Imogen and the Immortal

'Would that you could smell your scent as I do,' he told her gruffly. 'The blood we spilt between your legs is a greater torment than you know. Already my hunger grows, the desires of the flesh and of the vampire.'

He chuckled at her expression and stepped closer, and Imogen seemed to come alive again. She drew the silken nightgown down to cover herself, then scrambled from the couch before he could lay a hand on her. She stood behind the divan, the instinct of flight warring with the knowledge of how easily he'd captured her before. There was nothing in the room with which to fight him, nothing but the heavy candelabra, and she found that she had strength left, after all, as she grabbed one of the tall stands, the candles toppling from their sconces as she tried to heft the object before her.

It was heavier than she'd expected, despite the hollowness of the silver. She held it like a trident pointed at the creature, her mouth set in a grim line of determination. He would not have her again! Between her legs, she felt the wetness of his seed slide from her opening, to trail slowly down her thighs. Her body shook with fear and revulsion as he stepped closer, amusement in the dark, evil eyes.

'Stay back, vile thing!' she tried to shout, but her voice broke on the last word, her arms trembling as she swung the candelabra in a wide arc. 'I hold silver! You cannot touch me!'

'Oh, poor misguided girl,' the creature laughed. 'You've been listening to fairy-tales.' Suddenly one of those giant hands seized the candelabra, wrenching it from her grip, and with a flick of its wrist the silver stand flew across the room to slam into the far wall. 'I will show you the truth of it.'

'No!' she screamed, for he had claimed her wrist again. With no effort at all, he dragged her to the corner of the room, shoving her forward so that she came to stand in front of the covered mirror. She turned to face him, but his rough hands spun her around with ease.

'Be still,' he bade her gruffly, and all impulse of fight or flight fled from her body at the strange power of his command. She felt him move to stand behind her, and though her mind screamed at her to run, to flee, or to at least fight him with every ounce of her strength, still she remained unmoving as he stepped closer. She felt the sharp point of his nail brushing against her buttocks as he drew a claw through the fabric of her garment. It rent from the small of her back to its hem, her pale derriere offering a tempting glimpse through the parting in the white folds.

Imogen trembled, cold and afraid as she felt it gripping her hip. The other hand came around to enfold her breast in its grip, roughly pawing at her youthful flesh. She felt a nudge against her bottom, and she sobbed in fear, but the creature pressed against her a so that she bent forward a little. His grotesque manhood slid down to the opening it sought, finding her womanhood once more and slamming brutally into her, so that she surged forward with the force of it, grunting as he did, his terrible mouth held close to her ear.

'You see, Imogen,' he murmured in her ear, 'You have been deceived. Silver cannot harm us. And holy water is no more protection than was the barrier of your virginity through which I plunged so deliciously.' Her body screamed at the roughness of his entrance, but she did not cry out this time, sobbing only softly as she felt the creature begin to withdraw again. From his earlier brutality, she knew now his return was inevitable. Slowly, inch by inch, he took himself from her, allowing her body to savour the small comfort of that thick length being removed.

The hand at her breast dropped to the hem of her gown and lifted the fabric to her waist, exposing her lower half. 'And another thing,' he told her, and he began to trail his long, dark tongue from the shell of her ear, to her neck, to the ridge of her collarbone. She shivered. Before them, the sheet that covered the tall, gilt-framed mirror suddenly fell away. In its reflection, she had a moment to take in her long, pale legs, a smear of silvery seed between them, before she noticed the immense bulk of the monster behind her, his face twisted into a savage grin as he took her by the hips.

Unable to turn her gaze from the mirror, she watched as that terrible cock sought her entrance again. In her peripheral vision, she saw the horror on her blanched face as the head of the vampire's member nudged her lips apart, then thrust up into her as deeply as it could go. 'That old tale about vampires having no reflection?' he growled in her ear, almost pulling out of her completely before slamming powerfully back into her. 'A tale, and no more,' he informed her, his voice thick with lust as he rammed into her.

