Camilla

This is the latest contribution in my effort to post at least one story in every Literotica category. Obviously it's a work of fiction for which I hold the copyright and which may not be reposted in any other forum. As usual all the characters are over 18. Thank you to all my patient followers. As always votes, comments and feedback are welcome.

Camilla

Camilla woke just after sunset and immediately felt the violent pangs of hunger. She had delayed as long as possible but knew she would now have to feed or suffer excruciating withdrawal. She rose and drew back the curtains to savour the last light of the day. There was no danger with the sun already dipped below the ridgeline. That was one of the great fallacies of vampirism: that daylight was deadly. It wasn't the light itself, it was the UVB radiation from direct sunrays triggering Vitamin D production in the skin. Even with the benefit of modern scientific techniques and the millions her kind had poured into research, there was still no explanation why excess vitamin D was so deadly to those infected with the vampire virus. Despite what popular fiction would have people believe, Camilla knew that accidental exposure wouldn't make her burst into flame and crumble to ash. But it would weaken her, and prolonged exposure could indeed kill any vampire.

She sighed to herself. Bram Stoker, and hundreds of schlock movie producers since, had a lot to answer for in turning the fact of vampirism into a fantastical myth -- most of it complete nonsense. All that rubbish about silver bullets and wooden stakes; and not having a reflection; and having to sleep in a coffin filled with Transylvanian soil -- all of it pure nonsense.

After two decades of infection Camilla understood very well the bare truths about being a vampire -- and they were bizarre enough: to survive her kind had to feed on blood, preferably human; they could not allow themselves to be exposed to unfiltered sunlight -- so they chose to live by night and sleep by day; and once infected they did not age. All very well if you were infected while young and healthy -- not so good if you were infected at age 80 and racked by rheumatism.

Though they did not grow older, and although the virus bestowed immunity from all known human diseases, it was also a fallacy that vampires lived forever. Because vampires were just as susceptible as anyone else to extreme bodily trauma -- like accidents, war wounds, explosions and, yes, beheading.

There was one other curious aspect of her non-human kind that research couldn't explain: the ability to control humans by thought-power alone. In fact, it was the one feature of being "un-dead" that Camilla rather enjoyed.

She took a last look at the fading twilight and focussed on her need to feed. She left her room and descended naked to the so-called dungeon. It was really just the basement of their large city mansion, but Joseph liked to preserve the traditions of his ancient family home in France -- the one he'd left 180 years before. Having been born in the 19^th century he was still charmingly in awe of 21^st century technologies. And a certain childish addiction to 1960's horror movies had led him to fit out his "dungeon" like some cheap movie set; complete with stone slabs and burning torches and implements of bondage and discipline. It made Camilla angry every time she entered it. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. But he was still her maker, so had an irresistible power to control her. Not that he ever really exercised it.

Joseph was seated as usual in the oversized armchair he liked to call his "throne", naked except for the stupid black cape he habitually draped around his shoulders. Even after two decades under his power, Camilla still marvelled at his handsome face and the power of his ever-youthful body. His half-swollen prick lay benign but threatening between his thighs. His piercing eyes aroused her, as they always did, and she couldn't deny the sexual hunger for him that had never waned -- no matter how much she wished it would -- since he first deflowered her, and "re-made" her, and awoken in her a shameful sexual appetite.

Despite all his annoyances she had to concede he was also a very good provider. He smiled at her and waved one hand in a dramatic flourish toward the St Andrew's cross in the corner, where tonight's "meal" was awaiting her. As usual, it was a beautiful young woman, naked, with her arms and legs spread wide and bound to the cross. Camilla rolled her eyes at Joseph.

"You are so fucking predictable!" she sighed.

