John was sitting in an armchair in the lounge of the hotel he was staying, sipping a beer. His eyes were glued to the tall platinum blond who had just entered the premise. He noticed her full red lips and her long, fire-engine red fingernails as well as her extremely generous chest, covered up by a black leather jacket.

“Fuck she’s hot” he thought.

She sat down on a bar stool, hiking up her tight black leather skirt in the process and giving John a look at her muscular thighs. She ordered a drink, engaging the bartender in a short conversation. She hooked the 10-cm stiletto heel of her right black leather pump onto the rung of her barstool and crossed her left leg over her opposite knee.

John grabbed his beer bottle and went over to the woman, confident that the evening would end in some hot and heavy action culminating in the delivery of his steamy load either down her throat or deep within her bowels.

And why should he not be confident? After all he was a snappy dresser and rather handsome. He had a muscular body, a full head of hair, shiny white teeth and a self-assuredness which, so far, had always allowed him to bed any woman he had set his eyes on.

“My name is John” he said with poise.

The woman turned her head toward him and looked him up from head to toe.

“Mmmmm” she thought “Not bad”.

“Victoria” she said in a deep sensuous voice.

“Pleased to meet you Vicky” he continued.

She looked at him with contempt, then turned away, staring straight ahead.

“Uh, I’m sorry Victoria” he added quickly, “can I buy you another drink?”

An almost imperceptible smile flashed across the woman’s lips; “excellent!” she thought before looking at him with her unnaturally deep blue eyes and saying: “A Manhattan”.

John motioned the bartender for another cocktail for Victoria and a beer for himself.

“Are you staying at the hotel?” he asked.

“No, I live in the city but I like to come to this lounge, it is as cosmopolitan as I get these days” she replied, “you?”

“Yea, I’m here for a conference, I fly back home tomorrow” he retorted.

They engaged in a bit of small talk. She let him do most of the talking, laughing at his unfunny jokes, briefly putting her hand on his thigh, removing a strain of her long hair from her face with a quick head toss or an enticing sweep with her fingers.

“Oh yea, she’s mine” thought John, “another notch on my belt”.

After her second Manhattan and his fourth beer, she said: “I feel like dancing, I know a place not far from here, are you game?”

“Sure” he said even though he hated dancing, he hated it with a passion. Making a fool of himself prancing around the dance floor was not his idea of fun but if it meant getting those red lips around his stiff cock and his hands on those fleshy mounds; he would have done cartwheels.

They both inhaled deeply as they left the hotel, taking in the fresh air. The day’s heat had been replaced by more comfortable temperatures.

They had barely made a few steps when John turned toward Victoria, pulled her close and pressed his lips onto hers. She immediately darted her tongue into his mouth and rubbed her knee over his already hard cock.

“I live just a block from here” she said.

“Let’s go then” he replied.

In less than 10 minutes they had reached her apartment building.

“Good evening Ms Victoria” said the doorman, while tipping his head and opening the door. He was a big burly black guy, dressed in an ostentatious livery and white gloves.

“Good evening Henry” said Victoria.

The couple walked over to the elevators where she swiped an access card across a pad. Seconds later, the elevator arrived and they both stepped in. She swiped her card across another pad inside and the elevator started its ascend to her penthouse apartment.

As soon as they had stepped inside, John kissed her again and started to grope her breasts through the soft leather.

“Not so fast” she said, pushing him back gently.

She walked toward the bedroom, motioning him to follow her.

Once inside, John started to get undressed.

“Why don’t you let me take care of that?” said Victoria.

She continued to remove his clothing, kissing each newly uncovered piece of skin, sucking and licking his nipples until he was standing there in his socks and distended boxer shorts.

Victoria motioned him to lie down on her king-sized bed, covered with red satin sheets and fitted with black wrought iron head- and footboards and four corner posts.

When he was lying there on his back, she moved his right arm above his head and attached his wrist to the headboard with a silk scarf.

“You don’t mind I hope” enquired Victoria, “trust me, you will not regret it”.

John didn’t mind at all. For him, this started to look more and more like a night to remember. Most of his other conquests had been younger women who were eager to please but didn’t always know how. Of course, as long as they spread their legs for him, John was happy. But it was refreshing to be with a woman like this one who knew how to please a man in more ways than one.