His nails dug into the back of her left thigh, and he grasped her tightly, forcing her leg up so that it folded at the knee, her weight resting on one leg. They watched together --he with animalistic excitement, she with unspeakable horror- as he held her body up and penetrated her from an angle, and in the mirror's reflection she could see clearly every detail of her own defilement as that monstrous length sank into her tight passage. The lips of her sex were pulled taut around the thick organ, and she gasped in terrible wonder that such a thing could fit within her.

The angle of his rough penetration brushed powerfully against some point of pleasure inside her. He fucked her hard, grunting with every thrust, then seized one of her breasts and lifted it that he might suck on it, his neck pressed tightly to her own as his face bent over her shoulder to that pale orb of flesh. Imogen grunted with the force of his thrusts, a sound of discomfort at first, but as he fondled her and sucked on her, and rammed up into her depths, she began to moan with a need of her own.

'Stop,' she begged, denying her response, her eyes closing tightly to keep from seeing the flush of her cheeks, the lusty parting of her lips. 'Don't!' she begged, sensing the building of some hitherto unknown wave within her. But her pleading was no longer directed at him; instead she tried desperately to turn herself away from that strange, unbearable anticipation building inside her. Harder and deeper the monster drove his length into her slick warmth, and the sound of his beastly gasps in her ear seemed to stoke that primal flame within her.

He released her leg, his claw reaching for her other breast, so that he held both in his terrible hands, pinching the flesh as his tongue and teeth sent shocks rippling through her. Squeezing hard on her nipples, he gave one long, deep final thrust, and he spewed his climax again within her. Only this time, she joined him, and when he gave a long, predatory growl in her ear, she screamed her pleasure, her body convulsing about his manhood as her limbs quivered, a wave of pleasure such as she had never known crashing through her body. Her cry lasted beyond his own, then broke off in a wail of denial at her own wantonness. Where he rested inside her, emptying himself, she felt her body throb in desperate need to hold him there and draw him deeper, drinking in his gruesome, gushing release.

He released her, stepping back so that she felt only the wet emptiness of his departure, then without his strength holding her up she collapsed to the floor. There she lay on the frayed carpet, a pale, trembling form in the torn folds of her white nightgown, now flecked with signs of their coupling. Her auburn tresses fanned out on the floor, and she lay still, sobbing softly at what he had done to her a second time, and how her body had responded, betraying her.

Minutes passed, and she thought she heard the monster leave. She did not care. She lay unmoving, ruined, terribly aware of the wetness inside her slit that trickled out ever so slowly along the curve of her inner thigh. She could bathe a thousand times, yet she knew in that moment that she would never forget that sensation of his cold seed mixed with the warm slickness of her own pleasure.

'Get up,' he growled suddenly, but she remained motionless on the floor. He seized her by the wrist and yanked her into a sitting position, and the wide blue eyes came alive again, her terror evident as he loomed over her, large and terrible, his thick grey cock a horrifying reminder of what he had done, of what they had done.

He held out a goblet to her, and she took it with some reluctance.

'Drink,' he told her, and she would have resisted, but he repeated the command with the power of his dark compulsion, so that she brought the goblet to her lips and drained it.

'It is only wine,' he noted, though he might have told her before to allay her fears. But that was how he liked her, for the naked terror in her eyes fanned his sexual appetite as nothing had in all his years. 'You would be thirsty after that last fucking,' he mused, cruelly savoring the way she winced, 'and I need you at your best for what is to come.'

For a moment, Imogen felt only seething hatred. Not for the creature, but for herself and her naiveté. She had truly thought, after the way he'd used her twice, had forced her to join him in ecstatic release, that he would now be done with her. She grit her teeth and gave a cry of frustration and rage, flinging the goblet so that it smashed into the surface of the mirror, that silvery panel that had shown her so clearly her own depravity.

'No, it is not over,' he informed her unnecessarily, and began to laugh as she saw her eyes dart again about the room, seeking weapon or escape, anything to keep her from that painful, terrible joining of their bodies that had brought her such shameful pleasure.

She knew it was futile. She understood that she would never keep it from happening again, and yet she could not keep her body from its determined fleeing, a desperate dash for the staircase whence he'd dragged her so roughly before that first painful copulation. This time, she did not even make it to the first step.