He merely smiled at her annoyance because he knew she'd enjoy this delicious morsel every bit as much as he would. But he always let her go first. Camilla felt the hunger bite deep within her, but also a stab of sexual arousal, as she examined the lithe victim with her sleek limbs, high firm breasts and shaved mound. The young woman -- girl really -- looked to be about 19 or 20, possibly even a virgin, and she was clearly terrified. Her beautiful eyes bulged above the ball-gag that was stifling her screams. Camilla hated this part -- the terror their predations invoked in their victims -- and she put a swift stop to it. She stepped up to the cross and gently placed her palm on the girl's forehead. Camilla smiled at the girl and allowed a soothing calmness to flow from her own mind into the young captive. She felt an immediate lessening of tension in the girl, her frightened eyes softened and the strangled pleading died in her throat.

Camilla had resolved long ago that she would never willingly terrify her victims -- that she would always make this bizarre practice as pleasurable as possible for them both. She smiled again at the girl and removed the ball gag. She stroked the girl's cheeks and leaned into her, pressing their naked bodies together, and kissing the now compliant young mouth. She let her own growing arousal flow into the girl and was gratified when a questing tongue curled willingly around her own.

Camilla could sense Joseph's eyes upon them. He was such a perve. He loved watching the fulfilment. But Camilla forced him from her mind, concentrating instead on the delicious feel of this young girl's body. As she kissed her she let her hands glide over the girl's flesh -- warm and taut. She cupped the pert breasts and rolled the nipples, making the girl moan into her mouth. She pressed her mound into the girl, enjoying the vibrations this caused in the young body. Camilla realised that, in truth, she and her victim were about the same age. Though in years, Camilla was actually 42, her body was still just 22 -- the age she'd been when Joseph had re-made her. She forced that distressing memory out of her mind and concentrated on preparing her victim. She let her kisses trail along the girl's jaw; she sucked on an earlobe; nipped it with her teeth and as her own hunger grew she felt the needlepoints of her fangs begin to descend. She used them to gently graze the girl's neck -- not breaking the skin, but leaving raised track marks of desire. She felt the girls hips press forward to increase the contact between their bodies, and kissed down the girl's chest to capture a hard nipple in her mouth. She sucked, licked and gently bit the nub bringing a gasp from the girl and she had to fight the desire to bite directly into the firm breast flesh. Waiting would be rewarding.

By the time she let one hand trail down the girl's belly to her sexual centre, she was already dripping. Now it was Camilla's turn to moan with pleasure. She caressed the slit, spreading the wetness over the girl's clit, teasing her there and making her hips buck. She pressed her fingertips just inside the girl, gathering the arousal and then raised her hand to the girl's mouth to share the taste in a mutual sucking kiss.

Camilla could have continued this game for hours but there was a much more pressing hunger taking control of her now. The ache to feed couldn't be ignored. She sucked one last time on the girls tongue then sank slowly to her knees till the teenager's bald mound was right before her face. She let both hands glide upward to knead the captive breasts and pinch the nipples, then buried her face between the spread legs to force her tongue into the girl's cleft. The taste was heavenly -- her purpose hellish.

She worked her tongue up and down the slit, savouring the juices. She licked and sucked the inner labia, one side then the other. She buried her tongue as deeply as she could, sucking in the girl's nectar. She attuned herself to the girls growing arousal, feeling the vibrations of her body, making them intensify. Then she focussed on her victim's clit - first with feather-light flutters of her tongue tip, which extracted a deep moan from the girl, then with purposeful laving that made the trigger point swell and lengthen till the girl was gasping and grinding her gash against Camilla's soaked face. She eased off slightly, letting the girl's pleasure plateau, making her more desperate to come, then attacked the swollen bud again, pushing her toward the peak -- but again eased off, making the girl moan and mumble with desperate pleas for release.

Finally, Camilla could wait no longer. As she twisted the girl's nipple with her left hand, she slid three fingers of her right into the girl's cunt and sucked almost viciously on the engorged clit. The girl screamed in ecstasy and bucked hard against Camilla's face as crashing waves of orgasm swept through her. Camilla's eyes swept up the girl's heaving body to fix on the desperate eyes piercing down.

And then she struck.

