The Choice Ch. 01

Note: With many thanks to Dazmine for excellent editing. Any flubs and faults that remain are my own. And all feedback is welcome.

***

It all started with a woman in a bar.

The bar was a dive of a place. The service was slow and sloppy, and every bit of furniture had seen better days. I was only in there because I was new to town, I had a thirst, and this was the first place I'd passed.

Still, it was kind of fitting. The down-at-heel bar matched my mood because my life had been turned upside down in the previous couple of months. I'd lost my job, my girlfriend and my house one after another in quick succession. Having failed to find work swiftly, I'd moved to a cheaper town and rented a tiny, dingy flat. I had no friends to call on, a near-empty bank account and dwindling hope.

So I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, mentally subtracting it from the small stock of beers that I could afford. And I thought it was going to be just another empty evening that would fade from memory because it contained exactly nothing different from all the other empty evenings. A sad contemplation of everything that had gone wrong, a good deal of scrolling through the internet on my phone and then a hangover the next day.

But then she walked in.

I realise that makes her entrance sound overly dramatic. There was no fanfare, no blinding light, no sense at that moment that this woman was important. But hindsight means I can't see that moment any other way.

She was a young woman, probably in her late twenties, wearing a figure-hugging black dress. And she had something about her. Apart from anything else, she was very much my type: flowing red hair, big boobs and curvy hips.

But I knew I didn't stand a chance with her in the state I was in, so I went back to nursing my beer and my sorrows. And believe me, I'm not the type of guy that has women flocking to him. I don't really stand out from the crowd. Sometimes I don't even need the crowd.

So it was a huge surprise when, having ordered a drink, she approached and asked if she might join me.

"Of course. If you'd like to. I mean, I think you might like to because you asked. But... um," I said. Cue inward cringes as my brain played those words back to me. But she didn't seem to mind. She took the stool next to mine at the bar and smiled at me.

Her smile was captivating. And her eyes were entrancing -- a deep tawny colour. So entrancing that I almost failed to enjoy the sight of her cleavage in front of me. Almost. The combination of that black dress and the pale skin of her breasts, with ringlets of strawberry hair framing them, was really something. I tried to suppress the horny thoughts that were already popping up in my head.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm Mina."

"I'm Jonathan," I replied. "It's nice to meet you. To tell the truth, it's nice to meet anyone right now."

And that started the outpouring of my recent history. Evidently I'd been keeping things bottled up. Remarkably, Mina just listened—instead of making her excuses and hurrying away to find someone less depressing to talk to.

I tried not to sound too bitter about what had happened, even if the truth was that once the money stopped rolling in, my girlfriend couldn't move on fast enough.

"You've had a rough time," she said. "It happens to us all, but it hits you hard when you're in the middle of it. Thing can change, though." She smiled again, and a thrill raced through me. Was fate finally dealingl me a good hand?

We spent a while talking, getting to know each other. I suggested ordering shots; Mina demurred, saying: "I don't usually drink...whisky." So we had another round of beers. The time flew past. There were none of those awkward silences that can happen when strangers meeting for the first time suddenly run out of conversation.

I almost thought I was dreaming when Mina asked me to walk her home at about ten o'clock. We strolled through the streets and -- amazingly -- I found her hand in mine. It felt good. It felt really good.

And so, twenty minutes later, I found myself standing in the porch outside her house as Mina looked in her bag for her keys.

"Well, Mina, I've had a really great evening," I said. "Thank you so much for listening to my rambling. I hope I didn't impose on you too much. I do have a tendency to go on and--"

She put a finger to my lips, stopping what was about to become another gabble of words filling what seemed like an awkward moment.

Mina leant towards me, her lips slightly parted, her eyes shining, her red hair catching the moonlight. My heart pounded in my chest and I tilted my head to one side as the distance closed between us.

And then she bit me, and the world went dark.

* * *

Clouds chase across a suddenly storm-whipped sky, obscuring the moon. I feel a savage tearing and burning sensation in my neck. There is something in my blood now, changing it. Pouring into me an unquenchable hunger that I cannot satisfy. I will never feel fulfilled again.

* * *

"Wake up, Jonathan."