So he actually brought his other arm up himself for Victoria to fasten his wrist to the headboard. When he was all trussed up, she lightly scratched her fingernails down John’s torso and rippled abs until she reached his underwear. She hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled down the shorts.

“Mmmmmhh” she said, smacking her lips as she pulled it past John’s hard-on which had jumped up like a spring being suddenly released. Victoria removed his underwear completely and pulled off his socks. Then she fastened John’s ankles to the footboard.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she stood up and hiked up her leather skirt until she could insert her thumbs into the elastic band of her panties and then pulled them off. She brought them up to John’s nose so that he could inhale her feminine scent.

“Oh yea baby” he said, sticking out his tongue.

Victoria obliged and rubbed the crotch of her lacy underwear over it before stuffing the material into his mouth. Taking another silk scarf, she wrapped it around John’s head and over his mouth, to secure her feminine gag.

At that point John started to get worried. But his anxieties quickly vanished when he saw Victoria move toward his still rock hard organ, open her mouth, and slide her tongue down its shaft and then…

“Aaaaahh” he moaned; his cry of pain muffled by the gag.

Victoria looked up, growling like a panther as John’s eyes filled with terror at the sight of her bl**d covered fangs.

She immediately went back to his now deflated cock to suck up the bl**d which was spewing profusely from the bite she had inflicted to the base of his penis. John was getting weaker and weaker from the loss of bl**d and soon he stopped to struggle against his restraints.

When Victoria was done, she bandaged the wound to prevent any further bleeding. She removed the restraints from the half-conscious man, then threw him over her shoulder like a ragdoll and carried him into a sound-proofed room where she laid him onto a rubber covered mattress. She removed his gag then restrained his arms and legs onto the solid-steel bed-frame. She disinfected his right cubital fossa and stuck a needle into the prominent vein circulating through it, securing it in place with medical tape. Attached to the needle was a tube which led to a saline/glucose solution bag. Then, she inserted the nozzle of a colon hydrator into John’s anus and a catheter through his urethra into his bladder, securing both in place. The colon hydrator was programmed to flush out any waste from his rectum twice a day straight into the floor drain installed under the bed. She fed another tube through his nose into his stomach. Attached to this tube was a pump programmed to feed a nutrient mash every four hours. She set the saline solution to a slow drip, then she turned off the light and left the room, making sure to firmly close the two sound-proofed doors behind her.

“This should keep him for at least a couple of weeks” she thought.

It was shortly after 2 am, another 3 hours before sunrise. She went over to the large window overlooking the city. Even at this time of the night, it was still buzzing. She wondered how many people, still crowding the streets, bars and dance halls, were vampires like herself, in the prowl for fresh bl**d to keep them going for another day or another week. As she was staring at the lights below, she removed her blond wig and hairnet, freeing her dark brown hair whose tips caressed the top of her shoulders as she was shaking it loose. She drew the dark curtains shut, making sure that no sunlight would penetrate through any cracks during the day. Walking over to the bathroom she removed her blue lenses and stored them in a case; looking into a mirror for this operation was useless as she did not have a reflection. Then she pulled off the artificial fingernails and stored them as well. The saline solution she had injected into her lips to make them look puffier started to be resorbed, giving them back their much thinner appearance. Finally she removed her leather skirt and than her jacket and took out the breast enhancements which brought her chest back from an overly generous DDD to a more reasonable and very attractive B. She removed her bra and looked at her body. “Not bad for a 250 year old” she thought. She slipped into a robe, went over to her laptop and sat down. She stared at the blank screen. Where to begin?

She had thought about writing her memoirs for a while but she wanted to be as accurate as possible. Of course she did not remember every single voluntary or involuntary donor which had allowed her to continue to live. But some of them had definitely left an indelible mark on her.

