Forbidden Fantasies Excerpt

Forbidden Fantasies Excerpt Forbidden Fantasies Excerpt

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Aracely Nativa is a young woman with a purpose in life. Maintaining a steady GPA at Vanderbilt University as a lit major Aracely's life suddenly changes when a sinister secret, and dark fantasy come to life.

Summary

Aracely Nativa is a young woman with a purpose in life. Maintaining a steady GPA at Vanderbilt University as a lit major Aracely's life suddenly changes when a sinister secret, and dark fantasy come to life.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Forbidden Fantasties Excerpt

Author Chapter Note

Aracely Nativa is a young woman with a purpose in life. Maintaining a steady GPA at Vanderbilt University as a lit major Aracely's life suddenly changes when a sinister secret, and dark fantasy come to life.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 07, 2013

Reads: 592

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: September 07, 2013

A A A

A A A

Let me just start of by telling you that you will probably think I am a delusional, manic-depressive, lunatic by the time you finish my story. The truth, however, is much more sinister than you could ever imagine. My life consisted of what every other normal college student's life consisted of; classes, lectures, tests, and endless hours spent studying in between them. I had few friends, no boyfriend, and what some people would call 'having your shit' together. Or so I thought. I was an English major at Vanderbilt University. In all actuality I was doing very well academically. I maintained an A-B average, and a steady 3.5 GPA. I probably would have continued to do well had it not been for that one fateful October night. As usual I was in my dormitory studying when my roommate came bounding in. She reminded me of a young deer in a meadow when she moved, like a gunshot had been fired into the herd. Suddenly that scene from 'Bambi' popped into my head, and I pictured her actually frantically searching for Mother. Her arms were completely weighted down by several shopping bags as she slammed the door behind her. I could tell the various purchases were from the local Halloween store. 

"Aracely, you have to come with me tonight!" she exclaimed. I immediately cringed. What wild party did she want me to attend now? I thought this to myself, but being the uber-nice girl that I was simply replied, "Where are you going, Michele?"

She dumped the bag onto her bed, and as the contents spilled out I noticed they were various items that would be paired up to create quite the risqué costume. She then began to shuffle through the purchases pulling out different pieces. Turning around in a spin not unlike a pirouette her flaming red locks whirled about her. She held up both of her hands while her face were emblazoned with a very petrifying grin. At least it petrified me. In one hand she held up an extra-short, clingy black dress with a deep cut v-shaped neckline. 

"Here you wear this one. I would so rather be the Catholic schoolgirl zombie," she said tossing the dress towards me. I had been sitting on my bed with my laptop nestled within my lap, sitting in the classic Indian-style. The dress hit me in the face before falling in a limp mass of inky fabric on top of my laptop keyboard. Then she tossed a few more items onto my bed. They were all the needed accessories to turn me into the sex-me-up Vampire Mistress.


"Um, and where will I be wearing this?" I furrowed my eyebrows as my gaze ran over the fishnet tights lying beside me.

"Oh, come on, Ara! Don't tell me you do not know about Brett Mathew's Halloween party! It's legendary here." She pushed out her bottom lip to mock frown at me.

"I don't think I'm interested, Michele. I'm really tired, and I have a term paper to write."

"Aracely, you promised me you would go with me to the next party, and this is it. I even bought you a costume so you would have no excuse. I will help you if you need makeup advice." She seemed to be treating me like a charity case, as if I needed her aid to actually have a social life. In her eyes I must have seemed like a complete hermit who had been sheltered all her life. I wasn't sure if it would be help or a hindrance, and I actually wondered if it had not been a diss. I pursed my lips before answering, "Um, Okay, I guess."

I knew I would regret it more if I didn't go. This way it would be done, and over then she would get off my case at least for a little while. Her excitement shot through the roof like a kid in a candy store. I was suddenly really afraid of whatever I had gotten myself into.

"This will be so much fun, and to top it off your crush will be there!" She winked as she said it.

"My crush?" This was headline news to me. I had no crushes here. The only guy I found somewhat attractive was Michael Somers, and he did not attend our school.

"You know, Michael. You told me you thought he was sweet, remember?"

"Um, yeah, but does sweet qualify as a crush?" I muttered.

"Of course, I have to work with what I can get in your situation." She replied. I wondered what my situation meant to her. Was I going to be her next matchmaker project? I truly hoped not.

