Her Blood, My Hunger- Lesbian Vampire Story by Salty Vixen

I check the clock. 4:54. Only six minutes to go. I check my email again, and there’s still nothing important to deal with. I rifle through the huge pile of papers in my inbox again. I check the clock. 4:55. Only five minutes to go.

I want to get out of this place something fierce. Today is payday, which means I had to deliver paychecks to everyone in the office. It’s actually the only part of the job I like, but I should have worn more comfortable shoes. My feet are killing me, my calves are killing me, my back is killing me, my neck is killing me. Even my ears hurt, thanks to these goddamn earrings my boyfriend gave me. I don’t know what possessed me to wear the fucking earrings—it’s not like I see the fucking idiot anymore.

I’m sore, sore, sore. If I still had money, it would be a great day to get a massage. I could really use a massage. The thing is, until a year ago, I actually had the money. I could’ve just called someone and I’d be on my way to get a nice massage. You see, Mom and Dad have money, and I used to be on an allowance. I was rich, and I was the real party girl. But then one of my friends threw a big bash and her wet-blanket neighbor got pissed at the loud music and called the cops. The police came and charged me with indecent exposure and resisting arrest. It was a ridiculous situation, and the police were totally unreasonable. I got a good lawyer and the charges were dropped, but Mom and Dad were furious. And they just cut me off—snap!—just like that. My lifeline gone. And now I have this shitty job.

So I don’t like wet-blanket neighbors, and I don’t like cops. And right now, I’m not too happy with Mom and Dad either.

I hear footsteps coming my way and I check the clock, hoping whoever it is will just walk on by. But no such luck. “Virginia, honey, how are you doing?” Oh shit, it’s Larry. Larry the asshole. Don’t honey me, asshole. Doesn’t he realize it is 4:57, only three minutes to go? He’s standing at the entrance to my cubicle, staring. I pretend to read my email. Maybe if I look busy he’ll go away.

“How are you doing on those expense reports?” Larry asks. Oh Christ. Now I’m annoyed. Really annoyed. I spin in my chair and face him. Larry is a short man with a tendency to sweat and a belly that hangs out over his belt. About six months ago his wife divorced him. He probably deserved it. Larry is a loser. Expense reports? He must be kidding. “I’ll get them to you tomorrow,” I say.

Larry sighs. Larry sighs a lot. He runs his fat fingers through his hair. “Virginia, I wanted to finish them tonight,” he whines.

“I have an appointment at 5:30,” I lie. If I can just make him feel a little guilty. “I could cancel it. But I’ve already canceled twice. I may have a problem rescheduling.” I give him my best hangdog eyes.

Larry sighs again. He stands there quietly for a minute, thinking. “No, no, don’t cancel your appointment,” he says. “But can you have them done by noon tomorrow? I need to turn them in tomorrow.”

I have no idea if I can get them done by noon tomorrow. How the hell should I know? “Sure,” I say, “no problem.”

Larry turns his pudgy body around and walks away. Thank God. And it’s 5:02—I’m two minutes late getting out of this shithole. I grab my purse and I’m out of here like a truck with bad brakes, moving fast in my too-high-for-payday heels.

My car—my car is the only real joy I have left in my life. It’s a beautiful Porsche, which I got when I was still on my allowance. It’s very fast, and it’s very red. It looks beautiful there in its parking spot, all red and shiny and ready for anything. Unfortunately, I’ll have to give it up soon, since I can’t afford the insurance anymore. But for now, I love every second I spend in my little red rocket. I am a real terror behind the wheel!

I open the door and settle down into the leather seat and for a moment or two I just sit. I love sitting in my Porsche—the odor of the black leather, the smooth leather steering wheel. I kick off my shoes, close the door, turn the key, fire her up. The engine growls appreciatively. My Porsche loves to have her motor running.

While the engine warms up, I run my hand over the gearshift. The manual transmission always gets comments from my friends. A woman driving a stick? I hear way too many phallus jokes. My boyfriend said my Porsche represents my subliminal desire to be a dominatrix—all wrapped up in black leather and leading a powerful machine around by its dick.

My boyfriend was a fucking moron. Which is why he’s now my ex-boyfriend.

In fact, I don’t think of my car as a man at all. To me, my Porsche is female. I like to think of her as a temperamental woman, one who carries me to the store or to see my friends and waits patiently for me to finish my errands. She’s my little errand girl. And then I have her drive me home, purring like a kitten as I rev her motor.

I don’t tell a soul about this female car thing, though. Given the choice between dick jokes and dyke jokes, I’ll take the dick jokes, thank you.

I take off the emergency brake and back my Porsche out and take her into first. I’m the only one driving in the garage, and I’m out in a flash. Traffic is light—everyone must be working late to finish their expense reports. Ha! I’m even hitting the lights. I only need to run one yellow and one red on the trip home. As I turn into the parking garage at home, I almost hit some old lady on the sidewalk, and I honk at her—beep-beep-beep! And the old lady gives me the finger! Ha! I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. An old lady giving me the finger! Christ, she must be fifty years old! I like that kind of spirit in an old bag!

The close parking spots are all full, so I park my Porsche in the handicapped spot and leave her there and go to the elevator lobby. The lobby from the parking garage is a chintzy little room. The building owners do a good job keeping the building up, but they don’t get down into the garage much. There are always old newspapers on the table and the ashtray is always full of old cigarette butts. And the elevator in this building is slow, slow, slow, slow, slow. And hanging around in this stupid little lobby is boring, boring, boring, boring, boring. Sometimes I take the stairs up to my apartment, but not today—my feet hurt, and I don’t want to tackle seven flights of stairs in heels. At least there is a lock on the outside door, and I don’t need to worry about creeps getting in and hassling me. My friend Alice lives in an apartment building with an open lobby, and she was beat up and robbed while she waited for the elevator. She was lucky. She could’ve been raped and murdered.

Ugh, I shouldn’t think about rape and murder, but what else is there to think about while waiting for the elevator? It’s the one thing I envy of men—they don’t need to worry about being raped and murdered. And it pisses me off. Why should I have to worry about it, and not, say, my idiot boss Larry? Or my idiot ex-boyfriend?

Finally, the elevator bell rings, the door opens, I hurry in and punch the sixth floor button. The door slowly closes and the elevator goes slowly into motion. I swear, it takes ten seconds to get from one floor to the next.

Parking. Lobby. One. Two. Three.

A girl could grow old waiting. At least the elevator doesn’t stop to let anyone else get aboard.

I finally get to my floor, and thankfully the hallway is empty—no neighbors to deal with. I’m home, I’m alone, I can finally relax. I let my purse dangle from my hand, and I sashay down the hall. Since I know no one is watching, I give my hips a sexy little swing. Although I wouldn’t mind if anyone was watching. Someone peeping through a crack in the door. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for little peeper perverts.

I need to unlock two locks to get in my apartment, the second one an impressively heavy deadbolt. The owners installed deadbolts when some old biddy in the building demanded them. At the time, I thought the biddy was a demented old fool, but now that I have the big lock, I like it. There’s something very secure about being inside a room knowing a deadbolt is set. Even so, that’s another thing that pisses me off. Why should I need a heavy lock to feel secure? Why should I need to protect myself? Why are there so many sickos in this world?

I’m inside. I close the door behind me, put away my coat and purse, and turn the deadbolt—clunk. There’s a note on the table from Jessica. Jessica is my roommate. After my parents cut me off, I had to rent out the spare room to help pay the rent. And my roomie turned out to be Jessica, a timid, plain girl who shops at Penney’s and almost never says a word. She spends most of her time alone in her room, frigging herself off or something. She never even gets phone calls, never says anything. Even when I see her face to face, she doesn’t talk to me. As a roommate, she’s a total disaster. The only good thing about her is she pays her rent on time.

The note says Jessica might be late and that she has a friend coming over. She might be late? Hell, I don’t even know when she usually gets in. “I gave Darlene a key, so you don’t need to stay if you don’t want to.” Jessica knows I like to go out at night, but the way my feet hurt, I could use a night off. And a girl’s night in doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Besides, it would be nice to finally meet one of Jessica’s friends.

But first I want to take a shower and get in my bathrobe. I kick off my shoes and stretch up high, blow the air out of my lungs, and take in a deep breath. Ah! I give my scalp a vigorous scratch and tousle my hair. It’ll be great to take a shower, wash my hair, curl up on a warm couch with a magazine. All clean and warm and quiet. And meet this girl Darlene. What would a friend of Jessica’s be like? Well, after all, she is a friend of Jessica’s. She’s probably a geek.

Since it’s my apartment, I get the master bedroom, which has the adjacent bathroom. Jessica’s bathroom is bigger and has a tub, but I prefer showers anyway. I go into the room and look at myself in the big mirror over the sink. My hair is a mess, and my makeup is a little worse for wear. I need to wash my face.

I take off my necklace and earrings, and that feels good. Now that I’m unattached, I have no rings to take off, and that feels good too! I pinch my earlobes to get the feeling back. I strip all my clothes off. I usually wash my face naked, to avoid getting water on my clothes. My ex-boyfriend thought washing my face naked was funny, but not as funny as the fact that I wash my face before I take a shower. “Why do you wash your face at the sink when you’re just going to wash it again in the shower?” he would ask.

The fucking moron.

I used to cheat on the bastard a lot. Thinking about it, I’m surprised I spent so much time with him. He was stupid, he had an ugly nasal laugh, and as often as not he was a premature ejaculator. I can’t tell you how many times he dropped his load all over my belly before he even got it in. If I hadn’t been cheating on him all the time, I would have been one frustrated girl.

I gently wash my face, rinse the soap off, and pat my face dry. I look at myself in the mirror. I like to look at myself naked, and sometimes I like other people to look at me naked too. I can be a real exhibitionist if I’m in the right mood. I am one of those girls who can eat anything she wants and not gain weight. And I absolutely love my tits. I hold the palms of my hands under them to press them up. They don’t sag much, so I can go braless on occasion. But they are big enough to wobble, so I don’t do it much.

I lean in and study my face. I’ve always had a good complexion—I can’t remember the last time I had a zit. But there are some things about my face I don’t like, like my practically non-existent eyelashes. And I wish my eyes were a deeper blue—in this light they are almost colorless gray. What I would give for Claudia Schiffer’s eyes! And my hair sucks. And my lips are a little on the thin side. So I’ll never be a fashion model. C’est la vie.

I love hot showers, and I turn the water up as hot as I can stand it. The bathroom steams up and I step into the stall, closing the glass door behind me. The hot water feels good on my thighs, and I slowly move under the hot spray. My skin flushes pink everywhere the water touches.

I lather up my hair, using too much shampoo, but that’s okay—I like the feel of lots of suds in my hair. I massage my scalp with my fingertips, working it hard, and I gently work the lather into my hair, from root to tip. My hair is all sudsy, and I massage my scalp again, and then rinse off. The hot water runs over my face and down my front. A pink flush from the hot water runs between my tits.

With a washcloth, I quickly wash the rest of my body, paying particular attention to my neck, my ears, my shoulders, between my legs, and under my arms. I already shaved my legs in the morning, and they still feel smooth—I won’t need to shave again for another day or two. I rinse off, and I’m clean.

But I don’t want to get out of the shower right away. Instead, I just stand here, letting the hot water run over me—over my shoulders, on my tits. I turn and it’s against my back. I turn and it’s on my belly. It’s hot and steamy and pleasant and nice.

