Sacrificial Lamb: Sacrifice Tales

The tenderness returned at the entry door as quickly as she'd turned cruel. Touching the old man's face, Lacey smiled and sent waves of need inside him. Tugging his ascot from his neck, she ran her fingers over the marks on his neck. Blood oozed from the old wounds.

He bent to her, silently giving her access to the punctures, her cold, lifeless lips pressed to his warm flesh, her fangs thrust inside, opening the old pricks wider, and Lacey sucked more of his life from Jamison.

For long, slow minutes, she took from him. The rapture of her touch engulfed him. The pain and pleasure flooded him, knowing this was one of, if not the last, times they'd embrace. She took his blood, and his body became more feckless. At last, Lacey broke their embrace with his heart, struggling to pump the dangerously low blood volume through his body. Jamison was so miserably weak that he wasn't sure he could make it home.

Each heartbeat sent shards of agony through his veins.

He gazed at her beautiful face, and Lacey smiled at him. Seductively, she licked her fangs clean, and her brilliant white teeth were pearls against her ruby, blood-soaked, luscious lips. Touching his neck, he realized she didn't heal his wounds when she pulled her fangs from him. For a moment, he studied the blood on his fingers. Lifting his hand to her mouth. He offered her the blood.

"Go home," she said, rejecting the offer. "I have some friends out there to see you home."

She stepped away, walking back toward the Drawing room.

The door swung open. The howls of the wolves came closer.

"Leave."

The word burned his ears, and Jamison Williams stumbled from the house, nearly falling down the steps. The moon bathed the pasture. Red glowing eyes spied on him. His shirt turned a grim red as the blood surged in small gushes from the open wounds.

The old man wondered if she'd bring him across. Would he wake from his undead sleep to her loving, hateful face? But in a flash, he understood his fate. She'd sentenced him to death. She'd told him to leave. Uncaring, without mercy, he'd been dismissed, services no longer required, sacked with extreme prejudice.

He'd bleed to death.

The distant, howling wolves caught his attention. Plaintive, mournful low and long bays. The hairs on his neck prickled, and Jamison realized the beasts weren't there to escort him. The yapping of the wolves drew nearer and nearer, as though they closed in on him. A dreadful fear clutched him, for he understood his mistress sent them for him. As best he could, Williams ran, but within ten paces, he fell to the cold, wet ground, and wolves descended on him.

Many wolves surrounded him, pawing the ground, growling, raising their head toward the full moon, and howling. They waited. Jamison Willams surrendered to his fate, getting to his knees and hanging his head.

"Well, alright then, have your way," he exclaimed.

They charged from all sides.

In vain, Jamison tried to scream. They snatched the flesh from him, and his pain was gloriously terrifying. Through all the pain, he could only think one thought, 'I hope she enjoys my death.' Even with eternity with her, denied him, and amidst a horrifying death, her pleasure was his only thought. His sole purpose. Between heaven and hell, there was only Lacey.

Lacey Anderson felt every bite of flesh as the beasts ripped it from old man Anderson, and she greatly appreciated it. Jamison Williams and her father were responsible for the death of Lazarus's lover. Later, when he returned, they forced her to act through their inaction. The two men made her destroy Lazarus.

She'd fall in love with Lazarus. She wasn't sure when. But her father's and Anderson's deaths ended her revenge. Now, she ruled, and she would not be kind. With some planning, she'd fill the town with fresh blood, as Lazarus had in yesteryear.

But for now, she had a boy to conquer. In truth, he already belonged to her.

****

Stripping as she approached the Drawing room, she entered and moved to him. Without words, she thrust her will into his mind and commanded him to lie on his back on the floor. He tried, futilely, to cover his engorged member.

"You're young, strong, and there are many lovely kisses for me."

"I'd like that. And I've only kissed a few girls, nothing else," He insisted meekly with a tremble of fear.

The woman advanced and bent toward the boy till all there was for him was her breath, cold and somewhat sterile, passing in small puffs across his neck. How sensual and sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, sending a prickling through the veins of the boy's neck. The veins swelled, showing blue under the skin.