The girl screamed in ecstatic pain and pleasure as Camilla's fangs pierced the blood engorged flesh on either side of her clit. Camilla's mouth plastered itself to the girl's clenching cunt, sucking deeply on the rush of blood and cum juice that streamed from her. Camilla moaned deep in her throat as her body reacted to the feeding. Her heart surged and she felt herself flushing with intense vigour. This was what made it all worthwhile, the only real compensation for the vile life she was forced to live: this all too brief but ecstatic sensation of sublime pleasure and power.

There was no blood like orgasm blood.

Afterward, she draped herself in Joseph's armchair and watched as he too knelt and fed on the now semi-conscious teen. He never really cared about his victims' pleasure. He was selfish in that way. Camilla watched the girl, carefully gauging the optimal time to intervene -- then called out imperiously: "That's enough!"

As usual, Joseph was reluctant to stop but complied with Camilla's wishes. It had been years since she had let him re-make someone. Although, technically, he was Camilla's "dark lord and master" -- he generally complied with her wishes when it came to their victims. He would let them live and recover and release them, weakened, but with no memory of where they had been and what had happened during the long hours of their captivity.

As usual, after he'd fed, Joseph's cock was engorged and standing proudly erect. Camilla knew he would badly want to fuck her now. And she was usually not averse to the idea -- but not yet, not tonight. She rose and walked over to him and enfolded his phallus in her small white hands. She squeezed a moan from him but avoided his embrace.

"No," she said. "Not tonight."

A dark scowl infused his face. "You're going to see him again, aren't you?" He spat the question. A fleeting look of pain clouded her eyes and she did not answer him. "You're pathetic," he sneered. "You know you could have him forever if you want. Just fucking re-make him -- and you can live for eternity in your pathetic little romance."

Camilla's eyes hardened and she released his cock.

"Never!" she hissed. "I'll never do to him what you've done to me." And with that she took one last look at their slowly reviving victim and strode out of the dungeon.

*

Joseph felt a flash of deep anger as he watched Camilla walk away. Her lustrous hair shone in the flame light, falling in a honey-coloured swathe almost to her bottom. And what a bottom! Even after all these years the sight of her perfect arse made him ache for her.

When the door slammed behind her he threw himself into his armchair and tried to push her from his mind, but smirked at his own inability to do so. They had been together for two decades now and he had never tired of her. Over the past two centuries he had re-made and discarded dozens of women -- unleashing them on the world to pursue their own eternal lives. And every one of them had been more than grateful for their transformation.

But not Camilla. The bitch. Despite the pleasures, powers and abundant riches he had bestowed on her she still clung to her desire to be human. It was, of course, an impossibility. There was no going back. For vampires there was only the future - and every decade or so they had to relocate and re-make their identities as well. It was too dangerous to stay for too long in one place or to keep the same names. People would inevitably notice their longevity. Not to mention the dangers of feeding from the one trough for too long. But Camilla would not give up this house and this city. They had other homes, of course: equally sumptuous houses in Europe and Asia and North America, which they visited on a semi-regular basis. But it was always here that they ended up. He could always command her to abandon her hometown -- he was her maker after all, so she would be incapable of defying his commands, but he never did.

Because she also held power over him.

Fortunately, she didn't know this -- not fully, anyway. And she didn't know the truth behind her re-making. He'd always told her she'd been a random victim of his hunger. She'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the truth was he'd been stalking her for months. Her university was a regular haunt for him. He'd even sat in on some night classes as a less conspicuous way to pick out victims. And that's where he'd first seen her.

She was simply the most beautiful woman in the room. Everything about her was perfection: her eyes, her hair, her skin and -- oh fuck yes -- her body. She was above average in height -- about five feet ten he guessed -- with slim hips but bigger than average breasts. He'd been awe-struck. But it wasn't just her looks. He'd had many equally beautiful women over the long decades - it was her beautiful nature as well. Even from across the room he could sense her kindness and generosity of spirit. That sort of thing would normally make him sneer. But in her it was perfection. He followed her home that night and, as best he could, he stalked her for the next few weeks. It soon became clear she was doing mostly night classes as she worked part time in a disability hostel as well. It also became clear that she was religious -- spending her Saturday and Sunday nights with a fellowship group at her church.