He seized her by the back of her once-pristine garment, and it tore further easily as she strained to get away. The tattered fabric fell away and she lunged forward, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back, chuckling in her ear as she fought wildly, seeming to forget how easily he had overpowered her already.

'I said it is not over,' he repeated, and Imogen sobbed her denial, beating her fists against his chest as he turned her naked body and pressed it tightly against his own. For the first time, girl and monster stood, every inch touching, with no fabric between them. Each was aware of every part of the other's body, and Imogen trembled with revulsion even as the beast held her to him and made her feel how her closeness hardened his member.

He gripped one of her wrists, and she looked up at him, beautiful in her distress as that maw claimed her bruised lips again, his tongue once more plunging into her in a twisted parody of his cock. He forced her hand down, to where the instrument of her torment grew slowly hard again. He made her wrap her soft fingers around him as she had so willingly done when she'd thought he was Frederick.

His grip on her hand was rough, guiding her forcefully along his length as he kissed her hungrily, and she moaned in discomfort and disgust even as she felt some spark kindle again within her. His tongue explored her mouth, sometimes thrusting, sometimes demanding entwinement with her own, and something about the plunging motion made her hips start to rock with need, so that the creature laughed against her lips at her desire.

Its clawed hands slid down to her passage, still slick with the evidence of their mating. Cassius broke their kiss and knelt, his hands slipping between her legs to cup her buttocks from below. Imogen clung to his shoulders as he spread his elbows, forcing her legs to spread along with him, his nails sharp against the flesh of her bottom as his arms lifted her. She watched with horror as her spread body was brought closer to his own, his member hard, its tip glistening with the fluid of his arousal.

'Set me down,' she begged, hammering at his chest, but he was impervious to her protests. He brought her splayed form into alignment with his cold, pale member, rocking himself against her for a few moments so that the glistening tip spread along her own wet lips, to briefly prod at the nub of her pleasure. She cried out in surprise at the sensation, watching the grey length rub against her body, the precum snagging in the auburn curls of her sex.

The vampire groaned and set his head to her breast again, the monstrous face contorted with the depth of his need for her. He claimed her nipple in his maw, his saliva smeared across the rosy peak as he flicked his tongue along the tip, making her moan again as denial battled with desire.

He had taken her twice already, and still she could not prepare her body for the violation. The head of his organ touched again that most intimate of openings, and she tensed, horrified and afraid, so that her passage did not part readily around him when he thrust against her. But he held her weight in his hands and drew her tightly against him, and once the thick head had entered, the fat pillar slid inside with little effort. Imogen screamed at the tightness and the depth of the penetration, and it seemed to her she felt every ridge of every fat vein that lined that hardness. She beat against his chest again to push him away, but he held her still, marveling at how much of himself was buried within her.

He began to stride across the room, Imogen ceasing her struggle to cling once more to his shoulders. Every step he took jostled the rigid shaft buried inside her, so that she gasped and held herself immobile just to keep that weapon from driving any deeper.

Cassius felt his hunger growing. Buried within her, he twitched with a need to claim her even beyond the extent he already had. Every stride of his thick legs drove him into her, her soft warmth clutching tightly around his girth. He stopped before the far wall, pressing Imogen hard against the dark, dank stones. She winced and moaned, and he could not say whether her discomfort was due to the rough surface behind her, or the thick inhuman thing that he forced inside her.

He held her pressed into the wall for a moment, then drew back a few inches, and how he relished her cry when he thrust back into her, her body parting before his deep onslaught with a wet sound that spoke of her involuntary arousal. He rammed her steadily, drawing her towards him to meet every thrust, her breasts bouncing unhindered now with the fervor of his fucking.

He watched as she threw back her head, her eyes closed, and he heard the hitch in her hurried breathing as he rode her harder than any man ever would. The delicate hands that had only minutes before been pushing him away were suddenly clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into the thick skin as some powerful force grew again within her.

