The Pleasure in Death

I quickly wrote this quickie.  I’m going to write some erotic vampire fiction later, so this is just me putting down some initial thoughts for you to read. 

I stood alone, transfixed by Carmilla’s haunting gaze – or possibly it was the thick blood red wine freshly drunk – an uncontainable fit of lust coursing through my body.  I hadn’t desired this, yet as I looked into her cold dank eyes an unknown passion built inside of me telling me what I must do, so I obeyed.  It told me to slip my dress off onto the floor and remove my brassiere and panties, and I did so unquestioningly.  The cool air on my naked skin excited me; her lascivious eye, now fixed on my small breasts, both thrilled and scared me.  The wine glass I held slipped from my hand in fear, crashed to the floor and shattered, thick red liquid covering my bare legs.  Dark red wine mingled with deep thick blood as the shards of glass rent open my flesh.
“Renfield, tidy that mess up,” she ordered the meek servant who had been watching on in awe and amazement.  He scurried over, and like a rabid animal he began to lick the juice from off of me, slowly sucking the blood-wine from my toes and feet, slowly licking the blood-wine that had gathered in dropsand congealed on my leg.  His tongue slowly, but eagerly, embarked on its cleansing journey further upwards until instead of sticky wine I was drenched in his hot sticky saliva.  As his tongue caressed my inner thigh, creeping upwards to a place that had begun to drip a different kind of liquid, Carmilla ordered him to stop. “You have had your fun.  Your place is to watch, and perhaps if you behave like a good servant, as you should we shall have sport of you later.”
“I will do as you bid good lady,” he muttered deferentially and scurried back into the corner and continued to watch.
“Now my love, Clara; my lovely Clara,” her hand caressed my cheek as she whispered enticing promises of many pleasures in my gullible ear.  “Lay down darling, Clara lay down.  Close your eyes and lay back and I shall take you to places you never dreamed possible.  Lay down and feel Clara; feel me and die.  Die erotic death for me, Clara, and be reborn to my world of endless pleasure.”  I moaned softly as her delicate hands gently brushed over my naked tingling skin, taking in the feel of my neck, the soft round shape of my breasts, the curve on my hips and the moistness and depth of my willing pussy.  I was told to lay back, so I lay back, and I moaned gently as her finger slipped inside of me; my breath quickened, my pulse raced and my mind spun lightly round and round; round and round I span as her fingers worked round and round my hole, and with the spinning came pleasure and with pleasure came the light release of death.  And more pleasure, forever.  I was held fast in this world of blood-red pleasure and could not move to save myself from the end.  But I wanted the release her fingers were giving to me as they soaked up the juices from inside of my dripping cunt.  I wanted the release she would give me as she moved in close, sighed, whispered “I love you, Clara, I want you,” in my ear.  I wanted her too; I wanted the release found from the taste of the bloody wine on her feminine lips, the hot slime of her tongue and her cloudy breath on my neck.  I wanted the release from the prick of her teeth in my neck, the caress of her tongue as she eagerly sucked in the blood that spilled from the tiny gashes she created, the release from the intense orgasm  only pleasure mingled with sharp deathly pain can bestow.
I slid my hands over my naked dying body and moaned aloud in ecstasy.  Sticky blood-red spilled from the hole in my neck as sticky wet fingers slipped from the hole in my cunt and into my waiting mouth.  I sucked blood and pussy juice and I came.   I came, and I died; died to be reborn into a new pleasure.   

2 thoughts on “The Pleasure in Death

  1. That’s sinfully, delightfully, lustfully beautiful. You are an incredible person with a fascinatingly creative mind. Reading this has been a genuine pleasure

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