The words came to me from far, far away, sliding through a spinning tunnel to reach my brain. My head was pounding, my mouth dry and foul-tasting. I could feel air moving over my skin. Was I naked? Had I fallen and hit my head?

"Wake up."

My arms and legs jerked involuntarily as my body entered panic mode, flooding me with adrenaline. Uselessly, because my arms and legs were bound.

"Open your eyes."

No. That was something I didn't want to do. But the voice was compelling and seductive. It was Mina's voice.

I felt my eyelids twitch, then open. The world was dark and blurry. Slowly, my surroundings swam into focus, along with Mina, looking down at me. She was smiling still. I was no longer smiling. And yes, I was naked.

Her smile showed off her teeth: perfectly white and unusually pointed. I had a momentary vision of her incisors suddenly growing out of her gums, becoming needles dripping with glistening liquid.

"Shh. You don't see me like that," she said. And once again she was the Mina I'd met in the bar: the curvy girl who had listened to my troubles and held my hand. She leant forward further and the curve of her tits came into view, hanging forward over my face and chest.

I felt another kind of twitch. Some part of my brain tried to tell me that this was no time to be thinking of that kind of thing. But I was not in control. I managed to lift my head to look down at my body. I was strapped to a trolley of some kind.

And then I felt Mina's hand on my cock. Slowly, she began to stroke me.

"Now that I have your attention, there are some things I need to tell you," she said.

"First of all, though, I think we can get you more comfortable." She gestured, the fingers of her free hand weaving through the air, and the straps binding me began to loosen. The leather moved snake-like through the buckles until finally, all of my limbs were free.

Her hand continued to pump away at my cock. Pleasure rippled through me despite the distress I was experiencing at nearly every other facet of my situation.

"Follow me," Mina said. And with that, she helped me off the gurney, and led me by the cock through a door. The next room was a shock: it was a large and well-appointed bedroom that could have featured on the pages of any design magazine. Pristine lines, beautiful matching colours, a huge and welcoming-looking bed.

Mina gently pushed me down on the bed, and then lay beside me. All the time her hand was working up and down my shaft, which by now was thick and throbbing.

Her voice was just a whisper in my ear.

"I am a vampire, and you are mine."

I shivered, both at the meaning of her words, and the sense of her breath on my skin.

"I am a vampire, and you are mine. Mine to control. Mine to toy with. You are one of hundreds of men that I and my sisters have taken through the ages. I have taken your blood, and I have given you our gift. Your blood hums with it even now."

"Will I..." my voice faltered. "Will I become like you?"

She laughed. "No. My sisters and I do not give that gift to men. We do not consider men worthy of the gift that I was given six hundred years ago by my mother-in-darkness, to live and hunger eternally."

"What is it? What have you done to me?" I moaned, forced to ask the question, but dreading the answer.

"Let me show you," she said.

Her hand moved faster. My already throbbing cock hardened. Her tits pressed against me and the feeling of her skin against mine gave me goosebumps.

"Does that feel good? Do you like me wanking you? Can you imagine what we might do together, here in this bed? Might I let you taste me, worship me? Might I let you fuck me?" she whispered, each word accompanied by a vigorous pump of my cock.

My balls tightened. My cock throbbed. I felt the clockspring of pressure wind in my groin. Her pace built and built, her hand flying. "Cum for me, Jonathan," Mina whispered.

And... nothing.

No release. No spurts of spunk, no nothing. Just an ever-building pressure. A need to cum, but no cum.

Mina giggled. "This is our gift to men."

I groaned. Precum leaked from my cock in a stream, but that didn't help the full sensation in my balls, the need to thrust into her hand and seek that explosive moment.

"What kind of gift is this?" I asked. "You've taken something from me, something important. I so badly need to cum right now. Please."

"Let me show you again," she said.

And with that, she straddled me. I felt her hand raise my cock upright and then she dropped her hips and I was buried inside her. She was tight and wet and hot and I couldn't believe the sensations. Her hips bucked and she pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, displaying her big and bouncing tits.

And then she fucked me for an hour.

Within moments of her starting to move, I felt the need again, felt the tightening of my balls, felt myself swell inside her cunt. I put my hands on her hips, pulled her down hard onto me, trying to thrust deep and fill her with spunk. Again, the rush toward release was not to reach its natural ending; my balls felt fuller than ever, and my cock was like iron.