She whispered to him, and her voice, soft and sensual with a bitter underlying sickly sweetness, which bored into his brain.

"You're still a virgin. Beg me to change that. Go on, you must ask...nicely."

She ran her hands over his body; the gooseflesh rose, and his breathing grew ragged.

"Please," he begged, repeating the word softer with each utterance. As Lacey spoke, his eyelids fluttered, almost closing, as he gazed at her under the lashes. The clouds were gone, and the full moon cast a shaft of light through the window over them.

"Please, pretty, please, teach me," he murmured.

Lacey moved down his body, removed his hands from covering himself, and bent to his prick, kissing it lightly. The power she held over him pleased her. She gloated, staring at his bobbing dick.

"I'm your first and only. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

With careful, unhurried, lushness, she ran her tongue over her scarlet lips and lapped it over the sharp teeth. This both stimulated and disgusted the boy. Lacey moved up his body, leaving a trail of saliva as he traced her way to his neck. Lacey arched her neck and licked her lips again in animalistic excitement.

"Your first genuine kiss," she hissed.

Every sensation Lacey elicited was an eternity of pleasure and pain, and he wanted nothing more out of life than these precious moments of unadulterated bliss. His flesh tingled with anticipation. He moaned out loud as she nibbled gently on the lobes of his ears, sending currents of energy from head to toe.

The skin of his throat prickled as she meandered her tongue over the rigid goosebumps on the soft flesh of his neck. He shivered at the brush of her lips and the hard dents underneath the two sharp teeth she pressed against the artery. She only touched and paused for a moment. He shut his eyes tight, anticipating what was happening. Adam waited with rapid heartbeats for pleasure and pain in a languid ecstasy.

Adam did not know what was happening. He didn't care. The trance the young man was in consumed him. Her touch controlled him, and he wanted nothing more out of life than these precious moments of unadulterated pleasure.

The two canines plunged inside the carotid. Drinking deeply from Adam while a ferocious thrill ran through him. The young man arched his neck, allowing her to dig in deeper. Adam allowed himself to sink into an abyss of pure rapture. Abandoning his anxiety, embracing the moment fearlessly.

In a flash, his seed erupted in long, thick tendrils over his belly and chest. One spasm and another. For a full minute, he spat cum from his cock. Grabbing his cock, she milked him dry. Adam shuddered in pleasure as Lacey stroked his prick until he thought he could take no more.

Rolling on top of him, never breaking the hold on his neck, she positioned herself and took his cock inside her. Plunging her hips, she fucked him. The two lovers made love while she fed, taking his strength and will and twisted them into hers.

Finally, his hands found her body. He touched her, his hotness matching her frostiness. Some current, small, nearly imperceptible, moved from her into him. This current rose to a tide, rolling through him, working its way into the fiber of his being.

He bucked himself into her. At one point, Adam tried to take control. One of her hands pressed into his chest. It felt as if she reached inside and squeezed his heart.

Lacey raised her head above his.

"Never try that gain."

Every cell in his body erupted in pain. Adam went limp. The pain transformed into pleasure. With worshipful adoration, he gazed into her eyes. The blue was gone, and the red returned.

They kissed. Lacey continued to ride him, fucking him, taking from him.

Snaking his tongue into her mouth, she dug the fangs in. She held his tongue tight, sucking his blood into her. His strength fled him and became hers. Bucking up into her, a new load of cum filled her.

In the morning, he woke, making his way home. He wondered where his father was. He found a place where wolves ripped apart some poor animal. The snow was blood red, and bone fragments, pieces of meat, and sinew were all that remained. For a moment, Adam was worried about his father.

Remembering he and Lacey's father were in Bangor calmed his fears. He didn't think of his father much after that. After all, Adam Williams had an important job protecting Lacey and bringing her young men.

These young men were nothing more or less than sacrificial lambs he gave her as an offering. She was his goddess. As long as he pleased her, he'd do what she desired. When he no longer satisfied her, he'd be the sacrifice.

Yes, someday, baring earning the gift of turning, he'd be another Sacrificial Lamb.