She thought back at the beginning, when her adventure started. She was a lady-in-waiting to Marie Antoinette, Queen to King Louis XVI of France. Following the storming of the Bastille in 1789, there was a backlash against anything aristocratic and religious. Over the next 5 years a lot of “blue bl**ds” and members of the clergy were arrested and eventually lost their heads to the guillotine. Having been associated with the much hated Marie Antoinette, she ended up in, what could only be described as, a warehouse for b**sts, where men and women alike were kept until their ultimate fate. They were all sl**ping on straw and using whatever they could find to relieve themselves. After a while, the stench of piss and shit was unbearable. Of course, seeing death day in day out, fornication was rampant. So she was not surprised when she was approached by a man of the cloth, prisoner like herself, for some sexual favours. She was surprised though, when he offered her eternal life in exchange for her services. Of course she was sceptic about his claim of eternal life, thinking that he was talking about the eternal life of her soul. But like most other people in this situation, she did what seemed the most life affirming she could think of and offered her body to him. Performing fellatio on his dirty organ was not very pleasant but she thoroughly enjoyed having her stinky cunt licked by so expert a tongue; no doubt, hers was not the first one this so-called man of god had pleasured. When he was on top of her, his meat coming and going between her well lubricated lips, she felt a bite to her neck and soon, all life started to drain out of her.

When she regained consciousness, she was very confused. She had a metallic taste in her mouth and the man who had taken his pleasure with her moments earlier was holding her in his arms.

“Don’t be afraid; you are one of us now” he said with a big smile, exposing his fangs.

After her initial shock, he explained to her all the dos and don’ts of being a vampire, pointing out that she was now frozen in time, so whatever her physical state was when she joined the so-called un-dead, she would remain for eternity, i.e. she would remain 24 for ever. He told her that humans or a****ls could not harm vampires as any injury they inflicted on them would heal as quickly as it happened, except if her head was severed and removed from the body. However, any other vampire could kill a vampire. She should also be aware of the sun as she could easily be burned by its rays, even to the point of death. She would need to refresh her bl**d periodically, ideally with a healthy human but in a pinch, a sick human or even bl**d from an a****l would do. Being a vampire also gave her superhuman strength as well as some other powers she would discover and then develop over time.

Of course, the first order of business was to escape. Using her feminine charms, she managed to bribe one of the guards, offering him her perky body in exchange for her liberty. Unfortunately, she could not save the one who had given her this gift of life and he was eventually executed, his head being separated from his body by the sharp blade of the guillotine.

She made her way eastward, travelling at night and trying to find a place away from the sun during the day, never staying more than a few days in one location, always looking over her shoulder.

Eventually she got used to the lifestyle of a vampire and didn’t think twice about jumping on any man, woman or c***d to suck their precious liquid, taking their lives to prolong hers.

Conflicts and wars were always her favourite times; there was never any shortage of fresh bl**d. During the Napoleonic wars, she used to follow the troupes, roaming the battle fields at night, feasting on dying soldiers. She did not discriminate, French, Prussian, English, Russian, all of their bl**d was red, and welcome. Later, during the First World War, she managed to find work as a nurse in a British field hospital. They even dubbed her the “Night Angel” as she always volunteered for the night shift and to watch over the most desperate cases, such as soldiers with their faces half shot off, or with missing limbs who had not much of a chance to make it; so nobody was surprised to find them dead the next morning. She repeated her deeds during the Second World War when she was working in a German hospital. You might even say that in some way she contributed to the Allied war effort by eliminating some German soldiers. Of course, she never gave them any of her bl**d which would have transformed them into vampires and who knows how they would have used or abused their powers.

Even men who voluntarily gave their liquor of life to her, she did not take into the other world. Such was the case of this twenty-something guy who actually wanted to become a vampire. It was during the mid 1950’s and what police never managed to do, he did, tracking her down based on newspaper stories of unexplained phenomena which could be related to vampirism. At the time, Victoria was living in the “birthplace” of the whole vampire myth, Transylvania. She was on vacation of sorts, needing to get away from all the hustle and bustle of the cities for a while. He stayed with her for about a month during which she told him everything there was to know about vampires. He grew more and more fascinated and begged her to take his bl**d and transform him into one of them. So one day she obliged and started to suck his life juice, only taking enough at a time to sustain her for a few days and for him to recover enough to supply her again. Eventually he had become so weak that she decided to put an end to it. She told him that tonight he would cross over to the land of the un-dead. The poor boy, died with a smile on his face. She was tempted to give him her bl**d and thus let him become a vampire but in the end she just could not give such powers to a man, because she knew that sooner or later he would abuse it, just like this one vampire had done, in 1847.

