Vamphyr

How can I start what is basically a true story, and make it into fantasy? There is no better place than the beginning. I look back at the events that made us meet that day, and a smile comes to an otherwise none descript face. I found you online, a mere fledgling having been abandoned by your sire. I had no choice but to take you in as my own and teach you the ways of our people. True, we are vampires, but not the mythical beings described by many, but a harsher reality. We are no more than genetic mutations of the human race that makes us weak in some areas, and strong in others. Some of us do have powers of the psychic type, us the older ones. The fledglings, well they have to start as babies all over.

Something about you made me take you in, though I had not created you, all those years ago. Now beloved, you are no longer a fledgling but my equal, and the other half of my soul. You have grown powerful on the love I have bestowed upon you. My time to ground comes near, I can feel it, as I grow weaker. No matter how much I feed this savage hunger it is never enough, and before I hurt another innocent, I will disappear for a time. Maybe fifty or a hundred years from now, I shall awaken renewed after my rest deep in the healing soil of our dark mother, Gaia. You have no idea that our good bye is close, you think I am too clingy lately, too emotional. If you knew the reasons for it, then you would understand. Tonight my love, I shall spend with you, making love to you, feeding you the last of my strength, and taking in the last memories of you beloved, and still you will have no clue that when the sunrises, I shall be gone. Yet I am getting ahead of myself here. I am getting ready to meet you in half an hour, I have fed well, my body is warm and youthful looking, dressed in black lace.

The doorbell rings, and it is you, dressed in a tux, and the old fashioned cape, rose in hand. I look at you, taking it all in. The tux, the cape, the white rose in your hand and your beloved face. I manage a smile for you, and bring you inside my chamber. We kiss deeply greeting each other, I can sense your anticipation. You know what I am about to do, and your body craves it, like humans crave their drugs. I take the white rose, the symbol of our love and place it in a tiny vase. I light the candles that will illuminate us this evening, with a slow, not hurried hand. I can hear your breathing start to come in gasps as your instinct tells you that you might be in danger from the creature that one nurtured you, the creature you now call your life mate. I go to the kitchen and pull out the red bottle, our so called liqueur from the fridge. I take a look at what you are doing, silently spying on you. You are taking off your formal clothes and changing into something more suited for our purpose tonight. I smile, picking up the two goblets and the red bottle, walk towards you. I open the bottle, letting the scent of the contents reach our sensitive senses. I smile as I see you are wearing nothing but the collar of a slave made from steel, and the chains that bind your hands together. I feed you the liquid we call life, a little human blood mixed with red wine, and watch as your body reacts to the sensuality of the moment, I smile letting the indiscretion go, as we have not yet started. You begin to tie on your blind fold as I drink from the very same nectar of life. I finish my goblet, and our passionate night begins.

I grab the chains that bind your hands, I close the steel collar at your neck and give you a gentle kiss that seems to be too quick to be real. Then I pull you roughly to follow me down to the basement where we have played this game before. I have no need to count the stairs for you, you have memorized their number long ago. We descend into the dark shadows that awaits there. At the landing, we stop to light some candles, for the sake of the mood. Your body already erect and you're breathing getting heavier, with the anticipation. We move on to the metal frame you know awaits you. The cold of the metal makes you shiver, yet you maintain your aroused state. I smile at your discomfort, I take the leather straps and place your arms into them roughly, tying you up, leaving your body at the mercy of my whim. Then with the movement more like a cat than human, I also tie your legs to this so called surgical table. Once bound from head to foot, I make sure that your blindfold is securely tied into place. Another smile creeps across my face as I see your beautiful male mouth tremble a little in fear and anticipation of the ritual that is only a few minutes away. I walk over to the back wall, where all the tools I need for our intimate time together are found. Reaching for a black wax candle, I find my goal. With a smile of satisfaction I snap my fingers and the candle is lit. I turn to walk towards you ever so slowly, letting the wax melt. I say a whispered prayer to the gods above and commence out night of pleasure.

I see your helpless body on that cold surgical steel table. I must admit that I am impressed that your body is still hard even if it is lying on cold metal and the room itself is freezing. I find the spot where I want to start, I tip the candle ever so slowly over your chest and let the hot drops fall, one by one on your flesh. I see you grimace and your body reacts to my manipulation by arching, your arms and ankles straining your bonds. I continue this gentle torture as I let the black drops fall on your nipples and on your sensitive abs. A sob escapes your lips as the hot wax reaches beyond your belly going ever lower. Slower yet, I continue this hot manipulation by staying still for a few minutes, letting your uneven breathing relax a bit, letting the wax pool once more. I run a sharp nail trough the spots where I have already tortured you, and hear you moan as I scrape the cold wax from your sensitive skin. By this time, the candle has melted enough to allow me one of my special tortures. I let one drop hit your hips, one at a time, you resist me by remaining silent. For your insubordination I pick up the riding crop near me and I hit your erect manhood with a fast yet stinging smack, you hiss, and fight your bonds once more. I see that you are ready to continue my silent but persistent torture. The hot wax flows from the candle in my hand to your anticipating body below. As the first drops of the hot wax hit the sensitive head of your already erect manhood you growl, the cry of a wild animal in the throes of pleasure and pain. I coat your whole manhood with the black liquid. Your head moving side to side, mumbling things no one else can understand, moaning out loud and fighting you bonds.