I stand under the hot water and think about old lovers. The good ones. Well, not necessarily the good ones, but the memorable ones. The best ones were the kissers. Jackson, who was one hell of a kisser. He wasn’t much to look at, but he sure knew how to kiss. When I’m bored I sometimes think about what the perfect man should be, and he should always kiss like Jackson. Slow, soft, teasing. He had this way of kissing my upper lip—Christ, it makes my knees weak just thinking about it!

And then there was Brad—never caught his last name—who I fucked in a closet. That was memorable! And Bertrand, the Swiss boy I fucked twice in his filthy apartment. And Linus, my girlfriend Alice’s husband. Well, my ex-girlfriend’s ex-husband. Alice divorced Linus after she found out, and she hasn’t spoken to me since.

And Thomas, with the amazing dick. Very long, very thick, and not very coordinated. He fucked me sore, and when the pain didn’t go away, I thought he’d injured me. My gynecologist said my cervix was bruised. Jesus Christ, he bruised my goddamned cervix!

Thinking about men is not a good idea. I should think about something else, or I’m going to get mad all over again. So I think about nothing. I just stand under the hot water and feel it on me. But I’m bored, so fuck it, I’m out of here. I cut off the water with a twist of the wrist. The bathroom is steamed up and I can’t see a thing in the mirror. I turn on the fan and dry myself in fresh towels.

I rub a circle of steam off the mirror with a towel. I look at my face centered in the circle. Damn, I look good! I pat my skin with the towel. I put lotion on my face and neck, and on my legs. I pinch my nipples and make them stand up. Whee! That feels too good! Maybe after Darlene leaves tonight I’ll frig myself off. I didn’t do it this morning like I usually do. Twenty-four hours without a cum is too long! A long, leisurely late-night masturbation session would probably do me good.

I comb the tangles out of my hair, and the strands hang blonde and straight around my head. Seeing my hair straight like this reminds me how flat my hair is. I should get it done. If only I had enough money for the hairdresser. And I’d rather have bad hair than go to Supercuts. Sigh.

I dry off one last time, rubbing my skin pink with fluffy towels, invigorating my skin, making it prickle. I’m cooling off, and my nipples get all goosey.

I head back into the bedroom and put on a pair of men’s boxers (my sleeping attire of choice). I pull on my thick, warm bathrobe, tie the belt around my waist. And now I feel warm and comfortable. I hug myself, feel the warmth.

I go back out into the living room barefoot, pad-pad-pad, adjust the thermostat to 76. That should be nice. I settle down into the sofa cushions, get comfortable, and pick up a three-week-old Glamour. I’m looking for a good article—I remember one a few years ago that explained how to give a good blowjob or maybe something funny—but there’s just all this shit about job interviews and I’m flipping through the pages—

Wait! I thought I saw something move out of the corner of my eye!

I look around but I don’t see anything. The dining room is empty. The kitchen looks empty. Someone could’ve ducked back into the bedrooms—they could be lurking there, waiting.

But I’m probably just seeing things. I glance around one last time. I look back at my magazine but I’m thinking about what I saw out of the corner of my eye. I look around again. Still nothing. And I can’t concentrate now. What if someone is in the room? Hiding. Could someone be here? It’s a security building, and there’s a deadbolt. How could he get in? But I swear I saw something. I swear I feel something. I shiver. Is someone there? I look around and strain my ears. I don’t hear a thing, and I don’t see a thing. Am I being paranoid? Why do I have this feeling? My skin goes to goose bumps.

I put down my magazine and listen hard. I can hear my own breath, and I can hear my own heart. But there is nothing else. It is so quiet. How could it be so quiet? I feel a pressure, a presence. I definitely feel a presence. My heart thuds hard. I should get out of here. There’s somebody in here, I know it. I should call somebody or I should get out of here and go next door or somewhere safe. What if it’s a rapist? A sick rapist? The hairs on my arm stand up and I’m afraid—oh Christ I’m really afraid—so afraid—

BOOM!

A flash of light and a roar of thunder, and the sudden downpour of rain.

A storm!

I exhale hard, but I’m still trembling. It’s just a storm! I never liked storms when I was little. I was scared to death of them. I used to cower under my covers and cry. Now that I’m grown up, I’m over the fear. But I still don’t like storms.

That feeling—that feeling I felt of someone in the room—I bet I was just feeling the storm!

The rain booms on the pavement, a real downpour, and there are a few more flashes of lightning. I’m relieved—there’s no one in the room. It’s a real doozy, this storm. I pick up the magazine again and I’m breathing too hard and I try to look through the magazine but now I’m not sure. I don’t know. I’m not completely relieved. The unease is still in me. I put the magazine down again and listen. I can feel it, still feel that funny presence. I still feel something, and I’m not sure if it’s the storm or not. What if the uneasy feeling was from both the storm and a rapist? I should check the door, make sure it is still locked—I feel a pressure, I shiver, I feel something—a loud crackle—

BOOM!

I jump. My heart jumps. Wow, that flash was blindingly close and the hissing explosion hurts my ears. My heart skips—I swear it skips—and the lights go out, and it’s dark.

I can’t believe it’s so dark. What happened to the lights? I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. It’s dark, really dark. I don’t like the dark when it’s dark like this. I look around and there’s dull gray light from the window but everything else is totally black. And I swear I feel something. I know it. I know it now for sure. I wasn’t imagining anything. I’m sure of it—there is something nearby, something in the room! But I know there can’t be anyone in the room, but I swear there is someone in the room! Someone in the dark! I should hide, wait for whoever is there to leave and forget about me, but I’m afraid to move in the dark. What if I run into him in the dark? Please let it not be a rapist or a killer! Oh God, something moved! I saw something move—a flicker of shadow in front of the window. There is someone in the room! My heart thumps in my ears and I want to cry. Someone is here in the room!

And another flash of lightning, and I can see for a moment in the flash and the figure is right in front of me, right in front of me—a tall dark figure standing over me looking down at me and I’m going to die, I know I’m going to die. Oh God he’s huge and he’s right in front of me, a big shadow of a man, and I’ll be raped and killed and I scream—

AAAAY!

I can’t help myself, and I shut up, but I can’t hold it back—

AAAAY! —I scream again. My throat hurts I scream so hard. I don’t want to be raped. I don’t want to be killed! I can’t stop screaming—

AAAAY!

And the lights flash on and I can’t bear to look at my attacker. I close my eyes tight. Please just leave me alone. I tense up for the attack. I hold my breath with my eyes closed tight.

I wait. My heart thumps and I wait. But there is no attack. Why doesn’t he attack? I can feel him, just a foot away, standing over me. I breathe once, and I screw up the courage to look.

It’s a woman! A dark-haired woman! Right in front of me. Why is she standing so close? I can feel her breath on my face. “I am Darlene,” she says.

Darlene?

Oh yes, of course! Jessica’s friend! It’s Jessica’s friend. I exhale with relief. Not a rapist at all, and I can’t help but laugh. “You scared me,” I say, and I laugh because it feels so good. She backs away, backs all the way back to the front door and now I can breathe again.

She is tall, very tall. She has a black overcoat on, her calves are bare—I don’t think she’s wearing hose—and she has ruby shoes with five-inch stiletto heels. I like heels as much as the next girl, but not the real high skinny ones. How does she walk in those things? But it’s a snap for her. She steps back as natural as being barefoot. Her hair is beautiful, black and lustrous, tumbling down in loose curls around her shoulders. Her lips are deep red, and they look soft and moist. And her eyes—her eyes are absolutely black. I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes so black. She’s smiling at me with red moist lips, and she’s staring, staring hard with those weird black eyes. Her stare makes me want to fidget. My knee leaps uncontrollably, like a reflex, and I grab it. I’m trembling. I need to calm down. With the lights out, when I thought she was a rapist, she really gave me a scare.

“So you are Virginia,” she says, smiling with pearly teeth. Her voice is a soprano, sweet, high and penetrating. She unbuttons her overcoat and tosses it away, just dumping it on the floor. She’s wearing an incredible sleeveless red dress, stretchy, tight and very short. What party did she just come from? Wherever she was, I’ll bet the boys couldn’t keep their eyes off her.

Her body is incredible. She has big, round tits, and her nipples are prominent, and there’s no way she’s wearing a bra. The scoop neckline shows a lot of cleavage. She has a flat tummy and nice round hips.

She steps off to the side and paces across the room—slow, deliberate steps, her heels clicking—and she doesn’t take her eyes off me. Her body almost overpowers that dress. It struggles to cling to her muscles as she moves. “With a name like Virginia, are you a virgin?” she asks.

“No, I’m not a virgin,” I answer. She paces along, and now I’m not sure I trust her. What kind of question was that, anyway? Am I a virgin? What kind of question is that?

She laughs, a big, robust laugh. She just throws her head back and it roars out of her. She has a slim, long neck. Her throat pulses with her laugh. “No, I don’t suppose you are,” she says. She paces almost to the far wall and stops, turns to face me. She pulls a chair from the table and leans toward me over the back of the chair, and I can look right into her deep cleavage. Her skin is smooth and brown. My leg bounces in my grip.

She stays there bent over, just staring. I’m shaking. What is she staring at? She stands upright again, still looking. She runs her hands through her shiny black hair. She shakes her head and her hair tumbles around her head like a lion’s mane.

And that smell! I swear I smell something—her perfume or something. It’s nice, a little strong, but spicy and musky and intense. A little like sweat and a little like sex. She starts pacing again, retracing her steps, crossing the room in the other direction. “Do you think I have a nice body, Virginia?” she asks. And she walks along, and she does a slow turn, turning clear around, showing me her back, which is bare in that dress, and the tight red dress clinging to her bottom. She spins clear around and paces across the room again, watching me.

“I-I was just r-reading,” I stammer. It’s a stammer. I don’t even know why I said it. A dumb thing to say, but I thought I should say something and I wasn’t thinking. Darlene just laughs, another powerful burst from deep in her lungs. She stops near the front door, on the landing, and stands there, facing me. “Do you like my breasts, Virginia? Do you think I have beautiful breasts?” And she runs her hands all over her tits, grabbing herself and squeezing and massaging them. Wow! Her nipples are really hard now. She just stares at me as she feels herself up. I can’t believe I’m watching this!

She crosses her arms in front of her, each hand on the opposite shoulder. With her arms crossed like that, she reminds me of an Egyptian sarcophagus. But only for a moment. She flutters her eyelashes at me, like she’s flirting. And she pushes the straps of her dress over her round shoulders and pulls the front of her dress down, and pulls her arms through, and now her breasts are bare. Deeply tanned, huge dark nipples. Her tits are bigger than grapefruits, and I find myself salivating at the thought of grapefruit. And not even an inch of sag. Those are the most gravity-defying tits I’ve ever seen. They are incredible!

“I like to touch myself, Virginia,” she says, and she feels her bare tits, squeezing the nipples and making them stand up obscenely. “It feels so good. Do you do this to yourself, Virginia? Do you like to touch your breasts?”

I think I nod, but I’m not sure if I really do. I can’t believe what she’s doing, squeezing those beautiful big tits. She licks her fingers and squeezes her nipples with her slicked-up fingers. She grins evilly at me. Her eyes bore into me. And then she pushes her dress down, using both hands, down over the curve of her hips, rocking her pelvis back and forth until the dress falls freely to the floor. She leaves it there like a red puddle, steps out of it, and takes two steps toward me. She’s only wearing her heels and a tiny red G-string.

And now her scent is really strong. It’s so strong it’s distracting, and I catch myself just breathing it in, smelling it, letting it fill my lungs. She steps out of her panties, the little stringy thing hanging from one finger, and she drops it to the floor, and she’s naked. She has a little swirl of black hair between her legs.

“Look at me, Virginia,” she says, her voice low and penetrating. I’m looking. I can’t stop looking at her. She is incredible. I’ve never seen a woman like her before. I feel nervous. My nerves are singing, and I feel a trembling in my belly. I try to breathe in more oxygen, but I just get a lungful of her odor. My head doesn’t feel right. “Do you want me, Virginia? Do I excite you?”

My leg hops up and I grab it, hold it down, but it jumps again. My head feels light, like I’m hyperventilating. The room seems to be shimmering. I don’t trust my voice. I should answer her question, but what was the question?—whoa!—she’s right in front of me! Right there. I didn’t even see her come forward, but there she is, not two feet in front of me, her naked hips right in front of my face, those cute black pubes just a few inches from my eyes. And she spins off to the side and sits on the couch, right beside me, and she leans right up close. Her shoulder bumps mine. She’s radiating a strong heat, like an overheated engine. How did she get so close, right by my side? I’m not feeling quite right. I feel woozy or something. I can’t seem to concentrate. I shake my head, try to clear the haze.

Darlene laughs, and her laugh is loud and powerful, a thumping sound that throbs in my ears. “Look at me, Virginia,” she says. I meet her eyes. She’s looking down, and I look down and she swings one leg up over the back of the couch. Wow! Her pussy is right there! A prominent mound with just a trace of black hair, thick outer labia, protruding inner labia, and a gigantic clitoris all swollen and exposed.

Her clit is amazing—a fat, bulging thing. And that smell! So strong it stings my nose. “Touch me, Virginia,” she whispers. It’s just a whisper, but her voice fills my head, resonating in my ears. I don’t think I want to. I don’t want to touch a woman that way, but her pussy is gorgeous. It’s really gorgeous, and that clit! She rocks her hips up and spreads herself apart with both hands. Oh my God! She’s all open and dewy and stinky. And she’s hungry—I can tell she’s hungry for me. The urge to kiss her cunt sweeps over me. I want to kiss it. All I’d have to do is lean down and put my mouth on her.

I lick my fingers and get them all wet. My heart is pounding so hard, I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my blood. My hands tremble. I reach out and I touch her clit, lightly, with two fingers. Darlene groans and rocks up against my hand, and I stroke it, sliding my slippery fingers all over the swollen bulb. And she arches her back up and shouts, and her body jerks spasmodically—hard—a half dozen or so violent jerks. I don’t know how her luscious stink could possibly be stronger, but it is—oh, my head! I can’t think! I’m about to pass out!

I’m shaking. My whole body is shaking, and Darlene sits up and grabs my shoulders and pulls me to her. Her body crushes against mine. She’s still jerking with her climax. I can feel it in her, and she squeezes me with powerful arms and the air rushes out of me. Her hands run up my back, all the way up my back and she’s holding my head, and she leans away a little. I look into her dark, sparkling eyes. She’s beautiful—so unbelievably beautiful—those incredible black eyes. I turn my head and kiss her, and she laughs softly into my mouth, her soft lips, her voice vibrating in my mouth, and the kiss blossoms. I wrap myself around her and she’s pulling at my robe, opening the front, and her tongue presses into my mouth and she’s pushing my robe off, off my arms, and she presses her body against mine. I feel her nakedness and her soft heat against me, against my breasts and belly.

She struggles with my boxer shorts, yanking at them hard, pulling me around this way and that. She gets them down around my knees and I help her kick them off, and now I’m naked too. We’re kissing again—oh, can she kiss! She’s so hungry! Our arms all over each other. Her leg fits between my legs and she squeezes my nipples hard and Christ I can’t kiss her anymore. I can’t do it. I’m passing out! I pull off and she comes after me with her sweet lips, but I pull away and gasp for air. “Do you love me, Virginia?” Her voice is right in my head. “Tell me you love me.” What a question! I gulp lungfuls of air, but I can’t get enough oxygen. My lungs burn. “Tell me you love me,” she growls—a loud menacing voice that scares me. Is she angry with me? “I love you I love you I love you,” I say. How could I not love such a woman? And she kisses me, and it’s all right. She’s not angry. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, nips it with her teeth. Her hands on the backs of my legs, stroking my legs up and down and I want her to touch me, touch my sex. I stretch my legs and press up against her, and up she comes, lightly between my legs from behind, and she holds my ass, pulls me into her—oh!—she touched my anus! She rubs it with her finger, and I’m embarrassed, but she just stops kissing me and laughs and tickles my anus some more.

She burrows in and she kisses my neck, kisses my neck, lips and tongue on my skin, kissing. I love that. I love it a lot and I tell her, “I love that.” Her tongue up and down—oh!—I throw my head back. Her tongue up and down my neck, up and down, her open mouth on my neck. She sucks—suction and hard kisses and up to my earlobe, sucking, her tongue fat in my ear, her soft hair on my cheek, and back down again. She nibbles my neck, lips and teeth. I need her closer, my love Darlene closer. My hands on her bare back, her shoulders. I pull her close, feel her hot skin on me. She is so soft, and she squeezes my breasts—oh!—her thigh works between my legs, rubbing, rubbing. I can’t breathe hard enough, and I can’t get close enough to her, and I’m on fire. My pussy is on fire—

Ow!—ow!—

Jesus, she bit me! Hard! It hurts! But no, it’s not too bad. A love bite. I’ll have a hickey, but it stings. It stings a lot! I grab her head and pull her mouth hard into my neck. “Again,” I whisper, but I can barely hear myself—just my own hard breath and her hard breath. Her tongue slithers against my neck, into the sting of the bite. I hold her head, her soft hair in my hands, hold her tight, and her mouth opens wide, opens onto my neck, pressing hard, lips, tongue, the tips of her teeth pressing on my neck. My heart pounds, pounding in my temples. Her mouth wide, sucking, her wet tongue on me, the teeth pressing my neck, pressing, harder. Take me Darlene, don’t tease me. “Take me Darlene!” Give me your love—

Ow!—fuck!—oh God, it hurts!

She’s in!

Tears in my eyes. Christ, I can’t believe how it hurts! Her teeth inside me.

I can’t breathe. Oh God it hurts so much. I can’t believe how much it hurts, and she sucks, drinking me—oh Christ, I’m cumming!—oh!—the spasms in my sex, the long liquid waves. Oh God, her teeth move in and out. I’m crying. I press up into her. The waves go in and out. She sucks deeply from my neck. My sweet Darlene, I am yours!

She stops! She’s gone. The joyous waves still flow through me and the wet trickle down my neck and I’m filled with emptiness. I cry out, “Darlene!” and I reach for her. I can’t find her. My eyes won’t focus, and the beautiful climax still flows through me. And now her mouth is on my arm. I feel her beautiful touch, in the crook of my arm. She bites into my arm, the beautiful stinging pain. Lord, dear Lord!

And she stops, licks the blood from my arm, her tongue bloody red, and she kisses up my arm, nuzzling into my armpit. I hold her under my wing, her soft hair on my breasts, tickling my sides, and her teeth are under my arm, sinking into the flesh under my arm, and I’m cumming again. Stars drift before my eyes. And she stops again, moves to my breast, sucks my nipple. My lover sucks and pulls with her lips and tongue, so gentle. I can’t breathe. I can’t catch my breath—oh God!—my head, my head feels light, and she kisses down my belly, tickling with her tongue, down, and I spread my legs wide and she’s between my legs and she kisses me there. I touch my neck and my fingers come away covered with blood, and her long tongue licks up my sex, her lips on my clit, pursing, sucking and I’m cumming again. I’m crying, tears in my eyes, the waves, the arching waves, and Darlene opens her mouth on my pussy, her mouth wide over me, and her teeth enter the flesh of me. Her mouth is on me. Her teeth tear. She takes me. Take me Darlene! She slurps my blood, the lovely hurt, sucking, drinking deeply. The waves. My eyes open, but it is dark. It is so dark. She drinks me. The dark waves. She draws me out. It is so dark, like night, like a hole. My love takes me in. My Darlene, my dark sweet Darlene, with black hair and eyes. It is so dark, so dark. I dream of the night. My Darlene. Darlene in the night, and darkness, blackness, Darlene, Darlene…

I’m dreaming, dreaming of nothing, and it is cold. I am so cold. My stomach hurts. I want to vomit, but no, I won’t. I open my eyes. No, I am not dreaming. I think I’m awake. And she is beside me. The heat of her is amazing. She’s burning up, and I am so cold. I touch her with my fingertips, feel her heat. She is naked. Her skin is pink, like a baby.

I shiver. She just lies there on her back, staring up, blood on her mouth. Lord, is she dead? My heart rushes at the thought! But no, she looks so alive. Her beautiful breasts—all pink like pillows for my head. I roll toward her—ow!—pain shoots through my crotch! I don’t dare look at myself there, at the wounds in my pussy. My neck bite is not bleeding at all. In fact, the blood is gone. Did Darlene clean me up? Or did I just imagine it? But it hurts. A painful ache. I did not imagine it at all.

I lay my head on her breasts and feel the heat against my cheek. I breathe the sweat of her soft skin. I want to sleep, to close my eyes and sleep, but I love the heat of my Darlene. And her big dark nipples. I press my nose against the nipple and it stiffens up. I kiss right next to it, all around it, and it strains, hugely, sticking up like a child’s thumb. I put my mouth over it and suck.

I taste something! Is she lactating? A tinge of something metallic and thick and hot. But barely a trickle. I nip the rubbery nipple with my teeth and I get another taste. I bite it harder and the flow starts, a continuous flow. I suck and chew, and the hot liquid fills my mouth and I swallow. It is hot—very hot—down my throat. Heat fills my belly and heat spreads through me. The cold in my body eases and I suck and swallow again, and the heat spreads, all the way to my fingers and toes.

I drink deeply at my lover’s breast. The beautiful heat fills my body, and a warm dreaminess fills my head. Ah, I could do this forever! I want to be close to my Darlene, and I feel stronger now. I can move. I crawl up on top of her, press my bare skin against hers. She is still so hot. Her heat penetrates me, and I look into her open eyes—black, blank, unblinking. Does she see me? I kiss her brow. Her long dark lashes are lovely, and the fold of the lid. The staring eyes, so black I can’t see the pupils.

Her lips are full and red and speckled with blood. I lick my thumb and touch a blood spot, and it smears away. Her lips part, just a crack, and I kiss them—soft and warm and lovely. I lick her face, cleaning the blood. I am her puppy, licking my master’s face.

She is clean, her face ruddy and inert. I kiss her lips, force my tongue in her mouth, run my tongue across her teeth. I hold her face and kiss her hard—oh, my love!—I look into her dark eyes, staring, and I kiss her again. I force my knees between her thighs, feel her fiery pussy against my leg. She is so hot! Can she feel me? Do I excite her? I kiss her, deep, over and over, nuzzle into the warmth of her neck and kiss her neck. My fingers flutter across the hollows of her collarbones. Does she like this?

I draw my hands down to her breasts and brush across her nipples. They are straining fabulously. I flick my fingers across them a few times, and move around to tickle her breasts, underneath and along the sides. I hold them, one in each hand. I want to kiss them again. I suck the tip of her chin, then down, with my tongue, down her neck into the hollow at the top of her breastbone, then down, slowly, between her breasts. The heat is heavy and heady. I squeeze her breasts together with my face between. They are lovely. I lavish them with kisses.

I chew and suckle the other nipple, and feel her hot milk fill my belly and heat my body. I feel strong now, very strong, which is good, because I need my strength.

Why do I need my strength? I’m not sure, but I know for sure I need it. But for what? My Darlene is strong enough to protect me. I’ve never seen a creature so strong. But then she stares so passively—she looks so empty. Could she save me in case of danger?

Perhaps I need my strength to please my love. I am here to make love to my Darlene. The greater my strength, the greater the pleasure she will feel. That is something to use my strength for!

Or perhaps I should be protecting her. She is so vulnerable like this. If I am strong, I can repel anyone who wishes to damage her. A rush surges in my ears. Would someone dare harm my Darlene? Am I strong enough to protect her? I feel weak. I am stronger, but not strong enough. Darlene’s milk cannot make me the guardian she deserves and needs. I am so inadequate!

But I must do what I can. I get up and check the doors. They are still locked, so there is no immediate danger. The pain in my pussy is bad, but not unbearable. I can walk without difficulty. I gather the courage to examine myself. Two short tears at the top and to the side. What is under there? If the wounds were deeper, what would be damaged? There’s no bleeding, just yellow-pink flesh showing inside. I press with my fingertips. The gashes close up, the flesh sticks, and there are just the two parallel cuts in the skin. If I’m careful, I think they will heal. Should I get stitches? It doesn’t seem necessary. They should heal by themselves. I can barely see the wound at all.

I straighten up, pull myself erect, and a dizziness hits me. Dark swirls, and I reach out for balance but I can’t find anything to hold and now everything is black. Black, black, I can’t see a thing. I hold myself steady, steady. Careful, Virginia, wait for it to pass. It’s really dark, but now I see something, just a hint of light. The darkness fades, the light returns and I can see again. I breathe deeply, and breathe again. I reach out for the back of a chair. I’m okay now. I’m just fine. The darkness is gone but I’m woozy. But maybe I’m not as strong as I thought.

Even so, if they want to kill my Darlene, they’ll have to kill me first. I’ll put up all the fight I can muster. Pretty Darlene, all pink and sleeping.

I go to her and lie down on top of her hot body. I kiss her soft lips. Do I feel her breath? Maybe, but I’m not sure. A moist heat exudes from her all over. It’s like her whole body is breathing. I love the feel of it against my tits and thighs. And that lovely stench. I lift her arm and press my face into the hairless, stinky armpit. I breathe deeply—whee!—my head reels!

I suck her nipples again, but I can’t get much milk from them. Still, I love Darlene’s big breasts. I love holding them and kissing them and sucking them. I love the way her nipples expand in my mouth and the softness of her skin. And most of all, I love that she enjoys it. Although she doesn’t move a muscle, I know in my heart that she loves the way I touch her breasts.

But I know something she would love even more! I’ve never given a woman head, but for my Darlene, I would do anything. I only hope I can do it right, that I can give her an orgasm with my mouth. If I can give her an orgasm, I know she will love me more!

I kiss down her tight stomach, tongue her belly button. I’m feeling hot now, flushed. Her pussy is just a few inches away, and I can’t wait to kiss her there. I stroke her thighs with my fingers, and gently push them apart.

I rub my lips through the sparse black hair, and the smell wafts up and my heart thuds hugely in my chest. I feel drunk, excited and warm and drunk. I sweep my head back and forth, skimming my lips over her mound, feeling the coarse hairs on my lips, down slowly until I feel her swollen clitoris against my lower lip. I gather up spit in my mouth, my tongue dripping with it, and I push against her clit, lick it up and down, curl my tongue around it. I suck it with wet lips and drown it with saliva and suck it some more. It stands up like a soldier.

I move around and get between her legs. I can see her entire cunt now, all right there, red and wet and swollen all over. The lips puffy thick with excitement. And there’s a dark stain at the bottom, deep red-brown from her vagina and down toward her anus.

She’s menstruating! How sweet!

I nuzzle my face up into her sweet cunt, run my mouth and nose and cheeks around in it. The blood is interesting. I want to look at it some more, but she’s so soft and hot and her glorious stink, and I kiss her on the pad of each outer lip, one side then the other, teasing her. And I kiss her clitoris some more, but I want to see the trickle of blood again. I want to go back to it. I want to taste the blood of her curse. Her pussy is so sweet, but I’m drawn to the blood, and I lick down these fleshy lips, slowly, wetly, until my tongue settles into the rim of her vagina.

Her taste is exquisite, bitter and musky with a coppery bite. I swirl my tongue lightly in the opening, and she opens up, just opens right up and a muscle clenches, and hot sticky liquid flows out of her, right onto my tongue. It’s bloody stuff. I can taste the blood in it, and it flows into my mouth and coats my whole mouth, and I swallow.

Oh! Christ! It burns in my throat, scalds my throat. I can feel it burning all the way down and my stomach wrings up in response to the burning liquid. I hiccup, and another mouthful of her bloody discharge is filling my mouth. Where did it all come from? I press my mouth up hard. I don’t want to miss it. And I swallow it. The burning hurts! My stomach jerks and leaps and a searing heat is radiating out into my body. I’m burning up. Sweat pours out of me. Every pore is open and I swallow another mouthful of her, and her body is jerking under my mouth. She’s cumming. There’s stuff gushing out of her cunt, into my mouth and I’m swallowing big mouthfuls of it, desperately. I don’t dare miss any, and the burning heat is shooting through me, through my legs and arms. Even my skin is burning, and my own cunt is on fire too. And I swallow again. I press my mouth right up over her cunt and suck the caustic goo out of her. It’s incredible stuff, and a fire burns up inside me, radiating from within, shooting through me as I suck the fountain of blood from her beautiful cunt.

I have to stop. I can’t take any more. I pull off her with a smack and gasp for air. What’s happening to me? I feel like I’m about to explode. There’s something happening to me. There’s something in me. It’s in my blood! It’s coursing through me, burning into my veins and I shake myself, shake my arms and legs. Blood floods out of Darlene’s cunt, a pool of dark red staining the floor, a hemorrhage. I can’t stand still. I stand up and shake myself. My body feels like it’s growing from within, filling me up from the inside. My skin isn’t big enough to hold me. My pussy wound is bleeding again, blood trickling down my thigh, but it doesn’t hurt. Not even a little. I grab myself in the crotch and intense pleasure shoots through me. I’m cumming. Oh God, cumming hard! Oh! I double over with the pleasure of it. I can barely stand it. Oh! It’s good. It’s good!

I love it. I love it. But it stops. Finally, my climax stops. I’m breathless, and I feel enormous, tall and broad-shouldered, and blood is there between Darlene’s legs, wasted on the floor, soaked into the carpet. And I go down and drink it, sucking it out of the fibers and licking it from Darlene’s cunt. I’ll never get it all. What a fool I am! How could I let this blood go to waste! But an incredible strength builds up in me, springs tensing inside my muscles. I need more of her blood, and I suck it up desperately. And Darlene is responding now. Her body responds to my touch.

I swing around over on top of her and grind my cunt down on her face. I need Darlene to please me too, to use her mouth on my cunt. I bury my face in her cunt and suck her up, twisting my head in and driving my tongue right up her vagina. Darlene groans with pleasure, and her mouth finds my oozing wound. Her mouth is on the old tears, sucking my blood into her mouth, as I suck her heavy menstrual blood into mine.

We drink deeply of one another, sharing our most intimate thing, our blood. And my heart and body spiral up and my head reels—dizzy, dizzy swirls—and our hearts throb together. I can feel her heart. My pulse feeds her. Hers feeds mine. Our blood mixes together. Our hearts beat together. And we are just one, one being driven by two bursting hearts.

Ah, oh God, here it comes—oh!—a huge spasm in my cunt, hard, brutal—and another!—I scream out—and I twist off with the power of the clench and I flop off—oh!—an explosion!—rocks me. Did I scream? This feeling, this feeling is incredible—oh God!—the delirious joy I feel as this amazing climax pulses through me. With each ecstatic throb, I feel myself growing stronger, more powerful. My body! My joyous body! The power in me is bursting into me from within, so strong I can’t control it. And I try to stand up but—ugh!—Christ!—my convulsion knocks me to the ground and I can only thrash with the rapture. Thrashing with a joy as I turn into something I wasn’t before.

The throbbing finally diminishes, slowly, beautifully. My body is delirious with pleasure, and I feel myself begin to recover. My thighs are trembling. I can barely breathe, but I think I can stand up. I pull myself erect. The power continues to grow in me, and it seems like I’m expanding still. I look at myself. I tingle all over, tingling inside. I’m aware of my body like I’ve never been aware before. I swear I can feel every artery, the blood swishing through my veins. The sound of my own blood. And I can sense my nerves, my organs. I can feel the hormones injected into the bloodstream. My muscles are all individual things, each one growing stronger with each passing second.

My clit! I can’t believe my clit! It is hugely swollen, five times bigger than before! Nerves tangle and fill the enormous thing. It’s hyper-sensitive, and with a little flick of my pinky—oh!—I’m cumming again! Oh sweet Jesus! I love this!

It’s over. I fight it off and my cum is over. My own strength is overpowering me. I need to do something. I need to jump. And I jump, powerfully. The air swishing in my ears, nearly clear across the room. My back and my legs throb with the excitement of the exertion, and I jump again, swinging my arms and crashing them down on an end table that is suddenly before me. And it shatters under the blow. The splinters of wood under my fist is shocking. Did I do that? This is wonderful! I love the violence of breaking wood!

And there is something else, a feeling I get, a feeling of people crowding around me. They seem to be everywhere.

I check my pussy wounds again, where Darlene had reopened the cuts. I press my fingers against the two open tears. I don’t like the marring of my body and an instant of hatred for Darlene rises up. How can I punish her? I wish the flaws were gone and I rub them—

Oh my! The cuts are gone! They are just gone! One minute they were there, the next, not a trace. Just smooth, flawless skin. Did my touch do that? Did I do that to myself?

I quickly try a mole on my arm, and with a touch it too is gone. Ha! I can’t believe it!

I am still growing. I can feel it, but not as fast now. Something amazing has happened. I feel capable, capable of anything, anything at all. The limits of my old body have melted away. I feel powerful! I feel invincible!

I look to Darlene, who lies in a dazed stupor on the floor. She is awake, but she is not completely aware of her surroundings. She seems so small there. I can’t believe she seems so small. She used to be so strong. Has she changed? Or is it just me? Is it just my new power?

I want to look at myself. I step over Darlene to get to the bathroom. What does this new powerful body look like?

In the mirror, it’s just me. It looks just like me, but I am still nothing like I was. I run my fingers through my hair, and it comes away with a blonde luster and thickness I’ve never had before. This is incredible! I can’t believe I can change myself! I look at my hands. Is it in my hands? They don’t look any different, but they feel strong! Very strong!

Or does it come from within me? Is it a force of my will? An experiment. I look close into the mirror, examine my eyes. My irises are light blue, nearly gray in color. And with a thought, just a suggestion to myself, the color deepens, turning darker, until they glow a rich aquamarine. And my eyelashes lengthen, thicken, and I leave behind forever the anemic lashes I’ve always hated. No more mascara for me!

