Laying over this man, I wonder how I got here. How did I come to be this thing? I am flesh and blood, but my needs are ravenous. I see this man. He lays cold and dead, I have yet to learn not to kill these men, but a part of me feels the rush and the energy and death it seems, is the best release.
I kiss him gingerly upon his collarbone. A kiss of death so to speak. I open his eyes, and they are beautifully glazed icy blue. His skin still so warm to the touch, but my being can feel the cold deep inside him.
I feel no pity for this man. I feel not that his family will mourn him, or that his wife will bemoan his fate. Yes, she will know he copulated. Though she will never imagine that to him it just seemed a life like dream. Pure exstacy before he wasted away and died. No, I have no sympathy, no feelings to speak of at all. It is how I have survived for these many centuries. Not feeding on blood, but on passion, on carnal desires, on this emense lust that drives me day in and day out constantly looking for the next man to supress my incessant appitite.
I close his eyes as I get up to leave him releasing his wife from the coma like state I bequeathed to her upon my arrival. As silently as I had entered, I was gone. Something inside me wondered about the life I used to have.
I was on the nigh of my 16th winter on this planet. The year was 1533 and I had witnessed the execution of the King's second wife. Therre had been a malady coming and going for some time. It had been referred as the "sweating sickness". My very own mother had said I had taken ill when I was but a newly born infant. The physicians who attended me said that I would not last the night, which brough my mother to tears and hysterics. My very own father, the King, saw to my small army of physicians and nurses. Though, secretly, for he did not want it to be known I was the daughter of a beggar woman. The king, I later found out had mistresses a plenty from court, but never took prostitutes or beggars. I realized differntly. I was a secret, born of sin and lies. I was sick from birth, but, according to mother healthy and active in her womb, though I brought sever fatique and sickness to her.
Oh yes, that malady I was referring to. I do so have a tendancy to get off track. My mother blamed the "sweat" for my constant lethargy and immobilization. I had to be carried to the carriage and carried to the Tower Green to see the execution. My father was nowhere in sight. Queen Anne looked directly at me the moment her head was struck from her body. I remembered that day. She seemed so regal and smiled at me in that moment as though she were at peace with her fate so it seemed. It was a clean cut from an expert swordsman that traveled to London from Calais, France. He was regal, this frenchman. He was tall and of a muscular structure, but lean none the less. I remember he had the flowing blonde hair of an angel, but a wicked smile that seemed devilish. He too stared at Anne as he struck her neck with his sword. The look on his face seemed to take a great deal amount of pleasure in this. One who enjoyed his occupation to the fullest. He then looked at me, with that iniquitous smile of his.
I had risen to meet his gaze, but had to sit just as quickly as exaustion took me over once again. His brows furrowed with concern, and quickly made his way down the scaffold and inquired as to my condition. Though, with him there beside me I could seemingly feel my energy level raise ever so slightely and my frenchman yawned. I stood again from my seat and spoke with him for a moment as he told me that he was staying at court during his visit to England. At such time he invited me to dine at Hampton court that night. My mother, seeing me stand and a bit energetic did not desuade the invitation.
This man whom I had learned his name was Jean Phillip, offered to purchase for me according attire for court at seeing the hand made dress, smock, and bonnet my mother had sewed together out of scrap fabric from a neighbor of ours.
There I was at court that night, seated beside my Jean Phillip. Everyone at the table talked and gossiped and laughed. So many wondered who I was and where I had come from. My lips remained sealed and the topic of discussion quickly changed by my new beau, my first.
His gaze found mine on several occasion and I met it with building wild ferocity. The more the fire seemed to burn within me the more energy I felt, the more alive I became. Though, I did not understand why the men and women at the table seemed to grow tired in the early evening.
I heard a voice call from the front of the great hall. "Who is the girl who has so seemed to enchant the masses at her table?" I turned and realized the the voice was none other than the King himself, Henry VIII, my illegitamate father.
I turned to him with a face he seemed to recognize and I could see him wince from unseen pain. Did he know with whom he inquired? Did he see himself in this angelic face? I smiled. "I am but nothing except a humble servant to his majesty." I proclaimed. "One whose great wisdom and power refects in my words and actions alike." I stated.
"Your parents are surely proud of you, then. That you should hold your king so highly." he commented me for the entire court to hear.
I nodded. "Yes your majesty! My mother is proud indeed, but it is my father to whom I hold the unmost respect and love. My father I adore with all my being." I sang of praises envied of the court to speak of love so high, though inside I felt no such thing for anyone. Contrition is what longed to see in this man's face. It was so, as he appeared to tear and hastily retreated from the ensuing merriment. I smiled wickedly.
Jean Phillip looked at me and stood holding out his hand. He kissed it and bade me good night that the previous events had taxed his researve of energy. I smiled and curtsied as I watched him walk off. I sat and enjoyed the merriment as one by one the guests at the table bade me good night and left.
So I was. All alone at the table and my energy level had plumeted once again. I felt a heat between my thighs that grew ever so strongly and a desire that burned through my body and coursed in my veins. I imagined Jean Phillip asleep in his bed and envisioned me beside him touching. When I came to reality, I was in his bed. I was straddled ontop of him my clothing curiously gone. I could feel the length of him harden and press against my inner thigh and the fire burned hotter.
My hands curled in his hair and I pulled it jerkingly making him moan with urgency. His hips seemed to take a life of their own as they slowly bucked against me. His hardness tried so diligently to find the heat that eminated from within me and rolled torrent against his belly and thighs.
I bent down and pressed my lips against his softly at first and then with more passion as my hands pulled his hair roughly. His eyes snapped open and he grinned as he bit me hard on my shoulder. I gasped as wet warmth flowed from my neck and steamed over his mouth and on the bed itself. His hands found my hips and roughly shoved the entire length of him inside me. I gasped yet again as the heat seemed to just over power me. Energy coursed throughout my being as the wound from my shoulder continued to bleed. He continued to drink as our hips bucked in fluid motion. After a while he stated to yawn and then just as suddenly as he yawned he shoved me off of him throwing me off of the bed altogether.
"Succubus." he smiled. He stood up weakly quickly gaining his stregnth back the further I was away from him.
"What?" I asked
He shook his head. "J'ai attendu pour toujours pour trouver un de votre sorte. C'est étonnant !." he said in French.
I just stared at him the heat which had momentarily gone was coming back again. I really thought as though I would attack him. Apparantly, understanding the confused yet determined look on my face he made his way to me and we both finished what had been started.
He looked over at me, as I sat beside him completely fulfilled. "You need to leave." he said
I looked over at him hastily, mockingly offended by his words. "You'll kill me if you don't leave now." He grabbed my hand and kissed it. "We'll meet again. Perhaps in a few days. Amazing!" he finished and I retreated.
As I walk down this street looking at the different men and watching them stare at me I can't help but wonder why Jean Phillip has lived? Why had he lived when everyone else has died? Not one lover has ever matched the passion or diligence since him. I take what I need (which seems too much) and I leave them dead.
I have come to learn in my five centuries of life that I can sustain myself on feeding off the energy of people by just being around them and focusing my will, but it takes the passion and energy of raw carnal sex to keep my satiated, to saturate my being with pure life.
I am glaring at this man who has fixated on me and can't let up his gaze. I think I will follow him home and pay him a visit in a week or so... when my energy starts to wane.
Re: Let the Blood Flow...
Wow Babygurl you are on fire tonight!