"Well go take a shower so we can get started! I need a clean canvas in order to produce my art." Her smile is what allowed this torture to continue, and I was relieved at the invitation because it would at least give me a few minutes away from her. I grabbed a towel, and my underwear, but Michele quickly snatched them out of my hand, "Uh, no panties you have to wear the fishnets. Trust me it will be really uncomfortable." She said.

"Okay." I said the only thing that came to my mind, and then walked into the bathroom. As I turned on the faucet I sat myself atop the toilet, and began to remove my clothes. This was going to be a long night.When the water was warm enough I stepped into the stream. I let my nervousness wash away as the water ran over my body. Maybe this would not be so bad after all. This could be a nice change to throw my inhibitions to the wind. I decided I would not hold back. Tonight I was not Aracely Nativa the collegiate. Tonight I was Aracely, dark vampire temptress.

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"Ara, hurry up!" Michele yelled at the door, "It's seven-thirty, and we've got to be there at nine! I still have to get you ready."

"Okay, Michele, I'm ready hand me the costume." I said as I opened the door. She quickly shoved it into my hands before pushing her way through the doorway. It was fine with me. I was used to such behaviors by her. As it met my grasp I quickly pulled it over my head, and began to shimmy my body into the rest of the tight fitting fabric. Then I began to roll on the pantyhose. To finish it off I had been given a pair of three inch spiked black heels, and it was paired with a black lacy gothic cameo choker. The stilettos would be a slight bit uncomfortable, but Ara could dismiss the thought quickly. A curiosity had overtaken Aracely. In her moment of resistance she dared think, 'How can I judge what I know not of?'

Strangely enough Aracely had a moment of realization, which gave her a cause to simply observe a social function without reserve just once. Some would call this peer pressure. Others call it the naiveté of being young, but either way it were very liberating for Aracely.

"Okay, Michele, I am ready for my makeup." I said standing before her awaiting her approval or not wink. She gave it while saying, "Wow, you have a killer ass if you would sex up your wardrobe a little bit more." I blushed upon hearing this, and not only that I had to admit it really did look nice. The way the dress hugged my curves in all the right places. The sway of my hips, rounding my breasts, and leaving a deep 'v' that exposed the creaminess of my skin.

"Thank you," I said. She needed me to sit down so I walked the short distance to her vanity. She quickly started her tedious work. Lifting strands of my hair to wind about curling rods, and rollers, and even the curling iron. She sculpted the style into a lustrous mane of red curls. Then she began the true project, foundation to my face. On the vanity I spotted a makeup palette with colors appropriate to the smoky eye effect. Finishing her masterpiece off she applied a layer of pale pink lip gloss, and then gave me my fake fangs,

"There. Damn, you look hot." She grinned happy with her own work. I turned to look myself over in the mirror on the opposing wall. She was right. I was a siren. I could not believe it was I. My green eyes popped due to the eyeliner, and fake lashes. I looked like a gothic goddess. I could feel the virginal Aracely fly out the window, and I was kind of happy to let her go.


We arrived at the party a little past nine. Michele being a pro at making herself up looked perfect, in a zombie way. I was a little nervous wondering who she would want to hook me up with, and if they would even recognize me. The first person to greet us was the host, Brett Mathews, 

"Hey, Chely! Who's your friend?" He asked her a little over enthusiastic 

"This is Ara, you've met her before. Don't tell me you don't remember?" Michele replied.

"Ara, Aracely?" He asked. I could already see from his demeanor that he was really shocked at my costume. I couldn't help it, but chuckle a bit,

"Yeah, Brett. Are you going to give me a beer?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, follow me." He replied. I had to admit I was enjoying this reaction, and maybe too much. I was never interested in him before, but following him into the kitchen I noticed he was actually really sexy. He was about six foot one, and had light brown hair. His eyes were hazel, and he had really broad shoulders. Then I noticed his ass. That was an ass any woman would fantasize about. I could see myself squeezing, and digging my nails into that.' Stop it, Ara. What's wrong with you? What happened to no sex until marriage?' I scolded myself it was so unlike me to think that way. A super religious mother, who could never allow her only child to repeat her mistakes by falling for Mr. Chippendale beefcake, had raised me.My thoughts were brought to the present when Brett asked me, "So, Ara, what's your poison?" He smiled at me with a wink. I had never drunk before. I thought frantically of beer names, and finally uttered, "Heineken." I glanced at Michele questioningly.