At the time, she was living in Vienna. One night, she was walking home through the narrow streets of the city when she noticed somebody following her. She turned around and saw a rather handsome young man. Even though she did not need to feed at this time, she did slow down so that he could catch up to her; this was a chance she just could not let pass. Hearing his footsteps coming closer and closer she was about to turn around when he jumped her, pushed up her dress and petticoats and inserted his erection violently into her intimate folds. While he was doing his deed without any regard for her, he bit her neck to suck her precious liquid. Realising that she was, like him, a vampire and that her bl**d was not much use to him, he stopped sucking but continued to violate her until he had gotten his pleasure. Then he stood up, aimed his now semi-hard cock at her body and pissed all over her dress and hair before leaving, laughing all the way down the street.

Up until this time of her vampire life, she had always been in charge. She thought back at the time she was at Court and was pretty much fair game for any little baronet who wanted to use her. But after she had become a vampire she had sworn to herself that nobody, absolutely nobody, would ever take advantage of her again. But now she had been violated and humiliated and the only thing which might redeem it would be the death of the perpetrator. And so, lying on the cold and wet cobblestones, her hair soaked in the stinky piss of her assailant; she swore that she would not rest until she had killed him.

Knowing that he needed to feed, she started to scour the streets around the area where she had seen him previously. It wasn’t long before she saw him at the arm of a young woman. They were walking down the very same street he had assaulted her so she followed them, waiting for the right moment. Suddenly they disappeared from view so she hurried down the narrow street until she came to the entrance of a building where she saw the man lying on top of the young woman, clearly having his pleasure with her while sucking her bl**d. She took out the knife she had brought in her purse and then everything happened in a flash. She grabbed his hair, pulled back his head and with a swift move she slashed his throat. He jumped up to confront his assailant but as he reached for her he was overcome by weakness resulting from the loss of bl**d. He dropped to his knees and then fell face first onto the wet cobblestones. She went over to the woman and turned her over. She was beautiful, probably not much older than 16 or 17. Judging from the way she was dressed, she was a prostitute. Victoria dipped her handkerchief into the bl**d from the man before it had completely disappeared between the stones and then wrung it out over the parted lips of the young woman. When she opened her eyes she looked at Victoria who reassured her before wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and, supporting her, they walked to a main artery where Victoria hailed a fiacre to bring them to her apartment. Sissy, the young woman, was quite weak, she needed to feed, and soon. When Victoria told her this, her vampire instincts kicked in. She told her that she wanted to suck the bl**d from the man who had been her pimp since she was 14. She told her what he looked like and how to find him. Like most men, it was not very difficult for Victoria to convince him to follow her home where the women feasted on him before throwing his drained body into the Danube.

Sissy and Victoria stayed together for almost a year, bringing home men, for both their sexual gratification and the invaluable gift of life these men carried within their veins…

Victoria rose from her seat and stretched. The morning light was faintly diffusing through the dark curtains. She took off her robe and went to bed, drawing the dark curtains around it. She tried to fall asl**p but the memory of Sissy and the events surrounding her disappearance kept her awake.

She had grown fond of her and sometimes she missed her. She thought back at the time she saw her last.

…Sissy had fallen in love with Felix von Hasentropp, a dashing young officer of the Imperial cavalry. She started to fantasise about having a normal life, getting married, having c***dren.

“You cannot have a normal f****y life” Victoria told her. “How would you explain that everybody around you got older but you did not?”

But Sissy was undeterred. One day Victoria came home to find her packing her bags.

“What are you doing” she asked.

“We are eloping” she said, all smiles. “He said that his f****y would never accept me but because he loved me so much, we should elope and get married and then they had to accept me. And tonight, I’m going to make him one of us” she finally said while running out the door, giddy with excitement.

“Don’t do it” shouted Victoria but Sissy was gone.

Victoria did not hear from her for over a month.

Felix on the other hand was making headlines almost daily. His fearless conduct against the enemies of the Empire, made him a hero, despite, as was pointed out in the papers, the disadvantage of having to wear a full body suit, covering the entire surface of his body.

“Of course he is fearless” thought Victoria, “he is immortal, and he certainly won’t have any problems finding enough bl**d, he just has to roam the battle field at night”.

There was never any mention of any marriage until the announcement of his engagement to a high-society girl. Victoria was very perturbed about this news. There was no doubt in her mind that Felix had become a vampire and that he had somehow gotten rid of Sissy.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she read a short article, on the second to last page of the very same newspaper which had announced Felix’s engagement. The article talked about the body of a young prostitute who had been found severely decomposed. She had been brutally stabbed and her throat had been slit. To be sure, Victoria went to the police station to identify the remains. Even though it was hardly human anymore, having been in the water for such a long time, she did recognised her at a few distinctive marks such as a shorter pinkie finger at her left hand, a large brown mole on her right inner thigh and her straw blond hair. The police didn’t really ask any questions, it was only a prostitute after all, nobody cared. They wrote down her name, “Elisabeth ‘Sissy’ Moser” and closed the file.

