tagErotic HorrorHeart's Blood

Heart's Blood


Heavy bass thrummed through Victor's body, mixing with the alcohol and bringing the whole world into sharp focus. He thought that he'd like to stay like this, right here, forever. To simply be lost in the music, letting it set his soul on fire while his mind followed it to another world... yes, this was heaven.

He didn't dance, though. He's never felt comfortable. Despite being handsome, fit and totally in love with music, he'd simply never acquired the taste for it. Sometimes with enough to drink and a good enough DJ, he might get out on the dance floor, but only when he was absolutely sure that he was not going to remember it the next day. Everyone else was doing it, but he was still... well... embarrassed.

So instead he hung out near the edge of the dance floor, watching as hot bodies swirled and writhed out in front of him. The air was thick with moisture and smoke, lending a kind of surreal haze that the lights only server to compliment, giving the dancers an ethereal quality.

This was not necessarily the way most people would spend the day before Valentine's, but he didn't have the worries right now that a lot of people did. With no girlfriend to speak of, and no pressing desire to find another, he was neither out looking for a last minute gift nor wallowing in self-pity. He was just enjoying the music.

"Hmm, hey there." A voice, low and smoky and full of promise, floated up out of the noise behind him. With the voice came hands, soft and feminine and placing themselves on his shoulders.

"Uhhh, hey." Unfortunately flirting, like dancing, was something that Victor was not very good at either.

"Not out dancing?"

He turned around to try and catch a glimpse of this person, but the hands held him surprisingly still. All he knew of her was that voice, those hands, and the heat of a slim body pressing itself up against his back.

"No, I, uhhh, prefer it here." He smiled weakly, but of course the woman couldn't see it.

He felt her mouth close to his neck, her breath tickling the skin around his shoulders and making little goosebumps rise all along them.

"Ah. You like to watch, then?" A light laugh seemed to mingle with the smoke in the air, meandering in a graceful arch that sent it down his throat, along with hints of vanilla and spice.

"No, it's not... I mean... I, umm..."

"It's okay." Those hands, those soft, wonderful hands, started to massage his shoulders. It was a light touch, like the laugh, like the whispered words, but it sent shivers all across his body. If he weren't incapacitated by that same touch, he would have... well he didn't know what he would have done. "I know what you're doing. You're here for the music."

"Oh, yes!" He smiled, surprised that she understood so well.

For a moment or two, they didn't say anything. Despite the music, he could almost hear her breath, the crinkle of his shirt as she massaged him, and the soft sound of her shifting her weight. He certainly felt the first one, as each of her breaths pressed what must be her breasts up against the small of his back.

As he felt himself responding to her, to her closeness, to her heat, he also felt himself growing a little uncertain. What if he bored her? Would she leave? He decided to fill the space with some more words. "Do you... I mean, what do you come here for?"

"Me? Oh, that's easy." Her tongue barely touched his earlobe, and Victor felt himself jerk in response to the feeling. It wasn't unpleasant, just unexpected, and it sent lightning bolts of sensation arrowing straight for his groin. "The men."

"The... the men?"

"Yes, the men. This place is usual so full of hot... tasty men."

Victor felt, rather than heard, the woman lick her lips. It was a slow, sensual motion that made him lick his own in response.

"Like you."

"Like me?" He'd been called many things before, but he didn't think tasty was one of them. Of course, none of his girlfriends ever stuck around long enough to find out.

"Ya. Like you."

Then teeth were on his ear. The touch was ginger, delicate, but the hardness of her nibble contrasted strongly with the gentle touch of her hands. He felt himself tugging a little against her grip again, wanting to turn around, wanting to... to what?

Kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her. Oh, did he ever.

"I... umm... thank-you?" It was a little lame, but somehow with her teeth kneading the flesh of his ear he wasn't as concerned about that anymore. No one who wanted to ditch him would be doing that, would they? Would they? The spiciness of her scent, mixed with the smoke and that vodka he'd been drinking was making his head spin. "What's... you know... your name?"

"Mmm, he moves quickly." There was a faint hint of mocking in the tone, but Victor let it slide. Somehow, with soft fingertips now working their way under his shirt to his biceps, he didn't feel like being annoyed. "I'm Anya."

