Tartura: Destroyer of Innocent Souls
Copyright© 2024 Freya Gersemi. All rights reserved.
Chapter 6
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Tartura, an ancient vampire, needs virgin cum to survive. But it’s slowly tearing her apart. Is she evil or just an innocent victim, herself? Turn off the lights, curl up under a warm blanket, and dive into the dark and creepy world of a tortured soul who can’t stop destroying everything that she wraps her blood-red lips around. “A stream of consciousness monologue that reads like a nightmare.” One chapter posted per week. eBook available at Bookapy.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Mind Control Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Horror Vampires First Oral Sex Halloween
Nearly comatose, I gaze up at him. He looks down at me with sudden horrified realization and profound regret in his eyes, as I carefully lick the last of his cum from my lips and smile drunkenly at him. It’s the look that I’ve seen a million times from a million men. The harrowing eyes that haunt my dreams every single night.
But I got what I needed.
It’s so easy to rationalize the pain I’m causing others. It’s just who I am, I tell myself. It’s just something that I need. No one else would understand what it’s like.
Unfortunately, I understand exactly what it’s like for my victims. In a twisted attempt at atonement – a form of sick self-flagellation – I sometimes stay in their minds when they go home. I feel the regret that rips them apart.
I see the tears.
The broken trust.
The broken love.
I see the destroyed families. But I cannot stop myself.
I need this.
Sometimes, I just need to punish myself.
I know that I need to stop. I don’t know how. I’ve tried, but it’s beyond my control. This is just who I am. Forever.
Neither of us say a word as I sit up, open the car door, and get out. I may see him again somewhere, but I doubt I’ll recognize the shattered husk that I’ve just created. I don’t care enough to. Or maybe I’m so ashamed that I’ll just block him out. But he won’t recognize me. I’ll be someone else the next time. I always am.
Satiated, I float across the darkening parking lot on the wings of angels, leaving him in my past. From this moment on, though, his future will revolve around “Debbie,” the busty blonde that destroyed his marriage. He will curse me every single day for the rest of his life.
He can hop in line for that. It’s a long one.
But I don’t care anymore. I’m alive. I’m vivacious. For a short time, I’m invincible. A day? Three days? It’s hard to tell, but the way I’m feeling right now, I’m leaning towards the longer end of the spectrum. What’s-his-name – “Little Dick” – was brimming with love.
Not for me, but who cares? It’s mine now.
I drift home, have some dinner and turn on the TV. What an amazing invention. There are some decent shows on, nowadays. They’re entertaining. They help to kill the time until I need my next “fix.”
It’s almost four entire days until I feel the urge again. I turn off the TV and pull on a pair of old sneakers. I walk to the bank and grab some cash. I haven’t needed to work in decades – maybe even longer. When you’re eternal, it’s easy to save money. I just need to switch out names and banks every so often, reinvest every now and then, and sometimes dip into the collection of gold coins that I have in my safe at home as a hedge against inflation.
Also, some men give me things. You know, besides everlasting life.