by Lana Fox
He nodded. “You’ve never known the ecstasy that you’ll feel if you submit to me. But you must want me sexually until the end of time.”
I’d heard of what happened to those who submitted to vampires. Rumor was, you’d live your life with only one desire: to be taken by the master, to be bitten and fucked, to be under their control in every way. Your blood would seal the pact, which would mean you’d be magically driven—physically and emotionally—to serve that vampire forever. Your mind would no longer be entirely your own.
It was hot, and I’d fantasized about it. Climaxed to it. Yearned for it. But even in my current desperation, I was afraid to give up my life like that.
“I’m your sister!” I cried. “We can’t fuck forever.”
He rose to his feet. “Human rules are feeble.”
“I just need more pleasure,” I gasped. “Just make me come again!” Oh, I pleaded, I yearned, I pulled off my T-shirt, rubbed my breasts like a porn performer—anything to make him stay. He watched with predatory eyes as I ravished my hard nipples, and I felt his stare as pure pleasure on my skin. But in the end he just stepped towards the door.
I didn’t have the power. He did.
Before he left, he turned to me, the room glowing with his light. “Your parents will have slept through the noise of our fucking,” he said.
“Your parents?” I said, amazed. The word came as a shock. Why did Darren no longer see them as his parents too?
“This isn’t just about blood,” he said. “It’s about power.”
“Take me with you!” I said, climbing to my feet. “Take me away and fuck me!” “I can only own you, Helene, if you desire me fully.”
“I do!” I cried.
He said, “You reek of denial.”
I fell to the floor, crawled towards him like a dog, begging to be released from this longing. My pussy was so thirsty that juices were trickling down my thighs as I went, but I didn’t care. I was hungry for more of the pleasure I’d just had.
“You’re still bleeding,” he said.
I paused on the rug beneath my knees and reached for my throat. When I touched myself there and felt the warm blood, a ripple of ecstasy plundered my core—a taste of the orgasmic heat that had just consumed me. I whimpered with joy to feel it, climax threatening my cunt again.
“Lower your hand,” said Darren.
I did so automatically. My fingers came away bloody.
A dark smile curled on his lips. “By the time you wake tomorrow,” he said, pulling the door wide, “your wound will have healed, but you’ll still feel me in it.”
“Fuck me,” I begged him. “Drink me. Please.”
But he was already gone.
Darren
My sister’s blood, our orgasmic glut, the taste of her body inside my mouth had all consumed my senses. She was everywhere now, in my veins, on my skin, her mouth yielding incessantly to mine. That skin so soft. Those breasts so full. The hardness of those nipples beneath her top. But though my desire for her flooded my every cell, I couldn’t let it control me. I was in control now. The vampire-me.
Since I’d become a vampire, I knew the story of human control. It was burned into my mind like an ember, as if the vampire who sired me had branded it onto my veins. When a human longed to serve a vampire with their whole body and mind, that vampire, if they accepted, would own and control them forever. Helene would have to choose to surrender her life to me in every way. Once she’d submitted to me, she’d never long for freedom. The pact would be magically sealed and she’d serve me forever more.
Upon leaving my the place I used to call home, having fed on Helene, her blood was still humming inside me, along with the earth-shaking climax I’d felt. But my instincts told me to stay in control rather than let my desire for her drive me. Nonetheless, I was determined to make her mine. I had to have her, my Helene, the beautiful sister, the perfect woman. That sweet skin! Those innocent lips! The blood that tasted so rich that it made my cock harder than I’d ever known! Once mine, she would serve me erotically—and in any way I pleased—and in return she’d receive the most orgasmic frenzies a human could ever know. I would control her entirely. Sexually, emotionally. I’d bury my cock in her time and again, releasing cascades of climactic screams. Both of us would be owned by the power coursing between us.
My cock was hankering for her, even now.
The trap was sprung, the seed was planted. I’d visit my sister again and give her an even greater taste of bliss—and then she’d so ache to belong to me that she’d give herself over with genuine fervor. That’s what was needed by her blood to seal the pact. Her passion. Her thirst. Her carnal desperation.
The fact I could control Helene if she submitted completely wasn’t the only knowledge printed on my blood. I’d barely spoken to my sire and knew no other vampires, but even so, I knew the sacred rules. Vampires could control humans. Nature could control vampires. Scent was psychic energy. And blood was the key to life.
What I didn’t know was the truth about Helene.
If I had, I’d have stayed away.
2.
Darren
Glut. Frenzy. Darkness.
After biting Helene, I’d planned to seduce strangers who reminded me of her. Now I’d had a taste of her blood, I longed to see if others could taste as good. But while I walked the back streets of Lavender City, I smelled my Sire and felt compelled to follow her scent. Later, I’d discover that she’d used her scent to summon me, knowing I wouldn’t resist.
I found her in a deserted house on Stoke Street, which still contained evidence of fire. The stink of burning was everywhere, though the delectable scent of my Sire cut through it. The furniture in the front room was mostly collapsed into black, charred pieces, and the walls were streaked with black and brown, the floors a mix of burned wood and charcoal.
At the center of the room, she was draped across a red velvet couch that looked out of the place amongst all the char-streaked wood. Wine crates had been arranged around her, with lit pillar candles set out in clusters on top them. The light danced across her glowing skin as her grey eyes drank me in. She said her name was Evelyn. She glowed like an angel. Her skin was luminous, her hair silver blonde, her lips painted a metallic shade of pink. She wore a long black dress with a split up the side, and her stocking top was clear as was the strap that held it in place. Beholding her, I felt a rush of arousal and gratitude—she had changed me, brought me darkness, sucked the soul of out me and replaced it with decadence. I moaned with fervor. My cock grew hard, seeking to ravish her in return. My fangs strengthened, growing inside my mouth.
I was ready to pleasure her.
But I had questions too.
“There you are, boy. Come here,” she said languorously, letting one arm drop lazily so her knuckles were stroking the floor. “I want to be drained and fucked, fucked and drained.” She slid her knees apart, revealing more of her stocking and the toned thigh beneath it. She waited as I watched her, my stare drinking her in, and laughed a hard cackle. My thrall, it seemed, didn’t work so well on her. “Well, come on Hellchild! My cunt’s dripping with readiness.”
“Why did you change me?” I asked as I walked towards her. “Why make me a vampire?”
“Your energy throbbed with arousal,” she said, turning her eyes away. “I knew as a vampire you’d be powerfully sexual. I wanted you to fuck me.”
“You found me attractive?”
“You were burgeoning and ready.” She laughed and added, “I liked your accent too. Britain has a taste of the evil about it.”
I didn’t quite believe her, but saw no reason for her to lie. Besides, she’d told me to serve her and I was thirsty to oblige. As with Helene the night before, I felt no trepidation. In human terms I was a virgin, but in vampire terms I was tainted to the soul, and any vulnerability seeped away as if my mind knew weakness would destroy me. I tried to seduce her with my thrall, using my eyes to press pl
easure into her skin just as I’d done with Helene, but Evelyn snapped my stare away with her fingers. It had no power then. “I want flesh,” she said, eyeing my groin hungrily, “not thrall.”
So I took Evelyn on that couch, stripping her when she told me to, biting her perfect ivory skin wherever I could. But in my mind’s eye, she was Helene, mewing, gasping, trembling with longing. I drank from her neck, from the valley of Evelyn’s cleavage, from each full breast, and the cleft where the thigh met the sex—only I pictured Helene’s flesh, Helene’s breasts, Helene’s sex. I fucked Helene and lost my mind to pleasure. The blood tasted so sweet and warm cascading down my throat, but it tasted of nothing compared to Helene’s. Still, the orgasms shook me, spreading through my body again and again like a wall of abandon. I snarled in ecstasy, blood flowing across my tongue. Evelyn writhed, urging me onwards, her eyes all fire as I devoured. Her scent was magnificent: aromatic like dry wine—but it was nothing on the innocent, honeyed scent of my sister.
