Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Tortured and rescued.

Z

ZarakiSan

Planetoid
Joined
Jan 31, 2009
The sun sank slowly, the world revolving to give its other side some much-needed light. At the other end of the world, people were waking up, glad to have made it through another night. But on this side of it, people hurried inside of their houses for comfort and shelter, the night cold and dangerous. At this side of town, there was a lone girl walking the streets, hurrying herself to make it home. Being a young bartender had lots of advantages, mainly in the size of her tips, but she didn't like going home walking like this, even if her home, a tiny apartment in a flat filled with vermin, both human and smaller, was only a few blocks away.

She was dressed for the upcoming winter, with a thick coat draped around her shoulders, hiding much of her contours. She was pretty underneath the coat, and her face, though she wore a scarf to hide it partially, already hinted at it. She had a sleek figure, light but not creepily so skin, and marvellous eyes that hinted at both blue and green. She wore contacts without any color in them, afraid to ruin her naturally balanced eye color. Underneath her coat she wore a light, long-sleeved shirt, with the phrase 'I<3NY' on it, even though this was not New York at all. She wore jeans, tight-fitting around her bottom, that attracted the eyes of many a male customer. She knew better than to flirt with them though.

She was, however, flirting with destiny. Walking these cold streets by herself now that the sun had sank low, Amy had not half a clue as to how much trouble she was in.
 
The streets. Full of the scents of the living; hot blood, sexual satisfaction. Sweat, cum, blood, all mingling together in his senses as he drifted down the streets, hands tucked into the pockets of his loose-fitting, ragged jeans. The smells made him hungry; it had been quite some time since he had last fed, and his fangs ached to pierce flesh, his tongue throbbed to sample the hot blood of a mortal.

The loose-fitting hoodie had been a 'gift' from his last donor, a slight gray color with a black box on the chest. The words were faded, hard to make out, but read "PARENTAL ADVISORY: Blaming your children's behavior on video games is asinine". His hair, dirty and strewn, stringy black, drifted about his face in the slight wind that blew through down the street, tossing up newspapers and plastic wrappers that had somehow missed being properly disposed of.

There. On the wind. The smell of hot blood, in the open, tinged with a sweetness he hadn't smelled in some time. Tongue drifted out to moisten his lips, blood coursing through his body in anticipation. The source was approaching. His steps carried him over toward the left, an alleyway coming up on the same side of the street the scent was on. Into the alley, then, crimson eyes closing as his body pressed up into the shadows of the alley, becoming nigh-invisible. His nose marked the passage, would alert him when the time to strike would come.
 
The human was oblivious. She just walked for a while longer, not knowing what shadows followed her. But when her phone vibrated in her pocket right next to a dark alleyway, she stopped, took it out, flipped it open, and read the text message. She had forgotten her keys at the bar. Sighing softly, the girl closed her eyes for some time, the beautiful greens and blues hidden as she rested her eyes a bit.

She pondered to herself. The landlord had her house key, so she could just keep on going and use that. Amy felt no need nor desire to walk all the way back to the bar. So instead, she pondered for a few moments, before she began typing away at the little keyboard of her phone to message her boss that she would come pick them up the next day. She didn't want to go through all this darkness again, feel so unsafe with all the things out there...
 
There. Now. His senses told him she was close - close enough to move. The bright light of the phone protected her for but a brief instant, bursting into his eyes and disorienting him. Then it was gone. Half a step out of the alley, one arm shot about the girl's waist, the other up and around her torso, a long-fingered, powerful hand clamping down upon her mouth to keep her from screaming. His prodigious strength made it simple - he simply hurled her into the alley, his body close behind. He was atop her almost before she crashed face-down into a pile of smelly garbage bags.

His hand clamped back over her mouth, lips next to her ear as he hissed softly, warning - the sound akin to that of a snake, but much deeper, deadlier. Making certain she understood, the hand clawed downward off her throat, long nails digging into the coat and the shirt beneath. Another soft hiss into her ear, in case she got any ideas about making a sound or struggling, his free hand shoving up between her thighs. Fingers clenching down upon her crotch, squeezing hard. He'd have a little fun with her before he drained her.
 
The girl screamed straight into a powerful hand, trying to bite down upon it. Her phone fell just before she could press the send button, the light gone as soon as the phone hit the pavement, breaking it into half. She struggled against her attacker, but the power of her assailant was way more than she could ever muster herself. His touches made her burn with fear and anger for being unable to do anything to them, her body was already bruising while he forced her into the dark. She felt herself landing on something, unable to breathe for several seconds before her lungs started functioning again. Amy didn't even have the breath to talk, yet alone scream, before he came back up and around her.