"Oh... that's... that's beautiful." Maybe it was a good thing that she was behind him, because then she couldn't see the goofy smile on his face. "I'm Victor."

"Hi Victor."

"H-" Victor jerked in surprise as those hands moved amazingly quickly down his body. It seemed like one moment they were caressing his chest and the next they were working their way into his pants. "Hi Anya."

"Do you want to get out of here?" A long, heavy pause, filled with vanilla and heat. "Victor?"

"Sure... sure. Hell ya."


Then the hands were out of his pants and he was spinning. Spinning? The room spun around him, full of smoke and lights, before he realized that Anya had twirled him around in one deft gesture. He was afraid he might continue spinning until he fell down, utterly embarrassing himself in front of this blessedly forward woman, but then she caught him.

It was the first time he'd seen her, and whilehe'd been responding to her touch, he responded viscerally to her appearance. Smokey eyes, pouty lips and luscious breasts started out a body that made him weak in the knees just from looking. She had a tight halter top on, which was more of a bra really, and leather pants that were so tight they seemed almost indecent. He could see every delightful curve of her legs, and thought he could even see the outline of her pussy against the taut material.

The only other thing she wore was a collar, which seemed a little at odds with the rest of her look, but not at all out of place. It was metal and fit snugly against her neck, the only adornment being the delicate filigree of a snake that chased itself all the way around her throat. Beyond that, her slight arms, flat tummy and delectable bronze skin were all on display before him.

He knew he was staring, indecently so, but she was staring back at him with similar intensity. The look in her eyes, which after some consideration were an entrancing violet, was almost as arousing as her body. There was something there... a kind of hunger that made him flush.

"Mmm, exquisite." She licked her lips again, and Victor thought his legs were going to buckle.

"So, umm... where...?"

"My place. Come one." She winked, and then they were off.

For a moment, Victor fought to keep up with Anya. She seemed to slip through the crowd with supernatural ease, navigating her way through groping couples and drunken groups as if they weren't even there. Victor, on the other hand, was having trouble putting one foot in front of the other at this point, let alone navigating a crowded floor. He felt dizzy and a little light-headed, probably from all that vodka, and he wondered if he would even be able to perform what was probably on Anya's mind, and definitely on his own.

Just when he thought he'd lost her, soft hands appeared out of the semi-darkness and grasped his wrists. Her face, smiling and winking, appeared a moment later.

"Come on."

Guided by Anya's confident grip, the rest of the way out of the club was easier. Victor imagined that they were like smoke, fitting through unseen nooks and crannies in the crowd with the greatest of ease. Of course, if he had been smoke, then the stiffness in his pants which made walking just that much harder wouldn't be there, and that would be a shame.

The cold air hit Victor like a hammer. He gasped as winter asserted its grip on his body, turning his breath to steam and instantly chilling his skin. He wondered how Anya could possibly feel, wearing next to nothing, but she seemed unaffected.

"Should we take my car?" He followed her, bemused and now hanging back a little. Ostensibly it was because he was still unstable from the alcohol, but really he loved watching the way her ass moved in those incredible pants.


Maybe he should have been looking where they were going, because then a motorcycle helmet came flying out of the night and threatened to knock him off his feet. He caught it at the last moment, and look at her in surprise. She was going to ride a bike, in this weather, wearing that?

"Well?" Her voice still had that smoky quality to it, even from behind the helmet. He didn't know when it happened, but she was already on the bike, looking impatient despite the fact that he couldn't see her face.

"Coming." Victor smiled to himself, and clumsily put the helmet on. He'd never been on a motorbike before, let alone a sleek rocket like the one she looked to be riding, so he was a bit worried how he was going to do. Evidently this showed through, because as he got in range those hands guided him again.

"Here, sit here." She slid him onto the seat behind her, and he wondered briefly if this was how he was supposed to sit. His groin was pressed into the luscious crack of her ass, so that every shift, every movement sent thrums of electricity through his body. His legs were pressed against hers too, so he could feel her strong muscles through the thin layers of cloth and leather which separated them. "Now hold on to me."

