Thirst of a newborn vampire +18

Standard disclaimer applies: this story contains fictional depictions of erotic and vulgar scenarios, so if it's immoral for you to be reading it, please avoid it! All characters are at least eighteen, all situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life situations is entirely coincidental.

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—Lucius

She was shaved bare, without the tuft of hair that would have decorated the triangle between her legs, that would have hidden her s*x from my gaze. No, she was perfectly hairless, even there. And I couldn't find the anger to wonder who this bitch was, that she would walk into my tent and command me this way. As soon as my thoughts would manage to turn to anything rebellious, anything at all, a fog oppressed me so that my body was obeying the next command without considering.

I pressed my lips to that perfectly hairless s*x and sucked, moaning. She tasted delicious, spicy and wicked. It turned out that this was part of her glamour, but I didn't know that then, so I sucked her cream from her and sighed with my own pleasure. Serving another had never been my thing. I was a violent, dominating creature by nature and, evidently, my lack of practice showed.

Astarte lifted me with a cruel, clawed hand in my hair and she slapped my face, the nails of her other hand leaving bloody scratches across my cheek, making me blink with shock. "Look into my eyes, lion."

I had to obey and fell even deeper into that terrible fog. "Yes, Mistress?" The words left my lips without my even thinking of them, so complete was her Compulsion hold on my weaker human mind. As it turned out, she had tons of control over me, due to the sheer amount of wrath I had displayed on the battlefield. It was the thing that had damned me. Her magical hold was in direct correlation to my transgressions, and apparently, they were legion.

"That's a pathetic effort. You are a warrior male of age and I want you to spend this night pleasing me. You are to eat me with the hunger and fervor you displayed on the battlefield." And then she pressed her palm to my forehead and I felt...

There was nothing like it. No worldly pain felt like what she suddenly did, whatever it was. It was an endless abyss of agony with no source for me to stop it. It was soul crushing despair with no hope for the light of day. When it ended, it felt like it had lasted eternity and I stared at her in horror, my mouth open, though I had not managed to utter a sound. Sweat coated my body and she smiled at me with a sickening form of pleasure. "If you don't please me, little lion, I will make you suffer until you do."

I dove into her, sucking, thrusting my tongue like I had never done before. I used my hands, both of them, desperate to avoid that horrible agony, that abyss of misery. I couldn't think beyond the fog of her Compulsion, couldn't do anything except suck like my life depended on it.

"Good boy." Those words soothed over my sweat sleeked skin and I felt immense relief at the very sound of them. "Oh!" She came with a soft cry on my tongue and I lapped it up.

For the first time since her torture I spoke, and it was to give her a compliment that I hoped might please her, hoped would help me to avoid the hell she threatened me with. "You taste amazing, Mistress."

She chuckled and stroked my hair. "Good little lion. But I didn't tell you to stop eating it. You don't want more punishment, do you?"

I didn't. I dove back into eating her.

The night faded into a memory that I would forever hate. There was nothing but cowardly fear, obedience, and frantic s*xual service from me. When she finally decided she wanted to feel my s*x, she smiled wickedly and gave me a new command. "No orgasms for you, little lion. I think I like you desperate and afraid for the moment." I whimpered and it was terrible. Her commands forced me to perform with the roughest, most delicious s*x I had ever experienced. I should have orgasmed five times by the end of the night and, instead, all that happened was my blood burned hotter and my teeth snapped with frenzied need. I was trapped in that hard state right before orgasm, so hard that it was agony. I grabbed her by her hair and scratched her and didn't even notice how the wounds I left on her flesh instantly healed. I was rougher with her than I had ever been with anyone and she cooed at me with every thrust, laughing at my torment.

"Poor little lion." But the words were said with a smile every time she said them, a lecherously sadistic smile. She had me f*ck her in the position of animals, had me lay down while she turned around and rode me. And that one was a different kind of torture, because she held her asscheeks apart and told me to stare at her asshole, to imagine the pleasure of eating it. She made me beg her for the privilege of getting to worship that hole, in those words.

It was the middle of the night when she finally sighed with a little bit of melancholy. "Well, I did enjoy getting to use you as a human toy. It's too bad that it's going to end, but you'll make a very delightful fledgling. The Compulsion is going to make you a fun one." And then she grinned and her voice came out a dangerous purr and I couldn't even focus on her words. "And you will be able to sustain far more damage. I shall enjoy getting to cut you open and seeing the torment you can scream from. Come to me, little lion, so we can be buried before the sun comes up to threaten us."

Once again, in a fog, I obeyed and walked to her Dark Embrace. Astarte smiled up at me and pulled my head down so that she could press her lips to the hollow of my throat. I felt a sharp pain of twin punctures.

Dying was strange. I wish I could say it was a memorable, or even noticeable, event. It wasn't, at least for me, but that might be because it was not so very different from the fog of Compulsion. Her commands already left me dead in my mind and forced me to obey. Actual death was just one step away from that and the gray film covered my eyes while my body disappeared, as if from a great distance.

But then, instead of waking to a new afterlife, there was a different sensation to wake me from the dark slumber. It started as a scent, something that was sweeter than anything on earth. It smelled like the purity of water when one is near death in the desert. It tasted like the nectar of the gods when one has paid the dearest price for eternal life.

Astarte's blood flooded my mouth and the sensation of my body slammed back to my awareness. I lifted to that taste and drank it while my cruel, terrible Mistress of the dark cooed over me with such depraved laughter. I would only remember one sentence she said.

"Take of your eternal punishment, little lion, and bask in the glorious pain of the insatiable sins that will never cease their cries for more."

And then there was nothing but terrible hunger.

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