My heart is pounding! And what about my breasts? I love my breasts, but they could be bigger. Like Darlene’s. I want big sexy breasts, breasts that drive men insane with desire. I concentrate on them, and they slowly grow, like ripening fruit, bulging, firming, and I command my nipples to grow, thicken. The erectile tissue expanding. I give myself full, high, firm D-cups. D-cups! Who cares about cup size! I will never again wear a bra! Why constrain such lovely tits! I grab them and squeeze them, and a shock of pleasure rushes through me.

And my cunt! My clitoris already hugely swollen, I lengthen and tighten the barrel of my vagina, move my cervix back. I want to take big cocks in there! And the nerve endings—I can control the nerve endings. They tangle and thicken and fill my whole cunt, swirling through my clit, surrounding my vagina, into my labia, giving myself grossly sensitive erogenous zones. Dare I? Ha! I fill my anus with nerve endings!

My cunt is absolutely gorgeous! It seems a shame to conceal it, all this curly blonde hair hiding it. I run my hand over the puffy mound, and the hair falls away, leaving it hairless, bare, exposed.

I do more things to myself, making myself look as sexy as I can. I give myself a curvier hip, tighten up the muscles of my ass. All the excess fat in my body—gone! I give myself pouty lips. I make my legs just a little bit longer. I make my waist just a little bit narrower. I kill the hair on my legs and under my arms.

I can change myself! I can do anything I want to myself!

I am so incredibly beautiful. I just want to look at myself! I smile and think hard, and all the blemishes on my skin disappear. My skin is just smooth and perfect, not a freckle or mole or scar!

I am perfect! I am the most beautiful creature in the world!

A rustling at the door, and Darlene enters the bathroom, her legs wobbling and weak. She stands and looks at me from the doorway, leaning against the jamb, but I can’t be concerned with her there. I just want to look at myself, admire my perfection. I am so damn sexy! I know if anyone saw me, they would want to fuck me! And the way I feel, I might just take them up on it!

“My God,” Darlene says, “Virginia!”

I don’t want to pay attention to Darlene. I wish she would go away. I want to be left alone to admire myself. I want to masturbate and make myself cum a million times!

But Darlene stumbles into the bathroom and leans against the vanity. She’s only a few feet away, staring right at me. She distracts me, and I don’t like that! I pretend to ignore her and I look at my big beautiful breasts.

“What have you done?” Darlene says, and she touches my shoulder. How dare she touch me! I turn on her and swing my hand against her face, and I feel her skull crack against my hand. She stumbles back, crashing against the door and down to the floor. I’m going to kill her, destroy her, rip her into tiny pieces! Dare touch me! I’m on her, pinning her against the floor, driving my knees against her pelvis, pulverizing it with my fury. But she doesn’t struggle. She just says sweet things in my head. “I love you Virginia. I want to kiss you and love you and touch you.” I will kill her, but how? Smash her face? Rip apart her chest? How do I focus my strength? “I love you Virginia. You are so beautiful. I want to make love to you.”

She loves me. Of course she loves me. How could she not love me? She is beautiful and powerful, but I am more beautiful and more powerful. “I want to kiss you all over.” She loves me. I could kill her, but she loves me. And I think of her kissing me and my cunt clutches with the expectation.

I wonder if she will die anyway, from the crushed skull and hip. If she dies, no matter, but I hope she lives. I hop away, and her broken body lies in an unnatural L shape. A huge bloody bruise covers one entire side of her crushed left hip. I stand over her. “Don’t you ever cross me!” I demand.

“Never, never, my love. I would never cross you,” she tells me, and before my eyes, she begins to heal herself. The break in her skull fills in, and the bruise on her face disappears. Slowly, her hip reforms, the bone building back up. I can almost see right into her, see the pelvis reform, and her body straightens, fills. She carefully sits up, testing herself, then stands. She shakes her legs, hops from foot to foot.

I am amazed. Is this something I can do too?

“Let me teach you,” Darlene says. “There are things you need to know.” She comes up to me and turns my body back to the mirror. She stands behind me, her hands on my hips, and she presses her lips against the back of my shoulder.

“What am I?” I ask. My body looks human, but there is no way I am human.

“We are monsters,” Darlene whispers. “We are powerful monsters.” She rubs her face against my neck. “And we draw our power from the blood of humans.”

Yes, of course. I am a monster, a glorious monster, a hundred times more powerful than any human. I clench my fist and feel the power in me. And their blood! Their hearts! A yearning fills my belly. It would be so easy! I could destroy any human, suck her rich blood, devour her still-beating heart. How could they stop me? The thought of some human using a baseball bat, or a pistol, and I laugh at the thought. Their weakness is pathetic!

“Be careful, Virginia,” Darlene whispers. “They may be weak, but you are not invulnerable.” Her warm hands slide around and she holds my beautiful breasts.

I feel a stab in my chest, and I know instantly what she means. My heart! The humans need only take my heart!

“My child,” Darlene says, and she drops to her knees. She turns me around to face her, and she kneels at my feet, looking up at me from her place of worship. “Made from the blood of my womb.” She hugs my hips, presses her cheek against my hairless cunt. “Like a little girl,” she says, and kisses me there. I allow her to lick my cunt and I feel the pleasure in some hidden recess of my body. But my mind is on other things. Darlene’s words ring in my thoughts. I am not invulnerable. I must protect my heart. First and foremost, I need a plan to survive.

I wake from a dream of total blackness with Darlene sleeping in my arms. I don’t even remember falling asleep. I don’t even remember how I got into bed. I kiss Darlene’s brow, but her body is as cold as a corpse. An intense thirst hits me. My throat feels scratched and raw, like it was mauled by an animal. And my stomach twists with discomfort. Darlene’s hair tickles my nose. The thought of drawing on her cold blood repulses me. I release her and roll away, sit up. Thank God the ache in my stomach eases. I breathe in.

I can feel them—all of them. They seem to be everywhere around me. I feel them but I can’t see them. It’s as if they are crowding around on the other side of the walls. Who are they, and why do I feel them? They are humans. I know they are humans. It’s like I am a sideshow freak, and they gather around to watch me from the other side of the walls. I stand up and I feel their individual presences, so strong I could almost bump into them. But they are nowhere. I don’t see them at all. Are they really humans? What is going on? What is this thing I feel?

And there is something else. Something in the other room—Jessica’s room—something different. Jessica. What has happened to Jessica?

I go to the door to Jessica’s room and push it open. Jessica is there, on the bed, dead. Her chest ripped open and her blood soaking the mattress. Her eyes are wide and glassy, her mouth open in rigid surprise. I go over to her corpse and look into her open chest. Her heart is gone.

Did Darlene do this? Did Darlene kill her? Did Darlene take her heart?

No matter. Jessica is cold and utterly lifeless. She might as well be a pile of stones.

I forget her and go to the bedroom window. It is night outside but the streetlight illuminates the block, and I see the world outside like it was strong daylight. The street is filthy, filled with the rancid scent of humans and vermin and engine exhaust. I never noticed it before, but I live in a pile of garbage. It is disgusting. Why did I think this place was something special? How much do I pay for rent? I can’t remember. But surely it is too much.

A woman walks by—a whore. A whore walking by on the street below sets my nervous system on edge.

I watch her, and I am surprised. The more I look at her, the more she fascinates me. Her body radiates. I can see it—deep red waves flickering, like an old ember, all around her. I have never seen a person like this before! And I swear I can smell her, a dull, over-cooked scent. Without a doubt, it is her. It is in my nose, but surely it can’t be the whore I smell. I am six floors above her!

She is not well. There is something wrong with her, an annoying illness that she can’t seem to shake off. Annoying? Why do I know it is annoying? I listen harder and I think I can hear her. She’s muttering or something, saying things that register in my head. Has something happened to my sense of smell? My sense of hearing? The whore is annoyed at feeling a little under the weather. She doesn’t want to be out tonight. She paces down the street and breathes heavily. She is looking for men. Men she can blow or fuck so she can get money and pay her creditors.

I concentrate and it’s like the whore opens up for me. She is young. Just turned eighteen years old. But she is mature beyond her years. The life of a thirty-year-old packed into that tight, young body. She has pretty tits, small, with little pink nipples. Her legs are too skinny. And scars—scars along her ribs and along the line of her jaw, hard white spots speckling my red ember.

I look right into her, and her history floods into my head, a disorganized, pathetic story. She isn’t sure of it all herself, not the details. Too many nights in a drug or alcohol haze. Yelling. Beating. Molestation by a stranger when she was fourteen and should have known better. Fucking forty-year-old men when she was just sixteen.

My skin crawls. She is fascinating! I watch her. She sighs and walks along, and I hear Darlene behind me, the pad of Darlene’s bare feet.

She comes up behind me and presses against my back. She is naked. Her skin cool. Her arms hug around my waist. She rubs her nose in my hair and presses her lips against the back of my neck. She looks out the window over my shoulder and sees the whore. “A suggestion,” she says. Her voice is sweet and helpful. “You don’t need to kill them. Usually a taste is enough.”

The thought of killing the whore had not occurred to me, but what a thought! It would be a snap. I could destroy her with a flick of my wrist. And suck her blood and eat her heart! My stomach growls, a menacing rumbling sound. “And plan your kills in advance,” Darlene says. “We can go unnoticed if we wish, but it’s better to enter unnoticed when you kill. No witnesses.”

Yes, she makes sense. I nod and watch the whore walk past. She pauses at the corner, looks around. Darlene’s moist breath caresses my ear. And the whore walks around the corner and out of sight. Oh! She is gone! My heart leaps!

Darlene runs her hands over my belly and my stomach lurches. “You are hungry,” she whispers.

I am hungry. So hungry. I am famished.

“My sweet baby,” Darlene kisses my shoulder and moves up to hold my breasts. “How is this beautiful creature born of me?”

I love the way Darlene touches me. She rolls my nipples between her fingers, but I cannot enjoy it. I am so hungry, and I want to go after the whore. I want to kill her and drink her blood. “I want to kill her, Darlene,” I say.

“Of course you do, baby,” she whispers. “But not now. You and I, we will go out tonight. We will find some humans. Beautiful, powerful humans. And we will kill them. We will kill them all. A carnage. I’ll show you how. We will bathe in humans’ sweet blood. We will drink until our bellies burst.” And she laughs, her pretty soprano laugh a lovely song in my head.

Darlene can’t keep still. She paces back and forth, her hands flinging into the air as she talks. “I’ll go get us clothes, we’ll go out to a club, and we’ll find you two beautiful humans,” she says, her black eyes flashing. “With your blonde hair, we’ll dress you in black.”

I don’t understand this fuss over clothes. I only want to sink my fingers into the chest of a human and take her life force. I only want to go after the whore. But Darlene says no. “She was nothing,” she says. “Your first kill should be special. The whore has no power. You feel the hunger, but you cannot imagine the power of rich blood.”

She dashes off to steal clothes, leaving me alone. Alone. I don’t like being alone. Maybe I should go out now, before Darlene gets back. I could go after the whore by myself. But I am not sure. There are things I don’t understand, and I am not sure. This feeling of people crowding around me makes me feel claustrophobic. Can Darlene tell me how to make it stop? I don’t like it. The air is thick with them.

Besides, could I even find the whore? She has a ten-minute head start. She could be anywhere. How could I possibly find her? But I can’t believe this will be a problem. I am sure I could find her. This feeling of people surrounding me—I think they are real people. And I think one of them is the young whore. I only need to figure out which one is her.

