Sensual Vampire

Sensual Vampire Sensual Vampire

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


this is very much an experiment of something which I've thought of on and off in the past for about five years, though never really had the inspiration to actually get past the first few pages. It's an adaption of the traditional vampire book/theme but rather than the traditional blood sucking thirst, thats been replaced with something a little more carnal and sexual


this is very much an experiment of something which I've thought of on and off in the past for about five years, though never really had the inspiration to actually get past the first few pages.
It's an adaption of the traditional vampire book/theme but
rather than the traditional blood sucking thirst, thats been replaced with something a little more carnal and sexual

Chapter1 (v.1) - Sensual Vampire

Author Chapter Note

this is very much an experiment of something which I've thought of on and off in the past for about five years, though never really had the inspiration to actually get past the first few pages.<br /> It's an adaption of the traditional vampire book/theme but<br /> rather than the traditional blood sucking thirst, thats been replaced with something a little more carnal and sexual

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 05, 2012

Reads: 1851

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 05, 2012



My body is a temple of beauty, an angelic creation devised to teased and torment, to stimulate and corrupt, my mind equally as dark, erotically challenged, and a soul that belonged to no-one but myself, it was driven and guided by deepest desires and lustful whims which I sought not to create but indulge.

In the past I have been known by many names, most neither complimentary nor pleasing, I’ve roamed this world for two centuries or more, stalking, hunting, beguiling and entrancing. I am a breed of enchantress that you have never known before, a crossover of two species, one as mythical as the hauntingly beautiful looks that I have, the other the only source of life on this world.

My name currently is Annabel Wilding, a person whom nobody had heard of until a few weeks ago, when I strolled down the high street, commanding the attention of an audience that sought to captivated by me, almost immediately I grasped the attention of everyone who meandered through the narrow Victorian walk ways.

I have stunning blonde hair, loosely permed, that cascades and shimmered like a river of gold, I have deep set blue eyes that are as bright as sapphires themselves, glinting and sparkling in the vague, dying summer’s sun.  My face is sensuous, flawless in its pursuit of perfection, a high cheek boned structured face that is capable of only needing to use, sparse applications of cosmetic’s that highlighted and complimented the look, added to that full bodied lustrous red lips succulently coated in glossy red lip gloss. I am beauty personified and yes I do believe in my own looks, you may call that arrogance, I call it honesty. My upper body is clothed in a satin/silk top, purple in colour, designed to be tight across my chest, so that it clings almost restrictively to my shape, making my feminine chest more accentuated, more prominent and definitely more noticeable to those who looked upon its beauty. with long shapely legs which rise up majestically, embellished and embalmed in elegant sheer nylon pantyhose, a vibrant pink colour that matched with my top but also clashed beautifully, if that’s the right description with the short, mid-calf tight, black mini skirt that I wore. I am a tall, slender, woman standing at about five foot eight inches high, and a body weighing no more than nine stones, with black patent leather high heeled open toed shoes making my standing and height even more impressive to see.

I walk with confidence, some would say an air of arrogance, I am bold, confident and admit that most of the time when outside I look ravishing. Tonight I was celebrating, not for any particular reason, I just felt as though I could and should.  I am the sort of lady that many would say was at peace with her nature, her image and her body, a woman that knew how to turn heads and keep their attention and attraction firmly on her.

Throughout my often turbulent, sometimes violent history, I had tried many things, learnt the art of becoming a skilful, if sometimes deadly lover, I recognised and knew what I liked, who I liked and most importantly what I desired. A long time ago I had come to realisation that I  was a gay woman,  a lesbian, who truly found a connection that was deep, rich and luxuriant with the body of those belonging to my own gender.

To me the male body was a failed experiment in lustfulness, a disaster in passion and wasteland of feeling, it’s flat often rugged body lacked everything that I liked, there were no really nice curves, the flesh was harsh, covered by a forest of dense hair growth that I so often found abrasive, if not disgusting and the one sexual tool they had lasted for all about two minutes if I was even lucky.

Sex to me was dinner, food that nourished what remained of my soul, substance that gave me the beautiful looks and a ravaging complexion and like any connoisseur I liked to dine out in as many meals from one helping as I could get. It was all about feeding the growing huger that yearned within me, satisfying the carnal craving, delving deep into the body of the victim and extracting what I needed, what I required it.  True it was self-indulgence, but then, doesn’t everyone have the right to the food which they enjoy.

My choice of hunting for tonight was a club which I had seen advertised, a club dedicated to the gay and bi-sexual woman, from its glossy advert, it looked almost a relaxing setting, set out in a circular fashion, built upon two floors, both of which had dances floor, seating and a bar. On the ground floor, the dancing area was a small but intimate circular shape, whilst the seating was soft plush leather sofa, crafted into a semi-circle, with a bar near to the music stand, this is where I had thought I would spend most of night, sat observing  those that could become my next sensual victim.