You yell out in pain and yet you still remain erect. I move to other parts of your body with the black candle. As I work my way up again, I place the flame of the candle on the now thick cold black wax that coats your manhood and melt it away; I let the flame singe you just a bit, until you start to struggle and I stop. I kill the flame and let the burn cool off a few minutes before beginning to strip the black wax from your manhood. Once all the wax is off and your struggles are ones of pleasure and not pain, I kiss the tip of your beautiful manhood. Lovingly, I stroke its full length almost reverently and lick the slight burn there. I kiss it once more making you groan out loud before returning to the work at hand. With a silk Cat-o-nine tipped with steel tips, I start punishing your beloved body once more. I lash out without mercy until little weals rise on your skin, some beading red drops of blood like precious rubies. I quickly lick them up, not wanting to waste a single drop. I strike your chest, lashing each nipple about ten times before moving on to the other one. Lashing your abdomen, each rib paid attention to with the loving caress of the steel tips tied to the soft, yet harsh silk. Moving down to your belly, striking hard, leaving bleeding trails as I go lower, in what almost seems like a religious fervor I strike your inner thighs, not even counting the lashings given. The rivulets of blood that run down have brought out the beast in me. I am in bloodlust, as I strike again and again. Your silent struggles turn to pleas, pleas I can no longer understand as I lash out at your erect manhood.

Flipping my wrist with practiced ease, I make sure that the silk strands of the Cat-o-nine wrap themselves around your erect shaft, the steel tips biting into the flesh as I continue my blood bath. I stop the torment only for a moment, then with renewed fervor, I strike at your scrotum, each lashing making you arch and moan in pleasure and pain. I finally stop, exhausted by the ferocity of my attack on your precious body. I look at you, and you are breathing heavy, twisting, and fighting your bonds. I run a hand down the bloody welts on your skin and lick my fingers to taste your life essence. I then turn, dropping my nightgown, and climb atop of you. I lick all the blood on your skin gently with my tongue until only the red welts are left, but all the blood is gone. You seem to be curiously still after the tongue bath I have given you, yet you are still breathing heavy, still very erect.

I reach out to undo the bindings of your arms and your legs, but instruct you to remain where you are. I do not remove the blindfold, yet I can sense your thoughts scanning the area with your extra sensory perception. I gently kiss your lips and you return the kiss with the ferocity still locked in you from all the pain and blood loss you have suffered at my hands. My whole body goes up in flames it seems, the electricity between us as intense as any storm in the Pacific Ocean. I run my hands down your body, feeling it, and memorizing it all over again, every beloved inch. Your hands go straight for my breasts as you start to caress and pull them towards your mouth. I bend, to give you easier access, and to also remove the last restraint, the blindfold. As your hands grab my hips and your manhood slides into me, I groan. The pleasure is so intense, as I adjust to your large and engorged cock, I lock my arms about you and we begin our age old dance of love and pleasure. As I start to ride you, your sensual moans make my pleasure spike and I look into your eyes. Never in my two millennia have I felt this way over anyone, nor have they affected me the way you do.

As I go up and down your hardness with renewed energy, we twist and moan. I grind myself against you as the sensations over take my body, and your pelvis meets my hips with the rhythm we have set. Up and down and down and up, over and over as your hands guide me. You writhe under me as the pace fastens, our blood scorching our bodies with desire and need. Deeply your hard and thick manhood pounds my tight and hot sheath, your moans becoming louder, joining my own cries of pleasure. We breathe faster and harder as the our bodies strain under the delicious sensations of our passionate union. I throb and squeeze your manhood not being able to stop it. Your hands guiding me faster and faster as loud moans escape our lips, feeling our bodies tense as we come close to the edge. You throw your head back and bite your lip as you move inside meone hand leaving my hip. That hand moves to my mound, finding my swollen and throbbing clit, you start to massage it with feather light touches. I groan and tighten on your hot and swelling cock, as your light touches becomes hard and you press my hardened pleasure nub. That sensual torture throws me over the edge as I cry out loud. Throwing my head back, and arching my body I orgasm, and flood your extremely swollen hardness with my sweet, and hot honey, which triggers your own climax and you scream as you clutch me tightly to you. You buck, writhe and growl as pleasure takes us both beyond our bodies into pleasure's twilight. I am drained of everything, and fall unto your chest, breathing hard. You hold on to me and kiss me reverently as we come down passion's high. I let you hold me, knowing that this has not ended, The night is still young; the sunrise is still a lifetime ahead, and as we lay together in each other's arms