Once she was naked, I took Evelyn, her body draped over the arm of the couch as I fucked her wet cunt with my desperate cock, lunging and lunging again and again, coming in great swathes like no human has ever experienced, bellowing into the atmosphere, my flesh palpitating with ecstasy. She was Helene, I told myself. I was fucking Helene. My cock was in my sister’s cunt where it had always longed to be, and the blood that ran from Evelyn’s neck down her left shoulder blade was Helene’s blood. Yes, I could taste it in my mouth.
Evelyn and I fucked like that, over and over. She drank from my own flesh as I did from hers, until our bodies were a mess of blood and semen. To see a breast, so perfectly domed, the flesh so flawless, the nipple so pink, as a trail of blood flows slowly over it—blood you released, blood you’ve drunk—and to lick it off greedily as your cock rams into that cunt and she roars out climax after climax…there’s nothing so sensuous.
I was fucking Helene.
Fucking my sister.
Fucking her wet cunt, her bloodstained mouth.
The climaxes were as powerful as full-blown storms charging across an angry sea. We yelled and bellowed and screamed. And I knew that in her dreams Helene was jealous—she could sense me now without realizing it, could feel my sexual feast, would hunger after it carnally until she could be sated. Surely she’d soon give herself, body and soul, to something more marvelous than she’d ever imagined: The darkness of vampire. The depths of blood. The glorious howl of the orgasmic wolf.
Fearless, I cried Helene’s name into the air and Evelyn’s cruel laugh was only stoppered by her climactic moans. These rolled into her undulating body, making the rivulets of blood rush faster down her skin. She didn’t care that I screwed her dreaming she was someone else.
There was actually a reason for this, though I didn’t know it then.
Evelyn cried out as I fucked her, her grey eyes opening wide with abandon. She cried out, splaying her arms, demanding I bite her as she howled her release. A few candles died around her as she came, as if cowering in the shadow of her ecstasy. Even after her collapse, as the bliss fell from her eyes, she still writhed hungrily, taunting me for more. “Again!” she snarled through her teeth. “Move that cock, Hellchild! Ram it in this cunt and fuck me hard.”
Helene
The morning after Darren had bitten me, I told my mother he’d been vamped. You should have seen her sitting on the kitchen worktop in her trainers and exercise gear, her cereal bowl poised in one hand and her spoon frozen mid-air in the other. Her eyes filled with horror, her jaw dropped, and the usual rosy tinge in her cheeks soon disappeared. The local weather forecast was playing on the radio explaining Lavender City was expecting rain. Just as Mum managed, “Helene, if this is a joke…” raindrops pattered at the window pane. “Darren? A vampire?”
At the word “vampire” my body flooded with longing, my mouth watering, my cunt blazing for my brother.
As I was telling Mum that Darren had visited last night to say a last goodbye, all I could feel was the arousal between my thighs and the yearning deep inside, clawing at me. I pressed my fingers to my neck where my brother had bitten me and though the wound had healed just as he’d said, the pressure of my touch released a delicious sensation. It began there and crept down my body, hardening my nipples, burning in my clit. I moaned quietly as Mum stared into her cereal—she must have thought I was moaning because we’d lost Darren, when really I was on fire for him, desperate for more.
“Well,” sighed Mum, jabbing her cereal with her spoon. “This is a fine state of affairs. Your brother, a vampire.” She looked sulky now, as if the grief was fading, as if Darren’s loss in human terms was just an extra chore.
This lack of grief wasn’t Mum’s fault, of course. The magic of the vampires of Lavender City was keeping us numb, as usual, though I knew nothing of it back then. This was a clever trick—one to keep us all in Lavender, rather than letting our grief or fear chase us away. Why leave, after all, if you think you’ve lost no one and you haven’t the energy to look up the death rate? Thanks to the vampires, we were part of their All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet—and that’s exactly how they wanted to keep it. Usually I’d have fallen prey to this magic too, losing my memories of Darren and my grief for him as swiftly as Mum was losing hers. But this time, the magic didn’t work on me, which is why Mum’s reaction seemed so strange. I was hungry, desperate for more of my vampire brother, and that made me more alive somehow. I could feel things more keenly than ever.