By the time I arrived at my destination, the club itself was already a vibrant throng of people, with the heightened sense of hearing which I possessed, of which there was many, I could hear its music some half mile away. I could also hear the plethora of comments that others made about me as I sauntered purposely past them. Of course some comments could have been heard by the entire street, the usual loud, brazen or drunken yells “show us ya tits” echoed all too frequently, which really only served to confirm to me where most males held their brains, but others were more discreet, more respectful, something which I particularly liked and admired, though I would never responded to a single one, instead for the most part I just offered myself a wry smile and continued walking to where I was going.

As I entered the club, I couldn’t help but be struck by the mass of body’s, some of which were dancing, others standing and talking, whilst others just gazing hopelessly onto the dance floor in lustful delight at the visions that were before them. Just about every type and size of woman was located here in side that building, all of which I found totally and utterly sexy.

Laughter, conversations, music merged into one huge cacophony of noise, groups, couples all blissfully unaware that I, the greatest sexual predator was now amongst them, searching, looking, choosing one of them to become the next celebratory meal.

With so many body’s crammed into one place it took me a few minutes to scan them all, discounting most of them almost instantly, for no other reason than they offered me no challenge. Standing at the bar, ordering a drink, feeling maybe a dozen or so eyes flitting over my own body, gazing deep upon the flesh and form, judging me from either a far or close, viewing me with lustful eyes, it felt more like a cattle market than club, I thought to myself, but then again, I concluded, beginning to answer my own statement, what club in this day and age wasn’t a market place where purchases were bought, traded and used.

For a while I could see no one of interest, but then as I glanced into the furthest and one of the darkest alcoves in the club, I saw someone who could quite possibly be of interest to me. Straining my sense of hearing, trying to cancel out the music, the hundred and one different conversations, zoning in on the one woman that I wanted, trying to establish which if any of the group was she romantically involved with.

The woman herself was shorter in height than I, guessing her height being about five foot six, her body was slender, curvy but you couldn’t call it slight like mine. Her muscles were toned, defined, but not in an ugly way, her work out regime was probably well crafted to bring out the trimness of her body and accentuate the muscles that she required.

She wore dark black opaque tights with a short mid-thigh length spandex skirt that covered a small section of her lower body which it’s fair to say was an utter delight to behold, at the side of the skirt, closest to me was a small but significant split, allowing for easy movement without the riding up factor. She wore a loose semi-transparent blouse, but on the outside of it was a blazing red, patent leather under bust corset that hugged her waist to absolute perfection and dramatically enriched her already sumptuous breasts.

The contrast of colours was majestic, the use of clothing materials unorthodox, yet so appealing, her fashion sense experimental and suggesting an open minded approach to things.

Taking my drink, I decided to sit close to them, but not blatantly near, I knew that I didn’t have to, not with my excellent vision and superb hearing I could have heard them anywhere in the club really. Determined to watch, to observe my subject, I had over the decades learnt that one could tell a lot about a person in regard of how they spoke, sat and acted and their posture.

Listening intently to their conversations, watching the woman’s interactions which is has to be said was few and far between, I began to realise that she was intriguing to me, perhaps a puzzle, the challenge that at least for tonight I desired and who knew, maybe longer, perhaps there was no rush to discard someone such as her.

I knew she was shy, reserved, but also passionate about a great many things, she was a woman who like so many others longed to be loved and that with the right sensual, sexual partner or teacher she could become as legendry as I am. She was an educated woman, softly spoken, a lady who as of yet has not fully come to terms with her sexual nature. She liked to look good, striving to be seen, perhaps even silently admired, yet she didn’t have the confidence to go ask those that interested her.

I knew also she was aware of my own interests in her and that she was also interested in me, her rapid eye movements, sneaking, almost furtive glances, discreetly trying to glance at myself, told me so. She is I have already mentioned as sexy as hell, her figure and clothing style still laying heavily on my mind, finding her almost beguiling, which for me was a rare and extremely new thing, as I was the one who so often became the beguiling and enchanting one in other people’s eyes.

I watched as the group dwindled and dispersed, slowly each one exiting, hugging, kissing or embracing them, one of two offering me a quick glance, a whisper in her ear telling her to ask, which caused a cute swell of colour to rush into her cheeks. Over the course of five to ten minutes, the group had come down to just two, her and one other, the other about to exit, whilst my target’s attention was distracted, I moved deciding that it was time to get my reward.