She didn't deter me. "Fuck me, there's a good boy. Fuck me hard. Fuck me harder than you've ever fucked a woman before," she cried breathlessly.

So I did. She leant forward over me, feeding her nipples into my mouth, making me suck hard and hungrily. Her mouth met mine, and our tongues entwined. She shuddered, and she came, a gush of hot wetness over my balls. And her hips never stopped moving. She was already chasing her next orgasm.

Mina came, I think, seven times in that hour. And I didn't. Whatever her bite had put into my blood had rendered it utterly impossible for me to reach orgasm. I could do everything but cum.

When she finally slipped off me to lie by my side, her face happy and flushed and her breath coming in great heaving gasps, I began to understand. I'd never seen a woman look quite like that before. I mean, I knew what I was doing in bed. But even with the best will in the world I couldn't hold back that much.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Her gratitude sounded sincere, and was as arousing as the fucking itself. It didn't help with the ache in my balls and my cock. They appeared grotesquely swollen and the need to spunk was more intense than I'd ever felt before. But there was nothing I could do about it.

* * *

"Think of it as chastity," Mina said some time later. We were still in bed; food and drink had arrived outside the door from some unknown source, and we were recovering from our exertions. "But true chastity. I don't bother with all those fancy steel contraptions and keys, nice though the symbolism is. I just take control with my bite and take away the ability—but not the desire, never the desire—to cum. That is what I do as a vampire of the sisterhood."

"But I've never wanted to be in chastity! Isn't there something to do with it being a choice? A willing submission?" I asked. Food and drink, and the fact that I was still alive after an amazing fuck, were making me bold.

"You are still thinking about humans, and their way of doing things," Mina said. "I am a vampire. I don't ask for submission. I simply take it. And enforce it. You are my plaything.

"Besides which, you are one of the lucky ones," she said. "You met me. You might have met one of my sisters, who have...different interests in men."

The idea that I was lucky was hard to swallow.

"Don't think about it for now. You are welcome here in my bed, and you will want for nothing -- apart from orgasms. Think of all the things we can do...and there is almost nothing I won't do in bed."

Mina's voice trailed off and she looked into my eyes. Strange though it seemed, I smiled at her. I was under her spell. She kissed me gently and then tenderly fucked my mind with six small words.

"Perhaps one day you'll cum again."

"So the gift isn't permanent?" I asked, with a tremble in my voice.

"We'll talk about it another time," she said, and looked away. I didn't dare ask more questions.

* * *

Time passed. It was true, I wanted for nothing in many ways. There was always good food and drink. Set off from the bedroom was a palatial bathroom with a huge shower cubicle and an equally vast bath. But there were no windows behind the curtains; there was no sign of the outside world at all. It was rather like staying at an upmarket hotel, although one where I didn't know where the lobby was and there was no view. But it was certainly better than my squalid flat. And I had no job to worry about losing. I'd drifted away from friends and family as my life fell to bits. I suspected that the men that the sisterhood took were like me—drifters who were unlikely to be missed.

We fucked like rabbits. Mina's appetite for sex seemed inexhaustible. Her orgasms were loud and long and gushing, in some strange way replacing and compensating for the absence of my release. Sometimes she would sit on my face and nearly drown me with her juices. I couldn't get enough of the taste of her.

The same was true for her. The side-effect of no orgasms was that I would produce what felt like oceans of precum. She would suck me and swallow the steady stream of juice I produced, occasionally kissing me to share the taste.

Sometimes, she would take her pleasure purely through my torment. I think the longest lubed-up handjob she gave me lasted for six hours. I was climbing the walls by the end, sobbing out my need to cum. My balls were swollen and aching and my cock could take no more. She gently held me afterwards, consoling me softly as I wept. It hurt... but it was also glorious in some way.

"You truly are...unusual, Jonathan," Mina said to me. "I feel able to take as much as I want. And you keep on giving. It's wonderful." I basked in her approval.

And then there were the special days.

The first was when Mina entered my room with another man in tow.

"Jonathan, meet Tony," Mina said. "I haven't bitten him, but I have entranced him. So he'll do anything I want, won't you Tony?"