Now, though I was already late for work, I was now viciously horny again. Leaving Mum blankly staring into her cereal, I raced up to my bedroom and fucked myself on my bed, plunging my fingers up my pussy, moaning, writhing, remembering Darren’s teeth on my neck, his stare caressing my body, his energy wrapping me up in a million dark sensations. My poster of Jamie Dornan blurred on the wall as orgasm swallowed me for a fiery moment, blotting out all but Darren. How could I go back to the stupid crushes of yesterday? How could I return to a life without true rapture? To be bitten, invaded, taken as you’ve always longed to be taken even though you didn’t know it—that was everything right now. I ached for my brother, for the darkness inside, for the blood lust running between us. I ached to be owned and filled with climax. To be his vessel, his everything.
The whole day, frankly, was a waste. At the museum store where I worked, I was a wreck. Whenever my hair brushed against the place where I’d been bitten, I became so aroused that I needed to come right then. My knickers would flood, my nipples would harden, and I’d find it hard not to salivate or groan. I’d have to head for the staff bathroom where, locked in a cubicle, I’d fuck myself like a lunatic. In the end I had to tie my hair away from the scar just to prevent too much arousal.
The male customers—and some of the female ones too—seemed to guess what I wanted, and flirted with me outrageously. One man, a tall dark-skinned stud, dusted his fingers down my inner wrist as I rolled up his Picasso print. I fell forward over the cash desk, desperate to be fucked, and because my hair’s so silky and heavy the hairband loosened, releasing some strands. Those strands stroked the invisible scar on my neck and I gasped out with desperation, reaching out towards the customer as if he was Darren. “Bite me!” I cried. “Oh fuck, bite me, take me….” I panted for him, reaching towards him, and he gave me a smoldering smile, as if he understood my profoundly carnal body.
“Happy to,” he said quietly, his face close to mine, his eyes shining with the promise of lust. “Take my number and we’ll fuck. I’ll give you everything you want, then make you beg for more.”
My boss Jess who’d been eyeing me suspiciously all morning was standing right behind him, arms crossed in front of her wiry body. “Helene,” she said, in her prickliest voice, her blue eyes blazing with anger, “I’ll take this sale. You wait for me in the office.”
I did as she asked, but once I was sitting in front of her desk, I had to ease the lust that was surging inside me. I rubbed one out quickly, my hand up my sk
irt, my cries filling the office. Oh God, the climax was nothing—just a flutter compared to the ecstasy Darren could give.
I collapsed in post-orgasmic exhaustion, my hand still up my skirt. At that moment, Jess walked in and fired me.
I knew my parents would kill me for being sacked, so I decided not to go home straight away. This, of course, was a pathetic excuse. My body was agonized by sexual hunger and until I could sate these carnal needs I couldn’t think about anyone but Darren.
Fortunately, I’m sexy, especially when I’m turned on, and it was all too easy to get some male interest. I picked up one man in a cafeteria while he was on his lunch break. In the cafeteria bathroom, he sat on the closed toilet lid while I rode his cock like a beast, dreaming it was Darren’s cock, dreaming he was biting me, dreaming he was filling me with his deep, controlling stare.
“Fuck the cock!” cried the man I was screwing, his teeth borne as I lunged my hips. “Fuck the cock! Fuck it!”
And God, I did. I fucked like crazy, like only animals do, taking his big dick as far inside me as I could. “Drain me!” I cried. “Darren, drink my blood, hold my body captive, and hammer that big cock into me.”
In answer, my lover told me his name was actually David, not Darren, and knife play wasn’t really his thing. “But do anything you like with my monster cock,” he groaned, one hand plastered over my breast. “Fuck, I wanna come all over your tits,” he added, “they’re so fucking big.”
I let a beefy man in sports gear take me on all fours on the rain-drenched green—our clothes on, my skirt wrenched up—where anyone could see. “Brother!” I cried. “Do it to me, brother!”
“Yeah,” moaned the beefy guy as he fucked my pussy hard, my waiting climax ready to go wild, “I’m your brother, little girl. I’m your big-dicked brother.”