She felt his hand pressing into her privates, that place where only one man had been before, only once. she struggled against him even more, trying to fight him, to make him stop, anything to help her out of this situation. But it was no use so far, his fingers were digging into her cleft even with the clothes she wore in place. immediately she felt nauseous, and though she made the motions of throwing up, it didn't actually happen, she just gagged against his hand, trembling, scared by the hissing so badly that she couldn't even struggle anymore.
 
The bite on his hand was nothing more than a mosquito's tickle to him. As he felt the struggle go out of her, his hand clenched upon the coat and the shirt, one long nail catching hold of the bra further beneath. One swift motion - a solid yank - brought the sound of tearing cloth as he ripped the clothes from her body, leaving only a few tatters behind that clung to her skin. The hand below tightened, easing back from her sex just enough to get a firm grip upon the jeans. Another powerful tug tore the denim at the seams, leaving the front half of the jeans about her legs while the back came off, exposing her to him.

His head came down to her shoulder, lips brushing across her throat in a grotesque mockery of a lover's touch. Lips parted slightly, sharp canines extending, retracing the trail of his lips and leaving behind faint white marks from their passage. His head dipped slightly, the fangs digging into the flesh, but not penetrating - not yet. Oh, no. He just wanted to give her a taste of what came after.
 
She was losing her thought processes one by one, going by instinct and staying still for several moments, then suddenly trying to crawl out of his grasp again, until he started ripping the clothes off her. Then she stayed still, like a mouse in the grasp of a large cat, unsure of what to do, to think, and too scared to fight him now that she saw the tremendous strength he possessed once more. She begged at him, even though her voice did not reach him, to let her go, wailing already, tears covering even his hand as she tried to plead to him to let her go.

Amy felt him rip off her jeans almost entirely with one hard pull, and she knew he wanted to rape her and that nothing was going to stop him now. Her white panties, innocently clinging there until he ripped them away, showed that she wasn't exactly a slut, closer to a virgin. She did, however, shave herself bare, allowing him, unwillingly, exactly how she looked down there, her bald entrance looking very untainted. The girl shook and trembled and, of course, was not aroused at all from this crazy, animalistic attacker that now was going to rape her. The girl didn't fight him anymore now, giving in, unable to even bring up the strength.
 
The mortal's wailing amused the beast. One hand clasped to her shoulder, jerking her back to force her to arch up, pulling her slightly toward him. His lips followed her throat, the fangs slowly tracing the same route again and again, the white marks deepening slightly with each pass. Soon becoming red from aggravation. His body shifted down, under her, and the jeans were undone with a swift hand.

There was no preamble, no taunting, teasing. The hand that had undone his jeans slid forward to pull aside her panties, to expose her fully to him. The hard, thick shaft came up and thrust, hard, driving him fully into her with one long thrust, opening her forcefully to his girth and length. At the same moment, the fangs pierced her flesh, sinking in and withdrawing slightly to open her. His tongue lathed over the spot, his lips closed upon it. The sweetness of it, the delicious taste of a panicked mortal.

He began to move inside her. Slowly easing back from her before burying himself into her again. And again. And again. Each thrust, another mouthful of her blood easing down his throat, filling him with the warm sensations of life as it stirred his own blood. His body gradually growing warmer against hers, at first as cold as the icy wind that cut through the alleyway, but steadily heating.
 
To be entered in two ways at once time, once being a painful prick in her neck, the other the filling of a place that while meant to be filled, was not ready for it, it nearly made her lose consciousness, as she hung on by a thread to keep that consciousness, her legs spreading instinctively as he filled her, trying to ease the pain a little bit. Nothing, though, seemed to help.

With his first thrust, he also thrust a sharp metal rod into the girl's back, impaling her almost a full inch on it, pressing into her. She whined from that extreme pain, but stopped so she could breathe, her head becoming light from the lack of oxygen going to her brain. That, luckily for her, dampened the excruciating pain just a little bit, but it was all not enough for her to stay fully awake.

She went into a state of half-consciousness as he continued to ram himself into her and simultaneously drink from her, taking her blood, her soul as it felt. She faded further and further, her own life dimming, the light in her eyes that usually shone brightly dimming until she was just as good as a doll, giving her blood mindlessly, letting him take her wordlessly. A finger became dangerously close to freezing over, but this beast likely did not care about even that. She instinctively knew she was going to die, that she wouldn't make it.
 
