not allow him any release, therefore leaving him no doubt frustrated, and yearning for ejaculation. I gasped at he suddenly seized my shoulders roughly, bringing me up against him for a bruising kiss.
"No," he hissed. "She did not. I battered her so much that when I was finished she was begging me to kill her. Unfortunately, she is my favorite whore, therefore I took no pleasure in ending her short life. AND I achieved no release. But you will be dealt with before the night is through." He smiled then, wickedly, and I felt a pang of unease deep in my breast. The look on his face was unsettling, and I turned from him as I heard a booming voice from the front of the great hall.
"Ladies, and Gentlemen. Tonight will be extraordinary. The making of a new vampire is upon us. For months, we have painstakingly collected the prisoners in our dungeons, using most of them for slave labor, some for food, and others for entertainment. But tonight, there is one who has survived even the brutalist of treatment. His name, is Morgain. And tonight, he will be our entertainment." Applause broke out among us, wolf whistles and shrieks added to the mayhem as a man was led out onto the stage in chains, his head held high despite the treatment he had endured in the past months. I saw that he was indeed, a handsome specimen. Tall, with bright, shocking blue eyes and thick blond hair that hung nearly to his shoulders. Muscles rippled in his back and his stomach was flat and muscled as well. His most impressive feature, however, was his phallus. Naked as he was, even in his terror, he was fully erect. Perhaps serviced my a maid right before coming on stage. Precome dripped from the end of his dick. 9 inches long, perhaps more, and as thick as my wrist.