"Yeah, me too." She said. He pulled two green bottles from the fridge, and as he handed me one he asked, " So, do you dance?" I could feel Michele's eyes boring into me, but I actually wanted to dance with him. I didn't even hesitate to open the beer, and immediately took his hand. He smiled with a nod, and led me out onto the dance floor. I heard the deejay announce it was a band I had never heard of before called Obaxia, "I love this band!" He screamed, "What?" I asked, "I said I love this band, Obaxia." I nodded, and cracked a half smile, "Oh, yeah they're good. Obaxia?" I asked intrigued by the name, "Yeah, Obaxia. It took some stunts to get them here." He held me close to him. It wasn't really appropriate for the music, but I didn't mind it because it felt really good to finally be in close proximity to someone else. I didn't move away, and I could feel his breath on my neck. In a whisper he spoke into my ear, "You want to go upstairs with me?" My sense betrayed me, and in a normal mind I would have ran away, but something in me hungered for him. Lusting for the chance to run my tongue down his body. My fingers sliding along his chest, "Yes." I muttered. He lowered his left hand to grasp my right, and lead me off the dance floor towards the stairs leading to his room. His house was massive. I was shocked it was a 3-story, and it even had an elevator, "What do your parents do?" I asked. He grinned as if he had anticipated my question, "Dad's a lawyer, and my mother is a doctor. A psychologist actually." He responded. He continued to lead me down the long hall past two bathrooms, and three bedrooms till we came to the very end then he stopped, "This is my room." He said pulling out a key, and unlocking the door. He quickly flipped a switch to illuminate the chamber, and that was certainly what it appeared to be. He had a massive king-size bed accompanied by black and navy blue satin sheets. It was a beautiful room. I felt like a princess in a fairy tale. If I was going to lose my virginity this was the perfect place for it! I sat on the edge of his bed, and looked up at him while he locked the door. He was handsome like a Greek god, so beautiful, and horny. I could smell his lust. It was a strong masculine scent like woods, and pine mixed with ocean breeze. Yet, under the surface I smelt carnality. It reminded me of the scent of blood boiling as it hit my nostrils in a heated wave of air. Desire poured forth from his every pore, and even in my innocence I could not deny it. This ancient beast before me, which resided in the core of every true man meant to own my entire form. It propelled me to act. I wanted to feel his hands upon my body, running every inch with the tips of his fingers. Like silken feathers barely caressing my nude skin. Where were all these vivid pictures coming from? Why was I suddenly so quick to accept that I was undeniably female in this situation, and why did I crave the attention that came along with it? He suddenly advanced, and pushed me slowly back against the mattress sliding his right hand up the inner flesh of my left thigh. He leant in, and kissed me hard his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth with a fiery intensity. It was the most exotic thing I had ever experienced. He shifted his hand slightly to gently push the dress up, and then lowering his lips he began to kiss his way down my taut stomach. I could feel the warm trickle of fluid start to drip between my thighs. With a swift movement he ripped my nylons completely off, and quickly shoved my legs apart before sliding one long finger deep inside. I writhed with both pleasure, and pain, "Mm," I moaned which only served to heighten his need. Stripping the rest of my clothing off my body he grabbed a jar from the nightstand beside the bed, and pulled out a brightly colored neon package, which appeared to be a condom. He no longer held control of himself. He wanted me, and he was going to have me. There was no escaping it. He shifted his body to place the condom in appropriate positioning before He quickly plunged the length of his throbbing shaft deep inside my aching warmth. I screamed in anguish as my maidenhead ripped apart in one sudden thrust, but as he moved within me the pain resided slowly working itself into a rhythm that I could just not get enough of, "You like that, don't you? You whore. Yeah, I knew you were a slut." He said, slamming his body into mine harder, and harder with each pounding movement. His words stung, and hurt, but as he started to come more to life so did I. A strange sensation began to burn within the root of my gums, and I suddenly had the strong urge to bite him. Yes I wanted to bite him, and sink my teeth completely into the veins of his protruding muscly neck. A power surged within my blood; I felt fire in my veins. My heart felt as if it were going to beat right out of my chest, and suddenly he lowered his eyes to peer into mine, "What the fuck?" he gasped, "Your eyes, what the hell is wrong with them?" but that was the very last thing Bret Mathews ever said, or even heard. 
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The following morning I found myself awoken by the television in our room playing a special report about a murder of a local football player," The body of young Bret Mathews, the star quarterback of the Vanderbilt Commodores, was found early this morning. His mother just returning from a recent convention found her son deceased in his room. At this time the police have no evidence of foul play, and are suspecting alcohol poisoning to be the cause of death. If you have any further information about this case please contact the local authorities." The newscaster stated in her unchanging neutral tone, "I don't get it, Ara. He didn't do any drugs with you, did he?" Chely asked me.
"No, but I left early remember?" I replied quietly.
"Yeah, I know, but they said someone saw him go upstairs with a girl. It should have been you, Araceli." She scolded.
"Look, Chely I don't randomly screw people like you do, okay?" I retorted, "You should really stop being such a whore. You're giving yourself a bad rep." I finished. She just continued to stare at me; her facial expression was that of pure surprise like a young doe caught in the headlights with nowhere to go, but across the highway risking her life in the process. After what seemed like an eternity of minutes had passed she finally spoke up in a very soft, and low voice, " I am sorry you feel that way; I didn't realize you thought that about me." She quieted. She must've been really shocked at me because had I been anyone else she would have immediately cussed me out in every way possible. I felt really bad suddenly, "Chely, I'm sorry; I just don't like it when you ride my ass about hooking up with guys. I'm just a little bit more conservative. I shouldn't have called you that. I really don't think you are a whore." I didn't know what had come over me lately. I was really beginning to wonder what happened at the party. I did dance with Bret, and I remembered hi suggesting that we go up to his room, but as far as I knew we never did. It was so weird like my whole memory had been wiped clean from the moment we stepped off the dance floor. I really didn't think I had drank that much. The next day I didn't have a hangover; and now Bret was dead from what appeared to be alcohol poisoning, or an overdose? Michele didn't say anything she just picked up her book bag, and walked out the door, "No, Ara you are right. I am a whore, but at least I am not the prude who is too afraid of taking control of her sexuality she hides in her dormitory twenty-four seven." She said before slamming the door shut. I guess I should have been offended, but how could I be? She was right; I was afraid of sex. I was afraid of anything that had anything to remotely do with sex. My mother had raised me to be scared of anything sexual at all. I remembered her talking my father, and how the 'sins of the flesh' would cause me the same horrible, and destructive problems for me that they had for her. I never met my father. I didn't know anything about him. His last name was Daemonicus, Martine Daemonicus. That was the only thing that I had ever known about him. There were no pictures of him. Nothing except a name, and my mother's descriptions of temptation born into flesh, "He had black hair like obsidian, and his eyes; Oh, Ara, his eyes were so gorgeous like yours; except his were a lighter shade of blue. Like ice blue, and they sent shivers down my spine. He reminded me of a Egyptian god with perfect golden toned skin." She always got a distant, and strange look upon her face when she had described him to me. It was almost as if she were afraid, but yet drawn at the same time. Even after years of not seeing him his memory were enough to flood my mother's mind, and heart with emotions I could never fully understand. I really did not comprehend any of it; why had my father left my mother pregnant? She told me that he only came to see her twice in all the time she had dated him. Twice they had shared a bed together. How could two sexual experiences shape my mother into an anti-social religious paranoid? She talked to me about it like it was the most erotic, orgasmic event of her life. What could have come about so bad from that? Still she succeeded in scaring the hell out of me, no correction, scaring the fuck out of me. I had been cursed to be a virgin for the rest of my life. I thought that coming to Vandy might give me the shove I needed to try new experiences away from my deep-rooted super-religious Alabaman roots. I went to one single party, and did not even stay for more than an hour. The funny thing about this was I was bleeding, and I had just gotten off my period a week, and half ago. So what was wrong with me? Did Bret rape me? Is that why he died overdosing the same drug he laced my drink with? What was going on with me? I hoped I would figure it out before I lost all of my friends, or worse my sanity.
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I awoke in a blood sweat, my nightmares plaguing me again. This was a new one though. Another of Lilith's bitches to slay, "Damn it," I yelled. Every time I succeeded in laying one down another one popped up in her place. How the fuck did she do it? She had not metamorphosed into an incubus in years, and not many of her she-bitches possessed the power to do so themselves. Only Cybele, and Leonora did that I was aware of. Lil never did like allowing them to do it often; so who was the father of the new one? She was powerful; I felt it in the dream. Newly birthed into her powers, but very strong already." Well, Ms. Tempt You to Fuck Me to Your Death, I guess you have a new enemy." I thought. I stood up, and pushed myself out of the bed watching the young woman asleep within it taking care not to wake her from her peaceful slumber. I lightly brushed the backside of my right palm against her silken cheek erasing her memory of me completely in the process. From