But most alarming to Joseph was that she had a steady boyfriend. She spent almost all her spare time in his company. They attended church meetings together and they ate together whenever they could. But she never spent the night with him, making Joseph surmise that she was almost certainly a virgin.

For a vampire, she could not have been a more perfect target. Yet Joseph felt an annoying unwillingness to act. He could have taken her -- and re-made her -- any time he wished. So his reluctance to do so was puzzling. He took others in the meantime of course, fed on them, and discarded them -- some dead, some alive but totally disoriented. Yet he couldn't bring himself to take her. She set up a turmoil in his mind that he hated. And he hated her for making him feel weak and irresolute. But still he desisted.

In the end the decision was made for him when he followed her to a bar one night to discover she was attending a hens' party, and that she was the guest of honour. That was the night he finally swooped.

Now, twenty years later, she still had the power to make him feel frustrated and ...what? Empty? Yes, there was still an emptiness he knew only she could fill and it maddened him when she continually held the most important part of herself back. He thumped his fists on the arms of the chair. His anger reminded him of his arousal. His cock was still engorged against his thigh and he couldn't wait for her return.

He remembered their latest victim and looked across to where she still hung, limp and dazed, on the St Andrews cross. His eyes blazed at the sight of her naked body -- so young, so vulnerable. He pushed out of the chair and strode over to her. He lifted her face to see she was still semi-conscious. He kissed her roughly but deeply, allowing his own desire to reanimate her body. She moaned deeply and opened her eyes. They slowly focussing on his eyes and then quickly reflecting his lust. His cock was pressed against her lower belly and he ground his hips against her for a moment before reaching down to unsnap the cuffs that bound her ankles. Then he lifted her legs to cradle one each in the crook of his arms. He pulled her forward slightly tilting her pelvis upwards then manoeuvred his hips till his cockhead was poised at the opening of her still-moist cunt. He fixed her gaze again then, with a snarl, he thrust his hips forward burying himself deep inside her. She let out a scream as he pierced her to the core. But her wails were very soon pleasurable moans as he began a deep rhythmic fucking that made their bodies slap together and sparked an arousal in her which was other-worldly. Joseph luxuriated in his power over this helpless victim and the excitement he was generating in her. He dipped his head and allowed one fang to pierce her nipple she wailed again yet the nub swelled even more and stiffened under his sucking. He savoured the taste of her blood and it made his arousal surge. His cock expanded inside her, making her growl with excitement. He pounded her for long minutes, both of them grunting and gasping, till sweat was pouring down her chest, mingling with the trickle of blood from her ravaged nipple. Their mutual passion built suddenly to the tipping point, when her cunt spasmed around his straining cock and his balls bunched to disgorge their hot load of cum deep inside her.

*

Camilla drove carefully through the city. She wished sometimes that vampires really could turn themselves into bats or wolves or whatever the current horror fad favoured. It would make travel so much easier. As it was, vampires were subject to the same wearisome transport problems as humans. But her kind had to be so much more careful when travelling. They couldn't afford to be stopped for traffic violations, or have accidents that might lead to blood tests and invasive surgical procedures. They could only continue to live in this world because humans believed their kind to be a ghoulish myth. In fact, vampires had to be model citizens in every way -- apart from the whole ripping out people's throats and drinking their blood thing. Vampires were probably the most law-abiding people around. The irony wasn't lost on Camilla.

She parked as close as she dared to Benjamin's house and approached on foot. It was well after midnight so foot traffic was likely to be minimal, but vampires didn't survive as long as they did without being very careful. As she approached the generic 90s bungalow she felt her pulse begin to race and an urgent swelling in her heart. She paused at the gate. Just beyond these walls was the man she loved more than life itself. She knew these visits were pointless and only added to her long-standing grief. But for the short while they lasted she was transported back to a better time, when their mutual love was a reality.

She slipped through the gate and then, standing under his bedroom window, she cast her senses into the house, feeling for movement, or noise or any kind of activity. Nothing. She smiled, closed her eyes and summoned him. She felt his response almost immediately. Then standing in the shadows she waited patiently till she heard the front door click open.