Written in Blood
Copyright© 2021 by Millie 90 lbs of Dynamite
Chapter 7
Horror Sex Story: Chapter 7 - My name is Jane Hanson, Doctor Jane Hanson, and I am about to die. I take this task upon myself to write what has happened to me since I arrived here. Months have transpired with me in this, shall I say, prison. They passed like a flash of lightning in the night since this all began so far from here. With this said, I feel as if years passed by since I first stepped into this wonderful … dreadful … residence.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Coercion Mind Control Reluctant Lesbian Heterosexual Vampires
The Countess held the shovel. Hovering above me, her eyes were enraged, red, and glowing. With a roar, Valarie threw the spade away toward the stairs. The metal blade clattered on the steps. Reaching down, she clutched my neck, lifting me from the ground, and she flung me with the same ease as she tossed the shovel.
I crashed into her sarcophagus face down, felt the air rush from my body, struggling to breathe. A thick layer of dirt under me, I pushed up and turned over. A sick-sucking echoed in the vault as I tried to catch my breath. Valerie pounced on top of me, pinning me down, as I struggled to get air back into my lungs and tried to fight her. Glowering at me, she held me in place, her anger boiled, and I thought, “This is it; she’s going to kill me.”
“You tried to slaughter me,” she said.
“No, I wasn’t going to do that.”
“Liar,” she said. “You intended to cut my head off, how do you know?”
“Know what?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Mistress,” three-voice spoke in unison.
“My dear, sweet children, go away, take your prize to the library and finish her. Let the others sup first, Alexandru, lest you leave them nothing.”
“Of course, Mistress,” the elder said.
“Yes,” the other two said in unison. Laughing and talking, I heard their voices grow fainter until again we were in silence. Gazing around, I saw the rats glaring at us, perched on the ledge above, and I doubted if she’d order them to rip me to shreds, but she might. They scrambled around, running over each other to keep an eye on us.
Her eyes drew my attention back to her, burning her gawp into me, inside my thoughts, my memories, the Countess dug through my secrets old and new, she found what she wanted, those words sprang into her consciousness from my own.
“Perhaps this shall kill her and set me free,” inside both our minds, my words betrayed me.
“There is the truth. You tried to hide it from me,” Countess Drago said. “Foolish child, I can know your every thought, every emotion. Our bargain is ended. You shall be my child, one of Lilith’s daughters,” she said, her voice hissing like a snake.
Letting loose of one of my shoulders, she tugged her gown free from her breast. The Countess dragged a fingernail deep into the flesh of her exposed bosom, blood trickled from the gash, she lowered herself on me, forcing my mouth to her chest and the blood.
“Drink,” she ordered me, pushing my face right into the blood.
The red fluid flowed into my mouth in small gushes. The moisture tasted different than I expected, a light iron flavor. Somewhat savory and ever so, flavorsome. A shock passed through my system, befuddled me, making such a rush of bewilderment spread throughout my essence — I consumed the blood like a drunk guzzled down a bottle of wine.
Waves of ecstatic bliss engulfed me as I suckled her essence, an ecstasy I’d never experienced overwhelmed my entire being. I desired more. I feared that in that moment of wanton craving, I sealed my fate.
After a while, she stopped my feeding, and she fed on me.
We made love in that tomb, amid the stink of decay, we made ecstatic love. The smell no longer offended my senses. The foulness melted from my consciousness as thoughts of Valerie forced everything else aside while we became one.
All the while, she fed, which was beautiful, and I understood I belonged to her. When we finished, she carried me back to the room, laying me on the bed she cuddled with me. My breathing hurt me. My blood rushing through my veins felt like knives cutting their way from one place to another throughout my veins. The realization came over me, I was dying, and I realized death clutched me in a cold, rapturous embrace.
Death caressed me as a lover. Late in the evening, she rose and was gone.
Through the hours, I lingered in pain, and my agony flowered as my strength failed. I longed for the sweet release of death. Out of character, I prayed to a God, despite the fact I didn’t believe in him, for some sort of divine intervention. None came, and I lingered in a twilight nearing the crossing over the Countess had spoken about early that morning.
The door creaked and groaned. A young woman stood just inside the door. With her hand clutched to her neck, blood oozed around her fingers in short pulses, and she stumbled toward me. Falling on the bed, just inches from me, I saw her hand move away from the slash in her neck.
In a flash, I sprang on her, clamping my mouth over the wound, drinking deep of her essence. The manna was paltry, nearly flavorless, affording no measure of enjoyment compared to the Countess’s rich, vibrant blood. Nonetheless, it fed me, giving me the sustenance I needed. Death’s hold slipped from me as my strength grew.
I sucked on her vein, drinking in the near lifeless fluid, feeling her rapture but gaining little joy from her ecstasy. It provided nourishment but did nothing to satisfy the deeper want. The yearning was beyond this child’s capacity to fulfill. Once I had my fill, I tossed her to the floor. When I sat up in my bed, I turned and saw all of them standing there, watching the show.
The boys clapped their hands, retrieved the dying girl, and hurried away to satisfy their own desires. I had never seen the girl before, never set eyes on her as a living being again, for they would consume every drop of her.
Though my Mistress had been careful not to cut her deep enough for the girl to bleed to death, I had drunk deeply from her. They would take more, and she wouldn’t last until the first light. I knew she’d be dead soon, and I didn’t care. Countess Drago was right. No life existed within these sheep.
“You need time to regain your strength,” she said. “It’s the 23rd day of May. The boys will leave you alone until June 1st. After that, the younger boys will feed on you. Alexandru will not, for he would take all of you in two days, perhaps one. I want you to have a long time to pay for your disobedience.
The younger boys, well, if they gulp two mouthfuls a day of your life saturated blood, their needs will be satiated, three hearty gulps of your blood, and their lust are fulfilled. I don’t want that, and they need to learn to hunt.
“Alexandru is fifty years Undead. He hunts for his food, he will continue to do so. He will bring the boys playthings to allow you time to recover. They will feed on you for months. It will be August before your weakness will make you bedridden. September before death releases you from your suffering. Afterward, you die and are reborn one of my Undead, a child of Lilith, and my sweet daughter, as well.”
“I promise you,” Countess Drago said, “glorious rapture, freedom from any moral restraint, and life ever after unto infinity. For a time, near the end, ecstasy wears off, a slow, agonizing death follows. This torment is your punishment. You are not allowed to feed again until after you are Undead.”
She moved to the door, opening it, the two younger boys entered the room. “Cristian and Boian have only been with me for a few months longer than you. So young, so much for them to learn. If I delay my departure until you can go with me, you can have Michael for your first convert. Don’t you want to feed on Michael?”
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