our chance meeting in the bar to the tryst of passion we had just completed. She would recall nothing. The petite, ethereal angel slept peacefully as I walked away. I knew she would be fine. She may awake with a headache, but other than that she would be perfectly normal in a matter of hours. I pulled my dark hair back into a ponytail and grabbed my shirt off a nearby wooden chair. I hated myself more, and more for having to do this. Why the hell did I have to do this? I didn't want to do it anymore. I was so tired; vampires are not all they are made out to be. I was lonely, and cursed to remain that way forever. My only salvation was the hunting of the Succubi until every last one of them was dead, 'Damn you, Lilith!" I roared at her more, and more everyday. Ever since the day my beautiful wife had changed, my precious, Angelina, who was the daughter of Lilith, my virginal wife whom I was forced to murder on our wedding night. The night she was to become a demon. We had made love as any husband does on his honeymoon. I was gentle, and sweet with her. I wanted it to be the perfect experience for my delicate flower. Never wanting to hurt her or inflict any pain upon her. I stroked her cheek gently, and tenderly. I remember that night just like it was the fortnight before. That was the night I became the monster I am now, a vampire. Her loss of virginity triggered the change. I had seen it in her eyes as they turned to black stone within the pits of her skull, as the length of her canine teeth slipped from her full, pouting lips. I had just enough time to grab my sword, and plunge it deep in the heart of my beloved just as she had bitten into my left shoulder. It was excruciatingly painful. My beautiful Angelina immediately slumped over the blade, and rolled off the edge of the bed to the floor. I screamed in agony, roaring at the gods, "How could you do this to me? I demand that you show yourself!" Therein lie my mistake for she did appear, the demon goddess, Lilith surrounded by a cloud of wispy grey smoke which smelt putrid, and dank like sulfuric acid. "Be careful who you demand, insolent one!" she seethed at me, "You killed my daughter, and now you will pay for it." Her voice was like an echoing that vibrated from the four corners, but yet in no particular pattern at all. It filled the entirety of the room, "Your daughter? This is Angelina Santorini, Lord Byron and Lady Vivicia Santorini's daughter!" I raged in anger. "Wrong! She is my daughter. You worm, bow down before your Mistress." She laughed maniacally. "My mistress? Who are you?" I screamed louder this time. "I am whomever I choose to be. I am Angelina's father, her mother, and also your fertility goddess. "She introduced herself with a flair of nobility as if she were a royal deity rather than a demon monster. "Lilith, " I murmured. She grinned from ear to ear as I said her name, "Yes, that is right, Baith. Angelina was my daughter, and seeing as how you took her from me you will be my slave." Her words escaped her lips in a venomous hiss. "I will never be your slave, whore demon!" I said.
"Yes, you will." She moved across the space between us between the flicker of a blink the only thing I could identify were her eyes flashing between their former piercing blue, and fiery red. Lifting her wrist she bit into it with her fangs, and forced my lips open, "Drink it you animal! Feel it as it burns you from the inside out, and know that you are cursed to be my minion forever!" I tried to fight back, but I knew it was useless, "I will never be your incubus!" I raged violently now, bucking, and kicking with every fiber of my body. "Ha-ha, darling you do not realize that I am incubi, and Succubi we are one and the same. I can choose to be female, or male depending upon my mood, but to be a mother I must be a male that is how I am Angelina's father. You, on the other hand shall be my slave, to live off humanity, bleeding them all, and killing them. Serving my every whim as a vampire." She smirked. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon with long blonde hair, and crisp blue eyes, or red, or black if she chose. In her Succubi form she was every man's fantasy woman, but truthfully she was a demon goddess. Adam's first wife who refused to be obedient, and submissive whom was cast out of the Garden of Eden, and cursed to be a succubus; a demon that preys off a man's desire for flesh, and lust for sexual gratification. She could not reproduce more Succubi by natural means so she would seduce men to steal their sperm later turning her into an Incubus to seduce women in their dreams, and therefore impregnating them. In truth her children were cambions; Angie was a cambion. Had my wife been born a man she never would have changed. Never would she have come into her demonic powers. A cambion cannot come into Succubi power until she loses her virginity at which time she would feed off her victims, and gain another soul to burn for her mother, Lilith. It was upon this realization that I had cursed myself. "I will never be your minion! I will hunt down every last one of your harlots, and slay her. Mark my words, Lilith, you will pay for this!" I growled viciously. "You insolent fool! You think you can beat me? Ha, my daughters will seduce you into bed faster than you can get it up! Would you dare defy me? Try your damnedest, Baith, but remember you killed my daughter! My Angelina, had you truly loved her you would have died for her!" and that was the last thing she said before a flash of lightning blazed within the room, and she disappeared right before my very eyes. She was right I did kill my Angie, my poor innocent Angelina, but I kept my word slaying Lil's daughters for over two thousand years, and now there was another; another bitch demon to find, and annihilate. Oh, and find her I would so that I could enjoy every minute of my vengeance being extracted upon her. It was only a matter of time.
