Vampire | BDSM | Erotica | Short Fiction | Paranormal Romance

Enthralled at the Twilight Citadel

Vasilia has a new toy.

Standing before them; walls of sheer stone and brick and basalt towering into the dark and foggy sky. The moon, full, glowing, like the unblinking eye of the Goddess of the night sky, stared at them beyond the soaring towers, jagged crenellations and black-rock bastions. The air felt cold, and they shivered, but not from frost. Rather, from fear. Gray clouds loomed around the old, daunting castle as though drawn to its imposing stature, and could not escape the gravity of its size.

“Are you still sure about Christopher?” asked tiny, terrified Tanja, who, by simply observing the citadel, was filled with a desire to drop their brand-new JVC tape camera and flee without turning back.

Her deep-red hair blew in the breeze, and tickled her nose. She turned the camera on him, catching his fluffy, golden locks and coy smile in the moonlight.

“Yeah, duh!” He swallowed hard. “Think about it! The first people to film the inside of the Twilight Citadel! Nobody’s been inside for decades!”

“There might be a reason for that, Chris,” replied Nadine, brushing her curly, jet-black hair away from her blue eyes and bronzed skin. “This place is creepy as hell.”

“This is the worst way to spend my twenty-first birthday,” Tanja, the youngest of the three, whined.

Lightning struck from a looming cloud and struck somewhere so near that Chris felt the earth rumble beneath him. The flash of light illuminated the many dark, towering windows that dotted the huge, stone castle. Nadine yelped loudly, physically recoiling as though she’d seen a huge spider on her foot.

“What?!” Christopher asked, fearing for himself.

“I — I saw someone! Up there!” She shuddered, pointing to an arched window some few dozen feet up. “A woman! She — she…”

“Relax!” Christopher assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’re seeing ghosts.”

She shivered, as though cold. “That’s what I’m afraid of…”

“Me too,” whimpered Tanja, turning the camera on them.

“Come on, let’s go!”

“Must we?”

Christopher didn’t stay around to answer. He rushed ahead, skipping over felled logs, struck by storms who knew how long ago. He cleaved at old bramble that blocked the path with a sturdy stick until they could walk, unabated, to the castle door. Old, wooden, braced with black steel and decorated with a huge, ring-shaped knocker that hung from an iron grotesque’s face. Nadine shivered as she stared at it.

“Make sure you film this,” Christopher nodded brashly at Tanja.

He thudded the knocker against the door, and a deep, resounding boom echoed in the empty halls beyond. The door nudged open from the force, creaking loudly as it did. Chris gave an amazed and excited glare to the lens of the camera, and intentionally ignored the fearful expression on its wielder’s face.

“Far out,” Chris chortled, pushing the huge, walnut door open.

“Chris — ”

“Come on!” his voice chimed from within.

Nadine and Tanja followed cautiously; their footfalls were light, their breath shallow. Christopher was far more ham-fisted about it, charging ahead and shining his torch at the old paintings and decorations.

“Woah,” he exclaimed, staring at the twin pairs of black-stone stairs, draped in red rugs, leading up to a mezzanine that stared down at them. Banisters made of stone, rocky teeth in a grinning maw, lined the level and ran down the stair sets like a curling spine. The camera took it all in, following the ornate, almost organic-looking curves of the internal stonework. As they traced the steps upwards, Tanja froze and let out a tiny whimper that only just caught Nadine’s ear.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quivering.

Tanja was shaking like a leaf, her skin as pale as snow, her finger raised slowly, her eyes wide, her expression gaunt. Nadine, and soon Christopher, followed her outstretched digit and found themselves equally mortified. Sitting over the banister, skin as pale as the moonlight, legs crossed sultrily, wearing a dress made of black velvet that cascaded down from the mezzanine, was a woman. Her hair was as dark as the night, her arms long and slender with claw-like nails painted red to match her full, plump lips.

“Uh — guys?” Nadine whimpered, pulling on Christopher’s shirt. He turned to see that the mysterious woman was not alone. Two others of similar description now stood on the stairs, forming the points of a triangle about them. The moonlight trickled in and glistened off the long, fang-like teeth of the lady on the banister, and Tanja caught it all on camera until the JVC fell to the floor and spat out a mess of tape.

Tanja and Nadine screamed as icy hands covered their mouths and dragged them back into the shadow, where the two other mysterious women held them firm.

“Let them go!” Christopher screamed, sounding far less bold and confident than he had hoped.

The woman spoke, her voice melodic and soft, but nonetheless menacing. “Look, ladies, someone has wandered so willingly into our lair.”

“Some new prey,” spoke the one who held Nadine.

“It has been too long,” mewled the other, baring her fangs.

The banister woman slipped off the stone teeth and floated a dozen feet downward, as though sinking in liquid darkness. She landed with the soft clack of her high heels on stone, only a yard from where Christopher stood.

“What shall we do with you?” she purred, running her index finger softly under Chris’s chin. “And your friends?”

“Let — let them go!” he whimpered as she walked behind him, her hand on his shoulder.

“And what will you give me in return — ” she stroked his cheek, “you handsome, young man?”

“I — ”

“Would you give yourself?” she asked, slinking back into the shadows, her dress following behind like a cape made of the night sky.

“Christopher! No!” Nadine screamed out, breaking free of her captor's grip for a short, futile moment.

Her captor bore her teeth and threatened to bite down on Nadine’s neck. “We should turn them!” she hissed.