I pick through the ghost-like images, and they begin to show as individual beings.

The door slams open and Darlene strides right in, her arms full of clothes stolen from a department store. She dumps the pile on the table. For me, everything is black leather—a tight, lace-up top, a short skirt, thong panties, and very high heels. She has stolen a purple outfit for herself, a short dress with matching pumps. Her enthusiasm escalates, but I am annoyed. I want to get on with it. I want to go out and get the humans, and I want to get them now.

Even more annoying, these clothes do not fit my perfect new body. I must narrow my hips for the skirt and shorten my feet for the shoes. Why do we need these things? When the humans are dead, will they care about our clothes? I look at Darlene as she wiggles into the little purple dress, and my disgust grows. She is superficial. Her excitement is stupid and pathetic. And I realize now, for sure, that she is not strong.

I could kill her. I know now for sure, I could kill her. If I wanted, she would be dead in my hands. All I need to do is catch her, break open her ribs, feel her heart in my powerful grasp. Pop. One dead beautiful monster. She cannot stop me.

But there is no reason. No reason to kill her at all. Except she annoys me. Annoys me with the waiting and the clothes and the stupid excitement.

But we only have a few more minutes to wait. “We’ll go when the crowds are biggest,” Darlene says. “We’ll take the pick of the lot.”

I am not so sure, and all I know is maybe Darlene knows more than I do. So I must trust her. But my confidence is shrinking. I could go out on my own. It would not be impossible. I do not need Darlene. In fact, her weakness may be a hindrance.

She looks me over one last time. “You are a rare beauty,” she whispers. “Every eye in the place will be on you. Everyone will want you.” She looks deep into my eyes—Darlene’s black eyes—and she runs her thumb over my lips, and excitement shivers through me. Yes, of course they will all want me. I am the most desirable creature on Earth!

Darlene smiles. “Let’s go.”

Finally it is time. We leave the apartment and walk down the stairs out onto the street. We stand on the sidewalk, under the streetlight like a couple of hookers, and I can feel the presence of humans again—a cacophony. They are stronger now. They are out and about and I can feel their souls in my gut. It’s almost like they are touching me! I spin around looking for them but they are not there, not where I can see them. I cannot figure out where the humans are. I feel dizzy and confused. Darlene grabs my hand and kisses it. “It’s okay, baby,” she says. “You’ll get used to it.” Get used to what? This feeling of people all around me? The uncomfortable pain in my stomach? I hate her! Why is she such an idiot? Why doesn’t she explain this to me?

“Listen to me,” Darlene whispers, but I hear her voice loud in my head. I stop looking for the invisible souls and look her in the eye. Then she talks to me without moving her lips. Can you hear me? she says, her voice prying inside my head.

Another amazing thing! I can hear her! I nod. I am delighted! What is this, mental telepathy or something? Do not let the humans know what we are. They can’t hear us if we don’t want them to hear us. Do you understand?

I laugh. She is so serious!

But she does not even crack a smile. Speak to me, she says. Try it.

Okay, this should be no problem. I know exactly how this works. I turn to her, look her dead in the eye. Knock knock, I send into Darlene’s head.

A moment of nothing, and then she grins. “Who’s there?” she says out loud.

This is wonderful! I laugh, and I grab her and kiss her and I love the way her lips feel and I want to make love to her—make love to her right now on the street, feel her hot breath on my naked skin. I send thoughts into her head, thoughts of love and sex. I hold her head and rub her ears and neck with my thumbs, and I can feel her excitement. She is excited at my touch, and her kiss is soft and sweet and I imagine us rolling naked on the sidewalk, our intimate places exposed to any passer-by.

Later, baby, she tells me through the kiss, after we kill the humans, we will make love, and it will be the most glorious thing in the universe!

Oh, she is excited. She is very horny, I can tell, and I am all greasy wet and I can’t wait now. I can’t wait to destroy the bodies of humans and suck up their hot blood and use the power to make love to my beautiful Darlene. She backs out of my embrace, an evil grin painting her lovely face. Murder! She sends me thoughts of murder!

My mouth is full of saliva. I swallow. The invisible people crowding around aren’t so bad. Not so bad, really. Darlene holds my hand and we take a step together down the street, then we walk faster, faster, and we are soon speeding down the street, rushing past storefronts so fast I can barely see them. The people—only the real people we pass seem to register. They are live fiery coals, glowing with a rich pungent scent. The yearning in my belly heightens as we approach each one, but the ache in my heart returns as we slip past. “Where are we going?” I ask. I think we should stop, look at these humans we pass by. I can’t believe we move so fast! You’ll see, Darlene tells me, and she laughs. A laughing matter. She thinks these aches and these hungers are a laughing matter!

We finally turn a corner and there is a crowd in the street, waiting at the door to a club. I have been here before. I recognize the place, but it looks so different! The building is so drab and lifeless. I remember it as something colorful and exciting! What has happened to it?

But the humans—wow! There are maybe twenty of them milling around outside and my stomach growls. About a third of them are women, all dressed up and ready to dance. The rest are men, a few of them with girlfriends, some alone, some paired with other men. A big man in a gray suit is at the door collecting cover charges.

One man in the crowd catches my attention. He is not much to look at, actually, but he’s bright and healthy and exudes a heat I can sense from clear across the street. He is alone and works his way up through the line to the door. He is lovely! He and the bouncer exchange a few words, and I strain my ears to hear, but all the noises are overwhelming. I can’t pick up the exchange.

And the man throws up his hands and I feel a flash of heat. He is angry! I can feel his anger. It hits me in the breastbone. The aura of anger whips around him. Their voices rise and maybe they will fight? I look at Darlene and she stands transfixed, watching the two men.

Finally the man peels off and walks away, alone, muttering curses under his breath. I can see the anger swirl around him, a flame ready to burn anyone close by. He is practically burning up. And he is luscious, truly luscious! I know his blood is hot and sweet and strong.

I look to Darlene. What do we do now? I want to go after the man and kill him. Right now. Darlene watches for a moment, then shakes her head. Look at him, she says, look at him carefully. I turn back to the figure clicking alone down the street. I don’t understand what Darlene is talking about. He is wonderful! I know what she meant earlier, now, about the whore. She was nothing compared to this specimen! I know the taste of this man’s blood will send me to heights I can barely imagine. Look, I am trembling!

Look at his cock, Darlene says.

But I can’t see his cock. He is wearing pants! Concentrate, Virginia. You can see anything if you concentrate.

I look at him and concentrate, and of course Darlene is right. I can see right into him, right through him. I can see his muscles and bones and lungs and heart. I can see the strong pulses of angry blood throbbing in his arteries. A little adrenaline is in him, and he is edgy and tense and poised.

And I look at his penis, his short, thin shaft nestled into jockey shorts. And his little oblong testicles hanging in their sacs.

See how small it is? Darlene says. It is true, he is not the biggest man I have ever seen. But so what? Do you really want to fuck him? Darlene says. Would you want to fuck a man with a little dick like that? She reaches up under my skirt, grabs me in the crotch, and a jolt of pleasure rips through me. Doesn’t this perfect cunt deserve more than that?

My cunt lets loose a flood of lubrication. Darlene presses her fingers up through my leather panties into my slot. I’m shaking! “We are sexual beasts, Virginia,” she whispers into my ear, her breath moist and warm. “You feel the urge to kill, but killing isn’t everything.” She rubs my panties around over my clitoris. Oh God, just a little harder, Darlene, just a little harder!

“You also need sex, baby. Look at him.” I watch him, his little dangle shrunken up against his body. “Can he please you? Is he enough of a man for you?”

He turns the corner and he’s gone. His beautiful strong blood, gone from my sight and I cry out. Oh, this is terrible! I understand Darlene’s words, but I never dreamed this would be my lot in life! To yearn after an exquisite creature as he and not be allowed to have him! The tears well up. “It’s alright, baby,” Darlene whispers. “There will be better inside.”

Tears trickle down my cheeks. Darlene wipes them away. She is so sweet and lovely. I try to find the man’s image through the building. I can’t find it. My body feels awful and heavy.

But Darlene guides me forward, a pressure on my back. We cross the street and move toward the front door. My beautiful man is lost. My aching heart. I turn to the door. I recognize the bouncer. I have seen him before, and I know we will have no problem getting in. One last look at my lost man. And now the bouncer, back to reality. I take a deep breath. A little flirting, and he will let you right in.

But Darlene doesn’t even pay him any attention. She holds my hand and we slip along and it’s like they don’t even see us. We turn to the side and slip right on by, right into the club, as if they didn’t even know we were there.

And it is glorious inside! Dark and stinking of humans and their blood and their bodily secretions. Sweat and testosterone and poised genitals. Dancing bodies teasing one another with sexual innuendo. Loud music making verbal conversation almost impossible, and so the humans are physical, and they dance! Alcohol and sneaked marijuana loosening inhibitions. And there is too much to take in! It feels like one hundred degrees in here! My head reels with it all. I turn one way then the other. I try to concentrate on one human but there are too many of them! I could throw myself into the throng, feel their bodies bump against mine! Feel their heat and lust all over me!

Two men, pathetic jackals, make a beeline for us. Darlene ignores them. She scans the crowd. “Can we buy you ladies a drink?” one says, a leering smile on his face. The man is practically impotent, and his heart is weak. His friend is worse, an anemic excuse of a man. “No, thank you,” I tell him. Darlene looks at the sound of my voice, notices them for the first time. “Ignore them,” she sneers. “They are worms.”

I step away, trying again to feel the crowd, but all the people are overwhelming. I feel like I’m being smothered, a thick heat everywhere. The worms were not put off by Darlene’s insult. “Come on, ladies, give us a chance,” one says. I turn my back but he grabs my elbow. Fury boils up in me. How dare he touch me! I turn on them, and I tower over them and bare my soul to them. Their feeble lust evaporates and an acid fear emanates from them. See me how I am! I tell them and a terror blasts through them. Adrenaline gushes into their bloodstream, and they scatter in opposite directions, like cockroaches in the light. Touch me! I go after one as he dashes off through the throngs, trying to hide, but his fear is a beacon to me. It is a glowing path for me to follow. I see you, I call out to him. When I catch you, I will kill you!

He scrambles back into the corner. I stalk after him, and the people part before me. I know exactly where he is going, and there is no escaping from me. The last of the crowd moves away. He’s cowering on the floor, staring wide-eyed at my approach. I stand over him. His terror is so great that I laugh. Are you ready to die? I taunt him.

He’s crying, babbling like a pathetic baby. It will be a pleasure to destroy him. I take a step forward and bare my teeth and he screams.

Someone grabs my arm. I whirl on the intruder, prepared to strike her down, but Darlene backs quickly away. Rage boils up. How dare she touch me! How dare anyone touch me! Darlene may be strong, but I am much stronger! I could kill her, I know it! She knows that I am the most powerful! I step toward her, ready to tear her body to pieces.

“He is not worth it,” she tells me. Her voice is soft but the words penetrate. She is speaking to me, in voice and thoughts. But her touch cannot go unpunished. “Do you want this bug to be your first kill?” she says. “You are glorious! You are powerful! Do not settle for that scum.”

I cannot believe Darlene would dare to stand in my way! I could strike her down, kill her on the spot! She stares into my eyes, telling me things. I lift my arms to strike her, but I can’t bring them down. I can’t attack her, and her words sink in. Finally, I think I know what she means. The man—she is right. He is a worm. My first kill should be special. I drop my arms to my side, and Darlene exhales sharply. I look back at the sniveling coward. He has felt every word. I can read it on his mind. His blood gushes in his veins. His meager heart booms in his chest. His life may be spared for now, but I must teach him a lesson. I go to him and lift him up by his lapels. He bawls and I lift him clear off the ground. Look at me, I demand, and his tear-streaked face turns up to meet my eyes. His eyes fill with terror. Urine runs down his legs, and I smile at him, showing him my teeth. I will kill you. I will hunt you down and eat your heart. And I kiss his shaking lips while he squirms to get free, but he is no match for my awesome strength. I stop kissing him and laugh, and drop him to the floor. He slips around in a puddle of his own piss. I can smell you, I tell him. I can track you. You can’t hide. I will find you and torture you and kill you. Be sure, your death will be very slow and very painful.

He hides his face in his shaking hands. I turn my back and he scurries off like a rodent. I will get him later. I need to find Darlene now. She is easy to spot. I find her at the edge of the dance floor, looking into the dancing humans.

Look, Darlene says as I stand by her side. She is looking into the dancers, at a woman, and—oh! She is exquisite! I can tell from here. She is an incredible thing. I can smell her, her luscious blood, and there is something about it that makes my head spin! Her midriff is bare. Her long brown hair whips back and forth. She’s dancing and sweating and she is very horny. I concentrate on her. There is something incredible about her body, something—ah yes! Of course! She is ovulating! She is at the height of her fertility. Her body yearns for sex. Hormones coursing through her blood drive her nearly mad with lust.

The object of her lust is a man, a big, strapping man, with his enormous, powerful heart thudding in his chest. His body is big and powerful, and he’s very nice. His blood is rich, but not as rich as hers. I look at Darlene, but she just stares, and I remember the man outside we had to let go. I check the man’s cock, just to make sure, and it is huge. I can tell—thick and heavy and hot between his thighs. They dance together, their minds on sex, their sweat cooling their skin, their lust heating their blood.

The song ends and they hug and whisper and move apart. They sit down together at a table, closely, their knees bumping against each other, holding hands. I stare while Darlene clears the table next to them, and we sit down. They are so close my stomach aches. What do we do now? I ask. I am excited, very excited. My cunt is all sticky wet and my stomach gurgles with hunger. Her skin, even her skin excites me! Warm and moist and sensitive.

Use your power on them, Darlene says, excite them. Make them want each other.

But I don’t know how. What do I do? Do I send them my thoughts? Surely not! Darlene leans close and whispers in my ear. “Can you feel the lust inside you? Do you feel it?” I feel it. Of course I feel it. It’s everything inside me, a thick cloud enriching my blood. I nod. “Gather it up. Concentrate it.”

Yes, I think that is something I can do. I concentrate on myself, on the passion within me. It is a physical thing, my lust. I can sense it, control it. It rushes into my heart and yes, I feel it! My heart trembles and expands and fills with it. I feel the vibration in my chest.

“Now see them,” Darlene breathes in my ear. “See them, and see their minds.” They are there just a few feet away, and I can peer right inside them. They are thinking of sex. They are already thinking of sex!

“Now, cast your lust into them. From your heart and right into them.” And I think I know what she means. My lust is sitting in my heart waiting to be used. I exhale and with a flick of my mind I toss it towards them, and I see them change! I see the change in them! They feel surprised and horny. They lean together and kiss lightly.

I can use my lust on them—my powerful lust—and I give them all I have. I fill their heads with all the lust in my heart. I will fill their minds to bursting with it! I send the flood over, but they stop kissing. They received it but they turn away from each other, look right at me, their eyes wide with surprise.

Darlene puts her hand on the back of my neck and pulls me to her and kisses me, her lips working on mine. Too strong, baby, she says, a laugh in her thoughts. Too strong.

They see us and they smile at our passion, and he kisses the girl’s hand. Lesbians, they think. We are a novelty. Darlene’s body trembles, strong and incredible, and I want her. I want her more and we kiss heavily, and I am distracted from the boy and girl. Darlene grabs my breasts and my excitement throbs and I grab her, pull her close. Our hands feel up our gorgeous bodies, but I still sense them. They do not leave the forefront of my thoughts, and they make quiet plans to leave.

They stand up, gather their things, and Darlene and I stop kissing and we watch them go. Once they are out the door we leap into action. Darlene drags me up and we are out on the street, and the couple is there. They are walking together, her arm twisted around his. She leans close to him, her hip and shoulder brushing against him. They do not talk.

We follow them for a while, sticking to the shadows. They are so horny. She wants to kiss him and touch his chest. He is a little drunk and can’t believe his luck.

Darlene has discovered where they are going—to the girl’s apartment—and we flitter ahead through the shadows like swallows and we soon find ourselves at her apartment building. There are dozens of rooms. Which one is hers? We scan them from the outside, searching for some sign of her presence, but she is not here yet and her scent is not strong enough to be seen through the other people in the building. My frustration builds. I want to go back and find her, kill her on the street. I look down the road, where they will be coming from soon.

“There,” Darlene says, excitement in her voice. She nods towards a window, and—oh!—I can feel it. I can feel it too! It is unmistakable. Her apartment. Her odor is still in it. I can imagine her there, dressing, putting on makeup, napping. And I can feel her masturbating in there just the day before, lying on her belly with her palm between her legs, her lovely bottom thrust up in the air.

We scramble up the outer wall, my fingers strong between the bricks, and Darlene forces the window open and we jump inside. It is dark and cool and I can’t wait for them to arrive. The girl’s smell is everywhere—the smell of her sweat and lust and urine. Images flood my mind. I see her pissing on the toilet. I see her drinking red wine. I see her reading a trashy novel. I see her exercising to an aerobics tape. I look in her bedroom, at the messed-up bed. She sleeps naked, and I lie down in her tousled sheets, rub my nose in the linen. I see her naked body arching as she rubs near her clitoris, a hard, circular caress. I smell her sweat and sex in the sheets. My cunt throbs.

I want them here. I want to have them here right away. How many more minutes do I have to wait? I get off the bed and go back into the living room. Darlene is there, and she is anxious too. I can feel it in her. She is all hot and aroused, her skin prickling. What do we do when they get here? I ask her. It is all I can do to keep from kissing her. I want to make love to Darlene so badly. We fuck them, and then we kill them. We drink their blood, and then we eat their hearts, Darlene says.

Fuck them and kill them! I can’t stand it anymore and I grab Darlene, gather her up in my arms and lift her off her feet and bury my face between her heavy tits. She squeals and I tear at her dress with my teeth, biting and ripping with a savage twist of my head. Her naked tits envelop my face and I hold her to my face and kiss them, suck the big rubbery nipples. She coos encouragement and runs her hands through my hair.

But I need more. I toss her down on the ground and jump on her. Her purple outfit shreds in my hands as I search out her sticky cunt and drive four fingers deep inside her. My mouth goes to her neck and I feel her hot breath on my ear. Her fingernails rip through the leather of my skirt. They rake across my bare ass, and I sink my teeth deep into the soft flesh of her neck. Her blood floods my mouth and I chew the flesh between my teeth, and Darlene cries out in ecstasy as her body shudders. I swallow big mouthfuls of her blood and work my whole fist in her cunt. She rakes my ass with her fingernails, ripping my flesh, and then her finger spears my anus.

The finger in my ass and her blood filling my mouth send me over. My body arches up and I yell out. Darlene’s cunt clutches repeatedly around my fist, and my own cunt thrills with its savage convulsions. I ride my orgasm long and hard, clenching my anus to prolong the pleasure of it all.

I’m coming down. My thighs shake—oh!—I feel them! I’m in the final throes of my climax, and I feel the boy and girl. They are close. They are on their way! They are in the building, and Darlene feels them too. They are coming and we need to get ready fast. I rush around cleaning up our blood, and Darlene works at healing her deep neck wound. I’m trembling. Darlene is trembling. Our clothes are in shreds and Darlene hides the ruins behind the couch.

They have reached this floor, and they are walking down the hallway. Darlene reminds me of the bloody scratches on my ass and I thank her, concentrate on them and feel the deep tears heat up and heal over. My sex honey overflows my cunt and dribbles down my thighs.

They are here. I can feel them right outside the door, and they are kissing and groping one another and are so desperate they can barely wait to get inside. My heart pounds and I can even hear Darlene’s heart pounding. The hunger in Darlene’s eyes is frightening. There’s a rattle of keys in the door but the boy distracts the girl, grabbing her tits, and she giggles and drops them. Come on, come on, get on with it. I am trembling. I don’t know if I have ever felt this nervous.

The door finally flings open and they tumble inside. They are so horny they seem to glow in the dark and they kiss frantically as soon as the door swings shut. But they sense us. They sense our presence, and they stop and look around. The light flicks on. Oh God, I can feel their sex organs. Her cunt is all wet and swollen, and his cock is hugely erect, enormous with blood.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” she says. The excitement is still in her voice, and she’s more annoyed than afraid. She wonders why there are two naked women in her apartment.

I use my power to call out to her. I love you, I tell her. I want to make love to you. I want to hold you and kiss you and make love to you. Darlene follows my cue and works the boy, telling him crude, nasty things. His cock is absurdly large in his pants, straining against his zipper.

I fill the girl’s head with lustful loving thoughts and there is a threshold I finally reach, and she gives in. It’s like her mind breaks and she is mine. I know she is mine, and she wants nothing more than to be mine. Her face opens up. She looks me in the eyes. She breathes in deep and I can feel my scent filling her lungs and her lust bubbles up.

Darlene’s thoughts enter my head. Now kiss me, she tells me, and I turn to Darlene and we hug close. Our naked bodies press together, and we kiss hard. She sinks two stiff fingers into my cunt and I open up for her and she fucks me, slowly, in and out. I grab her nipples and twist them hard and she groans into my hungry mouth.

I feel hands on my back. It is the girl’s hands, and she touches me, stroking up and down my back and tenderly cupping my ass. The boy has removed his shirt and is behind Darlene, rubbing his chest against Darlene’s back, his hands on her thighs, feathery strokes up and down. The humans are too soft. Darlene crams her hand hard up into my cunt. We are monsters, strong monsters, and I let myself go. I bite Darlene’s tongue, hard, try to rip it out of her mouth with my teeth. Darlene laughs, and lets me bite into her tongue but not all the way through. Her blood floods into my mouth. I sink my fingernails deep into the flesh of her tits.

I am hurting her, and Darlene is delighted. She fights back hard. Our bodies buck violently. She pinches my clit between strong fingers. The pleasure-pain shoots through me, and the violence of our love spurs on the humans. The girl rubs me harder, squeezing and pinching my ass and pressing her shaking body against me. I love it. I want to make love to the girl, and I pry myself out of Darlene’s powerful grasp.

The girl is all over me. She throws herself into my arms. She feels frail, but her passion is unmistakable. I pull her against me and squeeze her tight. She grunts as the air leaves her lungs and she lifts her head back to expose her neck to me. Oh, Lord, the look of that slender neck, and the big veins pulsing with her blood. My mouth fills with saliva.

I rip at her top. Fabric shreds and buttons pop and her frilly little bra tears away and her firm little tits with big swollen nipples fall out and I go for those nipples. I put my mouth wide over one and suck it hard. She gasps as I suck and roll my tongue over it, squeezing it with my lips. Her body arches into me, and I can feel her heart just inches away, thudding loudly. I can feel its strength pulsing in my head.