He took his time with her. Not with the rape, no; that continued full force, taking his pleasure from her as brutally as possible. Each thrust hammering him into her, the hand on her shoulder shoving her down against the thrusting malehood each time it came up into her.

No, what he took his time with now was on her throat. Taking a little every so often, savoring the flavor for several moments before letting it ease down his throat. He could feel her growing weaker, the beat of her heart slowing, and knew that his time with her was coming closer and closer to an end. He wanted to draw it out as long as possible - who knew when circumstances would contrive to present to him such opportunities again?

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. One final thrust and he was buried to the hilt inside of her, as he sucked away all but the barest bit of her blood, just enough to allow her to keep breathing and conscious for the last of it. It was the last part of it he enjoyed the most; leaving them alive, awake, to consider what had just happened to them. He emptied himself into her, his ejaculation cold as ice as it flooded into her, spilling out of the tight confines to dribble down her thighs.

Withdrawing himself from her, both below and above, he tucked himself back into the jeans, licking his now blood-red lips and raising his flushed cheeks to the sky. The moon had risen high above by now, and the night was still young. He finally spoke his first, and last, words to her.

"Sleep well, my pretty," he said in a quiet voice, almost that of a lover. With a smile, he was gone, away from the alley, leaving the abused girl face-down in the trash.
 
She slowly lost her ability to think properly. She couldn't contemplate about the miscourse of her going to her home in the dark, couldn't hope to anyone that she would be saved by a stranger or even a friend. She no longer thought about anything, the pain surging through her most of what kept her alive.

Amy was slipping away. She didn't know it, but she was going to die soon. The girl would feel the total black, blacker even than this poorly-lit alleyway where her death would take place. She would stop breathing, her heart stop beating completely. It wasn't pumping much as it was, the little bit of blood thin and not exactly filled with oxygen. She felt his come inside her only from a distant, far-away land in which her mind now resided, and she felt him slip away, her body lying still on top of the trash. She didn't move, she didn't try to talk. She was gone. Even if it wouldn't be long, she was, for most intents and purposes, dead to the world.
 
A feather-light touch of a wrist upon Amy's lips. Warm, sanguine fluid that eased its way into her mouth, demanded to be drunk. A soft, powerfully masculine voice that spoke, seemingly, directly into her ears. "Drink," the voice ordered, another hand on her chin to tilt her head back, to assist in the feeding of the fluid, pouring it directly down her throat.

The wrist belonged to a slender figure crouched next to her limp, almost lifeless form. A shock of short, wild red hair danced about a pale, handsome face, blue-black eyes studying the form he held. A circular tube-collar rested about his throat, a tight leather vest across his torso that exposed his muscular chest and abdomen. Skin-tight leather pants creaked as he shifted his weight.

"Drink up, little one. It's not your time."
 
her breathing had long-since become a hoarse, pointless trial to stay alive. When she felt something block her path to air, she tried to struggle, but she couldn't even moved her head. Instead, she felt something falling into her mouth. water? Was she saved? She wasn't sure, she could hardly think, so it was complicated. When she heard a voice, too, she decided to give in and gulp down the little droplets of fluid that were being presented to her, her tongue reaching to lick up more from the strange bottle she was licking from. The human drank the fluid until she passed out, upon which her tongue kept working to bring it in. She was under the spell, the one that was beckoning her body to change. To turn.

As soon as her eyes closed, her hands, moved by nothing of her own strength, gripped his arm, and she began her true drinking. Her body was busy digesting this, to move it to her heart as quickly as possible, to spread the 'disease' around her body and save her life. Only when she could take no more, her hands fell down immediately and the passed-out female, naked, covered in her own blood and the semen from the creature that had attacked her, lay still, to let her body change, to become one of the night's creatures. She would take a few hours to wake up, for sure.
 
As she collapsed, his hand moved away from her mouth. Soft fingers stroked the puncture marks the other had left behind, gently massaging at them until they closed of their own accord. Gathering the girl up into his arms, discarding the sodden undergarments, he carried her away from the dark alley, and deeper into the heart of the city.

---

The girl would awaken in a dimly lit room, resting in a soft, almost cloud-like bed that contoured to her body, supporting every inch of her skin. Her flesh had been cleaned, removed of any trace of the other's violation, and a thick comforter rested up about her neck. The room itself was somewhat plain; while the bed was massive, Victorian style with gauzy drapes about it, it was the only ornate part of the room. No windows, a simple oak armoire in one corner, and soft carpet. The door, directly across from the bed, was another matter. Heavy steel, reinforced, with a heavy knob that spoke of a thick lock.