She knew it would be difficult to get close to Felix but she had no choice, he had to die and before he could marry his fiancée and especially before he could consummate his marriage and, horrors of horrors; impregnate her. She shuddered at the thought. What would a half vampire-half human be; would the baby be immortal, would it need to feed on his or her mother’s bl**d instead of her milk, would it even be able to develop or remain an embryo for ever?

Victoria figured that the best opportunity would be at the wedding. There would be so many people that she could easily slip in as one of the guests.

The wedding was a very elaborate affair, after all both the bride and the groom were from the finest families of the Empire. After the ceremony, there was food and wine and dance. The partying lasted all night, then at about 4 o’clock in the morning, as most guests had retired, Felix took his bride to the wedding chamber where Victoria, who had previously staked out the location, was waiting for them. She had taken off her ample dress and, along with her shoes, had hidden it under the bed. Only wearing her white corset and puffy, open-crotched pantaloons, she was waiting behind the curtains, having a good view of the bed through a small gap.

When Felix came in with his bride he commanded her to take off her wedding dress. Victoria could see the fear in the eyes of the young woman; it was obvious that she had never been with a man. When she did not move fast enough, Felix ripped the dress off her body, uncovering a beautiful pair of perky breasts and her fine lacy underwear. She immediately fled under the covers of the bed, holding them just under her chin, to conceal her shame. Felix took his sabre and used it to remove the sheets the woman was holding until he could see her, crouched down, covering as much of her body as possible with her arms and hands. He planted the sabre into the wooden floor and proceeded to remove his clothes until he was standing in front of his bride, revealing what she had never seen before. The fear in her eyes grew larger. Felix advanced toward the bed, put one knee on it and he was about to pull away her hands to reveal his woman’s quasi naked body when, in a flash, Victoria emerged from behind the curtain, grabbed the sabre and severed Felix’s head which fell to the floor with a thump while his body collapsed forward onto the bed, spewing its bl**d all over the linens and the young woman who let out a scream at the sight of her husband’s decapitated body falling towards her. Victoria jumped onto the woman, pressing a hand onto her mouth and sinking her teeth deep into her throat. She listened. There was no noise. Nobody seemed to have noticed the screech or they just mistook it for the cry of a virgin loosing her innocence to her husband. Victoria sat up. She was covered in bl**d. She looked at the young woman. “What a pity” she thought. “She is so young. It is sad to die a virgin”. She was temped to revive her as a vampire and give her another lease on life. She briefly imagined her replacing Sissy. But then reason prevailed. She got up, removed her bl**d-soaked clothing and wrapped it up in a blanket. Then she got dressed again, snuck out of the bridal room and out of the house. As she was running through the empty streets of the city, tears were running down her cheeks. “What is this” she thought, “I am a vampire, I cannot be sentimental”. And usually she wasn’t. She did indiscriminately take bl**d from whom ever she could, regardless of gender or age. But this was different, she felt like she knew the young woman even though they had never met and she felt that she was a victim of circumstances beyond her control.

In the days following, the news of the gruesome death of Felix and his new bride was of course the talk of the town and far beyond. Everybody had an opinion on what happened. Eventually, somebody got arrested and executed for the crime.

But by then Victoria was long gone. When she had arrived at her apartment the morning of the deed, her two large trunks had already been picked up and were well on their way to Paris.

She needed to leave Vienna. Not because she feared being associated with Felix’s demise but because she needed to get away from the reminders of all the unfortunate events which had marked her life for the last year. She changed into her travel clothes and went back downstairs where a coach was waiting for her. She climbed on board and closed the d****s, trying to shut out the world around her. The coachman had been paid very well for his services which included not to ask any questions and not to check up on her.

They made several stops along the way, to rest or change the horses and for the coachman to have a meal and some rest as well. Victoria usually only left the coach at night and was always back before sunrise to continue the voyage. Travelling through the Rhone valley, they were stopped by a bunch of highwaymen demanding a ransom for continued safe travel through their territory. Victoria was in no mood to argue so she just paid them the money requested.