Darlene is all over the boy. I can see them out of the corner of my eye. Darlene’s excitement is overpowering. I can feel it in my sternum, like a punch in the chest. I take my mouth off the girl’s tit and watch Darlene. She yanks off the boy’s pants and his huge erection springs free.

I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to it. It’s so big and bursting with blood, those gorgeous veins decorating the surface, the skin discolored with the volume of blood. I want to feel it in my mouth, to feel that blood-gorged beauty in my mouth. I lower my head and wrap my lips around the rubber-hard head.

Ah! It is incredible. All that blood-filled skin filling my mouth. It is so hot and luscious and I suck him in, take him as far as I can until my whole mouth is filled with this straining organ. He groans as I suck and pump him up and down, and I can feel the blood everywhere, just under the surface, filling up the spongy flesh, just a millimeter away from my lips and tongue. I swallow him down my throat and he sighs with pleasure and I feel my orgasm building and the girl, bless her heart, runs her fingertips over my sensitive clitoris and my body explodes.

It takes every last ounce of strength to keep from biting his luscious cock clean off and drinking down the glorious blood, but I hold off while the spasms surge through me. The boy is close to cumming himself. He’s panting and sweating and I shove my finger up his ass and wiggle in to find his prostate. His body goes rigid and I am about to receive his semen in my mouth, and my body tenses with excitement—I am about to receive his semen in my mouth! I was so wrapped up in the thoughts of blood I had forgotten about semen! I suck harder. Give me your seed! And his muscles spasm, and a flood of it enters my mouth, hot, thick, his life fluid, and I roll it around in my mouth and he spurts again, and I swallow it and—oh!—

A torrid heat scalds my throat. It burns all the way down like an acid, painful burning in my throat and now in my stomach and I suck harder and he spurts again and I swallow again and the heat burns my throat again and my stomach is lurching and churning the hot cum and he spurts again and painful jabbing heat radiates out into my body and again he’s flooding my mouth and I swallow and the flaming in my esophagus and belly is killing me. It’s killing me, but I can’t stop. I suck his rigid cock and another burst of cum fills my mouth and I press his prostate and suck hard and he groans and spurts one last shot of cum and I swallow it all down and the heat is coursing through me, pumping through my whole body in my arteries and capillaries and feeding my muscles and organs and skin and my whole body is hot, hot, hot—so hot. My sweat glands open up and I pull off his spent cock, let it drop from my mouth. The heat is building in me and a buzzing is in my ears, and a drunken feeling in my head and what is this? What is happening to me?

Sweat pours off of me and I can’t help myself. I must touch myself. I roll a nipple between my fingers and pleasure flashes through me like lightning and I almost cum. I swear, I almost cum. My nipple is so hard it feels like it may burst, and I touch the other nipple and—ah!—I’m cumming! I’m cumming—oh!—and my body is using the heat—oh!—inside me and I’m throbbing all over—oh!—and I’m building up. I’m growing—oh!—God!—wham!—I hit the floor. I fell right over with the violence of my—ugh!—orgasm, and it’s killing me—oh!—so strong—Christ!—why don’t my bones break?—oh Lord!—here comes a big one—a real big one—oh God—aye-yah!

What happened? Christ, I’m still cumming. I’m on my back. I’m still cumming, but not so hard. I must have blacked out. My lungs ache and I breathe hard and I sit up and my sticky cunt froth is all over my thighs and my cunt still pulses—tiny little pleasant throbs in my cunt and I feel funny. I feel unbelievably stable and hard. I look around, and Darlene and the girl and the boy are looking at me. I see them! I really see them. I can’t believe they are so transparent. I know everything about them, every detail of every cell of their bodies and minds. The humans are simply stupid and weak, but Darlene! How could I not see Darlene before! She is strong, stronger than I ever dreamed, but her head is filled with a numbing terror. Her body is strong from Jessica’s blood. My old roommate is the source of her power. I can sense Jessica’s blood in Darlene’s veins, but it is her terror that I see most clearly. Furthermore, it is I who fill her with dread!

I stand up, and I’m surprised at the lack of effort I need, and I stand there, looking right into Darlene and the humans, and I flex my arm and I feel the strength in it—I see! I am even more powerful than before! I am immensely more powerful! Eating the boy’s cum, it has made me hugely powerful!

God help me, what have I created! Darlene thinks.

I laugh. God help her! I know exactly what she has created! “It is me!” I yell. My voice booms! “You have created me!”

I need to use my power. Show them how awesome I am. I need them to feel terror. I need them to die!

Darlene glances toward the window. She is planning an escape. But oh no, that won’t work! She makes a dash but I am in front of her in a flash, blocking her way. Her mind is racing. I can read it. She plans a maneuver, a feint toward the door and another dash for the window. I almost laugh at the uselessness of the plan. I pretend to fall for her fake and her hope soars when she sees me move, but when she cuts back the other way I am all over her. A forearm to her head and she crashes to the floor.

I pin Darlene to the ground and she sputters with fear. Her meager struggles are pathetic! I love you, Virginia, I love you, she calls out but I just laugh in her face. I can feel her heart racing in her chest. Adrenaline and blood pumping through her veins. I put my hand over her sternum and she cries out, “Please, no!” and tears roll down her cheeks. I can feel her throbbing heart inches from my hand.

I look her in the eye, and she sees me looking, and I feel an instant of hope in her. Thank you, she tells me, and she chokes back a sob. I love you. I will always love you. We will be together forever. I reach back between her legs and stroke her excited clitoris. Her body lurches involuntarily with my touch. In an instant, she’s arching up with a huge orgasm. I love you, Virginia, she calls out.

What a miserable cunt.

I crush my hand through her chest and she screams, a blood-curdling call. My hand is in her chest. I find her heart, still beating strong, wrap my fist around it and yank it from her body. Her blood goes everywhere. It’s gushing from torn arteries, splattering the walls, my face. Her body twitches in a death throe, and I hold her pulsing heart to my face. It is a wondrous thing. Strong muscle, the core of Darlene’s life. I bite into it and tear off a big mouthful of her powerful heart, chew it and swallow it, and I feel her power move into me.

I finish off her heart in a half dozen bites. Darlene’s empty shell lies inert under me. I get off her, stand up. Her blood is all over me. I’m covered head to foot with it. I feel my monstrous strength. Feel it urging me to action. I rub Darlene’s hot blood into my naked skin. Feel its heat and feel her power exploding through my veins.

The boy is looking right at me, his cock drooping and useless. I’m on him in a nanosecond. The neck bones snapping like balsa sticks. His still-beating heart is confused. With my teeth I bite into his chest, find the ribs and crush them between my canines. His hot, steamy blood pours out and I’m on his heart. His dying flesh surrounding my head and I bite into his dying heart muscle, feel it pop and its blood rush forth.

I swallow his heart up and pull out. Blood stings my eyes and drips from my hair. I look to the girl, who is bawling and hysterical, her face contorted. I can smell the stink of her fear and it makes me feel dizzy drunk. “Do you know what I am?” I hiss in her ear. Tears run down her face and she’s choking with fear. Blood drips from my hair onto her tits. “I am a vampire!” I say.

I kiss her with my bloody lips and she screams.

I stand in the middle of the room, covered in blood, my body humming with power. The girl’s scream dies in her throat as I turn to face her. She is beautiful in her terror—wide eyes, trembling lips, heart hammering like a trapped bird. I can taste her fear in the air, thick and sweet like overripe fruit.

“You… you killed them,” she whispers, backing toward the wall. Her voice cracks. “Please… don’t hurt me.”

I smile, slow and deliberate. My new fangs feel sharp against my tongue. “Hurt you?” I step closer, my bare feet silent on the blood-slick floor. “I want to love you.”

She tries to run. Of course she does. I catch her before she reaches the door, one hand wrapping gently around her throat. Not enough to choke—just enough to hold. Her pulse flutters wildly against my palm. I pull her close until her breasts press against mine. She is warm. So warm. Alive.

“Shhh,” I whisper, brushing my lips against her ear. “Don’t fight it. Feel me.”

I send the lust into her again—stronger this time. Not the clumsy flood from before, but a slow, deliberate wave. I let it coil around her thoughts like smoke. Her body shudders. A soft moan escapes her lips. Her hands, which had been pushing against my chest, now clutch at me. Her hips roll forward instinctively.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Good girl.”

I kiss her deeply. She tastes like fear and cherry lip gloss. My tongue explores her mouth while my free hand slides down her body, cupping her breast, pinching the nipple until it hardens. She gasps into my mouth. I can feel her cunt growing wet, the scent of her arousal cutting through the coppery smell of blood.

I push her down onto the couch, right next to Darlene’s cooling corpse. The contrast is delicious—the dead monster and the living girl. I spread her legs and kneel between them. She is shaking, but not from fear anymore. Her eyes are glassy with need.

“Please…” she begs, but this time it’s different.

I lower my head and taste her. She is sweet, salty, alive. My tongue finds her swollen clit and circles it slowly. She cries out, fingers tangling in my hair. I drink from her—not blood, not yet—but her pleasure. I suck and lick until her thighs clamp around my head and she comes with a broken sob, her body arching off the couch.

When she collapses, panting, I crawl up her body and kiss her again. This time she kisses me back hungrily, tasting herself on my lips. Her hands roam over my blood-slick skin, exploring my new curves, my perfect breasts, the smooth mound of my cunt.

“You’re… not human,” she whispers between kisses.

“No,” I agree, smiling against her mouth. “I’m better.”

I turn her over, pulling her hips up so she’s on her knees, face pressed into the cushions. I press my body against her from behind, my breasts against her back, my hand sliding between her legs. She’s dripping. I slide two fingers inside her, then three, fucking her slowly while my thumb circles her clit. She pushes back against me, whimpering.

I bite her shoulder—not deep enough to turn her, just enough to taste. A thin line of blood wells up. I lick it clean and she moans louder. The taste of her blood mixed with her arousal is intoxicating. Power surges through me again.

I want more.

I flip her onto her back and climb on top, straddling her face. “Lick me,” I command.

She obeys instantly, her tongue eager and clumsy but enthusiastic. I grind against her mouth, riding her face while I reach back and finger her again. We move together in a filthy, perfect rhythm. Her tongue finds my clit and I come hard, flooding her mouth. She drinks me down like she’s starving.

When I finally climb off, she’s a mess—face shiny with my juices, chest heaving, eyes wild with lust and terror and something new. Worship.

I pull her into my lap and kiss her gently this time. “You’re mine now,” I tell her. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she whispers, voice hoarse.

“Good girl.”

I hold her close, stroking her hair as her breathing slows. The hunger is still there, but it’s different now—sharper, more controlled. I can wait. There will be more nights. More hunts. More beautiful humans to break and drink and fuck.

Darlene was right about one thing. We are monsters.

But I am the stronger one.

I look down at the girl in my arms. Her eyes are already starting to glaze with devotion. I smile and kiss her forehead.

“Rest now,” I whisper. “Tomorrow night, I’ll show you how to hunt.”

She nods sleepily against my chest.

Outside, the city pulses with life—thousands of hearts beating, thousands of warm bodies moving through the dark. They don’t know it yet, but the night belongs to me now.

I am Virginia.

I am eternal.

And I am hungry.

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