Her savior, nowhere to be found. The room was empty, save for her.
 
The young female woke with a start, sitting up and screaming, a scream she still had to let go from when she had been so brutally raped. She sat up, ignoring completely the fact that she was nude and exposing her upper body to whomever could see. Luckily in that perspective, there was nobody there. instead, she was in a comfortable, huge, old-looking bed that made her feel like a princess, or a noble woman. But the bruises that, even with Vampiric healing, were still all over her, her cracked ribs and the closing hole on her back still hurting, she knew better than to believe nothing had happened.

She got out of the bed, looking down at herself. She looked pale, probably from the lack of blood. She looked hurt, but she wasn't as badly hurt as she thought. and she felt strong. Hungry, in a bad state of mind, but physically, very strong. She flexed a little bit, feeling her muscles ripple just the tiniest bit, and then relaxed again.

She realized just how quiet it was. When she stood still, the room was perfectly silent. No, it wasn't the room, it was her. She pressed her hand to her chest, which suddenly appeared to be a little more voluptuous than before. She felt nothing. no heart beat, hardly any warmth. She gave another cry, of shock, of lack of understanding. The young Vampire called Amy fell back on her butt, holding herself in a hugging motion, staring in front of her, shocked, her breathing quick and shallow. She didn't know what to think, what to do. Her newfound eyesight having little trouble with the lack of light in the room, her dark grey eyes, so different from her human ones, scanned the room, but she saw nothing of interest.
 
The heavy steel door made an ominous creaking noise as it was swung open, rusty teeth on granite. In he strode, leather hugging tightly to his muscular form, making slight noises from the exertions of his body as he moved in. Over his shoulder rode an unconscious human male, taller than he and at least three times his size, and yet he carried the man with ease.

He unceremoniously dumped the man at Amy's feet, dusting his hands after he'd done so. Straightening the vest about his torso, running a hand quickly through the shock of crimson hair to push it from his face, he fixed his eyes upon her. One hand resting on his hip, the other came down from his head, a single finger pointing first to her, then to the human on the floor.

"Feed," he commanded, his voice rich and sensual, powerful. "You'll need it to survive, so you might as well get used to it now, girl."
 
The door, the door, the door. It made a sound. It hurt, it hurt so much she backed away into a corner, hiding herself, making herself as small as possible in hopes of not being seen. Still, her pale skin contrasted to the wall. She was easy to see, and the eyes of a male fell upon her. she shrieked, scared to be hurt, and even more, to be raped again. She was panicking, breathing quickly to fill her lungs. The human need served a little bit of use for Vampires, it made them feel better, it gave them more breath to talk, mostly.

He dropped something for her, a human, not a Vampire, and though she did not notice the difference, her nose picked up on it. Her instinct immediately kicked in and she ignored the fact that she was naked and vulnerable. She shot over to the form that he dropped before her and slid newly found fangs right into him, into his neck where she could most easily reach him. She clumsily drank from him, huge gulps like a newborn Vampire used in order to fill herself, to gain strength. She was soon covered from her mouth down to her chest in blood, making a mess out of herself as she fed from what soon became a corpse. She was all over her victim, holding him, keeping him from moving even if he was already dead.

Only when she really had her fill did she look up at him with even a tiny bit of humanity in her. She cowered away again, toward the bed, hiding her body, more troubled breaths from her. Her eyes were red now, her fangs still extended, she looked as much a beast with the blood covering her as she appeared once human. she growled softly at this thing before her, that had fed her, but she still couldn't trust him.
 
He watched the savagery with which she went at the corpse, slowly cupping his chin in one palm, arm crossed over his chest. Shaking his head slowly, a low chuckle escaping his throat as the sounds and scents of life from the human stopped as the blood flowed from him to her. Studying her as she backed away, shaking his head slightly.

"You got half of it all over you. Sloppy, little one. Very, very sloppy." Then he moved; a blur of motion that brought him right up in front of her, his hands on her shoulders taking hold and lifting, bending her backward over the bed and holding her down. "Tsk. This was very wasteful of you."

His mouth was down then, tongue out, slowly trailing up along her torso to clean the blood from her flesh. Slow, gentle laps of his tongue that pulled the blood from her flesh, into his mouth and down his throat, cleaning her off by the simple expedient of taking what she hadn't.
 
She screamed a louder scream than most humans could manage when she realized he was touching her, the tainted girl kicking at him and fighting, trying to get out of his grasp. She didn't want him there, she didn't want him to see her, though pretty, naked form. she wanted to hide, never to see men again. She didn't want him.