My attention was glued to every single words -
Yes, your French is (almost) impeccable and we are indeed lovers of great abilities capable to survive a succubus at her best LOL. Cudos on the research -
LET THE BLOOD FLOW
..HOLY SHIT..THATS AWESOME..AND IF I SAY ITS AWESOME YOU KNOW ITS THE TRUTH..YOU'VE OUTDONE ME WITH THIS ONE..EVEN THOUGH OUR STYLES ARE VERY DIFFERNT..MY SHROUD IS OFF TO YOU BG..CANT WAIT TO READ MORE..YOU WRITE SOMEWHAT LIKE ANNE RICE..AGAIN..AWESOME...PEACE LUV AND FILTHY THOUGHTS...SAK
Chapter 2
In all my life I have never met another such as I. I have read about them in myth, demons they say we are, I am. I can't be a demon for I was born of flesh and blood. It is an affliction that causes my ceaseless quest for the ultimate passion, for the incestant need to feed. Demonic by all rights, but surely that doesn't make me a demon.I sit at a beautiful breakfast table with a piece of toast and jam, and a glass of orange juice. I skim through the paper and read over the string of unexplained deaths I have left. Though they appear to police as random coincidental deaths. My thoughts take me back to that of "the sweat". Perhaps new medical research will show that particular melady has returned.This is a wonderfully esquisite room with lavish topiary and a wonderful skylight. The day is overcast which makes it bearable for me to bask in this room. Scanning the paper I am reading of another murder in New Orleans, a woman whose body was drained of blood. That would be the fifth this year. Me reading this takes me back and that all to familiar heat is welling up between my thighs in an intensity long pushed back in the ressess' of my mind, but making a sluggish imergense to the forefront.I had left England that night of my first incident. I was confused and thusly left in haste. Jean Phillip was someone with whom I wanted no part of. The intesity he brought me was something I did not care for to feel again. Though, I secretly longed for the animalism that matched my own ardor, I didn't need it. The heat, so it seems, is beckoning to me.I listen to the man in the other room moan ever so slightly trying desperately to gain strength enough to get up. I set my unfinished juice down upon the table and walk into the large foyer. This old plantation has been my home now for more than for the past few weeks. The man who occupy's this home is a ravishing dignitary. I surmise that my humble beginnings have caused me to chose men of high stature and rank. I find it a bit comical that the daughter of a lowly beggar woman can have such poweress over such regal men.I lay on the sofa next to this dark haired male human persona of perfection. Every inch of him sculpted to exquisite decadance. Though, he doesn't seem to closely compare with Jean Phillip. None of them have been able to match the passion or the intensity of pure raw fucking. Hmm. Perhaps one shouldn't use such carnal words, but what best way to expalin such a carnal act than with an equally carnal word?This man can barely lift his hand, all his strength has left him, but he does manage to reach his hand to my cheek and trace his finger along my jaw. He looks at me with pleading eyes, those dark pleading eyes. For a moment I loose my focus on him and just gaze upon him. I reach my hand to his face and trace my fingers along his jaw as well, working up to his head full of tousled hair, black and long. I trace his shoulder and his chest and slide down past his belly to his soft patch of hair, grabbing his already stiffened member in the palm of my hand. He lets out a broken moan, as I message him slowly. My lips kiss his forehead, and the tip of his nose, and lightly on his lips. I linger there for a moment his eyes rolling from the pleasure he was recieving. Just before he was about to spray my belly with his seed, I stopped.I struggled for breath and I kissed him full on the mouth with unrelenting energy. The heat that eminated from me seemed unbearable, but I had been accustomed to tolerate it. I moved from the sofa and his arms lunged for me to stay beside him. I looked at him as I knelt. Surely he knows he is dying. He is in such a state of euphoria that he mustn't really care. Perhaps he doesn't believe it is real, but just a dream?I take his phallus in my hand and move my head between his legs. I gently kiss the inside of his thighs and stroke him softly. He groans again. I lick at the base of his hardness and run my tounge teasingly up the length of him. I can taste the sweat from the sweat from him as well as remnants of myself from an ealier session. I must admit that my taste in intoxicating even to myself.I swirl my tounge against his now throbbing head. His hips seem to instictually thrust up and in so doing I take the length of him down my throat making him lose more energy by reaching for my head and raking violently as his seed explodes and courses down my throat.
Re: Let the Blood Flow...
Then all was silent. I could feel him grow limp still in my mouth at an quickening rate. I didn't have to look up at him to know that he was dead. I lifted my head and let his phallus fall flacid against his belly. I looked up at his face and saw his eyes glaze over. The life that was his was fleeting, but I could feel his energy run torrent through me. I showered and put on new clothes, fixed my hair, grabbed the cash out of the safe and headed out. I hadn't walked far when an all too familiar heat fastly stoked itself between my legs. I could feel my panites soak again from the intesity of the heat. I looked around. A presence I was vaguely familiar with seemed so close. I kept walking but as I walked my body flooded with intense searing pain. I had to drop on my knees from my present affliction. A shadow. I looked up. A hand reached down under my chin.
