Saturday, December 3, 2011

Blood Slave - Michelle Hughes (Short Story)



Blood Slave - Michelle Hughes

She walked into the darkened room feeling the cool concrete beneath
her bare feet. The soft glow of candlelight cast an eerie glow bringing
the shadows to life all around her. Her hands trembled as she walked
toward the throne, the outline of the Master she was to serve seeming as
still as the concrete floor. A shiver moved through her small frame, not
sure if the cool waft of air that blew against the light cotton of her gown or
the fear of the unknown situation before her was to blame. The long
months of rituals were behind her and she knew how to serve the man
awaiting her, at least in theory.

As she finally advanced to the throne she lowered her eyes in
supplication. Her hands lowered to the hem of her plain white gown and
she lifted it above her head casting it aside nervously. Closing her eyes
she took a few deep breaths before lowering to her knees, her silken
hair caressing the coolness of her bare flesh as she waited for his
command. The coolness against her knees caused her trembling to
increase and it seemed an eternity before he stood.

With predatory likeness he walked around her slowly, his large hand
lifting a long strand of her raven hair, enjoying the smooth silkiness as he
rubbed the strands between his fingers. "Stand," he demanded harshly
wishing to inspect this blood slave more fully before he accepted her
worth.

She stood on trembling legs, her hands moving behind her and clasping
together as she had been trained. She could almost feel his eyes
roaming her body and forced herself to remain absolutely still. As his
cool hand touched her shoulder she couldn't stop the small start that was
unintentional.

This one would do well; he thought to himself his hand landing in a firm
slap to her bare ass for her misconduct. She only jumped slightly at the
sting from his hand and he was pleased that she was able to control
herself so well on her first service. "Lift your hair, slave," he demanded
of her.

Her hands moved to twist her long hair and pile it on top of her head
holding it in her hands as she attempted to quell the trembling that
moved through her. A long finger traced from her chin to her neck,
pausing over the pulse of the artery there for a few moments. He could
smell the heady scent of her blood moving just below the ivory flesh and
his fangs descended.

A deep growl escaped him, "Release your hair slave." Immediately her
hands fell allowing the long silken strands to fall down her bare back as
her hands moved to clasp again behind her. Her body instantly became
aroused at the low growl and she shifted somewhat to stop the dull ache
between her thighs. She was rewarded with another firm slap to her ass.
Her arm was grabbed roughly as he led her to the side of the large
room where a red velvet covered settee was placed. "Sit", the one word
was spoken harshly and without thought she sat down primly on the
edge.

The softness of the material was even stimulating against her bare flesh
as a soft groan escaped her lips. "Lay back", he demanded allowing the
small sound for the moment as his mind submitted to the blood lust.

As she lay back on the soft cushioning, her hands tightened in small fists
at her side to stop her hips from arching upward. She had never been
so aroused and yet he had not even touched her in a way that would
cause such a reaction. "Spread", he demanded roughly the need for
blood outweighing any other desire at the moment.

Parting her legs slightly she was confused as her training had not
prepared her to move this far. With little patience his hands moved to
her inner thighs and roughly pulled them apart widely. She gasped out
loud at the suddenness of his movements and he growled loudly. His
head lowered to her inner thigh and his fangs slid into the artery there
deeply.

As he drank she cried out at the overwhelming desire that flooded
through her body. Arching her hips up, she strained against his mouth
the sounds of him consuming her blood almost causing her to come
undone immediately. Never had she felt such unbelievable need, the
deeper the pull the more she wanted him to consume. "Don't stop," she
begged desperately straining to push even closer. Even as her body
became weakened from the loss of blood she wanted more. Brilliant
lights danced before her eyes as she felt her body release, his hands
held her tightly to his mouth as he drank her in like a heady wine. As
darkness overcame her, he licked the wound closed completely
satiated. The faint beating of her heart assured him she would soon heal
and be prepared to feed him again when he allowed her the pleasure.
He left her to rest on the settee a pleased smile finding his face.

Charity awoke several hours later nestled against the crushed velvet, her
body lethargic as she tried to rise up on her arms. Tears of humiliation
slid down her pale cheeks at how easily she had given over to him. She
had fought against her training for the last year to the point of nearly
causing her own demise. When starvation failed to arouse any
sympathy, in truth she had only been able to go without eating for one full
day, she had become aggressive to the point that the trainers took
several precautions before coming near her. Her mind had become so
weary with the constant fight against her own nature that she had been
somewhat broken for the last week. Unable to lift her own slight body
weight, she gave up the fight and leaned back against the soft
cushioning of the settee and allowed her mind to wander back to the day
she was brought to this forsaken castle.   

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