The Eternal Bloom

Priscilla opened her eyes and looked around the room; it was windowless and lit only by standing candelabra. She was lying in a bed at the edge of the darkness and saw only the doorway and a few furnishings. She had little memory of her wedding night, only that her husband had wanted to consummate their marriage on the dining table, and no idea of how long she had been sleeping. Priscilla stood up and wobbled about the room, still weak from her night of ravenous passion. Looking at the furnishings, she found a small closet from which she removed a simple yellow dress. She went to the door of the room and pulled it open slowly, then stepped outside and headed toward the stairs. She felt a need for something but had not yet discerned what it was. The house seemed deserted except for noises from the dining room. Priscilla entered the room and smiled at her husband's guests. She sat down across from her husband at the end of the table. A young man, who introduced himself as Charles, helped her with her chair, steadying her as she sat down. She smiled politely back at him and thanked him for his assistance. Charles cut off a slice of beef from the blood rare roast and placed it upon her plate. The scent of the blood made Priscilla's mouth water and she quickly devoured the slice of beef. She carefully sopped up the blood that had run out onto her plate with a chunk of bread and savored each bite of the blood-soaked loaf.

Priscilla glanced down the table at Anton, where he was busy wooing another young woman. She was a buxom young red-haired girl, not much older than Priscilla. Charles looked at Anton, who had his right hand upon the pretty redhead's face and his left hand upon her breast, and said, "He seems to have his hands full of the Lady Mirabella." Priscilla frowned at him and placed her hand upon her cleavage, "He should have his hands full of me." She bit her lip and quickly averted her eyes. Charles smiled at her, "I would prefer to have my hands of you." Priscilla shot a surprised look at the young man; she even considered scolding him for his forwardness, but held her tongue out of respect for her husband. She looked down the table again, only to see her husband kissing the flame-haired hussy in front of their company. Anton glanced her way and she shot a hurt look down the table at him and scowled at Mirabella when she looked at her. Anton rose from his seat and came over to her with Mirabella in tow. He said, "You are looking well, my love. But I must demand that you apologize for your jealousy. It is not welcome in this house." Priscilla blushed and then reluctantly apologized to her husband's companion. Anton kissed her on her forehead before wandering off with his evening meal.

Priscilla turned to Charles and smiled. "Tell me, Charles, where are you from?" she asked. Startled by her question, he stared at her for a moment before answering, "Manchester". Clara took a bite of her meal and then asked, "Have you family waiting for you back in Manchester?" Charles studied the young woman sitting across from him for a moment before answering her question. "No, I have no one waiting for me." Clara finished her second course of meat and bread and turned her full attention to Charles. She stared into his deep blue eyes and fought back her tears. Charles noticed her hurt and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently in an effort to comfort her. "How could he do this to me?" Charles shook his head, "I don't know. You are so beautiful." He took her chin in his hand and smiled as he looked into her eyes. Priscilla blushed and then diverted her eyes downward. Charles slid his hand to the back of her neck, pulled her towards him and kissed her longingly on her dark red lips. She resisted at first and then allowed him to kiss her as she thought of her husband in the arms of another woman. She sighed, then smiled at Charles and kissed him back, placing his hand upon her bosom. Charles slid his hand into her bodice and played with a nipple. Priscilla sighed and reached under the table, slowly gathering up her skirt. She played with her sex, allowing her moans to be heard at the table.

Charles could feel his passion rising and his discomfort became noticeable as Priscilla rubbed his leg with her toes. She continued to smile at him while she played under the table. Unable to restrain his desires any longer, Charles stood up and dragged her out of the dining room and into the hallway. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately on the lips before whispering into his ear, "Take me to bed and have your way with me." Charles hurried her upstairs to his bedroom where he pushed her inside and onto his bed. Priscilla allowed Charles to tie her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Smiling, Charles pulled a knife from his boot and lay the blade gently against her cheek. Priscilla shot a frightened glance his way, "What are you doing to do with that?" she asked. Charles lay the blade of the knife against the bottom of her chin and answered, "I could cut your pretty throat with it, but that would offend my host." Priscilla gasped as he traced the tip of the knife down her chest, slid it carefully between her breasts and then cut away her dress, exposing her nubile young body. "I could have just slipped it off," she protested. He brought the knife blade back up to her cheek and asked, "Now, where's the fun in that?" He tossed the knife up into the air, catching it by its blade and lowered the handle to her lips. He began to drag it slowly down her body, leaving a cold trail where the steel made contact. Charles stopped halfway down her torso to bounce it off her stomach a few times before resuming his torment. He placed the tip of the handle between her legs and began to rub the leather grip against her bud. Priscilla began to moan ever so softly as she began to feel damp between her legs. Charles inserted the handle into her womanhood and began to play with her nipples while he massaged her wetted sex.

Charles withdrew the knife handle from her sopping cunt and exposed his own hardened manhood. He climbed onto her and after entering her, began to slowly move within her. She moaned with each thrust and dug her fingers into his back. As the blood slowly trickled out from his scratched back, she began to experience a strange hunger. The scent of the blood made her lust grow and she dug her heels into his back. He began to drive his cock harder and deeper into her as he gave way to his own lust and just before his release buried his face into the pillow beside her. Priscilla felt her own climax arriving and dug her fingernails into his neck. She licked at the few spots of oozing blood to clean the skin and then losing control suddenly bit into him. At first she felt revulsion for her actions and she turned her head away from his bloody wound, but she soon gave way to her craving and hungrily swallowed his blood as it poured from his open artery. When she felt her hunger abate, she slowly pushed her first victim's body off her own and went in search of her husband.