Let The Blood Flow....Chapter 3
"Ma convoitise, mon coeur." an all too familiar language and accent
I looked up and saw him. It just seemed so awkward to me. To have him standing here before me with such fire burning in me. Every nerve ending was on fire, was being seared. I winced slightly the pain was more than I could bear. Yet, it was ethereal. Every fiber of my being felt so alive so sensitive. I reached between my legs and found my soaked throbbing sex, that in itself set a new blaze in quick succession of the other.
He reached down and grabbed my hand away and a low gutteral growl escaped his throat as the moisture from my fingers transferred to his. He dropped my hand as though he had grabbed a smoldering coal from a blazing fire.
He backed away a few steps from me. "So, this is where you have been le plus cher?" He smiled slightly.
I stood up shakily the feeling becoming a little more bearable. "How did you find me?" I stared through his dark sunglasses able to see into the blue iris's behind them. He was quite. "How did you find me Jean Phillip?!" I demanded
"I have been looking for you ever since that night." he looked at me ardently "You remember that night?" he grinned that intrepid grin of his.
"Oh... You mean the night you threw me off of your bed?" I inquired
"You would have killed me if I hadn't." he stated
I shook my head. "I didn't know that." I started walking away from him the blaze within me growing more strong by the second.
"If you would have stayed and let me talk to you the next day you would have found out a lot easier than you have been. You would have learned a lot more as well cheri."
I stopped and looked back. "What do you know of me? How long have you been in the states?" I asked
"Why do you ask?"
"Your accent isn't as thick as it used to be. You have taken on a more english accent." I told him.
"Yeah! We'll your British isn't as great as it once was. Your Majesty." he countered with mocking effect.
I continue to walk away, but with everystep it seems as though I am walking on pins. The pain shoots up through me and my sex throbs menacingly. My vision blurrs and I seem to have trouble breathing. I fall once again to my knees and almost as instantly Jean Phillip is upon me kneeling behind me. The pain seems to subside slightly and is soon replaced by the fervent heat that is welling within me.
A sharp prick at the base of my neck and warm sticky fluid streams down my chest. Jean Phillip put his mouth back over the wound and preceeds to drink of my blood. The moisture between my legs pools in my panites. They and my skirt are quickly ripped off, buy either him or me I am not quite sure. I try and struggle to get away, but the growl deep in his throat prevents me from doing so. He turns me around so violently and a I gasp and he climbs on me pure lust in him. I stare up at him as he roughly fills me, he growls low and gutteral before empting himself shakingly into me and then backs off desperate to regain potency he lost during the intrigue.
Jean Phillip took a long ragged breath. I try to step closer but the motion of his hand forbids me to do so. After a moment he stands up. "Shit. You'd fucking kill me if I didn't weaken you down first." He complains looking at me. "You're now what you're suppose to be."
I just stare at him confused. "I don't understand." my voice monotoned
"You are born of flesh and blood, but you are not human. I have just given you a gift. Now, you are fully what you are supposed to be." he smiles "I have given you my seed. Now, go and.... pass it along." oh that devilish smile of his.
I have not a clue as to what he mean by this. Though, I am not sure I want to find out. The heat between my legs subsides for what has seemed an eternity. I shake my head ever so slightly.
Jean Phillip leans over and kisses me lightly on the lips. "You are overflowing and you need to make a deposit if you catch my drift. Go find yourself a nice lovely lady and um.. I would think that rest is up to you." he whispers.
I am laughing now. This is the most strangest thing I have heard, but for some reason it makes sense. I look at Jean Phillip and he bids me ado. He says he will find me again very soon. I comment something around the fact that not if I leave, but he assures me he is bonded to me now and will be able to find me no matter where I try and escape too.
Hmmm. I guess I will go see what he means about a lovely lady. I smile. A virgin lovely lady..
Let The Blood Flow...chapter 3 cont..
Jean Phillip leans over and kisses me lightly on the lips. "You are overflowing and you need to make a deposit if you catch my drift. Go find yourself a nice lovely lady and um.. I would think that rest is up to you." he whispers.
I am laughing now. This is the most strangest thing I have heard, but for some reason it makes sense. I look at Jean Phillip and he bids me ado. He says he will find me again very soon. I comment something around the fact that not if I leave, but he assures me he is bonded to me now and will be able to find me no matter where I try and escape too.
Hmmm. I guess I will go see what he means about a lovely lady. I smile. A virgin lovely lady..
Let The Blood Flow.... Chapter 4
I must have walked for what seemed to be miles. Turning around I see an empty highway and desert all around me for miles on end. This was not the humidity of a muggy louisiana weather where the dampness hung around your head. This was the Nevada desert and I am on my way to the beautiful Las Vegas, or sin city as it is so referred to.
It is the dead of night and I have been walking for what seems forever. The chill flows through me icing my bones and freezing my flesh. Being the nature of what I am, it is hard for me to feel the sting of pain from cold or ice. The heat the seems to eminate from within me keeps my flesh forever warm and glowing. On the inside, I am hot, scorchingly so.
I have to stop and look behind me. I hear the motor of a car as it roars behind me and then sputters to a halt. The man inside beckons me to get inside. Had he any incling of the manner of creature I truely was he would be wise as to run as far from me as his wheels could drive him. Alas, he being of the human male nature can't seem to resist that which is pretty and innocent looking. Even if behind the innocent face lies the brutality of a being who is obsessed with sex and death and the seemingly neverending pain and excuisite pleasure that both can bring.
I smile in the blackness, with his headlights shinning into the pitch of night. Far into the distance I can see a small glimmer of lights. Las Vegas I wonder? I get into the car and almost instantly smell something odd. Something is definantly wrong here, but what I can't seem to put my finger on it.
He smiles so impishly, he is but a boy. Perhaps in his late teens or very early 20's, a boy none the less. Yet, the smell I can't seem to get over. It is so intoxicating, and invigorating unlike any I have every smelled on a man before. I smiled back at him and looked around the car and surprisingly didn't see anyone else in it.
"So what are you doing out here this time of night? It's dangerous you know?" he inquires
"I am not afraid. Nothing can really harm me at night than what can harm me in the day." I reply
He starts to drive off and he no sooner reaches speed limit when the car starts slowing down and pulls off on a side road. I roll my eyes.
"You have got to be kidding me?" I state calmly
"What did you expect?" he replies
He leans over toward me in my seat and out of the blue bore four rows of razor sharp teeth such as Jean Phillip himself sank into my flesh twice. His breath, on the other hand, was something abominable. I reach my arm back and slap him as hard as I can breaking his neck and spinning his head 180 degrees.
I calmly open my door and get out of the car. No sooner had I shut my car door then he gangily gets out of his side and twists his head back around with a bone cruching snap.
"Bitch!" he states guterally
I kind of smirk at this. He comes flying at me again. He knocks me down and my hand comes flying into his face and through to the back of his head. I pull my hand out and roll him over. As I straddle him I rip his head and neck from his shoulders and reach down and pull is heart out and shove it in the hole I made in his face. "Good luck coming back from this one." I murmur
I close my eyes and that smell is still here. So invigorating. So intoxicating. A new kind of exitement courses through me. Some kind of musky scent. I am drawn back to the car and open the trunk. There laying in the truck is a girl probably a little older than I was when I had experiance my first sexual encounter. She had a wound on her neck, but she was still breathing though barely alive. The scent.
In a frenzy of such animalistic rage and exitement I pull her out of the car and lay her on the ground. I ripp off what clothes she has on. Seeing her naked body makes my own sex pulse and throb and swell. Her scent is driving me completely mad. I can't really seem to make out exactly what is going on and can't rationalize anything except what is laying before me. She moans as I mount her. My sex has swollen and has engorged itself to a mostrous size. Unable to stop myself, not really wanting to, I ripped into her thrusting violently and spasmodically until I erupted fiercely within her. Centuries of storred male seed rushed into her filling her completely full. The force of which and the massive quantity broke through her intrails and oozed out her nose, mouth, ears and and her anus. I pulled out of her and returned to my normal state of being. I looked at her eyes and saw that all to familiar glaze. I shook my head not knowing what had happened. Why had she died? I looked at the seed the oozed from her orifices.
Confused. I got back into the car, turned the ignition and drove on to Vegas. That wonderfully tormenting heat slowly starting rolling through my thighs once again.
Let The Blood Flow....chapter 4 continued
and spasmodically until I erupted fiercely within her. Centuries of storred male seed rushed into her filling her completely full. The force of which and the massive quantity broke through her intrails and oozed out her nose, mouth, ears and and her anus. I pulled out of her and returned to my normal state of being. I looked at her eyes and saw that all to familiar glaze. I shook my head not knowing what had happened. Why had she died? I looked at the seed the oozed from her orifices.
Confused. I got back into the car, turned the ignition and drove on to Vegas. That wonderfully tormenting heat slowly starting rolling through my thighs once again.
Let The Blood Flow.... Chapter 5
In the year 1570 I had made my way to Sarvar, Kingdom of Hungary. I seduced my way into the palace and became a favorite of Mrs. Elizabeth Bathory. In the few years to follow I became a close confidante of Queen Bathory. Thusly due, I attended her wedding in Varrano palace in May of 1575. She learning of my secret, being probably the closest thing to a friend I would have ever had, became obsessed with learning the secret that was mine alone, though I knew not really what it was. It was the energy of men I needed the most, but she became twisted in the concepts and the fantasies of it all.
She had become enraged with me to the point of drawing blood from a harsh scratch one of her rings and made upon her slapping me across the cheek. I instantly healed and the blood from my quickly vanished wound splattered her cheek. When she went to her vanity mirror to wipe it off, she had noticed a wrinkle gone and that her skin was flush and warm. At this time she had not known of what I was, for I barely knew myself. She inquired as to the meaning of this and I could tell her not from how the majick came to be. She never knew me to be of a promiscous nature as I had to keep the utmost secrecy on the subject of my conquests and feedings. I ate and drank with no abnormal ado, but it was the life force from men that sustained me. Yet, I knew not much of these things at this specific time in my history.
Being my closest confidante and I hers. She kissed me freverntly on the lips cupping my face in her hands. She bid me off and that she would talk to me again shortly. If ever I was able to feel love, perhaps it would have been for this woman alone. Who desearves a husband who only wishes you to bear children and serve no other formidable purpose to them? She was a lonely woman who often sought company of girls. So, I did not think it to strange when she started having village virgins come to court.
Then one night she summoned me to her. The dungeon of the castle no less. That is when I saw the body of the young girl hanging over a barrell and being bled like a swine from a butchers stand. The girl looked over at me as she bled out. I walked over to her and kissed her lips as she gurgled as the swine do. I stood there staring at her eyes as for what seems only a small time compared to my years now. I watched her blue eyes grow cloudy and then glaze over as death took her.
Ah! The sweet innocence of virginity. The inpecable implications that can accompany such a title, can be so much to bear. Is it a wonder why virginity has come to be such a social taboo in this day and time?
Eliazabeth bade me to bath in the dark liquid with her. Knowing that this was a futile attempt at youth on her part seemed all to much a waste of time as I am sure my words would have been utterly ignored and rendered just as useless. So, the fluid was poured into a large guilded tub by four virgin prisoners who must have felt the fear of God at seeing this girls end. They were promptly put back in their cells and made to watch as two girls bathed and loll in a large tub of once life giving blood. How many girls were bled for the contents of this tub? I was not sure, but when the Queen beckoned me to tell her how beautiful she was. I could not lie, for she was most beautiful. Though to say so and then attest that the blood was not nessisary would have made her to seem a monster.
Obsession makes people, all beings rather, do things they would probably never succumb to. Obsession, if not properly handled can be a very powerful vice, or can be a very formidable tool. So often not, I have seen it misused. Thus leading to ruin.
Let The Blood Flow.... Chapter 5 continued
So, it was that several virgins later and years following the original sin. The Queen was sentenced to her chambers and never to be let out. She was walled up given for a small opening for food. She died alone in the dark of her room, without a companion one, old and decayed before her time. So, in 1630, years after her death I left Hungary to travel elsewhere. Hoping that somewhere I could find someone like me, something like me.
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