Imogen threw back her head, her eyes closed against the tumult of emotion and sensation. If she closed her eyes she need not look into its black gaze and read there his awareness of her own arousal, need not feel herself respond to the sight of the vile thing's rutting, knowing that her body drove it to such animalistic heights of passion.

She moaned as his fucking stroked again that particular place in her passage. For a few moments she lost herself to that sensation, that build-up that she had never known before this night. Something changed, the sensation of her impalement altering slightly so that she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a wicked grin.

The monster felt his lust grow as he drank in her expression. There was puzzlement there, and fear, and traces of her arousal that faded now as she felt the shift taking place. Her bright eyes dropped to where their bodies joined, and she was not surprised at the sight of that terrible thing sliding into her, his dark hair kissing her own auburn mound every time he hilted himself. She had seen the details of their coupling clearly before, in the mirror, but here was something different. At the base of his cock, that thickness she had held in her hand only minutes before seemed to be expanding.

'Let me tell you what I want, Imogen,' the creature said, his voice guttural with his aching need. 'I take you this night to satisfy more than the hungers of the flesh. I take you this night to breed you, to fill you with my seed, that you may grow heavy with my progeny.' He saw her eyes grow larger, her mouth parting in silent terror as she took in his words and watched his base grow thicker.

She did not understand what was happening to him, could not fathom what change was coming over his ghastly weapon. She knew only that she could endure no more, and so she flailed hard against him, struggling to be freed from his monstrous arms. He chuckled low, releasing one of her legs, and she pressed her freed foot hurriedly down to settle her weight on that limb. But her foot met only air, and in terror she looked down, and down, to find the floor far below.

'No!' she screamed, in disbelief, taking in the wide fan of his bat wings that had been spread since their third coupling had begun. He had fucked her even as he bore her up along the wall, so that now their heads almost brushed the darkness of the stone ceiling. 'Put me down! Please put me down!' she begged.

And in perverted acquiescence, the monster released her other leg. She would have fallen had he not driven into her then, hard and deep as he could, his chest crushing her into the wall even as his terrible member impaled her. If she released his shoulders, if he drew back his chest, she would be held aloft only by that terrible cock, and the thought of that pain made her cling to the beast in desperation and beg him to hold her again.

'Don't let me fall,' she wailed, and he grinned, resting her buttocks again on one of his giant hands. The sight of their elevation had distracted her from the thing that grew at the base of its shaft, but she looked again now, saw how is thickened into a fleshy bulb. It became a block to his penetration; he could not take her as deeply as he had before, for that muscular orb grew too wide to gain entrance, becoming soon the size of an orange.

'Do you know how canines mate?' he asked her cruelly, fucking her hard so that the orb slammed against her lips, demanding entrance. He watched their joining hungrily, savoring the sight of his own expansion, a promise that he would soon dominate her completely.

Imogen shook her head, perhaps in answer to his question, perhaps in disgust at what he was suggesting. In truth, she had seen dogs mate before, but had never understood how they remained tied together. Now an understanding began to form in her mind, and she sobbed in pain at the bruising of her body and the horror of what he proposed.

'You will take me,' he snarled, and his thrusts became slower, harder, demanding that her body give way to that strange bunching of muscle. 'You will take me inside you, and take my seed, for you will never touch the ground again until you do.'

And Imogen grit her teeth, knowing that he meant what he said. He was an immortal creature, untiring, with nothing before him but an endless stretch of years. He would keep her there as long as it took.

He watched the look of resolution in her eyes, the grim set of her mouth. Her slender hand moved from his shoulder to his hair, tanging itself in that dark, filthy length as she yanked his vile head towards her own. Her lips trembled, tears snagging in her lashes before spilling freely down her cheeks, but she closed her eyes and drew his mouth to her lips, pretending to herself that this was her wedding night and she was kissing Frederick.

He growled into her mouth, his foul taste making her wince as it dispelled her fantasy, even as he surged harder into her. He fondled her breast, the once-flawless skin now bruised with evidence of what he'd done to her this past hour. His tongue plunged into her mouth, seeking out her own, and she forced herself to meet him, recalling that something about that surging tongue had sparked her arousal earlier.