Gingerly, he put his hands on her waist. He had to fight to keep from shuddering in pleasure at the feel of her skin beneath his hands. She was surprisingly warm given the temperature, and incredibly smooth under his fingers. His hands nearly encircled her entire waist, and he was surprised by how petite she was; having felt her strength.

Then she laughed. It was a throaty, almost sensual laugh, but it still made Victor move as if to pull away from her. Was she laughing at him?

"You know what would be fun?"


"Put your hands... here." She reached down and slid his hands up her body. Victor was helpless to do anything but let her caress herself with his hands, so incredible was the feeling of her body against his.

Then he felt leather on his hands, but not under them. The material fit snugly over his fingers and knuckles until he realized that he was cupping her bare breasts underneath her halter. His eyes widened at the feel of them, soft and malleable and delightful to fondle and caress. Her nipples were under his index fingers, and when he pressed on them he felt them harden in response.

There was also a strangely cold feeling on his right hand, but after a moment he recognized this as a nipple piercing.

"Mmmm... that's good. Ready?"

"Ready?" Victor wasn't sure what he was ready for.


It seemed instantaneous, the jump from sitting on a quiescent bike with her breasts cupped in his hands to blazing through mostly empty streets. He felt his grip tighten at the initial burst of speed, but rather than crying out in pain she moaned from the sensation. That made him stir, his pants bulging against her ass and bringing new levels of excitement to this already surreal ride.

Victor didn't know how long it lasted, he wasn't really paying attention. Streetlights blurred together, buildings all but disappeared and it felt like they were flying. They ran a number of reds, missing collisions with other vehicles by mere inches, but he didn't care. Here she was, so strong yet so supple under his hands, and that was all that he was aware of.

He knew corners by the feel of her body shifting, her legs flexing to change speeds and her torso leaning to keep them from toppling over. He knew straightaways by the exhilaration of speed, and throughout it all there were her breasts beneath his hands.

"We're here."

It seemed too sudden. One moment they were blazing through the city, the next they were stopped. Victor swayed from the change, and felt almost physically weaker as their intimate contact ended and she stood in front of him. Once again he found himself drinking her in with his eyes, trying to keep all of the incredible details of her in his spinning mind at once.


"Come one." She took his hand and they were running.

He didn't know how stayed upright, running through doors almost too fast for them to be unlocked, and up stairs with a giddy abandon. Victor felt himself pulled along magnetically, his hand attached to hers, his eyes attached to her body.

Then they were in her apartment. At least, he hoped it was hers, but at this point he didn't really care. After the club, after the ride, even after the exhilaration of running, he didn't think he would care if someone walked in on them making love. He wanted her. He wanted her now.

"Nice..." He smiled as he followed her into what turned out to be a spacious studio apartment. The ceiling reached high up, into darkness where it seemed no light could penetrate, and the room seemed to go on in all directions as far as the eye could see. He knew, of course, that it was only his eyes fooling him, and the vodka fooling his eyes.


Then he was on the bed, with her hot lips blazing fire against his and her body a live wire in his hands. He didn't know how he got there, only that he never wanted to leave. She was straddling him, her hips holding him tightly while she pressed herself against him in frightening passion. Her hands worked frantically at his shirt, untucking it from his pants and for a moment not quite getting it over his head.

With a rip the shirt was gone, and with another so were his pants. He gasped at the suddenness of it, realizing that they were both naked and he couldn't even remember her getting undressed.

"Mmmm... look at that." She glanced down at his cock, hard and throbbing from all the teasing she'd been giving him, and licked those delectable lips again.

Victor, on the other hand, was speechless with the beauty of her. Unlike when she was clothed, there was a feral quality to her now, a wildness that he should have expected after the motor bike. But it only served to heighten her, to bring flavor to the incredible feast that was her body. From the perfectly shaped nipples, one with a little skull piercing, to her wet and ready pussy, Victor couldn't believe how lucky he'd gotten to meet her tonight.

"Wait, what about prot..." He didn't manage to even finish the word when she plunged onto him, eliciting a primal cry of pleasure from both of them.