As I drew level with the table the final girl looked at me, smiled and made a hasty retreat, leaving just her and me alone, in club that now barely had about twenty other people in it. I sat down opposite her, smiling, flirting with my eyes, forcing her to look at me, for a moment she resisted, they all initially do, but catching a single potent glance, usually ensnares and compels them, dragging them into something profoundly hypnotic that it’s almost bordering on mind controlling.

“Do you want a drink”, I said with a beaming, soft smile, she nodded softly, blushing, her mind rampant, her voice failing her when she needed it the most.

“You’re Annabel” she said in a nervous tone, I looked at her slightly surprised, “I heard a friend mention you” she clarified as suddenly becoming aware of how strange and weird that was, knowing someone without actually talking to them. I smiled, as that thought entered my mind, I already knew her name of course, but if nothing else I was polite. I nodded

“And you are?” I answered a little more abruptly than I had intended.

“Sara” she answered meekly, “That friend said she had seen you around town a few days ago, talked to you last night in a pub”. I strained my senses of recollection, hiding the fact that last night I had feasted twice and none of them had actually survived, which was a daunting and troublesome thought. “She said that you might not of recognised her, she worked behind the bar”, she concluded, much to my delight, as I realised neither of the two women last night were from any of the few bars that I frequented and that if she’d been talking to her tonight, then obviously she wasn’t one of them.

“I do remember yes, though to be fair it was a long night, though I can say one thing she has very cute and lovely friends”, I said with a broad smile and wink. As I finished off the sentence my hand lightly placed itself on top of hers, she made no gesture or sudden movements to pull away, and she just sat there and blushed, casting her eyes nervously downwards.

“You seem to find that hard to believe”, I said, softly stroking my fingers against hers,

“Yes I do slightly”, she mumbled as I drew my hand off hers and placed my fingers under her chin, elevating her face drawing it upwards to so that she looked directly at me.

“Why should you have trouble believing that”, I said softening my stare altering the expression on my face. She mumbled nervously, her confidence low and waning. “Come with me, let me show you something” I said standing up and offering her my hand which she graciously, if somewhat nervously accepted. “I mean look at yourself, have you ever taken the time to really look at who you are in the mirror, to see the beauty, the dramatic and adorable curves, the soft alluring contours, the wonderful, sensual body that is so ravishing” I said whispering to her in her ear as my hand touched, rose and descended over the very curves of her body that I was talking about. “What you want and need”, I continued, “is a lover who can make you realise, someone that will enjoy you, teach you and explore you. Someone that will guide you. “ as I said the word guide, one of my hands held one of hers and I drew it up her body, “so that you know every single desire of yourself, so you know that the erection of a breast can be a  playground and gateway to unbridled lust”. With my hand on top of hers, now guiding it to her rounded fully matured and sumptuous breast, I slowly began to massage the beauty of its soft delectable shape.

I could feel a spasm of delight ripple through her body, a twinge of pleasure echo and surge within her, as her mind forgot the fact that we were still in that club and her body slowly began to relax, melt into mine. “Someone” I restarted in between what was now a soulful and long embraces upon the nakedness of her exposed neck, kisses that were designed to inflict and instil passion into her body. “A person, a mentor, a lover that can teach and instruct you, watch you become the sensual young lady that both your body and soul desires”. As my words finished, I made her index finger press against the warmth and heat of her lightly pulsing sex. I felt her chest inflate, I could see her eyes close, her body relax once more, as a new wave of pure delight enveloped her internal body.

As my hands and head retreated from her body, she turned to face, her face so young, so tender, so youthful, eyes glimmering, she smiled and slowly kissed me, her own hands sliding, holding, my waist, her mouth inching closer to mine, at first it was nothing more than a symbolic, peck on the lips, but I knew, she knew she could be just restrained with that and after a second came the more meaningful embrace that was slow, majestic and full of sensual bliss as our lips melded together.

My mouth entwined with hers, lips pressing against lips, drawing, teasing the sensations into life. Her hands gently resting, just above my curving hips, whilst mine pressing against her back, drawing her against mine, feeling her feminine swell rub and caress against my own breasts whilst our kiss continued to grow slowly ever more passionate.

“Are you ready to discover your own body”, I finally mused, looking directly into her eyes, knowing full well that now she could do nothing but comply with what I said and wanted. She smiled, my hands still held her body, which I knew to be pulsing, the effect of our kiss would linger in a body that welcomed and delighted such an act, as if holding it in time as a brief but rewarding trophy.

“I am” she answered between a that could classed as both a whisper and nervous giggle.

© Copyright 2021 cellissa draylor. All rights reserved.


Add Your Comments:




Other Content by cellissa draylor

More Great Reading

Popular Tags