The whole sojourn took almost 2 weeks but eventually they arrived in Paris. She decided to stay there for a few months. It was the first time since she had become a vampire that she had returned to the city where her new life had started. Things had changed dramatically but the city was still in turmoil, another revolution, changes in government, from republic to monarchy back to republic and always some bl**dshed; so a few months became a few years. Finally, following the German invasion of 1871, she left France for London. There, instead of staying in the more luxurious dwellings she was used to, she decided to rent a low cost flat in the East End, amongst the prostitutes and the thieves and other low-lives. Not that she had any monetary worries. She had always managed to take advantage of men’s weaknesses, milking them for every penny they had before milking them for their last drops of bl**d. On occasion she even became the mistress of some wealthy suitors who lavished her with money and expensive gifts, even some real-estate; and thanks to some good investments, she did not have to worry about running out of money.

For a while, she enjoyed her life amongst the riffraff. She did not have a care in the world. There was plenty of bl**d around and nobody cared about the body of another poor man or woman washing up on the banks of the Thames. But after a couple of years, she missed the life of luxury, the fine dining, the theatre, the balls and just mingling with the upper crust. She became the mistress and then the wife of a rich industrialist and when he died, under mysterious circumstances, she inherited a fair chunk of his fortune including some dividends from the profits from his factories, for life; of course, the solicitor who drew up the will didn’t realise that Victoria’s life would go on for ever. Around 1885, she became the mistress of an aristocrat, in fact, a distant member of the Royal f****y.

He was very peculiar, being fascinated with murder, bl**d and torture. He had studied the lives and crimes of Elizabeth Báthory and Gilles de Rais and had poured over the transcripts from the different Inquisitions. His favourite read was the “Malleus Maleficarum”. She stayed with him for about a year, just enough time to forge her own relationships with the high society. She did feel uneasy about him. She had never developed a fascination for bl**d like he had, for her it was just another means of keeping alive. She often wondered whether she should not have killed him, especially after the gruesome murders which would happen just a few years later. Of course she could not be sure whether he was Jack the Ripper especially since she had left London by then but a doubt always remained in her mind.

Following the First World War, there was euphoria all across Europe. People had just survived two great calamities, the war and the Spanish Influenza which had claimed millions of lives. There was no place as wild as Berlin. The roaring twenties were just that, it was a time of: “anything goes”. The depth of depravity seemed to have no bottom. If you had the money to buy it, somebody would sell it to you. Of course one perversity was to Victoria’s advantage, vampirism. Men would buy the services of women who would bite them and suck their bl**d to the point of loosing consciousness while having an orgasm. Or they would seek women from whom they would drink bl**d while engaging in wild sexual frenzies. This was manna for Victoria. She could get her fill of bl**d every day and get paid by her victims. Every night she would roam the streets of Berlin to offer her services, from brothel to cabaret, to the street, she never had a problem finding clients. One night she went to a cabaret and, there on stage was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. In a languorous voice, she was singing German, French and English love songs while the crowd was revelling. She, was a mulatta, with black hair, a light brown skin, the stature of a Greek goddess. She was dressed in a white ankle-long dress, closed high around her neck, embracing her sensuous forms while at the same time creating a boundary not to be crossed. She was off-limits to the patrons of the cabaret who could only fantasise about her without ever being able to get close to her. When Victoria saw her, she felt something she had never felt before, not for any man and especially not for any woman. There was something about this woman that grabbed her right away, a sort of kinship, she almost felt like she had finally found her soul mate. She had to meet her. She bought all the red roses from an itinerant flower girl and had them sent to her dressing room. On her card she pressed her red lips.

After the woman had come out for her second set, she was looking for the person who might have sent her the flowers and such a mysterious card. When their gazes crossed, they both knew that this night would change them forever. Following the show, Victoria visited the woman in her dressing room. They looked at each other for what seemed an eternity and then, the woman said: “my name is Isabella”.


They looked into each others empty eyes and realising that they shared the same fate, they hugged each other. Eventually they ended up at Isabella’s apartment where they talked for hours. They shared the stories of their lives, confining their deepest secrets, things they could only tell to another of their kind.