"Yes, Mina," Tony said in a docile kind of way.

"Strip for me."

And so Tony did, in that haphazard way men do. At least he managed to take his socks off before he shucked his boxers.

"Oh my," said Mina.

I was incapable of speech. Tony had a cock that hung halfway to his knee. I suddenly felt how distinctly average I was in that department.

Mina sank to her knees and began to suck Tony's cock. It grew...and it grew...and it grew. My eyes must have been popping out of my head as Mina finally released the raging shaft from her mouth and wanked him in front of me.

"And now you get to watch me get fucked by this massive cock," she said with a smile.

I've never seen a woman's cunt stretched so wide. She took every last inch—at least eight in my estimate, and his shaft was as thick as my wrist—deep inside her and she looked radiant as she did it.

"Oh god, that's so deep," Mina moaned, before turning her attention to me. "Now, while we fuck, you are going to wank for me. Wank nice and hard, Jonathan."

And so I pumped my aching cock, wanting to be inside her, wanting desperately. But she was getting something she couldn't get from me. I was left to watch Tony pound her cunt with his huge cock, to see how her beautiful pink hole was filled with him.

The final twist, of course, was something that I hadn't paid enough attention to when she came in. Tony had not received the sisterhood's gift.

So when he pulled out his cock, covered in sticky cuntjuice, Mina knelt in front of him, cushioning her tits on her arms.

"Cum all over me, Tony. Give it to me."

And Tony did. A few strokes of his hand and cum gushed from his cock, more cum than I'd ever seen, even in porn movies. Ropes of it splattered against Mina's face, dripping down all over her tits. Tony let out a long, gasping moan, shoving his cock into Mina's mouth for the last few squirts. She swallowed hungrily. My own hand was still shuttling up and down my cock, fruitlessly.

The torture was exquisite.

But of course Mina had more in mind. Some time later, she brought five men into the room. This time it was straight down to action. Mina on her knees, surrounded by five cocks—stubby, thick, long, thin, curved—and she commanded them to wank over her.

Soon enough, there were five loads of spunk covering her hair, her cheeks, her tits. When she stood up some of it had even rolled down to land in her cunt hair, as red as her flowing locks. She then took particular delight in spreading her legs wide on the bed in front of me, dipping her fingers into the cum splatters and working the sticky fluid into her cunt. I wanted to look away and yet I couldn't. She smiled and brought herself to a shuddering orgasm, before offering me her spunky, cunty fingers to taste.

I tasted, and I ached.

* * *

But there was darkness here too.

Finally my curiosity got the better of me about something Mina had said right at the start.

"You once told me I was one of the lucky ones. What did you mean?" I asked.

Mina gestured to the door. "Step outside, and you will find out. If you really want to."

So I opened the door from our room—which even if it was palatial, was still a constraint. I emerged into the room that I had first awoken in. There was no sign now of the trolley with the leather straps. Turning left, I saw another door.

I ended up in a corridor, with more doors off to left and right. I realised that I had still had no idea of how big this place was. So I wandered up to the first door, which had a window set in it.

I will never forget what I saw until the day I die, however much I might want to.

The room was a torture chamber. A man was tied, naked, to an X-shaped cross. Standing in front of him, and facing away from me, was a tall woman. Horrified, but unable to look away, I watched as she approached him with a wicked-looking knife. She began to carve glyphs into his skin, and wherever her knife cut, a livid, ugly fissure remained -- a crack through which a revolting black liquid began to pour. The man's mouth was open in a soundless scream. I saw the knife descend towards his groin. I saw her begin to slice.

I don't know what alerted the woman to my presence. Maybe she simply sensed it. She turned towards the window and my blood froze. For while her body was athletic, toned and tanned, her face was a wizened mask. Razor-like fangs protruded from her mouth, dripping with corruption. Her twisted features contorted further into a snarl at the sight of me.

She took one step forward, and I fled. My room might be a prison, but it was also a sanctuary.

Mina was waiting for me. She looked into my eyes and saw everything. She didn't say a word, because she didn't need to. I thought of how her sister would have returned to her knifework. I was one of the lucky ones. Or so I thought.