She was tight, gripping him like a glove and surrounding him with mind bending sensation. Despite that, there was enough wetness for her to slide down onto him easily, taking his whole member into her without even a second thought.

While it was a bit rushed for his first real sexual experience, Victor had no complaints whatsoever. He fell backwards onto the pillowy softness of the bed, unable to do anything but watch as she rode him.

His eyes, and hands, followed the movement and curves of her body with hungry intent. From the whipping of her hips to the rhythmic bounce of her oh-so-delightful breasts, he was caught.

His greatest fear had once been that he would come too fast in a moment like this, ruining it before it could go to its natural conclusion, but he didn't seem to be in danger of doing that. She seemed to know exactly what to do to prolong his pleasure, milking him with perfect thrusts and twirls so that he was riding just at the edge of climax without crossing over it.

He was lost, and in love. Her eyes, her hair, her wings, everything about her was perfect.


The haze that gripped his mind parted briefly, allowing him to see something that should have caused him to flee in terror, only he couldn't. His hips were trapped under hers, his chest held down gently but firmly by her hands.


"Mmmm?" She seemed not to notice, lost in the thrill of the moment, lost in the incredible ride she was taking him on.

"You... you have wings?" Fear, something Victor hadn't yet associated with this night, started to settle in the pit of his stomach. These weren't some display conveniently located behind her, or some trick of the light. They looked like they really belonged to her, moving and twitching in the half light in perfect time to her body. They were leathery, huge, and completely out of place.

"Oh... yes." She smiled, but where once there were perfect white teeth there were now perfect white fangs. Sharp and dangerous. Victor shuddered to think that he'd had his tongue in that mouth.

This was not going right. He needed to get out... but he couldn't. She held him fast. And what was worse, he was still rock hard within her, his cock dancing in perfect tune to her moist pussy.

"What... what are you?"

Now horns... how hadn't he seen those before? Starting at her forehead and spiraling tightly along the side of her head, they glowed a strange ivory against her dark hair. And, after all of it, the tail that also peaked up above her shoulders hardly surprised him.

"Don't speak..." She lifted one hand from his chest, but he still couldn't budge. Her arm felt like it was made of iron, pinning him well and truly against the bed. The free hand came up and laid one delicate, taloned finger against his lips.

"Mmmf?!" He wanted to shout... surely someone would hear him. But no sound came out.

Then, frighteningly, he felt himself reaching climax. He began to twitch and throb inside her, and he felt like he was going to burst. The feeling was so much more intense than what he experienced on his own that, for a moment, he forgot about the wings, the horns, the fangs, the tail and the talons.

"Now... before you go." Her voice, once smoky and alluring, was now cold and dark. Her eyes were still filled with light and life, but there was something cruel in them now. "I need something from you..."


"Yes, in fact. Your heart."

Pleasure, intense and brutal and climactic, caused Victor to spasm beneath Anya's writhing body. He spent himself inside her, pumping what felt like all of the fluids inside him into the tight darkness of her body.

Pain, intense and brutal and final, caused Victor to spasm beneath Anya's writhing body. The hand on his chest angled its talons down and he felt more pain than he ever had as they sliced through his flesh like butter. Bone and muscle, it was all the same to her, and he found himself screaming against her finger, despite the fact that no sound came out.

"Mmm... thank-you."

With fear in his gut, pleasure in his crotch and pain in his chest, Victor's last sight was of the grin on Anya's face as she lifted his still-beating heart out of his rib cage.


"We're here."

Vasily smiled as Anya climbed off her bike and looked at him, promised pleasure dancing in her eyes. Behind her, barely seen against her entrancing beauty, was a rundown three-story apartment building. The only lights were in an apartment on the top floor, and the place looked abandoned. However, Vasily only had eyes for the beautiful woman before him.

"Come on. Shall we run?"

"Oh, I think so." Vasily laughed in pleasure as they held hands and ran. She pushed easily through the doors and bounded up the stairs two at a time, almost dragging him upwards with her girlish exuberance.

The last door was locked, and it lead into the apartment with the light. It was a studio apartment, huge and cave-like, with a path illuminated by candles leading to a huge canopy bed.

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byHelenofTroy© 3 comments/ 15791 views/ 1 favorites

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