Isabella had been a vampire for about 100 years. She was the result of the **** of her Black slave mother by the son of a white plantation owner. When she was 18, she was sold to another master in Haiti who used her as his sexual slave. He had no regard for the feelings of the young woman and there was no depravity too low that he would not subject her to it. After a few months, she could not bare it any longer and after a night of the most degrading actions she had ever been subjected to, she killed her master after which she fled into the nearby jungle. Being ripped apart by wild a****ls seemed to be more enviable than been rapped by her master’s henchman before being brutally put to death by them. As she ran aimlessly through the dense forest, she fell into the hands of a voodoo priest who was going to use her as a sacrifice during one of his ceremonies. A few days after her capture, she was laid out, naked, on a stone alter. The priest and several of his male and female disciples gathered around her. Accompanied by the monotonous chants from the congregation, the priest took a ceremonial knife, applied it to the young woman’s throat and, as the chants reached their culmination; he cut it with a quick draw of the sharp implement. As soon as the bl**d started to flow, all the disciples lapped it up eagerly.

Isabella woke up a few minutes later, the gash in her throat had disappeared but the priest was on top of her, burying his large erection deep inside her body, under the encouragement of the other people until he spurted his hot seed in her womb.

She became the priest’s sex slave, being kept in a cage during the day and having her entrails ripped apart every night by his huge member. Isabella knew that she had to escape, she could not stand being a slave anymore, being used by whom ever wanted her for their pleasure.

One night, after a particularly ferocious assault by her captor, she noticed that the shackles which usually attached her to the pole erected in the middle of the clearing, was loose. The priest liked to take her there so that all the other members of the congregation could see them. Of course she was used to being humiliated but somehow, this whole situation was more degrading than anything she had experienced to this point.

While the priest and the others were sl**ping, she extricated herself from her restraints and fled into the jungle. Surviving on the bl**d of creatures of the forest, she eventually made it back to civilisation, snuck onto a ship which brought her all the way to Britain where she stayed for the next 50 or so years. Just like Victoria, she used her incredibly good looks to snare rich suitors and live off their wealth and inheritance. Ending up in Berlin where she met Victoria.

Because of the way she had become a vampire, she had retained her female characteristics, going through a menstrual cycle and even aging, but much more slowly than humans. For her, one year was like 10 human-years and a cycle lasted a full year. When they met, her external appearance was that of an early thirty year old. Until that moment, she had never thought about stopping the aging process by drinking the bl**d of a regular vampire. But meeting Victoria changed everything. The women realised that, while they enjoyed men from time to time, they felt only really comfortable with each other. Only a person of the same gender could break the cycle of loneliness.

The two women stayed together for over 15 years, weathering the great depression which had left them financially less well-off but there was never any lack of fresh bl**d. Eventually, they went their own ways until they met again, in the new millennium in New York City. Isabella was again singing in nightclubs and dating rich entrepreneurs and other high-society types to sustain her lifestyle…

Victoria woke up as the sun was setting. She had dreamed of Isabella, of her beautiful and firm body caressing hers, of her full breast she loved to hold in her hands, of her mouth and lips she missed around her nipples and on her love button. She reminisced about Isabella’s scent, especially when she was menstruating. She loved the taste and smell of her love juices mixed with her menstrual bl**d. A slight oversight when she stopped her aging process. She was just at the tail end of her cycle when it happened which meant that she would, for the rest of her life be cursed with some bleeding; not the best thing for a vampire.

Victoria took the phone and dialled Isabella’s number.

“Hello, Isabella? It’s Victoria. Isn’t Monday your night off?”

“Perfect. Are you hungry, because I have a little surprise for you here?”

“I can’t hardly wait, see you in a bit”.

Victoria hung up and went to check on John.

“Perfect” she thought as she saw the naked man struggling in his restraints, shouting at her at the top of his lungs.

Yes, he will be just perfect to share with her lover. And so what if they drained him tonight, they could always get another one tomorrow. She just had to leave enough bl**d for Henry who would take care of disposing of the empty carcass.

She left the man in the sound-proofed room, getting ready for the arrival of her lover in a few minutes.

The end

Copyright thejanus, 2009.

86% (7/1)
Categories: Fetish
Posted by thejanus
3 years ago    Views: 609
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3 years ago
A continuation of this would be brilliant :) xxx
3 years ago
It was just getting to the good part. Is there more to it?
3 years ago
I enjoyed the story. Thanks for posting.