The banister woman raised her hand in refute and glared at Christopher expectantly.

“I will — ”

“You will what?”

“I will give myself, for them. Just don’t hurt them.”

The mysterious woman chuckled loudly, her laughter echoing in the empty, stone walls. She nodded with a coy smirk, and the two others like her twisted their cloaks over his friends and vanished into darkness.

“Oh, we won’t hurt them. You have my word… Christopher,” she mewled, running her hand over his hair. “My pet…”

She took his head in both hands and pulled him into her chest.

“Nawww…” she teased, stroking him as he felt the icy coldness of her buxom body. “Such chivalry.”

Christopher felt a tingle through his body as she held him tight like one does to a weeping lover. She withdrew and held his face between two palms. He stared into her eyes, cold and dark, but so inviting, so alluring, so desirable. As though they held all the answers to the questions he could ever ask, and even the ones he couldn’t.

“It has been so long since my last toy,” she purred seductively, her eyes drawing him closer.

He found himself lost in them, and for a few moments, he felt at peace. He felt at home.

“You belong to me now,” she whispered.

“I… belong… to you… now,” he recanted, as though in a trance.

“You seek nothing but my pleasure.” Her voice was like silk on his mind.

“I seek… nothing but… your pleasure…”

“And you will serve me, Mistress Vasilia, forever, as your thrall.” She spoke nothing but comforting truth, the only truth he wanted to hear.

“And… I will serve… you… Mistress Vasilia… forever… as your thrall…” he repeated, his voice devoid of enunciation or emotion.

He blinked, and found himself standing before her, completely naked. Time had shifted, had somehow moved faster than he had noticed. His body shivered from the cold interior of the castle. The woman, Mistress Vasilia, stood before him, still draped in black velvet. Candlelight illuminated her properly for the first time, and Chris could not help but notice how seductive the vixen was. Her legs were long and slender, her skin looked as soft and inviting as a warm summer night, and her hair cascaded down her pale body like an obsidian waterfall. She smiled, as if she knew his thoughts.

“Who do you serve?” she asked, stepping forward.

He went to proclaim ‘nobody!’, but instead the words “You, Mistress Vasilia,” slipped from his lips.

“Then kneel,” she instructed.

It was as though she were a puppeteer, and he, the marionette, whose strings were tugged and pulled by an invisible hand. He knelt before her and stared at her. He could feel nothing but reverence for her. He felt a pang of embarrassment, being naked before a stranger.

“You wish to please me?” she purred, stroking his cheek once more.

‘No!’ he begged to say, but instead, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Then please me…”

One hand pulled her velvet dress to the side, the other pulled him forward, placing his face between her thighs. The smell of her lust overpowered him like the most fragrant perfume. He stared, with nothing but utter arousal and desire, at her femininity, and delicately slipped his tongue inside her perfect folds. She moaned softly.

“Oh, how I have missed this! If only more mortals like you had stumbled so willingly into my lair!”

“Mmphm — ” he groaned, his hands gripping her round backside, driving his tongue further into her heat.

“Good boy…” she gasped, throwing her head back. “Very good boy.”

Her chest was already heaving, rising and falling. Christopher’s eyes darted about, watching her body shudder and twitch at his tantalizing touch. A mirror, set against the wall, reflected his true doings; he was alone. She bore no reflection. A flicker of realization beset him, followed by a lack of care. Her pleasure was all that mattered.

He fixated on her bud, teasing it in delicate, closing circles.

“Owhh, you are… quite the catch…” she gasped, her fingers gripping his hair and holding him firm.

The compliment made him shiver in delight. His nose smothered against her skin, his mouth trying its best to nestle itself between her ice-cold, but undeniably hot, folds. She kicked her leg up, mounting her thigh on his shoulder and resting her foot on the furniture behind him. The louder she moaned, the more she ground herself against his face, the more desperate her cries became, the more Christopher became aroused. His manhood stood erect, jutting upward from his folded legs, and he was surprised by it. Surprised by the power that this woman, this vampire, this Mistress Vasilia had over him. A hypnosis, a trance, an enchantment. Surprised by how little he cared about that, and how much he cared about drinking every droplet of her cum.

His fingers clenched at her ass, pulling her into him with vigor and passion and desire and lust. It was as though her pleasure was his. The more she moaned, the better he felt.

“Oh, my pet, oh do not stop. Do not dare!” she hollered. He could hear her elated screams echo through the corridors, and a quiet part of him wondered if Nadine and Tanja, wherever they were, could hear her.

Her legs began to give out, she shivered and screamed. Her fingers tightened on his hair as she let out a series of progressively louder screams that shook him to his core. He tasted her climax as it trickled onto his tongue, and she pushed him away when it became too much. She gasped, her breasts rising and falling as she panted in the after throes of orgasm.

“Ladies?!” she called out.

Doors on either side of the room sprung open a moment later, and the two other vampires who had taken Nadine and Tanja emerged, appearing just as sultry and aroused as Mistress Vasilia did. In their wake, two others, with skin like porcelain and fangs glistening in the moonlight as it poured in through the window. One had curly, dark hair, the other, deep red. He knew them, though they had been changed.

“Nadine?!” he gasped, “Tanja?!”

Mistress Vasilia purred, “He is ready. Have your way with him, but do not allow him to expire. I wish to keep him for a long, long time…”

Please do take a glance at my profile for many other stories for your sultry indulgements.

Enjoy, Mel 💋