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It had been four days since Bret died, and I had not once began to feel better. I had lost almost all memory of what had happened. Michele was still pissed off at me, and I was starting to feel overly horny something that I didn't really know how to take care of. I decided I would go to Graham Central Station, and dance. Maybe that would help me to loosen up a little bit. I went to my closet, and started to pull out a pair of jeans, and a sequined tank top. I hesitated when I seen a short, red V-neck halter-top, and a pair of black daisy duke shorts. They were Michele's shorts, of course, but I thought she would never notice that they were gone since she had went to stay over with a friend for the night. I shimmied them on, and slipped on an air of black open-toed high-heels. The shirt fit snuggly across my breast since Michele's were a bit smaller than mine, but it still looked really cute. It had a split that showed your belly button, which I thought, would have looked really sexy if you had a belly button piercing. I wore my hair down, and applied just enough eyeliner, and dark red lip-gloss. With one final glimpse in the mirror I grabbed my purse, and slammed the door.
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It was a quick trip across town to Graham Central Station, and I was inside on the roof within thirty minutes of leaving my dormitory. That's when I saw him, Michael, innocent, sweet Michael, virginal Michael Yummy, he will be perfect a great slave for your sisters. It was a distant female voice, sensual and delicious. I turned around, but there was no one there except two male bouncers walking the bar. Unless one of them was a transgender I couldn't see how they could have such a soft, feminine voice. I bent my neck to the side, and walked over to him.
"Hello, Michael. How are you tonight?" I asked, bending over so he could get a perfect shot at my cleavage. I ran my finger over my chest, and up to my mouth where I rested my chin on my hand, "Are you going to offer me a drink sweetie or do I have to get it myself?" I asked. He stuttered at first, "I, umm, yeah, uh what are you having?" He asked shyly.
"You, if you will let me, " It came out in a purr.
"Umm, I." He didn't say anything else. He just stood up, and grabbed my hand, and I lead him to the back of the bar. I found a dark secluded spot, and pulled him down beside me kissing his soft full lips passionately. A fire consumed me as I kissed him running my hands down his stomach, "I know you want to take me home, baby." I whispered into his ear, "I want you to touch me in all those secret places, Michael." It was like a whisper against his neck. He looked at me absolutely spellbound, a distant lust in his blue eyes. We walked toward the door arm in arm completely oblivious to everyone else in the room. Until I saw those piercings eyes in the dark, they immediately scared me, and I froze in place. The man approached me with a grin upon his perfectly handsome face. He spoke to me in a completely foreign tongue similar to Latin, "Release him, bitch or be prepared to meet your maker. "He said. "Get away from me!" I screamed," You don't know who you are fucking with! She needs this one, and will have him. " I glared at him daringly.
"On the contrary, it is you who does not know who you are dealing with. I have come here to kill you." He chuckled with a shake of the head.
"Who are you to defy her wishes, and get in her way?" I questioned him.
"I am Baith, Baith Vel'Fix, but to you I am the Grim Reaper." He slapped me to the ground and Michael immediately ran out of the room. Baith's eyes burned ice blue then fiery red, "Fight me, bitch, "He said. My nails grew, and fangs lengthened. "I should not have to fight you! You can be quite easily dispatched," I growled. We circled each other for a moment before I pounced upon him, and he crashed to the ground. "Get off me you whore, " He roared, "Oh, but your rough outer shell is not so sure that you want me to." I whispered against his cheek, feeling his erection hard against my thigh, "In fact I think you would like me in another position altogether," I grazed my nail across his cheek drawing blood. Then I bit his shoulder, and sank my fangs into him. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, thick and warm I guzzled it down as he fought to get me off of him. I reached down, and clawed his sac with my nails, "Mm," He growled through clenched teeth trying with all his might to resist temptation of lust rising in his veins. I let go of his balls, and pulled a ribbon off the wall securing his hands, " Now, Baith, I hope that this will be a lesson for you not to fuck with me, at least not in a violent sense." I smirked, and walked away leaving him bound to the chair he had sat on. There he was left to wallow in his sorrow, and pain. Had I known then what I would learn later I would have never done it, on the contrary I would have asked him how he cold cure of a legacy I never wanted anything to do with.
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