Amy growled at him, like a wolf, and tried to claw at him, to make him let her go. She seemed set on getting him off or lose and die trying. She was making soft noises from her scaredness, the bruises on her body feeling like they were being tortured again even though only her breasts were touched by him, and then only in a gentle fashion. Still, the placebo effect was working on her mind strongly, and she fought him with all her young, but still Vampiric strength. Talking, it seemed, had not entered her mind just yet.
 
"Still yourself," he murmured in a commanding voice, tongue lathing across her flesh to gently gather more of the blood. He was strong, and his body pressed firmly to hers to pin her to the bed, hands about her wrists to pin her down against the bed. "I am simply taking what you did not want, since you allowed it to spill so much. I've lost quite a bit this evening, and must replenish."

Shoving his body forward once, to bounce her against the bed for emphasis, he returned to his work. Each drop of blood like a symphony, revitalizing him, making his body crave more, and more. His licking eased ever upward, tugging the blood from her skin, until at last he was at her throat. His lips worked as much as his tongue here, sucking softly at the flesh to loosen each droplet of blood, tongue darting down to gather it. And then, finally, he had cleared her skin of the blood she had been so careless with.

"That wasn't so bad, now, was it, little one?"
 
She was panting in terror, tears stinging her eyes, shivering beneath his strong form, still silent while she lay beneath him. She was obviously in absolute fear of him, she tried not to move, but the little spasms and shivers running over her body until finally he stopped licking her. she curled up into a little ball beneath him, whining softly, clawing at the soft covers beneath her, obviously trying to ignore him, to make him go away.

After a few seconds, she started screaming again, vivid images going through her mind as she brought her hands forcibly to her head, rolling beneath the male form as she felt every moment of pain go through her mind over and over and over again.
 
As she started to scream, he released her and stepped away from the bed, resting his hands on his hips as he watched her roll about. A slight smile on his blood-stained lips, tongue running across his lips to clear them of blood, returning them to their pale pink normalcy. He waited for a break in her screaming before he spoke again.

"You've obviously got things to deal with, little one. Do whatever you want to this room - tear the bed to shreds, smash everything if you really want. Just get it out of your system. We have all the time in the world for you to get it out of your system, and I'll return each night with another victim for you. When you finally feel as if you've got yourself under control, knock four times on the door. I'll let you out - if you've been good."

With that, he moved back toward the door and clanged it shut behind him, locking it after him, his footsteps fading away down what sounded like a stone hallway.
 
When he was gone she finally managed to rest for a moment, before she got up and checked out the closet. She picked a nice long, black dress from it that covered her up completely and put it on, sighing now that she finally had clothes on. Then, without a moment's hesitation, she knocked four times on the huge, strong door before promptly running to the bed and pulling the covers over her. She didn't seem ready to leave, but something else did seem to be up.

She wanted him to explain to her what was going on first. Had he hurt her so badly the other night? Was he someone else? Why was she here? Was she a Vampire? Well, there was little fooling herself over that one question. She couldn't be much else. Something instinctively told her she was. Still, she wanted him to come back, to explain things to her.
 
It took several minutes for the sounds of footsteps to return, coming back down the hall toward the door. The sound of the lock being undone was followed shortly by the eerie creaking of the steel door, his body slipping through the opening then closing it behind him, leaning back against it, hands on his hips. The leather clothing clung tightly to his body, his hair falling briefly into his face before being blown out of the way by upturned lips.

"Well?" he asked, his eyes on her, watching, studying. "You haven't been good long enough to get out, so what do you want?" His eyes flicked briefly over to the armoire, noting which bit of clothing was missing and what wasn't. He loved that dress. His lips curved into a smile as he pictured her in it in his mind, derived of the real thing by the blocking blankets.
 
The girl, huddled beneath the covers, was silent for a second before speaking up. "I'm not gonna destroy the room. I just want to know what's going on. Did you rape me?" She asked, her voice, which she suddenly had found, sweet and humane, so unlike the creature she now was. Amy looked down at the floor. "And, and, why did you bring me here?" She continued almost immediately.

The girl extended a trembling hand to him, turning it over to show her wrist. "I bit myself. I drank my own blood." she said softly, admitting to what she had done while waiting for him to arrive. The female let her hand drop again. "I'm a Vampire, aren't I? And you are too, right? I mean, you licked blood off me, you have to b-" she gave a soft cry as she remembered him taking the blood off her bare frame, the images still very fresh in her mind. She was filled with questions only he could answer.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom