I NEED MORE PATTI FICSSS PLEASE

I absolutely love @yourbasicqueerie’s writing. She tells us everything without saying nothing, it’s so free and full of allegories. I feel like I’m on an inside secret I shouldn’t be, it’s so velvet and smoke and noir in the best way possible. 

Every time I read something of hers it tastes like she was the one writing. It has personality and style and it’s so funny, I always laugh for the most stupid jokes she makes. Just brightens my day when I read one of her works. 

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKYYYYYAAAAAAAAA

Damn.. 😦

The Quite Ones

Pairing: Mona Wassermann/Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: She said it was love when she asked you to move in. You didn’t notice the walls closing in until they felt like home. Now there’s another girl wearing your old fear—and you, draped in silk and power, wouldn’t have it any other

Warnings: Toxic Relationship, Manipulation, Moral Corruption, Being Controlled But You Like It, Suicide (not reader), kidnapping

AO3

AN: This did a complete 180 from what I expected it to be, Oopsies. Enjoy Xx (Requested by: @luvpone)

The eggs are already plated when you wake.

Soft-scrambled, just the way Mona likes them—creamy, a hint of chive, barely touched by heat. The toast is dry, cut diagonally. The grapefruit has been halved, segmented, dusted with sugar.

You blink the sleep from your eyes and sit up slowly, like you’re afraid to shift the balance of the morning. The sheets are still warm beside you, though she’s long gone. You smell her perfume before you see the tray. Sharp. Floral. Unmistakably hers.

A folded note rests beside your water glass.

Remember your pills. Wear the blue sweater today. I’ll be home at six. Don’t make me come looking.

– M

You stare at the handwriting for a long moment. Neat. Severe. Looped just slightly at the tail ends, like she wants to seem softer than she is.

You do exactly as she says. Not because you’re hungry, but because she’ll ask. And if she finds the plate cold and untouched when she gets home—no. Better not to find out.

You chew mechanically, gaze drifting across the apartment. Her apartment. All clean lines and pale marble, glass so spotless it reflects the sky, not the city. Everything in its place. Just like you.

There’s a faint hum of music playing through the built-in speakers—one of her old jazz records. Mona likes music in the mornings. She says silence makes you brood.

Your phone buzzes once. Then again. You already know who it is.

Have you eaten? Send me a photo.

You don’t hesitate. You snap a picture of the empty plate and send it without comment. The read receipt pops up within seconds.

Good girl. Now the sweater.

You rise, dutiful, and make your way to the closet. Not yours—hers. Everything you own now fits into a curated space of her choosing. The blue sweater is already laid out on the ottoman. You didn’t put it there.

It still smells like her. You slip the sweater on. It’s soft, expensive. Cashmere, probably. Mona doesn’t buy anything that isn’t the best.

It still fits perfectly, even though you’re sure you’ve lost weight. She says that’s good. Says it makes you look “kept.” Like you’re being taken care of.

You sit on the edge of the bed, sweater clutched around yourself like armor, and let your thoughts drift—just for a moment—back to before.

Back to the beginning.

Mona had been kind, then. Overwhelming, yes—she swept into your life like a storm with perfect posture—but kind. She asked questions no one else thought to ask. Remembered the name of your cat, your mother, your favorite wine. She touched your arm when you were nervous and said things like: “You don’t have to be afraid with me.”

And you believed her.

When she offered her guest suite, just for a while, just until things “settled”, you didn’t think twice. You were out of work. The lease was ending. She looked at you like she couldn’t bear the thought of you struggling.

You told yourself it was temporary. She told you, gently: “I want you safe. That’s all. Let me give you that.”

You never even noticed the moment your keys stopped working. Or when she started answering your phone. Or when your old clothes vanished, replaced with carefully chosen alternatives. Mona said they “didn’t suit you.” She said this with a smile, holding a silk blouse to your chest like a gift.

And maybe it was. Maybe that’s what’s so confusing.

She loves you. She tells you so every day. She holds your face in both hands like it’s precious. She kisses your temple when you’re quiet too long and murmurs things like: “You’d fall apart without me, wouldn’t you?”

The worst part is—she might be right.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The lock clicks at exactly 5:58 PM. She never rings. Never knocks. This is her home. Her space. Her rules.

You’re already sitting on the couch, sweater smoothed over your lap, a book open but unread in your hands. You’ve been in that position for twenty minutes, heart fluttering with anticipation you’d never call fear.

She walks in without hesitation. A black coat draped over her shoulders. Lips painted like blood and wine. Hair perfectly set, not a strand out of place.

Mona Wassermann doesn’t rush. She arrives. “Darling.” Her voice is warm, velvet-thick. “You wore the sweater.” You nod, managing a smile. “You said to.”

She hums, low and pleased, and crosses the room in heels that echo like punctuation. “You listen so well,” she murmurs, and cups your jaw in one hand. Her thumb strokes your cheek, her touch feather-light. “That’s what I love about you. You know how to be cared for.”

You swallow. “I made tea.”

“I’m not thirsty,” she says, still smiling, still touching. “But I’ll sit with you.” She takes the book from your lap and sets it aside—delicately, like it’s fragile. Like you’re fragile. Then she sits beside you and pulls you into her side, your body folding against hers out of habit more than choice.

Her arm curls around your shoulders. Her lips brush your temple. “There,” she whispers. “Isn’t that better?”

You nod again. Because it is. It’s easier than questioning. Safer than pushing back. And besides, Mona’s warmth is real. Her grip, firm but comforting. Her attention, intoxicating.

If this is what love looks like, you think, maybe you can learn to want it this way. You close your eyes and let her hold you. And you don’t ask why the door locks behind her with a soft mechanical click.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You don’t notice when you stop checking the time.

Mona keeps the clocks set fast by exactly six minutes, she says it keeps you sharp, but you don’t need them. You know her rhythms better than your own now. You wake when she tells you. Eat when she expects you to. Breathe easier when she walks through the door.

You used to wonder if this was normal. If it was healthy. Now you just want to make her proud.

She’s sitting at the dining table with her glasses perched low on her nose, reading something dense and contractual. You curl up beside her on the floor, rest your head against her hip. You don’t say a word. You don’t have to.

Her hand slips into your hair like it belongs there. “I could get used to this,” she says absently, still reading. You tilt your head up. “To what?”

“This. You. Obedient. Quiet. Sweet.” You beam like it’s praise. Because it is. “I just want to make you happy,” you say. She sets her papers down and looks at you fully, her expression unreadable.

“You do,” she says. Then softer, almost to herself, “You really do.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She still tells you you’re beautiful, but now it’s in the same tone she uses when approving a purchase order—decisive, possessive. Her hands roam absently when she walks past you: a hand at your waist, a gentle grip at your nape, a brush down your spine that makes you shiver in ways you pretend not to understand.

And when she kisses you, it’s with a kind of ownership that leaves no room for doubt.

One night, you whisper to her in the dark, just as sleep starts to take you both: “I love you.” You feel her go still behind you, just for a second.

Then her hand curls around your middle, pulling you closer. Her mouth finds the curve of your shoulder. “I know,” she murmurs. “I love you too.”You smile, eyes fluttering closed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You meet for coffee because Mona said you could.

She picked the café. Chose your outfit. Had the driver wait half a block away. “Let her feel free,” she’d said with a smirk, lips brushing your cheek. “It’ll make her easier to ignore.” You’d laughed. She kissed you again.

Now you sit at a small table by the window, sweater sleeves neatly pushed to your wrists, hands folded in your lap the way Mona likes. You’re early, of course. You always are.

When your friend arrives, she looks different. Or maybe you do. She hugs you too tightly, too long. She smells like a life you used to have—street food and secondhand bookstores, not rose oil and Mona’s Chanel.

“You look…” She hesitates. “Good.” You smile. “She takes care of me.”

“Yeah,” your friend says, pulling off her coat. “That’s what I wanted to talk about.” It starts softly. Little questions. How have you been? Are you still painting? Do you see anyone else? Do you ever go anywhere alone?

You answer like you’ve been coached—because you have. “She just wants what’s best for me,” you say. “She’s protective.”

“Protective,” your friend echoes. “Or controlling?” You blink. “What’s the difference?” She stares at you. Her expression shifts—fear, maybe. Or pity. You hate it.

“She’s cut you off from everyone,” she says quietly. “You used to call me when you couldn’t sleep. You used to laugh more. You used to talk about leaving.” You stiffen. “I don’t want to leave.”

“She doesn’t love you,” your friend says, voice flat. “She owns you.” You flinch like she slapped you. “No,” you say. “No, she does. You don’t understand her.”

“I understand you,” she says, leaning forward. “And I know when you’re not okay.”

You push back your chair, carefully. Not angrily—Mona taught you better than that. You gather your coat, your phone, your bag. Everything Mona picked out for you.

“I’m fine,” you say, voice even. “I love her. And she loves me.” She grabs your wrist. “She’s conditioning you.” You yank free.

“She saved me,” you say, quieter now. “When no one else did. I’m not going to apologize for being loved.”

Your phone buzzes. A single text: Time’s up. Car is waiting. You don’t look back. You leave with your head high, pride stiff in your spine.

That night, you curl against Mona in bed. She brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead. “She’s worried about you,” she murmurs.

You nod against her chest. “She doesn’t know what we have.” Mona hums. “No,” she agrees, stroking your back. “She doesn’t.” She holds you closer. You don’t see the way her eyes stay open long after yours have closed.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The friend doesn’t stop.

She starts texting. Calling. Leaving voicemails that pile up unheard in your phone’s hidden folder—Mona showed you how to mute her without blocking. “Cruelty,” she’d said, “is giving them hope.”

At first, you ignore it. Then, you listen. She sounds tired. Worried. Pleading.

This isn’t you. You used to fight. You used to have your own mind. I’m not going away.

You play the last message twice. It ends with silence, then a quiet, broken whisper: Please come back. You delete it.

Later, you tell Mona. She’s in her study, barefoot, swirling a glass of red wine. You sit on the arm of her chair, your hand resting gently on her shoulder. “She won’t stop.” Mona doesn’t look up from her book. “Then block her.”

“She was my friend.” Mona hums. “And I’m your future.” You hesitate. Then: “She said I’m not myself anymore.” That gets her attention. She closes the book. Turns to face you fully.

“And what self would you rather be, hm?” Her voice is soft, slow. Seductive in its certainty. “The one who cried herself to sleep in an empty apartment? The one who begged for scraps of affection from people who couldn’t give a damn?”

You’re quiet. She leans closer, brushing her lips over your jaw. “Or this version? The one who’s loved. Protected. Chosen.” You nod. But something cold settles in your chest anyway. It starts to show.

At lunch with Mona’s acquaintances—never your friends—you speak less. But when you do, it’s with precision. You echo Mona’s cadence, her sharpness, her subtle threats wrapped in silk.

Someone makes a joke at your expense. You smile, cool and unbothered, and say: “Careful. Mona doesn’t like people touching her things.”

Their laugh falters. You finish your drink. Mona beams.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You dream about locking the doors behind her. You dream about telling someone they’re not allowed to leave. You wake with a sick flush of guilt—and something else. Something hotter. Thicker.

You bury your face in Mona’s shoulder. She strokes your hair and doesn’t ask what the dream was. She knows.

Your friend corners you outside the florist’s. You don’t know how she found you. “You’re scaring me,” she says. “You’re starting to sound like her.”

You look at her—really look—and realize she’s smaller than you remember. Not physically. Just… less. You tilt your head. “She’s not hurting me,” you say calmly. “She’s making me better.”

“She’s changing you.” You don’t answer. You don’t need to. The look in your eyes says it all.

That night, Mona kisses your neck and murmurs, “My sweet girl. You’re learning.” And you are. You just don’t know if you’re becoming what she wants—or something even she should be afraid of.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The friend comes back. She looks worse now—drawn, desperate, tired of begging but still clinging to the idea that somewhere beneath all this, you’re still you.

You open the door without hesitation. “Come in,” you say smoothly. She hesitates, but steps over the threshold. The lock clicks behind her.

You lead her to the sitting room, where the lights are low and the air smells faintly of Mona’s perfume, amber, spice, smoke.

She doesn’t sit. “I just want to talk.” You nod. “We will. But not yet.” You cross the room and pour a glass of wine, watching her in the reflection of the cabinet mirror. She’s uneasy already. Good.

You hand her the glass. She doesn’t take it.

“Mona will be home soon,” you say softly, brushing a stray hair from her shoulder. “You should stay. Since you want me so badly.” Her brow furrows. “What?”

“You keep saying you want the real me back.” You smile, all teeth. “She’ll want to see that.” She takes a step back. “This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, I’m not joking.” You move closer. Not threatening. Not yet. Just present. “You chased me down. You barged into my life. You said you weren’t leaving until I came back.”

You lower your voice. “So stay.” You motion toward the couch. She doesn’t move. You don’t force her. You just watch. “Let’s see what Mona thinks of your loyalty.”

When Mona arrives, the energy in the room shifts instantly. She closes the door, tosses her keys on the side table, and pauses when she sees the two of you.

Her eyes land on your friend. Then flick to you with a slow, dangerous smile. You stand and walk to her, all grace and control, and press a kiss to her cheek.

“She wants to save me,” you murmur, just loud enough for your friend to hear. “Tried again.” Mona’s eye glint. “How sweet.”

“She’s staying,” you add. “For now. Since she misses me so much.” Mona looks at your friend like one might look at something pitiful on the street.

“How generous,” she says, curling an arm around your waist. You lean into her easily, effortlessly. Your voice is silk. “She doesn’t understand yet. But she will.” Mona kisses your temple. “She won’t like what she sees.”

“She never does,” you reply. “But that’s not our problem, is it?” Your friend stands frozen, uncertain if she’s still here to help—or if she’s already become part of the performance.

You smile, slow and cruel. “Don’t worry,” you say gently. “You wanted to see the real me.” You lace your fingers with Mona’s, lift them to your lips. “Well. Here I am.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She stayed. Not by choice. But she stayed.

It was supposed to be a confrontation. A rescue. But one look at Mona, one long, bone-deep silence between the two of you, and your friend lost her footing. You saw it in her eyes—the moment her resolve cracked.

Now she sleeps in the servant’s room. You didn’t even know the house had one. Mona called it “practical.” She doesn’t call her by name anymore. Just “the girl.”

“She’s useful,” Mona says with a wave of her hand. “Good hands. Quiet. Mostly.” You don’t ask her to leave. You don’t apologize.

Instead, you hand her empty teacups. You set your shoes by the door and let her clean them. You watch her as she dusts the shelves you used to daydream beside, and you feel…

Nothing. No guilt. No ache. Only power.

Mona sees it in you. The way your shoulders don’t hunch anymore. The way you speak with weight. The way you look at her like you’ve finally earned her.

And when she fastens your necklace in the mirror, she speaks low against your ear: “I’m proud of you.” Your eyes flutter shut. You lean into her touch. You’re warm all over.

She still tells you when to sleep. What to wear. Where to sit. And you let her. You want to. Because every time she buttons your collar closed or brushes her thumb over your lip to wipe away a crumb, your body reacts before your mind does.

Heat. Obedience. Desire. You used to wonder if it was wrong. Now you just want more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

One evening, you catch your reflection as you pass the mirror in the foyer. You pause. Step closer. Study yourself. The posture. The lipstick. The velvet around your throat.

You turn, slowly, admiring. Behind you, the girl—your friend—sets a tray on the table. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t meet your eyes.

You watch her in the mirror, then shift your gaze back to yourself. “Mona,” you say casually as she enters the room, “do you think she’s in love with me?”

Mona raises an eyebrow. “She’s afraid of yoi.” You smile. “Same thing.”

Mona laughs, low and delighted, and crosses to you. She kisses you slowly, possessively, not caring that the girl can see.

And you melt into her, fingertips grazing the curve of her waist. Because fear isn’t love. But it keeps people close. And that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s raining the day the girl tries to leave.

You find her in the foyer with her old coat and a canvas bag that still smells like the life she used to have. She’s trembling, soaked from the open door. Eyes darting, frantic.

She doesn’t speak at first. Just looks at you like she’s begging without words. You don’t say anything either. You just close the door. Quietly. Then you call for Mona.

The aftermath is silent. No shouting. No threats. Just the door locking. The coat taken. The bag burned.

Later, Mona wraps an arm around your waist as you sip wine by the fireplace. The girl kneels at the edge of the room, eyes fixed on the floor, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“You handled that well,” Mona murmurs, brushing your hair back. “I knew you would.” You smile. You should feel triumphant. But what you feel is settled. Like the final piece of something has clicked into place.

That night, you lie in bed with Mona’s hand at your throat and her breath in your ear, and it hits you: You’re not afraid anymore. Not of her. Not of what you’ve become. Not even of what you’re capable of.

You want her power. You want to share it. And you know now—you were never her victim. You were her creation.

The rain has stopped. There’s a stillness in the house that’s almost sacred. No birds, no wind—just the faint hum of quiet obedience in every room.

You pad barefoot into the kitchen the next morning, Mona’s silk robe wrapped around you like armor. It still smells like her—amber, smoke, power. You don’t bother tying it.

The girl is already there.

Kneeling by the oven, scrubbing the tile. Her movements are too fast, too frantic, like if she works hard enough she might disappear.

You stand in the doorway for a moment and just watch her. The tremble in her spine. The quick glance over her shoulder. The way she immediately ducks her head again.

You love it. Not in the way you used to love. Not the soft, giving kind. This is something deeper. Sharper. Almost holy.

You walk to the counter and sit. She stiffens when she hears the stool scrape the floor. You let the silence stretch. Then: “Coffee.” Your voice is low. Even. Calm. But it cuts through her like a blade.

She stumbles to her feet and obeys. Hands shaking. You don’t help. You don’t thank her. You just watch.

When she sets the cup in front of you, you reach out—slowly, deliberately—and take her wrist. She freezes. You don’t squeeze. You don’t threaten. You just hold her there. Make her look at you.

And when she does—when her eyes meet yours, wide and frightened, pleading—you smile. “I could’ve been you,” you say softly. “You know that, don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to. You release her. Take a sip. It’s perfect. Behind you, you hear the soft click of Mona’s heels approaching.

She enters without a word and leans in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you. You meet her eyes. She’s beaming.

There’s something almost tender in the way she looks at you now. Something reverent. “Look at you,” she murmurs. “You’ve found your footing.”

You glance back at the girl, who has quietly returned to her corner. Head down. Knees bruised. “Fear,” you say, swirling your coffee, “is a kind of worship.”

Mona crosses the room and kisses your forehead. “I knew you’d understand,” she whispers. You rest your head against her shoulder, looking out at your kingdom. The kitchen, the house, the girl. All of it. Yours. Hers. Forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It happens on a Tuesday.

You find her slumped in the servant’s room—wrist pale and open, sheets stained a dull brown. She must’ve done it hours ago. No note. No drama. Just quiet defiance. Or maybe desperation.

You stand in the doorway and look at her for a long time. You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You just sigh.

“She couldn’t even finish the floors,” you say that evening, curled in Mona’s lap, her fingers idly combing through your hair.

Mona hums in mild irritation, swirling a spoon through her espresso. “I told you she wasn’t built for longevity. All that conviction—useless without structure.”

You stretch, slow and catlike, lips brushing the underside of her jaw. “We’ll have to place an ad.” Mona groans dramatically. “Ugh. Interviews.” You laugh softly. “Can we get one that doesn’t cry?”

“Or pray.”

“Or try to save me?” Mona tightens her grip around your waist. “You’re not in need of saving,” she murmurs. “You’re perfect.” You smile into her throat.

Later that week, a new girl arrives. Young. Eager. Nervous. She calls you “Miss.” You offer her a drink. Something calming. She takes it with both hands.

And from the top of the stairs, Mona watches you with pride gleaming in her eyes. You’ve learned to play her game. No—your game now.

And the house? The house remains hungry. Always hungry.

I have to make 6 outputs for our journalism but here i am reading angst and i feel numb.

THE DEVIL WORKS HARD BUT WRITERS WORK HARDER 😭 GYAT DAMN

Do I have a problem for simping to older people? YES

Ive read this thrice now. Words can't explain how good this masterpiece is! I had to take breaks from all that tension AND MY LORD IM SCREAMING AND CREAMING NOT ONLY FROM THIS FIC BUT ALSO @anthewitch 's DRAWING!!!! It is absolutely BREATHTAKING

All blood is black in the night

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: You had caught her eye long ago. So pretty and pure, a strange thing for her to find in a line of work as was showbiz, and she was going to make sure she had you. No matter what. Not even if there was a rune marking you as someone else's property.

Warnings: smut (+18), swearing, oral (Avis receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), tit play, spanking, strap ons, blood, vampires, lingerie, hair pulling, biting, power play, Dom/Sub, marking, magic...

Author's note: I saw @anthewitch 's drawing of Avis as a vampire with Lilia and just coudnl't help myself. I'm sorry it took me so long to write it when I promised it would come out soon, but situations happened (I'm better now), and I wanted it to be good. I hope that you all like it and as always, be gentle but tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking in something. I also accept ideas and suggestions that you might have. Available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader. I LOVE MY WIFE!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️To @p2pecleanerwitheyes for being helping out when I needed her and for making the collage. LOVE YOU!!!!❤️❤️❤️ And to @anthewitch for the drawing of Avis that's in the middle of the collage. ITS GORGEOUS!!!

Word count: 28 K (As an apology)

All blood is black in the night

The smoke in the air was thick, like a dark fog that carried souls in silent parade through the streets, moaning and crying for release that would never come, only pain and an eternal wish that would never be heard. It was utterly delicious to taste such despair and fear lacing through the puffs that came out of her nostrils and mouth, like a dragon that’s ready to set fire to the entire world, to feast on the terror of all those small insignificant beings that walked past her as time stood still. The horrid and bright lights of the lampposts outside her office only increased her need for darkness, to be one with the shadows, to feel the adrenaline coursing through her bloodless veins until her dead heart pounded against her chest in anticipation, or perhaps to lazily stroll through streets that led nowhere simply to feel the sting of heat and cold against her skin for an instant. What a curse it was to be eternally beautiful and yet to be doomed to seek that which was not hers ever to have to calm her ever-growing thirst as she tumbled around the world as if it belonged to her. The ashes from her cigarette fell slowly onto the ground by her feet, swaying and breaking apart before collapsing on the floor like a sandcastle of consumed lives, like embers that were flashing their last orange flames before being snatched away by death, forgotten by the world, but not Avis. Never Avis.

She was a patient woman, someone who always got what she wanted and never apologised for getting it, but even with her perfection there was one detail she despised above everything else, her one and only regret. Decades past by, humans died and were born and from all those people that grew and crossed her path she could only feast of the bodies of men and the languid and virginal bodies of women, pretty dainty things untouched, unblemished by sin, an occurrence that was diminishing her supply of blood as the decades went by, as her cigarette became nothing between her perfect red lips. But even in her patience Avis was a powerful being, something far more impressive and important than those boys Ernie so willingly provided for her to satiate her hunger for passion and sex as much as her hunger for their flesh, and in that power she had bent rules and laws in her favour seeking something that up until a few months ago she had been unsure what it was. That smell, pure as the first specks of oxygen that had kissed the Earth, sweet as the first drops of honey that Spring brought, rich as the most expensive wine Avis had ever tasted, had welcomed her on a quiet and simply boring Monday morning, followed by the perfect image of a saint.

Hair neatly brushed and braided, cheeks rosy by the morning cold, not an inch of your skin spoilt in any way, pale and oh so enticing. The instant her oak eyes had landed on your form, hungry for everything that made you so utterly perfect, she had made it her mission to get you as close to her as possible, no matter what, not caring what others thought. She was a widow, a rich and gorgeous woman mature enough to know what she desired and how to get it, and stupid young kids who judged her with their fearful eyes wouldn’t stop her. She could make them all disappear in one long delicious rampage and get new people to work for her, after all Ace Studios was the best place in which to make ones, dreams come true. Or nightmares.

Every single detail had been set to lure you in, slowly drive you insane with lust until you begged her to take you but somehow everything had either failed or seemed to you like a lovely caring touch, a fact that had driven Avis insane with anger and frustration. Every single time your eyes had tenderly looked at her and thanked her only to totally miss the point had ended up with Avis fucking one of her boys to death. Literally. It wasn’t only the roughness with which she played with them, biting, scratching, choking them until they were on the verge of passing out as she rode them fast and hard, pouncing and fucking them until she was pleased, no matter how many times that could be, draining them until they were merely puppets in her perfectly manicured hands, her tongue licking every wound she had inflicted on their bodies, showing the gentleness she had foregone throughout the entire exchange until she grew tired of having them in her bed and quickly devoured them, blood staining her mouth and body as she let her lust and thirst mix in a perfect dance of sex and horror with which she satisfied herself one last time without fail.

But lately Ernie had been lacking boys that could withstand Avis’s energy, her body begging for blood, and yet she controlled herself, keeping tabs on you and making sure to get rid of any male eyes that fell on you, ripping them out without mercy, so angry that she had forgone her ritual and simply disposed of them. You might be too pure and innocent to notice her advances but everyone in that fucking place better know that you were hers or she would rip them all to pieces in the most gruesome sight of blood and flesh anyone could ever imagine. All for you. The cigarette in her lips had long died as she sat on her leather chair contemplating her options, thinking about what she was going to do with you because for the first time you had flirted, a giggle as sweet as anything Avis had ever had in her entire life and it would have been exquisite to let that sound fuck her under her clothes but it had not been directed at her. Some secretary or whatnot had caught your eye, and you had laughed at her mediocre jokes even when Avis was only a few feet from you, and that simple action, the sight of you all pure and saintly so close to the line of perversion was something she was not willing to take.

Between her index finger and her thumb, she put out the cigarette butt, the glass ashtray glinting under the horrid white lights, the entire office submerged in shadows that Avis longed to be in, to drag you with her and show you exactly where you belonged. To rip you from the “right” path and make sure you never forgot who your mistress was, your Goddess and the only person you should ever worship and sacrifice yourself to. Her acute hearing could make out the silence in the entire floor, the last person having left over ten minutes ago, making your little car one of the very few that were still in the lot, and therefore making it perfect for Avis to simply slip into your tiny cubicle and make a few suggestions. No, Avis thought as the plan formed in her head, her mind calculating and placing everything neatly in their rightful spot, hands pressed against each other as they rested against her lips, eyes narrowing and dilating. Suggestion shad been failing her in all these weeks, she would not waste any more energy on seemingly stupid seemly touches when it was clear your innocent mind was not picking on them. Time had always been on her side, but tonight it was an enemy, an hourglass that was running out of the thin and fine element, giving Avis the push she needed to turn the tables on her favour, to stop playing it safe and finally win the game.

After all the prize was far too sublime and tempting for her not to take it. Graceful as a tender April breeze she stood from her chair, her fingers tracing the edge of the wood of her desk as she rounded it, her black heels echoing against the walls with each step she took, the floor smooth under her soles. Even after she had finished her cigarette the air seemed to be foggy, filled with rivulets of thick smoke, or maybe it was the lust clouding her mind, she could not figure it out, not did she want to waste time on such a trivial task when there were far more important things to address, her eyes raking over every item in her office as she prepared herself for what was to be a delicious night. This room was a far cry from how it had looked when her husband had been alive, depressive, far too masculine for a man who could not keep up with Avis in the slightest, though she had made sure to keep a souvenir from him before his death, a tiny detail in a glass jar that hid in the depths of her desk. She had made sure he would never cheat on her again, watching in horrific delight the way his eyes widened in terror when she had ripped his dick off, basking in his pain and his despair before she grew tired of his screams. Oh, poor Mrs. Amberg who had to see her husband dead as she arrived home, crying fake tears and becoming the richest woman in the entire state in under a few hours. She had had half a mind to display her trophy, but it held more meaning for her where it rested.

She had not noticed the smile that had broken from her lips, dangerous, white teeth glinting under the mix of moonlight and lamplights, observing the trinkets she had been given throughout the decades, hoping to add you that her ever growing collection, although there was part of her that wanted to keep you for longer than she had with any other pet. Maybe if you proved yourself to her, you wouldn’t be a pet at all. Destiny seemed to be on her side tonight and had listened to her thoughts and pleas, as in a sudden and surprised move every light outside the lot turned off, a few sparks flying as if the electricity had suddenly spiked, pitch black darkness enfolding Avis and filling up every inch of the room, her body thriving in the feeling of the shadows that caressed her skin, her head lulled back in delight as her hands brushed against the sides of her body tasting the positively intoxicating flavour of secrets and filth that hid under the pretence of night. A predator can hunt better when its prey cannot see them, and a woman could give in to her pleasures when there are no unworthy eyes to observe her.

Her sense of hearing and smell weren’t the only thing that had improved since she had been turned decades ago, her vision had adapted and in the still of the night there was no soul she could not see, no poor unfortunate fool that she would not have, though she could grant you the tenderness that she never provided for anyone else if she so desired. A glass of scotch had been sitting on top of her desk for the last two hours as she planned, forgotten as the ice slowly melted, but now it was picked up and downed in one go, the burning sensation that travelled through her mouth and down her throat soothing the human doubts that sometimes would slither their way into her mind. Compassion, guilt, maybe even regret, but she was too old and too used to how cruel the world was to let anyone, not even her old self, make her feel bad for the things she had done and would continue doing. If she had been stripped of all her humanity against her will once upon a time, she would take advantage of it for her own gain not caring who got hurt. She could not die; it was of no concern to her what happened to those she sent on their merry way to Hell.

Picking up her purse and making her way to the big doors, she was sure to pick up her stole, draping it over her shoulder with one quick motion that fell perfectly over her clothes, like a rehearsed move that was meant to perhaps surprise someone, but in truth the only thing she wore to make people gasp, stumble on their words and beg for her permission to touch her was her underwear. Every morning, she dressed to fuck, then chose an outfit to kill and arranged herself to bewitch, and never had that process failed her. Humanity had failed her, and she was going to take revenge on them tonight.  It was borderline delirious to see all those innocent faces filled with lust and agony when she undressed, when she gave them the opportunity to touch her, to please her, always under her command and never taking liberties, always showing Avis a good time. But it was even more sublime to see the terror when in all her naked glory, still sweaty and dripping cum onto the hotel bedsheets or her own Egyptian linens, she feasted on their sweet, tainted blood, almost as good as all the orgasms she drowned in.

The last time she had a boy had been three weeks prior, which was all the more reason why she was walking out of her office, locking the doors and heading towards the lift partially wondering if there had been a power outage and she would have to take the stairs. Thankfully the button turned on as she pressed it, leaving her standing there waiting, tracing every step of her master plan in her mind, imagining the moment she would make you hers, ruining your virginal body in ways only she could. What a sight it will be when she has the perfect mix of your blood and your arousal on her tongue, crimson rivers falling from her mouth and down her neck until they get smeared all over her chest and collarbones as she thrives in her lust, perhaps your blood even dripping from her nipples in slow teardrops as her naked body lays covered in that bright red liquid, Avis watching all that pristine skin marked by her lips in bruises and by her teeth in bites, forever tainted. Ruined. God, she could not wait to rip that angelic façade and find what depraved little creature laid underneath for her to fuck until you could not remember your own name. She had gone so long without a woman it was a visceral need now, raw, maddening, primeval, and she would show you.

You worked on the second floor, three doors down from the lift, right beside a council room that only her husband used to use, a boring, utterly hideous place that made her want to vomit every time she set foot in it. She had been meaning to remodel it, but her mind had been far too preoccupied by you and your obliviousness that it had slipped her mind, though after tonight she might have all the time in the world to think about such things. Once you were dealt with. From the lift she could make out the soft melodies of conversations, fading in the night as your heart pumped in a relaxed, steady rhythm, the only sound left in that entire floor, lights turned off except for the hallway that led to your tiny cubicle. She had thought of several ways in which to tackle this, from simply taking you without mercy over your desk to taking you to dinner, in a fake attempt to woo you, but after considering everything, she came to the conclusion, there was no need for such brutality nor such romance. If you gave yourself completely to her there would be plenty of time for both, but if you didn’t… Let’s just say that Avis knew how to inflict pain as much as she could give pleasure, and she would not hesitate to punish you if the opportunity arose.

Flickering fluorescent lights bathed her fiery hair in disgusting artificial beams that could not make justice to the sight of Avis under the sun, simply breathtaking in the morning light as dawn broke through the horizon taking all the monstrosities of the night with the last sparkling stars, but the moment in which your eyes had settled on her form, and had drank in every inch of her when she wasn’t looking, was at dusk. There was something so mysterious and perfect when the golden light of the evening dressed her body in melted silks of diamonds and rubies only to be dressed in a perpetual gown of darkness and moonlight moments after, every star in her eyes, every secret about to spill from her lips.  You weren’t blind, you had seen her the moment you had set foot in this place, and a quiet voice had been telling you ever since that there was something more about Mrs. Amberg, something dangerous, something you could not quite pinpoint but that had you on the edge of your seat every time she talked with you which apparently was odd in itself.

This breathtaking woman, who filled the entire building with her presence, her confidence and her power, was giving her whole attention to you and no one else. Apparently seeing her around was a rare occurrence, a miracle some would say; she worked but never ate with the rest of the executives, never engaged in conversation with anyone but Mr. Samuels and Ms. Kincaid and kept pretty much to herself during the day. At night though Avis transformed into a completely different person. Rumours of deadly parties, of people that had crossed her and disappeared, of rituals she did to look as beautiful as she did spread like wildfire at the most random of times, and ever since you had arrived your name had floated through the halls like a curse. Avis Amberg didn’t give her sole attention to one person unless there was some sort of benefit she desired, people thought, a fact that wasn’t too far off from the truth, but Avis had had many virgins in her life and never had she met someone like you. A perfect and rare specimen that she would have for herself for all eternity, no one else allowed to claim your body and soul.

And part of you knew that. A small, tiny part of your brain that seemed to know what was going on but that it was far too small and quiet to be heard, warnings and pleas falling on deaf ears. You might have been oblivious to her advances, choosing to believe she was being kind instead of wanting to further your status from acquaintances to friends, or more, and as you worked alone at your desk you should have known that had been the mistake. You had been so engrossed in your typing, the clicking of the keys hitting the paper, echoing in the air, bouncing off the windows and closed doors as Avis’s footsteps were muffled by the carpeted floors, preventing you from hearing her approach you. But she could hear almost every cell in your body moving, your blood flowing and pumping through your veins making her mouth water, her tongue tracing the shape of her teeth, caressing her fangs gently in anticipation. She hadn’t felt such a thrill in a long time, and it was intoxicating to feel so ready to play, to wonder just how delicious you might be.

-Working late I see. – a quiet yelp escaped you, your hand rushing to your chest as your heart skipped a beat in fear at the interruption, the pencil you had had on your other hand slipping from your hand and rolling over your desk onto the ground, the sound soft as it collided with the tiles. Your head had jerked upwards to see Avis standing there, her hands toying with the fingers of her red gloves and she rested her body on the wall of your cubicle, her upper arm and shoulder pressed firmly over the smooth paint. You hadn’t seen her all day, almost missing her daily check-in before lunch or the random visits to observe you without uttering a word, just so her deep, rich eyes would fall on your form as her lips quirked into a wicked smile. – A pretty young thing like you should not be staying here, alone, at this time. Anyone could come in here and make indecent proposals to you, doll.

-I… Good evening, Mrs. Amberg. I… I was just finishing this report. I was going to leave in a few minutes.

-So much can happen in a few minutes. The night is a dangerous moment for any poor soul to be alone. – her body moved so slowly, her hips swaying from side to side as the fabric of her outfit hugged her figure, approaching your desk knowing perfectly that you would not run away. Never before had you seen clothes like this on her, a blouse bathed in black lace with a plunging neckline that allowed her black corselette underneath to peek through the red velvet. And as unusual as this outfit was, you could not say that the mix of black and red did not suit her. With each step the black velvet that draped over her legs, long and nearly brushing the ground, flowed like water around her curvy hips, pieces of rich oxblood red made out of translucent silk giving you glimpses of the skin underneath, of the nude stockings that covered her flesh. For a moment you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you, the roses embroidered on the skirt seeming to move in a sea of climbing flowers around her legs as the space between you became less and less, but it wasn’t that what made a red hue appear on your skin, it was the fact that through that silk, that beautifully expensive fabric, you could see the top of her stockings, the black lace that wrapped around her thigh and made your mind reel. Avis picked up like clockwork the way in which your once steady heart now beat nearly at double the speed, hammering against your ribs.

-It’s safe in here, and I don’t walk home Mrs. Amberg.

-Nowhere is truly safe doll. Has no one ever told you that?

-If it isn’t safe, why are you still here, ma’am?

-Because of pretty young things like you. Nothing can hurt me, but so many things can happen to you. – she was practically hovering over your desk, the embroideries around her breasts roses that had small rubies threaded in between them, like drops of blood that fell as one’s hands were prickled by the thorns. It was even more beautiful to see it so close, to almost feel the warm, soft fabric that hugged her waist, wishing you could undo the buttons on the front and see for yourself what truly hid underneath. Rumours had been floating around Hollywood for years of scars she carried, of images of deities she had imprinted on her skin, symbols that tainted her very soul and in your curious nature you wanted to see if she was unblemished and fair as you thought or if the world had been right all along. And if her freckled kissed skin was anything to go by, plump breasts begging to be released from in between their velvet and lace prison, you were pretty sure you had an early start on the race. The touch of her fingertips on your chin as she lifted your head slightly sent a jolt of electricity all throughout your body, but you didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak, the contrast of her cold flesh on yours causing goosebumps to rise on your body. – We wouldn’t want anything nor anyone to touch you, would we now?

-No… No ma’am.

-Then be a good girl and get your things. I may have a chore or two for you that need to be completed tonight.

-Ms Kincaid said that all the important reports were made by her or Ms. Stinton.

-They are, but these chores can only be done by you, honey. You don’t want to cross me and upset me, do you? – the tender grip she had had on your chin suddenly became a harsh grab of your face, pulling you closer to her until your body had stood from its chair and was practically bent over the desk, breasts brushing your typewriter. Her eyes were staring at you with a deep sense of want, perhaps the initial stages of lust, her irises somewhat dilated but still allowing you to drown in that exquisite sea of browns that danced before you, singing in perfectly rehearsed voices to lure you deeper and deeper into her spell. You didn’t know then, but in that position with her red lips inches from yours you had already signed to do whatever she desired, given yourself without speaking, all so you could stare at her eyes for all eternity. Avis, being the smart woman she was, knew perfectly well that she had you wrapped around her finger already, but where was the fun when there’s no resistance, no pleadings and apologies? She wanted you to beg for mercy, and she would have it.

-No ma’am.

-Good girl. Get your things, I’m driving you to my place to… fulfil your duties. It’s far too late for me to let you go home all alone.

You were about to retort, mouth slightly agape when her grip on your face hardened, leaving you unable to voice your response, not that she would have let you say no by the way her eyes hardened slightly, narrowing and glancing at your rosy lips. Just that action made you close it, nodding in agreement at a question that was never asked. That seemed to please her, and her fingers loosened on your skin, her smooth tips caressing the reddened flesh she had abused as if she could soothe it. You were so eager to please, so ready to be controlled and broken, hints of fear mixing with your perfume, matching the way your eyes widened and shone in slight alarm. It was delicious to smell such a spicy aroma in the air, almost as terrified as the souls that followed her in the shadows as she walked through the night, their cries music to her ears, their tears the water she used to bathe her body in and soon yours would join them. Unless you proved to be far more rewarding to keep around. Avis’s thumb traced the shape of your lower lip, removing part of the balm you had applied not that long ago, and in a bold move to test the waters she moved her hand away from you, releasing your face at last, and proceeded to lick the translucent product with her tongue, making sure to keep her eyes on yours as she did so. Your body had the expected reaction.

The rush of blood in your body, the way your breath picked up would have been unnoticeable to a normal person, but Avis was far from human or normal, and she thrived in knowing that you were already crumbling when she had barely touched you, barely teased you. God, this was going to be a good night. Your body was frozen on the spot, watching Avis’s every move as the temperature under your skin rose by several degrees, following the shape of her hands, veins prominent on the back, nails trimmed and painted to perfection, an absolutely stunning piece of jewellery glinting in her middle finger that matched her person down to the very last detail. The stone embedded in between a dozen small diamonds and white gold seemed to be the deepest red ruby your eyes had ever seen, and as she moved her hand you could have sworn that you had got a glimpse of a distressed face reflecting off of it, but as soon as you blinked it was gone, leaving only the uneasy feeling that that ruby was more than just a simple stone. Under the flickering and nauseating lights as she hovered over you her hair shone and glowed in flames that framed her gorgeous face and bathed her features, a sea of fire that your fingers longed to touch, longed to be burnt in, her red lips slightly parted, plump, and so very inviting, calling out to you in whispers that licked at the back of your ears. Were your eyes so enthralled that your own mind was playing tricks on your overheated body? Every thread of fabric that dressed her seemed to flow around her like snakes, hugging every curve, hiding her skin and yet giving you glimpses of what you could have, what, as the seconds passed, your body was craving more and more.

Inches away from you, that velvet she wore matched the colour of your blood, deep, rich, but still inside you, rushing through your veins making Avis’s fingers twitch with want, but she had to be patient. With a grace you hadn’t witnessed before Avis straightened on her spot, tall in her shiny black heels, waiting for you to break free from her gaze and start gathering your things, but maybe she hadn’t controlled herself as much as she thought, intoxicating you too much and too early and leaving your body under a spell that you could not break on your own. For an instant she felt a glimpse of regret, maybe it was guilt, but it vanished just as fast as she moved around your desk, your body falling back on your chair of its own accord. There were no barriers between the two of you now, Avis observing your soft blue dress as it gathered around your thighs, your hands shaking softly, holding onto the linen of your gown as your breath picked up, your heart rate almost spiking with each step Avis took towards you, her perfume slamming onto you like a sudden wave that knocked you off your feet, whiffs of florals and a hint of vanilla filling your lungs. Her stole slipped from her shoulder slightly, threatening to fall as she bent her body, palms firmly on the armrests of your chair, her purse and gloves temporarily placed on your desk, allowing her whole body to pay attention to yours. It was a strange sensation to be barely inches from her face and not feel heat emanating from her, not hot breath ghosting over your lips, only cold, but it was a strange cold, one that somehow was filled with life and got a sharper response than any warm caress ever could.

-What is it Ms. Y/S? Why so quiet all of a sudden? Have my words scared you?

-I…

-Shhhh. – with her finger under your chin again she was able to lift your head, tilting it back slightly so that her lips were barely less than an inch from you, your nose smelling the rich carmine that had so neatly been applied throughout the day. How would it look smudged on your lips? Would it taste of her? Your brain could not comprehend these feelings, this visceral need that had grown inside you so quickly but at the same time you could not make it fade, perhaps didn’t have any desire to do so, after all it was well known that Avis Amberg got what she wanted and never took no for an answer. – You don’t have to fear anyone as long as I’m here doll. I’ll protect you… if you behave and don’t upset me. You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?

-Y… Yes, ma’am.

-Good girl. Go get your things, and hurry. There’s a lot to do before I release you.

If she did allow you the sweet and eternally damned release of death. Not a single virgin she had ever had had stayed with her, all meeting their demise as soon as their purpose was done, but there was something about you, something so delicious that she could taste it on the tip of her tongue, letting her breath, tainted with scotch, brush your lips before she stood up again readjusting her stole. She had nearly set you ablaze and she seemed so cool, so calm and relaxed, as if she hadn’t just spiked every hormone in your system, your mind clouded, foggy, every thought slow. You could only think of doing what she told you, of obeying her every word until she was pleased, until she praised your willingness to do what she desired, something you had never truly thought about until this very moment, when your entire world shifted from living your lonely life to being anything and everything Avis wanted you to be. As she rounded your desk once again, swaying her hips a little bit more than necessary, you practically sprung from your chair, throwing the cover of your typewriter on without much care, grabbing your white jacket and small purse from the hanger behind you, nearly tripping on a stack of old reports you had no room for. A smirk painted Avis’s lips at your clumsiness, a small chuckle nearly escaping her throat, but she kept it in. You were such a delightfully young and naïve thing.

Even before you had put your jacket on Avis was already stepping out of your cubicle and walking down the hallway towards the lift, your person rushing to turn lamps off and follow her before she could get upset at your lack of speed. A cold cup of coffee would be left on your desk, next to a picture, for whoever came to see you in the morning, only for them to find dust gathering over your forgotten reports and thirsty plants, unsure if you would ever return or be mourned in the early hours of the morning. The picture that presided your desk showed a gorgeous older woman of peppery curls and rich chocolate eyes, that strangely seemed to be twins of Avis’s, dressed in a yellow jacket and the hints of a white blouse underneath, the entire photograph radiating comfort and beauty as the strange woman smiled, a soft smile that stretched her reddish lips slightly. A signature on the right corner said “Yours forevers. Lilia xx”, swallowed by the deep shadows of the night. When Lilia found out about what Avis had done to you all Hell would break loose, two completely different and dangerous worlds colliding, and in that war, you would be in the middle.

The lift opened exactly as you stopped on your tracks beside Avis, the woman glancing at you from the corner of her eye already counting and planning all the things she was going to do to you, every depraved and perverted idea consuming what little control she had with each passing second. It was proving so very difficult not to pounce on you and suck you dry, the craving for your virgin blood nearly maddening, all consuming. Her grip on her gloves and purse nearly turned her knuckles white, inhaling sharply when your arm nearly brushed hers as the lift came to a halt on the ground floor, your perfume, a mix between berries and something sweet that she was unsure whether resembled caramel or vanilla, filling her lungs as her ears counted each beat of your heart, tracing the shape of her fangs in anticipation. With a loud ding that echoed in the mostly empty lobby Avis didn’t bother to wait for you, simply headed towards the entrance doors knowing that you would follow, that she had you wrapped around her perfect finger, and you would never stray from her side. Under her spell, her voice bouncing in your head “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”, every ounce of free will had vanished from your body, your steps quick to keep up with Avis’s confident strides, your eyes following the shape of her spine over the velvet of her blouse, mesmerised by the way her skirt hugged her ass to such detail that you were almost sure you could see the garters of her stockings through the red embroidered roses, your mind jealous of each thread that dressed her.

The night air was slightly chilly, colder than you had expected after the heat of the day but to Avis it was the perfect weather, that gentle breeze caressing her skin with tender invisible fingers in that way only someone like her could feel. She had been a bride of darkness when she first got turned, scared, confused and so very lost but now she was longer that stupid little thing, she was its only wife, and she demanded and yearned for every touch and kiss it would grant her knowing that there was no one more powerful than her. Feeling the tender kiss of night on her red lips she smiled softly, thriving in the fact that you had to stay close to her while she walked towards her Cadillac, allowing herself to study you without you being able to see her, from your angelic face to the way your breasts bounced with each step you took. It was delicious and Avis almost craved for that sweet fog that would hide you both from the world, no disturbances annoying her while she devoured you, in every single sense, in the middle of the parking lot. But she supposed that the pitch blackness that was bathing the city allowing the shadows of lonely ghosts and souls to roam free to pave Avis’s way, was enough, a warning that she had to be patient as you’d be far sweeter when she had you in her bed and not over dirty concrete.

It would be a lie to say that you weren’t scared, the trek you were so very used to from the building to your car now a sea of nothing that consumed every spot of light your eyes could see, making every step you took unsteady, terrified even, but you had to trust Avis. She seemed to know exactly where she was going and you could not afford to get lost in this darkness; no one would ever find you again, and so you kept your body as close to hers as possible without touching her, keeping a moderate distance that wouldn’t make her feel imprisoned, almost crashing into her the moment she halted her walk, your hands clinging to your jacket and muttering apologies that were far too quiet for anyone to hear, but Avis did, and she smirked, her teeth shining in the night as if they had a light of their own. Avis’s skilled fingers pulled the keys to her beautiful Cadillac out of her black purse, working quickly on opening it, pulling the door and bending to flick the headlights on as the smell of your fear nearly overwhelmed her senses. She adored it but not when it overshadowed everything else that she wanted to taste phantomly on her tongue. As the bright beams bathed the ground and everything on a six feet radius your mind calmed its raging thoughts, eyes falling on Avis’s form as she was still bent partially inside the car, the fabric of her skirt taunt, nearly stretching the seams to the point in which you thought it might burst, firmly clinging to her round ass.

Everything was falling into place, a set of dominos crumbling under the steady weight of her heeled foot, watching in gleeful delight as each step performed just as expected, her power, the lust that flowed through her veins every hour of every day intoxicating you, making your mind hers as the clock ticked by. Your body would bend and break for her. Even though she found your reactions sublime she was finding it harder and harder to control her needs, and with no time to waste she pushed herself upright, turned to look at you and simply gestured with her head to the passenger seat, and thankfully you picked up on it quickly and rushed to the other side of the car, stumbling on your own feet. That eagerness did bring a laugh out of Avis, a sound deep and rumbling that echoed in the night like a perfectly tuned orchestra that played ancient organs under the dark clouds that hid the full moon, her head lulled back as her frame shook slightly for a moment. So adorable, so different from the other girls she had had, perhaps if you performed as she wanted you to, she’d keep you around.

Settling herself behind the wheel she pulled out her gold cigarette case from her purse before throwing it in the space between the two of you, her stole flying to the back seat without a care, the hood of the car off to enjoy the crisp air of the night. The red carmine stained the butt of her cigarette, turning her face to look at you while raising an eyebrow, asking without speaking, perhaps even demanding, for you to light it, your trembling hands grabbing her purse and looking for her gold lighter observing briefly the tube of lipstick, a handkerchief with red stains, a small bottle of perfume and a load of cash that was far more you had ever seen in your entire life, finding the lighter in a small pocket. Your hands shook as you lifted them, the flame flickering dangerously close to Avis’s face, but she steadied you as her cold flesh wrapped around your fingers, holding you still, and letting the cigarette burn between her lips. That first puff of smoke, the taste of nicotine and tobacco, tempered her system, calming her needy body slightly as her gaze locked onto yours, letting the smoke escape her mouth and nostrils in a big thick cloud but not before she blowed the last few rivulets your way, the swirls caressing your skin as your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. How could such a thing smell just so like her, sweet and addictive, as if she was breathing part of her own self in your direction?

You hadn’t even noticed, lost in your own world, how Avis has slid closer to you, her face inches form yours, tempted to brush her lips over yours but deciding against it after a moment, simply granting you the ghostly touch of her cigarette in your mouth, your eyes shooting open when you tasted her carmine and saliva, breathing in that deep tobacco that coursed through Avis’s veins, almost tasting her scotch on your tongue. If your body had been inadvertently fighting against her spell it was no longer bothering, the salty aroma of your arousal finally reaching Avis’s nostrils. Sharp as a blade she took her cigarette back, her nails raking over your jaw and neck as her pupils dilated, red angry marks painting your skin before she turned the engine off and backed out of her spot towards the gates, leaving you stunned, highly worked up and frozen in your seat. Your breath was hitched in your lungs holding onto the smoke without realising it, feeling the vibrations of the engine as Avis manoeuvred expertly through the gates and down the road, one hand on the wheel while the other held her cigarette, the radio playing a soft song that you couldn’t truly make out as the car sped down the street.

It was such a strange sight to see Hollywood in the dark, not even the moonlight daring to break through the clouds, like something out of a horror movie. No one out in the streets, even though it was summer, no music floating through the air as doors opened, the expected broken songs from clubs not even daring to slip through the cracks of the old buildings, afraid that the delicate balance that had settled over the city would shatter, taking everyone in its apocalyptic destruction. There was something so eerie about how things were developing, how the night was unfolding in a succession of occurrences that seemed too exact to be coincidences and yet there was no one to blame but the universe, the relative randomness of these things falling in no one’s hands. Though it didn’t make s feel any better. There were no lights even inside the houses, as if the entire world had gone dark, the only source of light coming from the cars that would pass Avis’s as she drove, completely relaxed, smoking her cigarette and letting the puffs of grey clouds bathe her face before they vanished into the air, the radio sounding more like static than actual voices. It was almost like a warning sign that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, but you could not turn back now, not that you wanted to. Being with Avis was giving you a sense of safety and protection that you were sure no one else could ever give you, her body commanding the night as if she owned it, as if it owed her and would never mess with her.

From between two clouds the gentle rays of silver moonlight set the town alight, easing your fears for an instant or two, and allowing you to stare unabashed at your companion’s face. If ever should you say Avis Amberg wasn’t a stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking woman your eyes had been lost to a world where there was nothing worth living for, something from which you would never recover and that demanded death, because the day she was created every God in the universe, every entity, every fleck of matter that floated in between black holes had collided and exploded in a dance of particles that had sculped her. Every angel that had shaped her face and body had cut their hands off afterwards so there would never be a most exquisite work of art in this world. Unbeknownst to you though, eternity had given her the touch of immortal beauty that would never fade, never wilt. Avis was forever still in time, watching as others shrivelled and passed while she drank a glass of wine in her rich world built in a bubble of blood and stranded souls.  And now, if she had it her way, you would either live with her inside it or accompany all those whom she had killed before, and something in the back of your head was extremely aware of such a fact.

Avis could have told you to stare ahead, to make watch the shadows of all the houses and palm trees that the Cadillac’s headlights, along with the moonlight, let you see only for a brief moment, but the fact that your attention was on her, so deeply attached to her form, your heart beating hard against your ribs as your gaze never strayed from her, she could  not find it in her to deny you such pleasure. She was breaking so many rules tonight, allowing you to do things that she would never even think of allowing to one of her boys to do, things she had most certainly never let any of her girls even think about, but she wasn’t displeased with your eagerness to adore her. She had not forgotten your flirting though, and she had many, many plans to ensure that no other human would ever cross your mind, not even for a second. She wanted to be inside your head, inside your blood, to make you an addict and never let you live without her, your soul dependent of every single inch of her body, for her love, her pain and her desire. And the best way to start was by letting you look at her, drink her in and practically stamp her profile with fire into your brain.

Invisible fingers traced her shape of those perfect curls that frame her forehead, the breeze that formed as the car sped down the street not even touching a single strand, as if the air around you feared her and refused to touch her unless she desired it. Under the moonlight her ginger locks looked like stunning seas of rubies that were threaded through every single hair strand, matching the deep blood gems that decorated her collarbone and fingers, making you wonder if they would be soft in your hands, if her body would be truly cold if she was on top of you. Her long eyelashes fluttered open and closed with each blink, but it seemed to you as if the entire world had gone slow, every breath and movement suddenly taking centuries when they used to take seconds. Perhaps you were drunk already, inhibited simply by her, but you could not find the power to speak, to voice your concerns or to simply compliment her, your eyes kept watching how drops of silver moonlight fell from her lashes into her chocolate eyes, taking you back to a moment when instead of ginger curls there had been peppery ringlets in between your fingers. Still Avis was the only woman you could focus on, Lilia a million miles away from this very moment, pushed to the back of your mind like a forgotten thought, making your heart constrict and sting as if Avis’s hand was wrapped around it, her palm squeezing, her nails digging deep and making you bleed. 

You could imagine her licking the crimson liquid from her palm as she stared at you, as she held your still beating heart like a prize, knowing that she had you at her mercy. Avis swerved the car to the right, sending your body closer to hers, your left hand on the back of the seats, nearly touching her shoulder while your right hand shot towards the dashboard. From the corner of her eye, she saw the way your gaze travelled to her legs, the satin allowing you to see the lace of her stockings closer, your knee inches away from her. In that moment, your breath held in your lungs, she turned her head slightly to watch you, a smirk painting her lips after taking a long drag from her cigarette, the smoke puffing out of her nostrils.  God, every inch of her skin was sublime, her red lips begging for you to get closer, her rosy cheeks asking you’re your fingers to touch her, but it was her eyes, her utterly beautiful eyes, that were speaking to you, ordering you to not to a thing unless she gave you express permission. And so, you sat there, inches from her, your body temperature skyrocketing to a point that you were wondering if steam was coming off of your skin, aching in your core and wishing she would speak, tell you exactly what she wanted you your restless hands could finally do what they were practically begging to do.

Avis could already smell you, sending shivers of arousal all over her body, her foot stepping on the gas a bit more to get her mansion as fast as possible, growing restless and feeling how there were only a few threads keeping her control at bay. Flicking her cigarette out the window her eyes returned to the road, her house only a couple of streets away, feeling your body moving away from her to return to your previous place but she didn’t want that. Her hand shot to grab your thigh, stopping you in your tracks. It startled you just how cold her hands were against your scorching body, but it was a delicious contrast. As you two got closer to Avis’s place the headlights of her car dimmed, leaving the silvery glow of the moon to bathe her face almost exclusively, rivers of platinum tracing the shape of her gorgeous nose and kissing her lips, bright red mixing with silver. The engine slowed down in front of a set of big metal gates that were slightly opened, almost as if someone had been waiting for you both, the hood of Avis’s Cadillac pushing them open gently until there was enough room for her to drive through and park on her specified spot. And in all that time her hand had never lifted from your thigh, ensuring you stayed put.

Had you not been under her spell you would have noticed the front of Avis’s gorgeous house, the pillars, the neatly trimmed bushes and trees, the expensive fabrics of her curtains shining under the headlights for an instant before the car was turned off. Now there was nothing but darkness, no source of light to protect you, just the feeling of Avis’s touch on your leg to reassure you that you weren’t alone, that you would not be at the mercy of any horrid creatures that might be lurking in the night, your boss, the woman that had been trying to get your attention for weeks, shielding you. And it felt good. She was there when others had stayed behind, when the tender touch of hands filled with rings was nothing more than a ghostly sensation in the back of your mind, peppery curls and the perfect smell of incense somewhere in an apartment that you could only vaguely recall. Moonlight briefly vanished from the world, the sky cloudy, threatening storms approaching, and it was then, in that thick darkness that Avis’s hand travelled to your inner thigh, her body closer than ever before, velvet touching flesh, cold breath that no longer smelled of scotch, only nicotine, caressing your ear.

-You are going to do so well for me. Put in all the work I want, will you?

-Ye… Yes.

-Such a good girl. I have one rule that you must follow at all times, if you fail to do so, I will punish you. Severely.

-I understand. – her perfume was making you dizzy, lust seeping from every pore in her body, clawing and getting under your skin, fuelling the need for her even more, your underwear ruined at this point. Drenched practically and she had barely touched you. – What is the rule ma’am?

-The moment we cross the threshold of my house I won’t be Mrs. Amberg or ma’am anymore. Tonight, you take care of mama, tomorrow, she might take care of you.

And with that the wheels were set in motion. It was a dream the way Avis’s lips landed on your cheek in a gentle and short peck, her skin finally making contact with yours, and although her mouth was as cold as her hands, they left the imprint of fire on your flesh. In an instant the moment had ended, and just like that she was stepping out of the car, tracing her lips with her tongue to savour the taste of your skin, an appetiser of sorts, hints of what was to come. You sat there, frozen until you heard the click of the passenger door opening, her silhouette visible under the moonlight that had finally escaped from in between the clouds, her curves glowing under silver beams, her neck and cleavage drawing your eyes from where she had been sitting only moments before, claiming your full attention. There would never be a sweeter moment than the instant you begin to peel all those gorgeous clothes off of her, needing to know what laid underneath. Stumbling slightly, you stepped out of the car, following Avis towards the house as soon as she locked the car, her hips swaying from side to side far more than was needed, but you weren’t going to complain. 

The front doors seemed heavy, but Avis pulled her keys out of her purse and pushed them open with very little effort, stepping to the side to let you go in first. Should you actually step inside? There was a quiet voice in the back of your head telling you not to but her eyes, her goddammed eyes were telling you to follow her, to walk into her arms and you could not fight them, you needed to drown in them, fall so deep inside Avis that you would never ever be able to escape. So, against every coherent thought you stepped inside, the door closing with a screech until the thunderous sound of wood shutting and keys turning told you that there was no escape, not anymore. You did not have time to explore, to observe the grandiose hallway you stood in, not that you would be able to when everything was pitch black, before your body was pressed forcefully against the doors, hands on your hips, fingers digging so hard through your clothes, you were sure there would be bruises there in the morning. Avis’s body was completely moulded to yours, her breasts squashed against your chest practically spilling from her velvet blouse as her face moved until it was inches from yours, her lips brushing your skin in such featherlight touches that she was drawing goosebumps all over. Berry perfume filled her lungs, but it wasn’t overwhelming, not when she could practically smell your blood under your skin.

-It is so rare to find someone like you.

-Li… like me? – your knees buckled slightly when you felt her hips pressing against yours, her hands slowly travelling over your lower back towards your ass to pull you closer, feeling every layer that she was wearing underneath her skirt.

-Untouched. Pure. I would almost say that you were innocent, but I wouldn’t buy my own lie. I’m sure your mind is full of depraved images, isn’t it?

-I…

-Don’t be shy. Tell me. – for a moment your mind could not even begin to register her words, not when her lips were pecking under your ear, licking the skin of your jawline, but in the end you managed to pull yourself together enough to let one single fantasy escape your throat, your hands pressed firmly against the doors as you had not been granted permission to touch Avis. – Tell mama what you have imagined doing with her.

-To watch… to watch as you fuck me mama. To see us in a mirror as you fuck me.

-Is that so? Fuck, it’s always the innocent ones, isn’t it?

No other words were uttered after that, no, Avis simply grabbed your hand and pulled you with her towards the stairs, your feet stumbling slightly over the tiles as the speed at which she was moving was almost too fast for you. The fingers that were wrapped around your wrist was definitely going to leave bruises, but you were lost already and would watch as Avis ripped you open and feasted on your body if she so desired, and would never even consider complaining, though what she was going to do to you would be consider borderline torture. Walking up the stairs was a chore when your eyes were adjusting to the dark, trying to make out the way her ass was moving with each step while also fighting your clumsiness, avoiding narrowly falling down the stairs a couple of times. Reaching the landing was a miracle but you didn’t have time to catch your breath before you were being rushed into a bedroom, every item around you blurry, barely shapes when your eyes could not stray from her. Your body could not stay upright when she pushed you quickly into what you assumed was the mistress bedroom, falling to your knees close to the foot of the bed, your hands scraping on the carpet.

The sound of a faint click had barely been audible as you winced and tried to see if you had injured yourself on the fall, but you sure heard Avis’s heels over the tiles, each step slow, far too slow, calculated almost and the fact that your back was to her sent shivers of anticipation and fear down your back. What on Earth did she have in mind? Did she want you on your knees at her feet? Carefully you turned your body, crawled to see her, and for some reason what your eyes met left you breathless. Not a single window was covered by its curtains, beams of moonlight drowning the room in silver halos that bathed her body, fingers with perfect manicured nails toying with each button on the front of her blouse, right underneath her bust, walking towards you over waves of platinum and rubies, the three feet that separated you vanishing inch by inch, exactly the same way velvet unwrapped form her body when the corselette she was wearing underneath began to make itself known, peeking and caressing her ample breasts. Your heart was rushing so fast you feared it might escape your chest, and you were positive she was hearing it and thriving on the fact that she could terrify you and excite you equally, your veins enlarged as your blood sped through your body.

She had been barely a foot from you when you made the stupid decision to try and stand, thinking that she would want to be face to face with you, but she had no desire to see you any other place that on your knees. The sole of her heel met the fabric of your dress and part of your skin when she placed it on your chest, the strength on her leg keeping you in place, black polished stilettos stepping on you, keeping you in your rightful place, one hand leaving her blouse to grab the hem of her skirt. Velvet and silk slid over her shin, caressing her knee and the soft flesh of her thigh, letting your eyes feast on her nude stockings and the skin underneath, although your eyes did drift under her skirt and in between her legs. Your mouth became dry. Was your brain playing tricks on you or was she not wearing anything? The fabric had gathered around her thigh, almost right above the lace of her stockings, hiding her from you, leaving you unable to answer your own question, the need to know, to see for yourself growing with each passing second, but she made no effort to move the skirt any further. Instead, she bent forward to make her point clearer, her breasts nearly spilling form the top of her corselette, velvet caressing the sides of her bosom.

-Did I tell you you could stand? – your throat was dry, like sandpaper, your vocal cords refusing to cooperate with you and make a sound, perhaps for the best. You shook your head, knees digging onto the wrinkles of the rug, hands pressed against the ground on each side of you as your gaze drifted from her foot, following the shape of her leg all the way to her chest, tracing invisible steps up her collarbone to her face. – Then be a good girl and never, ever, take liberties. I command you, you breath for me when I tell you to, you bleed if I wish it, you will spread yourself if I so desire it and if you don’t comply, I will make sure you regret it. Have I made myself clear?

With one single nod the stern look that had painted her lips vanished, mouth smirking, letting your eyes catch a glimpse of her white fangs that shone under the silver moonlight, her fingers caressing your cheeks, nails leaving red, angry trails over your skin. Part of Avis wanted to pepper kisses over your unblemished flesh, to memorise every inch of it until the only thing in her mind was you, but there was part that wanted to shred it to pieces, to unravel you like a ribbon and see the perverted creature that laid underneath because there was a feeling in her dead. Her cold heart that was telling her you were far less innocent that she had been led to believe. Not when you had flirted with that stupid girl and she could smell the kisses of a woman she knew very well on your cheeks, her perfume lingering lightly on your clothes. She hadn’t noticed at first, far too focused on enchanting you, but when she had caught a glimpse of that picture on your desk, and your perfume gave away to hints of Lilia’s her need to claim you, to ruin you and steal you grew even stronger, it wasn’t a simple want anymore, it was a need that made her bones ache and there was only one way to sooth it.

-May… May I touch, mother?

-Such a well-behaved child. You may touch me. Please mother.

Her wish was your command. Her body straightened even if her foot didn’t leave your chest, a dull pressure over your breasts from where the heel was digging slightly but it didn’t bother you. Gentle fingers began to caress the silk of her stockings around the arch of her foot, the polished black shoe cold against your skin when your hand brushed it slowly, your palms around Avis’s ankle. Her calves were muscular but still held a softness that made your heart ache, your body bending without you even realising it, your lips ghosting over her shins, small freckles visible under the silk, your eyes pleading with Avis’s oak ones, asking for permission. Her hand on your hair was all the affirmation you needed, kissing her body slowly, perhaps too slowly for her liking but she wanted to know how far you could get before she had to take charge of the situation. One single drop of control on your lips was all she was willing to give you.

Every touch was so soft, so caring that Avis wondered if you actually could ever match her temper or if you were so weak that she would be able to do as she pleased with you over and over and you would never complain, always taking everything she was willing to give you, always swallowing your pride and letting her use you like a sex toy for her own amusement and release. The idea wasn’t unappealing at all, she thought, as your kisses trailed higher, towards her knee, your hands massaging her thighs, fingering the lace at the top of her stockings, toying with the garter that connected with the corselette. Your heart hammered so fast against your ribs as your hands trailed higher and higher that you feared you might have a heart attack, perhaps slightly in fear of what she would do if you overstepped, but you kept going. It was surprising just how soft the lace was, perhaps it had been handmade, you could not be sure, and knowing just how rich Avis was, you wouldn’t put it past her. Even the rug you were kneeling on was as expensive as your whole apartment.

In your current position with her foot on your chest you could not quite give her the treatment she deserved, so without asking you lifted it and placed it on your shoulder, an action that made Avis’s brows lift in surprise, lips turning into a smirk. One mistake, well, well, well, how many could you accumulate before the consequences turned severe? How many before Avis had you on all fours on the ground with your hands tied to the bedpost? You were just giving it to her on a silver platter. Her breathes became a tad bit faster when your fingers pulled the lace down a little, giving your lips a bigger surface to kiss as you pecked above her knee all the way to midthigh, turning your head enough that the first real contact with her skin was the softest flesh you had ever felt in your life, her olive-kissed skin perfectly covered in the smallest freckles you had ever seen cold under your lips but you could not find it in you to care. You were kissing Avis Amberg’s inner thighs, and she was letting you, her fingers rubbing on your scalp as she closed her eyes, thriving on these sensations that she hadn’t felt in so long. Her boys were good for one thing, but they lacked tenderness, her girls were far too innocent to actually know what to do without guidance. You were a most wonderful surprise, one that was perhaps too curious for her own good as your hands moved under her skirt, touching her hip and lifting the fabric enough for your eyes to see beneath velvet and silk.

Oh, fuck! This glamorous woman that spent every day surrounded by people, mainly young boys who thought they could get in her bed to aim higher in the industry, this woman that had had three meetings with producers today, who had gone down to check on a couple of films while surrounded by pretty young girls and muscular boys, had been wearing absolutely nothing under her skirt. Not. A. Single. Thing. You could see her perfect pink folds, glistening with arousal under the moonlight, a most perfectly trimmed patch of ginger hair over her pubic bone, the smell of her engraved inside your lungs as your kisses got closer and closer to her, almost as if you were being called but this wasn’t how she had planned the night. Three mistakes she counted so far, it was about time she started with the punishment. The sudden pain that enfolded your head made you yelp, confused for a moment about what was going on until your brain registered that Avis had forcefully pulled you away from her, your head pushed back slightly so she could look at you as the sting of hair being pulled from your scalp expanded. Her eyes were mixed with lust and fury, perhaps there was a hint of amusement behind them, but you did not see that, you could only focus on the pain and the danger that seeped from her skin onto yours like rainwater.

-You have one single fucking rule to follow, and you can’t even do that. You are a failure, a slut, so eager to get what isn’t yours. Don’t even fucking think of arguing with me, doll, you don’t want to make it worse.

One moment she was acting all kind and tender and the next she was practically telling you that she was going to make you regret your existence. Your hands had dropped from her leg as quickly as if you had been burnt by her freezing skin, allowing Avis to drop her foot on the floor, velvet hidden her away from your greedy eyes, but no matter what she did you had the image of her, already wet, engraved in your mind, her smell leaving phantom touches on your tongue. You were in the perfect position for her to step over your head and let your mouth do its job, but she desired to have you trembling and begging, crying, and she wasn’t going to go easy on you. With your body perfectly still at her feet she had the chance to rip the front of your dress with her other hand, nails scratching your skin as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room, your creamy flesh glowing in the soft beams of platinum that broke through the windows, mirrors and vases reflecting the light like melted snow. You were so utterly perfect, not a single spot on your young body, only the redness that her hand had caused, tender breasts nearly spilling from a rich yellow brassiere that cupped them in small lemon flowers, the thin material of your gown hanging loosely from your shoulder as Avis exposed you to her, a hunger you had never seen in your life shadowing her features.

Well, well, well, you sure were hiding jewels under those proper clothes you always wore. All those flowy dresses patterned with flowers and bows that never went past your knees and were buttoned up to your collarbone had been hiding your exquisite body from her and she wasn’t going to forgive that easily. If you had assets, you should be able to show them off, dress for your body type and not let the clothes simply be worn. Perhaps she would teach you a thing or two if you took her punishments well, it would be heartbreaking to have to kill you when you were so delicious and she truly had no desire to take you away from Lilia like that, but it all came down to you and your performance. Fingers traced the shape of your collarbone, brushing the top of her nail down your sternum and over your breasts, fingering the top of the brassiere, her eyes narrowing when she felt that so well-known tingling that was Lilia’s essence. That woman was truly all around you, dressing you and hugging you even when she couldn’t be with you, and it made Avis’s blood boil. She hadn’t had the balls to fuck you and make you hers and yet she went around pulling shit like this, thinking that pretty underwear and her perfume on your clothes made some sort of claim over you? You would forget all about that witch by the time Avis was done with you.

Your ass was resting on the balls of your feet, heart hammering inside your chest at just a pace that it nearly made Avis dizzy, but she pushed through, in fact she pulled your body upwards by your hair, drawing out a wince from in between your rosy lips so your entire weight rested on your knees. Your thick thighs jiggled slightly at her actions, nipples brushing against yellow lace when your body jerked upwards, faces perhaps a foot away. Like that linen slipped down your arms and pooled over your calves leaving you just in your matching underwear that Avis caressed with her fingertips, following the shape of the hoops under your tits and the waistband of your knickers. If she was aware of the pain she was inflicting on your head she did not care, tears threatening to fall from the outer corners of your eyes but you still held her gaze, pupils so dilated that you could not see any of the deep oak that had enchanted you in the first place, only last and hints of fury that furrowed her brow and thinned her plump lips tightly, almost as if you had wronged her in ways that you couldn’t even comprehend.

-Such a whore. Did you wake up and decide to wear such filthy things? Were you expecting to be fucked by that bitch you were talking to in the canteen? Were you hoping your girlfriend would take pity on you and finally make a move? - Your head was spinning. You knew what she was saying, you knew who she was talking about and yet it was as if your brain could not filter anything she was saying, just the consequences of it all. The lace between your legs was ruined, soaked and sticking to you in the most uncomfortable way possible. – Or were you wearing this for me?

It was but a whisper in your ear, but it raised goosebumps all over your skin, shivers running down your spine like electric shocks. Not one step could be given without her consent, not a single breath could be taken if she didn’t want it and yet every single thing in your life seemed to have been created, every choice made, to drive her into a rage storm, a life that she had had no power over, until tonight. Your eyes looked at her slightly scared, a feeling that Avis thrived in, glistening with tears that threatened to fall at any moment, your lips agape practically gasping for air, rosy lips that she believed were far too lonely.  Kisses were peppered over your skin, from right under your ear, over your jawline to your cheek, inching closer and closer to your lips, feather light touches caressing the corners of your mouth until finally her carmine wasn’t a simple taste around a cigarette. They were softer than anything you had ever felt before, a whimper of relief echoing inside your chest, as if you had been waiting for this moment all your life, to feel her kissing you, her hand cradling your chin and pushing your head back to deepen it. Scotch and tobacco mixed on your tongue when you felt her prying your mouth open, giving in without a fight, letting her dominate you, the tip of your timid tongue daring to trace her teeth slowly.

Feeling you moaning quietly into the kiss as you caressed the shape of her fangs sent a wave of arousal down to her core, surprise and delight melting into Avis’s movements at your actions. Most people would never dare to touch her like that, let alone find her nature appealing or exciting, not the way Lilia had, but perhaps she would have to thank her. It was obvious she had had some sort of influence on your views of supernatural beings, and she intended to exploit that fact for all eternity. It was so easy to move her hand from your chin to your throat, forcing you to stand without breaking the kiss, your oxygen supply restricted when you felt her fingers wrapping around your neck with far more force than was necessary. She wasn’t choking you fully, simply toying with you, using your human weaknesses to her advantage, feeling your rushed pulse against the pads of her fingers, knowing that very very soon all that sweet, pure blood would be spilling inside her mouth, sliding down her throat and around her lips in a macabre spectacle that would mix in the most sinful way possible as she seduced you, an erotic dance of sex and death. Your hands shot out to grab her arm out of instinct, but you made no attempt to remove it or fight it, drowning in her kiss still as she moved along with you around the bed, your feet slipping out of your shoes, padding barefoot over the carpet. Your body was practically naked, temperature spiking to insane peaks of fire that were so far away from Avis’s freezing skin, a delicious flesh that was still hidden by her expensive clothes.  It wasn’t fair, really, but would she allow it if you asked?

-Mother, please. – breaking the kiss felt like the most horrid thing in the universe, as if you were ripping your heart in half with your own bare hands, carmine smeared all over your mouth, lips swollen and wet. It did not go unnoticed the way Avis’s body pressed against you in need.

-Oh, you want to say something? – the grasp on your throat loosened slightly, air filling your lungs fully after a few minutes, your head nodding at her words like the good girl you were. -Go ahead. Tell mama what’s in that pretty head of yours.

-Can I… can I undress you? I want to see mama’s beautiful underwear.

-Such a polite little slut. How much do you want to undress me?

-I want nothing more than to take off the clothes you’d let me and see your beautiful body mama.

-Mhm… How can I refuse when you are begging so deliciously? Undress me.

Christmas had arrived and Avis had been left under the tree for you to unwrap, and of course you weren’t going to make her wait. With the kindness of her cold dead heart, she removed her hand from your throat but not before scratching the soft skin with her perfectly manicured nails, her other hand releasing your hair and smudging the lipstick that had transferred onto your lips even further with her thumb. Watching her bring that same finger to her mouth to lick it made your thighs clench together, the lace of your knickers providing a small bit of friction, but it wasn’t enough. Four out of six buttons had been undone by Avis’s skilled fingers minutes before, a gorgeous black corselette cinching her body to the perfect measurements, though you were positive that the moment it slipped from her frame, landing on the floor, your heart would instantly stop until her mouth revived you with its rough and demanding kisses. Your hands were trembling slightly as they made their way the front of her blouse, feeling the soft red velvet on your palms, the boning of her underwear firm under her clothes, deep breaths making her chest rise and fall, but they couldn’t match the speed at which your lungs ingested air, as if the world was about to run out. Shaking, your thumb rubbed small circles on her waist as you took the opportunity to pull her a bit closer, a motion and request that she answered by actually stepping inside your personal space without so much as a raised eyebrow.

Had she been Lilia you would have taken hours to undress her, kissing every inch of exposed skin over and over, but Avis held an air of impatience that you didn’t want to tease, because you already knew that she wasn’t going to be kind or soft with you, and you had no desire to make everything worse. Inching closer to the buttons, tracing the shape of the black embroidered roses that seemed to bleed from their petals tears of darkness that felt freezing under your skin, souls that she had threaded into her clothes as a reminder that one by one they had given their existence to her. Unhooking them was easy, probably the easiest thing you had done all night, and the moment the blouse was pushed back, hanging from her shoulders you saw that the corselette wasn’t only black. Deep red blooming roses cupped her breasts, so dark that you almost didn’t see the thin thread until moonlight shone over her body, white soft poison ivies hugging her waist from the sides like dead skeletal hands that held her and lifted her. Your hands itched to feel each single pattern firmly under your hands, but you fought it and instead brushed your fingertips over the top of her breasts and collarbones until you could grab the neckline of the blouse. Surprisingly it slid down her arms without effort, revealing sun-kissed skin peppered in freckles and knowing that she would be upset by it but without being able to help yourself you pulled her closer until your lips could kiss the soft flesh of her shoulders, following the journey of her unmoving veins down her arms.

Every alarm and sense of danger had been completely turned off in your head, every bit of your attention focusing solely on her body, on pleasing her no matter what. Crouching down to kiss her hands you ended up on your knees once again but this time out of your own accord, holding Avis’s hips firmly as you looked for the zipper, that just happened to be perhaps an inch to the right on her left hip, the sound of her skirt coming undone matching the hurried breaths that you could not quite get a hold of. Waterfalls of rubies flowed around her pelvis and down her legs, pooling at her feet and over your knees, her body nearly bare before your eyes. Your throat was dry and raspy, a deep burn vibrating in your chest at the sight of her in just her stockings and corselette, no knickers to hide her, your mouth water at the thought of burying your head between her thighs all night long, and lost in that lustful daydream you barely noticed the way your hands kneaded her ass, enthralled. So many mistakes Avis thought, so many liberties that she had let you have, but not anymore. You touched and kissed what wasn’t yours to claim and did it without remorse; well, not anymore. She had kept her own needs under control for far too long and she was not going to do it anymore.

In a blur of motions and limbs your body was pushed back onto the carpet, right in front a big golden mirror that reflected part of the bed and a couple of open windows along with trinkets and vases that you only got a glimpse of for less than a second before Avis was on top of you, straddling your hips. The pain on your scalp returned without mercy, pulling your head back so far back you feared your neck would snap but she knew very well what she was doing and there was no need for that, you were far more interesting and exciting alive, trapped under her spell. Traces of carmine were left down your neck, but they were no match to the bruises that her lips were painting your flesh, sucking deep and hard until pale flesh turned purple and blue, making you wince as your hands dug onto the carpet. It would be so easy to stab her fangs on your pulse point but where would the fun be in that if you weren’t begging and whining to be fucked over and over? She did scrape her teeth over it feeling the thing layer that kept your blood inside you yet, a moan nearly escaping her lips while thumb and index finger traced the hem of your bra, sensing Lilia’s magic deep in the fabric, but you weren’t with her now and she did not want a single sign of that witch in her home. Ripping fabric reached your ears, a gentle chill brushing your breasts as they spilled from the torn brassiere, a mix between a gasp and yelp reverberating out of your mouth, and as a new part of you had just been exposed for Avis to feast on, she wasted no time before her head was buried in the valley between your breasts.

She wasn’t going to drink from you yet but that did not mean she could not leave marks all around you for that girlfriend of yours to find, biting down softly over your sternum before sucking the soft and plump skin of each breast. In her effort to taste every single inch of your sweet flesh, your body pure, your essence like honey maybe even perhaps like the juiciest strawberries money could buy, leaving that acidic and sweet flavour on her tongue with each lick of your plump tits, she accidentally bit down harder than she had anticipated. The sharp pain made you yelp loudly, hands shooting to grab her by the shoulders as your brain slowly registered what had happened. Drop after drop of blood slid down your skin from a bite mark on the side of your right breast, the deep crimson liquid contrasting with your creamy flesh. Avis’s instincts  took hold of her senses, and licked it from your chest.

God, she had never had something as delectable as you, as delicious and untouched as you, sweetened mixing with its metallic taste only to be assaulted by that tingling she knew so well, those sparks of Lilia’s magic that had seeped deep under your skin and into your bloodstream. You had to be kidding. A single drop of blood was sliding down her chin as she pulled back, your eyes watching how she seemed to frantically be searching for something, hands all over your body, nipples aching to be touched but the last vanished into rage when she saw a small rune engraved on the side of your hip, nearly invisible to the naked eye, clearly meant only for Lilia’s eyes to see. She just had to be everywhere! Claiming things that weren’t hers to keep, fucking Avis and pushing her away after everything that she had achieved?! And now she had to taste her on you and see her fucking magic on you?! With brutal force she yanked you from the floor and onto your knees before she pushed you on all fours, ripping the shredded bra from your body, turning your head forcefully to look at her.

-Don’t move a fucking inch, if you do I’ll suck you dry and send you back to your fucking girlfriend all shrivelled up and dead, understood? – you were too stunned and turned on to do anything else but nod, limbs shaking slightly but it was as if all the fear you had been feeling had vanished, perhaps locked away somewhere deep in your mind that would prevent sanity from actually making you think. She had properly lured you in with no chance of running away.

You saw yourself in the mirror, watching as Avis stepped out of frame and began rifling through drawers, pushing pieces of clothes aside in search for something. What was it? No clue. There was a thin trail of droplets that had stained your breast and that were slowly falling one by one on her very expensive carpet, a fact that had your heart on the verge of escaping your chest and yet you didn’t move, almost didn’t even breath. The ruffling of fabrics and grunts of desperation and frustration were so loud that if your blood hadn’t been rushing through your veins at the speed of light everything would have been overshadowed by her and her little but too damn enticing sounds. A golden watch caught your eye, right above a marble chimney, the handles ticking incessantly, showing you that time was not standing still keeping you trapped in some distorted bubble with her, the hours were passing by with no possibility of going home. If Avis’s fury let you go home.

After a couple more minutes of ruffling fabrics every noise stopped. One step in your direction. Then another, heels muffled by the carpet. A third one and a soft glow of silver moonlight met the edge of the mirror, your breath held in your lungs in anticipation, and then you saw her. She had not removed any clothes, much to your dismay, but her lipstick was smudged, and a few curls had fallen from her perfect updo, framing her angelic face even though she was a wolf dressed in sheep’s skin. Such a vicious, lustful creature that you couldn’t get enough of. But it was any of those assets that made your eyes widen as your lips stood agape, it was the deep red cock that had been strapped around her hips, a thick dick of perhaps seven inches that made your pussy clench in worry and need. With one last step she was standing behind you, black heels on her feet that she almost placed on your back to keep you right where you belonged, legs dressed in nude silk and slightly spread with that thick cock standing proudly in between them, your eyes catching a glimpse of her nearly dripping folds, breasts nearly spilling from that gorgeous contraption that was her corselette, nipples almost peaking, but it was her mouth, that fucking wonderful mouth of hers, that made it all come together. A smirk on swollen and blood tainted lips that made her an erotic goddess that you would give your soul to. 

-Turn around and face me. – you didn’t miss a second, crawling to meet her at her feet, the material of the rug nearly burning the skin on your palms and knees. – I’m sure that pretty mouth of yours has had far more in it than Lilia’s cunt, sucking cocks to get this job, so show mama what you can do with that tongue. Suck mama’s cock, get it all wet.

Avis could see the shame in your face, how your cheeks had turned three different shades of red that under the moonlight seemed like a deep pink, but that was just it, she knew you hadn’t done it, she could taste only Lilia in your blood, no man’s devious intents rotting you from the inside out, which made her even more curious as to what you were able to do out of pure talent. So far you had proven to be far more entertaining than many of the virgins she had had, God, maybe even half of the men, and she had an inkling that your tongue was about to be magical without Lilia’s interference. Like a good girl you sat on your knees and while still holding her gaze your hands wrapped around her cock, feeling the rubber on your palms and fingers, testing the material and girth before your body bent forward. From the base to the tip your tongue made one long but slow swipe, hands holding it firmly so it wouldn’t flop on your face or pull on Avis’s hips. It was pure instinct what you were doing, praying that it was to her approval as you twirled your tongue around the tip before taking a leap of faith and taking part of the cock in your mouth, breathing deeply as you bobbed your head up and down gently. She’d let you get acquainted with it for a short while, watch how you worked it well, how your cheeks hollowed so you could suck her the way only a good girl could, but not for long. Meticulously you seemed able to take a bit more of Avis’s cock each time you pull back and then took her again, your breaths ragged and fast through your nose, tongue moving arrhythmically around it, thin trails of drool nearly making it past your lips but you fought to keep this as clean as possible thinking that was what she wanted, another mistake to the ever growing list.

Grunts and gasps were vibrating from your throat without you realising it, oak eyes locked onto yours as you gave her the first, and hopefully best, blowjob of her life, hands shooting to grab her by her hips when you felt her fingers hold onto your hair again, ground your body for the assault that was coming. She gave one gentle thrust that sent the cock deep inside your mouth, your gag reflex making your eyes water but you kept going, taking her, sucking her as if she could actually feel what you were doing, and perhaps she could, because her breaths were as inconsistent as yours, moans echoing against the walls in between pants, her big thick cock fucking your mouth faster and faster. Tears spilt down your cheeks as you tried to breath, drool falling down your chin with each hard thrust, those sinful sounds of you gagging on her cock almost sending Avis over the edge, but she held back. You just looked so pretty with your mascara running down your face, ruined lipstick and her cock inside your mouth, though she was positive you would look so much better with it buried deep inside your pussy. Without warning she pulled out completely, your lungs greedily gulping for air, phantom thrusts still making you gag lightly but unlike Lilia, Avis did not care to let you recuperate, though she was quite pleased with the show you had put on for her.

-On your knees facing the mirror.

The ruffling of bed covers reached your ears as you moved, your trembling and need for air making your motions slower than you had wanted but Avis didn’t seem to notice as you were already facing the mirror by the time she threw a pillow on the floor behind you. If she had let herself fall on her knees and taken you without mercy you would have expected it, almost been prepared for it, but of course Avis was always one step ahead, throwing you of your balance while she remained perfectly still on her toes, never letting you know what her next step would be. She spread her legs wider, stelling her body above your, hips aligning vertically, leaning until her breasts were barely inches from your bare back, cold hands tracing the shape of your spine, caressing your sides until her fingers wrapped around your tits. If you kept biting down on your lower lip you were sure you’d draw blood, not that she would mind as you watched her standing again with a droplet of crimson, hot liquid, on her thumb, her cold and yet burning tongue licking it with closed eyes. Simply delicious. Raking her perfectly manicured nails all down your back Avis slowly stepped until her hands were resting comfortably on your ass, lowering her body gently onto the pillow all while your perfect skin shone with reddish marks, hands sliding over to your hips. A sharp gasp tumbled out of your mouth as you felt her cock pressed against your butt cheeks, cold and wet, lubricated by your own mouth, a fact that made you shiver and so desperately soaked between your legs that you nearly begged her to remove your knickers.

All is good to those who wait, Avis thought, the words reverberating in her mind finally letting a full smirk paint her lips, dark shadows cast over her features showing you the side of her that she kept hidden every single day, eyes flashing a deep red before her control vanished completely. The sound of ripping fabric reached your ears for an instant before you felt the tip of her cock aligned with your entrance, folds so wet that Avis almost thought she could have skipped you sucking her, but you had just looked so pretty with your mouth so busy. One singular thrust and she was five inches deep inside you without warning and without giving you time to adjust, the stretch stinging lightly and making you moan and whine in discomfort at the intrusion, a sound that Avis wanted to change into cries of pleasure and pleads of more, your arms nearly giving out under your weight. Very slowly she pulled out, surprised that you had taken her so well and so easily, before she plunged back inside you hard, filling you nearly completely and drawing out a sharp cry out of your throat. Never before had you been so full, so stretched, sensations nearly overwhelming you, but you had to push through, you had to please her, after all you were hers. Wasn’t that what she had wanted all this time? To have you? As seconds ticked by the discomfort slowly vanished, her cock pulling out nearly all the way once again only to slam her hips fully against your ass, all seven inches inside you hitting so deep that all you could do for an instant was close your eyes and let your mouth hang open, your vocal cords unable to make a sound. God, you were taking her so well, letting her fuck you better than anyone ever had.

-Open your eyes. Watch as mama fucks your pretty virgin pussy.

It was a herculean effort, but you did as told, eyelids fluttering open to see one of those fiery curls of hers bouncing as she pulled out and slammed again, picking up a slow but steady rhythm. There was nothing else in your mind but pleasure, the sight of her body slamming against yours driving you insane with lust and desire, nothing of this sort having ever clouded your mind and judgment, your frame jerking forward with each powerful thrust. Hands bruised your hips, finger digging with brutal force that matched the way in which her pelvis crashed against yours, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing against the open windows and dressed up walls of the grandiose room. Every pant, every strangled cry and moan that fell from your lips floated like invisible smoke around the two of you, the warm night breeze snatching them and taking them out into the dark world outside her house, not a single noise either of you were making staying within those four walls. You could almost imagine Avis’s moans caressing the rose petals in her garden the same way her fingers were now tracing the shape of your spine, but there would have been a delicate tone to her touches if you had been a flower, tender kisses around your pure white petals, something that she was denying you now. Nails felt sharp against your skin, and you were sure that as she went up to your neck the thin flesh of your back had been ripped and was now bleeding bright beads of sweet blood and of course who was Avis to deny herself the pleasure of having a taste? Tis was but a starter, a spoonful of caviar that her refined palate would taste before the main course.

Her previous pace, slow, perhaps even tender in its strength, had you already shaken, trembling slightly with each thrust that stretched your walls and sent a sharp but delicious wave of pleasure all throughout your body, a feeling that you had craved for so long and that now Avis had been kind enough to give to you. If she were the Devil perhaps you had been praying to the wrong God. How could you not believe that this was exactly what you needed, fate granting you the wish your mind had never truly had the courage to think about, when the only woman you had considered unreachable and that plagued your dreams and nightmares alike was now buried deep within you. Lilia was always so warm and caring, her kisses and caresses tender and loving but Avis was the opposite. She was demanding and controlling of every aspect of this encounter, but she did not lack passion or desire, things that you had longed to see in your girlfriend and that now your boss was giving you without you even asking. But it was her freezing touch and fake gentleness that was fuelling your desire with each passing second. Sharp icy blades were dancing on your skin, drawing out goosebumps the same way that each thrust was drawing out moans, the once slow pace that let you adjust to her girth and length now nearly punishing, making your hips ache as well as your pussy but you could not bring yourself to tell her to stop, not when she was making you feel like this, not when she looked so enticing on that mirror.

Pins fell from her perfect updo, bouncing off her bare shoulders and landing around her knees, under the pillow, fiery locks cascading down her back like a rain of rubies that your eyes could not stray from, her red lips slightly agape in complete surrender. With trembling limbs, you watched as she leaned forward, the soft fabric of her corselette brushing your bare back as her lips pecked the scratches she had caused, the tiniest droplets of blood staining them that got smeared all over your skin as she kissed her way up your back. It stung, the pain radiating lightly around your ribs but it wasn’t as if your brain could comprehend what you were feeling when her rhythm had become steady and fast, flesh slapping, the wound of your wet pussy as it was fucked by Avis’s cock filtering through the curtains out into the night, one hand keeping an iron grip on your hip while the other slid around your pelvis towards your front, heart speeding inside your chest as she inched closer and closer to where you ached the most. You could not prevent curse words from sliding past your mouth when the pads of her fingers twirled your engorged clit softly, hips buckling until your ass was matching her thrusts, grunts and moans reverberating form Avis’s chest that were muffled by your back. Unbeknownst to you the straps were brushing on her clit, making her bite down hard enough on your shoulder blades that she felt the rush of hot metallic blood on her tongue as you yelped in pain.

The overwhelming taste of you threw every ounce of delicacy that she had in her system out the window, her hips slamming brutally against yours, her cock so deep inside you that you could almost not take it, but her fingers rubbing fast on your clit helped you swallow it completely, from tip to base until you could feel the rubber balls of the strap hitting your bare ass. Moans were no longer moans, they were grunts and pants mixed with screams that were being ripped from your chest, leaving your throat raw and hoarse, thoughts gone, every synapse in your body chasing that high that was coiling fast and hot in your core. You fought with the urge to let your eyes roll to the back of your head as the thrusts became nearly impossible to count, Avis’s true nature taking a hold of every part of her being, clouding your mind with such raw pleasure and desire that you could not comprehend nor control. Your orgasm was clawing at your core so fast that your entire body had begun to shake, your arms giving way and leaving your face resting over the carpet as high pitched screams filled Avis’s head. Such deliciously filthy sounds that vibrated inside her brain, your walls clenching desperately around her cock making it slightly harder for her to pound into you, but she still did, your juices coating her fingers and dripping down your thighs telling her you were inches from falling down the abyss, but you didn’t deserve that. You would wait until she was willing to give you the release you so desired, making you crave her every minute of your life, even when you were with Lilia. No, especially when you were with her.

She was done waiting. Done playing nice. The hand that had been on your hip shot to grab you by the hair, yanking your body upwards and away from the floor until your injured back was firmly pressed against her chest. The new angle made you see stars, a sound you had never made before just escaping your throat before you could stop it, her cock having hit a spot inside you that you had your entire body on fire, moaning and whimpering for more like a slut, Avis’s slut. “Open your eyes” she grunted in your ear, voice husky and raw. You hadn’t even noticed that your eyes had rolled to the back of your head, but you did as you were told, watching in the reflection of that golden mirror the way a thin trail of blood had run down your abdomen from your breast, face flushed and sweaty as your hands shot to hold onto her thighs to steady your trembling body.  Her pounding never ceased or slowed but now you were able to ride her better, rising and falling on her cock as fast as you could though it would never match Avis’s movements. Fuck, you looked so pretty with your pink folds wide open as you rode her, swallowing her completely, maybe more than before even, you could not tell and did not care. If she had known you looked like this while being fucked, she would have done this way sooner because she just couldn’t get enough of your ruined make up and swollen lips, mesmerised for a few instants by your bouncing breasts but there was a more enticing spot for her. Blood rushed and pumped inside your veins, the spot of your pulse point just so perfect, creamy and smooth and welcoming her with each beat of your heart.

Her tongue traced the shape of your artery from the base of your neck all the way to the underside of your jaw. Finally, the moment she had been waiting for, that sweet craving she had had for weeks about to be satiated all while she fucked your pretty cunt. If your God could see you now, he would fall from grace and join his brother Lucifer in sinful rejoice, watching as Avis claimed your body and soul, because how could angels and demons alike not wish to see a creature of the night as powerful and cunning as Avis doing these unspeakable things to a pure soul like you? If Eve had been blamed for Adam’s wrongs every woman since then had the right to shun away from salvation, after all there was no fun in being good forever, not when the other option was what Avis was doing to you. Victory red carmine stained your jugular, lips sucking hard until you could feel the familiar sting of a bruise forming and it was then and only then, with thin and sensitive skin that your eyes locked with her in the mirror. You had seen them, had felt them and yet when she opened her mouth and your eyes got a glimpse of pearly white fangs, your rational mind peaking through her spell for an instant before she sank them onto your skin and artery a sharp agonising cry reverberating from your chest but it only lasted a second, perhaps less than a second, you could not be sure, before every ounce of pain turned into a deep pleasure that had your head swooning and body howling in need.

Sublime. Exquisite. Blissful. Every drop that filled her mouth was the most delightful she had ever had, not a trace of shame or sin, only that sweet flavour of white truffles that coursed through your veins, delectable just like those gourmet dishes she had had when she had visited Italy only they were only now mind-blowing as she gulped your essence down, hot, dizzying blood caressing her throat all while she still slammed her cock deep into your cunt.  She had spent a lifetime waiting for someone like you, desperate to smell you, to taste you and make you hers for all eternity, to drain you from every single drop of blood she could until your body was pale and cold against her dead hands, but she could not bring herself to part with such an enchanting young thing as you and condemn you to an endless life roaming the earth in her shadow. She would much rather have you pressed against her chest with her hand pulling on your hair, watching you in the mirror as trails of bright crimson stained your perfect skin, mixing with the tears that you could no longer keep from falling. Never before had your body been on the edge of crumbling, pain and passion interlacing so deeply that you could no longer pull them apart without ripping the other to shreds, every cell in your body, every synapsis of your mind running down a road you had never thought you would set foot in, the chances of turning back gone, not that you would have wanted to. As life slipped away from your grasp Avis’s veins filled with power, a once frozen heart pumping as her lips curled around your neck even though your blood overflowed her mouth and spilled all over her neck and chest in a greedy need to take as much as possible.

Merely seconds had passed before she tasted her on you. It was unmistakeable, that sharp citrusy essence that she had had on her tongue and in her bed for decades and that her heart both missed and despised more than anything else in her existence. It made her furious, her movements inside you past brutal, now wounding and so harsh that you could do nothing else but scream, your core waiting for one tiny spark to happen before exploding and taking you to another dimension, and yet Avis could not hate Lilia as much as she wanted to. Her hands were almost gentle all of a sudden, as if they belonged to a different person after the scratches and bruises, melancholy dressing her invisible injuries and scars, the ones Lilia had inadvertently inflicted the day she left. Memories threatened to overwhelm her head, the once steady rhythm now faltering slightly, and perhaps if she been more human than creature of the night she would have allowed them to wash over her and ruin the moment, but there was very little of that woman left, maybe nothing at all, and the anger and desire were far stronger than anything else. Avis had wanted you before she had known Lilia was involved with you, and she would have you regardless of the fact that she knew now because she was not going to change her plans for her, not anymore. Digging her fangs deeper, ripping your skin, a pathetic mewl fell past your lips, and she began to think that perhaps you were getting everything you had ever dreamt of while Avis stood behind you with a shitty consolation prize, unsatisfied in ways that she was sure you would excel in. And she couldn’t have that.

Every single drop that escaped your veins brought on waves of dizziness that you could not control, cheeks flushed a weak pink as the tips of your fingers and toes became cold with each passing second, terror finally making its way through the cracks. And even then, when you could feel death through Avis’s touch, in every brush of her fingers over your hip and clit, as her nails scraped your scalp and the base of your neck, with each breathtaking movement of her lips, you could not deny her or push her away. Death had never been a pleasant thought but there was something poetic about you slipping away while Avis gave you life, warm breezes that carried faint traces of the ocean kissing your bare body, every wound stinging but it could never compare. There would never be pain that could match what her fangs were doing to you, what her nature had inflicted upon you without permission, without a care. Movements became lethargic, hands clammy on Avis’s thighs, details that no one else would actually pay attention to but of course she did, she felt everything that you were going through as if your thoughts were written in your blood, knowing that you needed her to stop before things went too far. But you were so delicious, and she could feel that you were standing on your tip toes at the edge of the cliff begging in mumbled words for release, letting you go now would leave Avis hungry for far more than just your heart and flesh and she wasn’t feeling as kind now that truffles became oranges on her tongue. The scream that was ripped out of your throat when she let go of your neck, skin battered, broken and bruised, echoed in the night like a banshee that brought omens of darkness and death, a calling for every errant soul that crawled over the dirt of her pristine garden.

-God, you are just delectable. I could drink from you forever, keep you riding my cock as I take what I want. Is that what you want? – you could barely form a thought let alone an answer, blood sliding down your chest and over your breasts, droplets falling in slow motion from your nipples onto the carpet even though your whole body still moved at a punishing pace jerking up and down. Your silence wasn’t welcome. Avis’s hands shot to grab you by the waist keeping you seethed deeply on her cock unable to move, pathetic whines mixed with half sobs breaking from your chest. – I thought I had made myself very fucking clear. I ask a question, you answer it.

-Ma… Mama… I’m sor… I’m sorry.

-An apology isn’t enough. Words mean nothing to me when you defy me and don’t answer what I asked! – fingers dug deep over the already forming bruises on your hips, her mouth so close to your ear that her cold breath brought on goosebumps all down your spine as the overwhelming stench of metal filled your lungs. – That beautiful neck of yours could snap so easily if I wanted to, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time I kill someone who doesn’t please me. I suppose you call yourself lucky that I haven’t sucked you dry when you are so fucking enticing. I see why Lilia was so eager to mark you.

-Mama…

-I’m talking! The disrespect is unbelievable. Is this how you treat your boss, the woman who can give you the most pleasure you could ever feel?

-I’m sorry! I do… I do want to be whatever you want! Please!

-Pathetic. You think that will persuade me to give in? – walls contracted around her, trembling limbs on fire at her words, the blood loss affecting your mind and yet it fast became a thing of the past. – Do you want to cum?

-Please! Please mama.

-Earn it then. Make mommy happy and then and only then will I allow it. Maybe.

The world around you swayed between a fog of denied passion and the blood loss suffered as her words sank in, locks of gold stained red when you managed to focus your eyes on the reflection in that huge mirror. You had her body moulded to yours practically and yet your shadow and her hair kept her face hidden from yours, every expression a mystery, even her frame was hidden by your naked body, only memories of how she looked rushing through your mind. There was no warning before she pulled out of you completely, the feeling of sudden emptiness making you cry out, body nearly collapsing on the floor with fire burning underneath your skin, your pussy aching to be filled by her again and to be granted the relief of sweet release she had promised in between the lines and silences that had echoed in the room as she had fucked you. If it hadn’t been for her arms wrapping around your waist your face would have collided with the floor, over the spots of crimson that painted an abstract masterpiece in between expensive threads of wool and silver, a work of art that Avis might decide to keep. Maybe she was growing soft for you already, but she was gentle enough to lift you off the ground and place you over the soft linen covers of her enormous bed, not caring if she had to throw them away or burn them tomorrow; it wasn’t as if she couldn’t buy as many sets as she wanted.  

It was more comfortable than the floor, of that you were sure, your knees red and angry from the rug digging onto your flesh, your walls clenching around nothing, missing the sensations that had enfolded your mind and body so rapidly, your breaths still coming in fast as what blood she had left pupped through your veins making your ears ring. You could still feel hot crimson liquid sliding from the punctures on your carotid down your shoulder, slow thin rivers of death that Avis eyed from her position standing by the bed. Moonlight vanished for an instant leaving the room in complete darkness, your senses confused and dizzy as you tried to keep your eyes on her figure but to no avail, if she had left you had no way of seeing it, if she had moved and was hovering over you your oversensitive body should have been able to feel it but there was nothing. She was simply standing there with her deep chocolate eyes fixed on your panting and bloody form as her skilled fingers removed the soaked strap, it falling over the carpet with a muffled thump that made you jump slightly over the covers. Panic was sure as hell now breaking free from her spell, probably caused by the blood loss you thought, forcing you to rest your weight on your elbows and raise your shaky body from her luxurious bed, bedsheets smelling of rich vanilla and amber, perhaps a hint something floral hidden in between her pillows, you couldn’t be sure.

Time ticked away, handles of pitch-black metal moving in an orb of glass and gold, determined to show that seconds were passing you by while for Avis they stood still, not having moved for decades, and no amount of diamonds or rubies or gold embedded watches would change that. Avis had been put to rest in a cherry blossom casket, curls the colour of royal sunset lilies spread over white velvet, her heart dead, cold, her blood still but never rotting, no warmth in her hands on in her lips, just the curse of eternal death masked as the lie of an eternal life, and laying in that casket she watched as the world around her turning all while knowing that she would be buried six feet under and no one would ever hear her pleas or cries, just the deafening silence of a voice that had left the day her humanity had been stripped of her. She sometimes missed that naïve woman she once had been, and cursed her existence from time to time, but she could not say that her life had turned out too bad, not when she had built it stone by stone and turned herself into who she was today, murders and such occurrences aside of course. A woman needs hobbies to entertain herself after all. One single wave of platinum bathed the room, ruined black lace and silk wrapped around Avis’s torso, vines that once had been a pearly white now tainted and stained the same way your skin was by splatters of your blood, a sea of fiery locks cascading down her back and shoulders as your eyes locked with hers before directly looking at her mouth. How was it that that deep but bright shade of crimson red seemed to suit her far better than her signature Victory red?

Her lips curved slightly at the corners in a sweet and dangerous smirk as her chin and neck were presented to you with long trails of blood that journeyed south towards her breast, hiding the damage caused by with her corselette. She was far too overdressed you thought, and it wasn’t fair when you were completely naked and bruised before her. She seemed to have read your mind. Perhaps under other circumstances she would have let you undress her but not tonight; she wished to be pleased as soon as possible, and she had no time to let your soft, trembling hands unhook her. She had an inkling that Lilia still liked it slow and you had been an avid learner, but she wasn’t Lilia, and her patience had gone out the window long ago. Her hands were surprisingly clean, not a peck of red anywhere except for her nail polish as they traced the shape of each rose with her ring and middle fingers, the ones that had been circling your clit not minutes before, your arousal still coating her skin. You were sure she would start popping buttons in a moment but of course, she did the opposite of what you wanted her to and instead slid her hands down over her abdomen and towards her thighs. Her right leg was raised and placed on top of the bed, actually her heel was resting on your abdomen giving you a beautiful view of the red mark her strap had left on her hips and thighs and of her dripping folds, your mouth watering at the thought that perhaps she might let you taste her after all. For some reason you no longer had the need to be fucked raw and dumb but to see her coming undone under your skilled hands and tongue.

It was mesmerising to see her fingering the edge of her stockings, the pads on each finger selectively sliding and lifting the fabric before letting go, the sharp sound of the elastic drawing out a hiss from Avis that had your mind reeling and hips begging to grind onto something. This fucking woman was the biggest tease you had ever met in your entire life, and you had been with Lilia during that hippie era of no touching but going around the house completely naked. One quick motion had her clip on the front undone, hands travelling to her back to release the other, the pressure of her heel on your stomach leaving the imprinting of her sole on your skin. She was quick to do the same with her other leg, but this time the tip of her stiletto was purposely brushing the underside of your breast, your palate tasting that bitter dark chocolate that you liked as her eyes locked with yours, unable to stray from her, not even when she lifted the elastic of her stockings and moaned at the feeling of it landing on her skin again. You feared that if her fangs didn’t kill you all this teasing would. You hadn’t even noticed the grip your hands had on the covers, knuckles turning white at the force you were using to keep your hands away from her since you hadn’t been granted permission to touch her. She stood before you again, hands brushing the sides of her body, glancing at the blood smeared by her shoes over your taunt stomach, until finally her fingers reached the top of her corselette, your breaths hurried as her skilled hands unhooked it gently, one by one. The sight of her breasts spilling through lace and silk had you writhing, mad with lust and need to pull her to you and do the same unspeakable things she had done to you. Or more, whatever your depraved mind could come up with really.

Crimson rivers had flooded the valley between her breasts and pooled on the top of each plump tit, craving to see if there could be a sea of red over her hidden skin, if your blood had carved itself over her flesh in the shape of tilting roses, maybe even caressing the soft freckles that covered her body with the imprint of phantom kisses. As soon as the last hook came undone, the garment being held together by the pressure of her hands, your lungs stopped their incessant movement of pants, air held deep in anticipation. Time and space were relative; they could exist or be intangible theories that held no meaning in either of your lives because you could have sworn that nothing existed the moment she let go and revealed herself to you. Perfection. Utter perfection. No other word in the English language could describe what your eyes had the honour of witnessing, they all sounded weak, perhaps insulting to the beauty before you. Angels were forbidden from looking at her should they feel jealous of such beauty, demons demanded to worship the air she breathed and the ground she walked upon, and yet no God, evil or good, could claim her as their own for she was her own deity now. You were her most faithful apostle now, not the first, but the one that was given the gift of survival and that could never compare to anyone else, her church built of the bones of those she had considered inferior. Her abdomen held a softness that made your fingers twitch in need, the small pouch above her pubic bone dressed in pearly stretch marks that made your mouth water, hints of her muscles visible through the tenderness of her body that you could not help but compare to a Venus.  

The skin of her chest was strained by the weight of her ample breasts, the wrinkles that had been caressing her figure now nearly gone as they had been red from her underwear and rested heavily above her abs, so full, so enticing. Her whole body reflected the silvery beams of moonlight as if she was made out of marble, every curve chiselled with the utmost reverence and patience, your eyes allowed to see, your hands allowed to touch. No more barriers separated you from her, a fact that pleased her as much as you as she climbed into bed, crawling like a feline over Egyptian linen that was already clinging to your perfume, her body slowly hovering over yours, straddling you. She had had the upper hand all night, commanding, dominating every single aspect of this encounter but for a moment you might get the chance to get a glimpse of her control, of that power she carried in her DNA, even if it cost you your own release. Because she wouldn’t actually kill you if you did this, would she? Looking at her now that her lips were following the line of your ear down to your collarbone licking off as much blood from you as she could you thought that perhaps it was a risk you were willing to take. A life of safety and innocence was a life wasted, all wrapped in cotton with nothing else to do but watch as everyone else did as they desired while you became nothing but ether, not even ink in someone’s diary.

And so took a leap of faith. Your hands shot to grab her by her forearms when her lips began to follow the shape of a vein down your neck and in between your breasts, your feet moving until the rested on the outside of her calves trapping her between your thighs and your ankles. The moment Avis felt your legs moving she lifted her head to look at you with an arched eyebrow and as you were feeling foolishly brave your lips curled into a smirk. A surprised yelp escaped her lips as you used a sudden burst of strength to turn the tables, or in this case your current positions. Avis’s body fell with a thud over the already stained covers, your figure now hovering over hers, all that gorgeous hair sprawled over white, framing her gorgeous face where your blood was slowly beginning to dry and crack. She was definitely surprised by this bold side of you, perhaps amused even though she shouldn’t be as thrilled, but it had been so long since someone had actually taken the lead in bed that wasn’t her that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be pleased not only because she demanded it. And God, were you good at this. She had to give you credit because she truly had mistaken you for nothing more than a naïve little twat who loved to turn people on and then act as if you had never done a thing and in fact you were perhaps more like Lilia than she had anticipated. You had definitely had a good teacher. You had her arms trapped above her head, held down firmly while your legs kept hers spread open unable to move, trapped under you but she had no desire to take control of the situation now, she wanted to know exactly what you had in mind. Your lips caressed her cheek, brushing the cold flesh before you moved over to her ear, biting down and drawing out a moan from within her throat, one that had been waiting all night to be released.

-You want pleasure mama? – her lungs stuttered when trying to take a breath, the heat in her core burning with a heat she had not felt in a long time. Avis nodded barely. – Then relax and let your girl do exactly that. I’ll make you feel so good mama.

Oh, she knew you would. The world shifted for her, switching her kisses and caresses to hands holding onto the bedsheets as your lips followed the line of her jaw, your rosy lips stained bright red as you reached her chin and instead of heading down to her breasts, something you very much wanted to do, you decided to head upwards. Her mouth was inches from your, eyes locked in a gaze that could make time stop in every universe and although you knew you would not taste tobacco anymore you could not let the opportunity of kissing her got to waste, not when she was letting you do whatever you wanted. Inches became a thing of the past when your lips met hers in a soft, gentle kiss, nothing like the one she had given you before, all full of lust and power. This one was simple, unaltered adoration that you wanted to make sure she felt with every the brush of your lips, with the tip of your tongue tracing her bottom one until she opened her mouth, granting you access, the overwhelming taste of blood with it’s metallic essence brutal for an instant but somehow there was something sweet to be found under all that iron and you had an inkling that it wasn’t you, just the gentle notes of honey that dripped from Avis whenever your body moved to press against her releasing a melody of moans from her chest. Sounds that never reached the air around you as you swallowed them deep.

You were unsure if her spell was still clawing at your skin and mind or if you had surrendered to her already but all the terror that had clung to your heart moments before was gone, and as your tongue traced the shape of her fangs, goosebumps and shivers alike running all over Avis’s body, you only felt curiosity. Avis Amberg was a vampire, that much was clear to every soul on this planet, but you weren’t scared, why? Was it perhaps the fact that she had had the chance to kill you many many times tonight and she hadn’t, regardless of the threats? Or was it perhaps that she had drunk from you and the moment she had felt you dizzy and clumsy from blood loss she had stopped herself? This woman could be cruel and dangerous, murderous if she desired it, and yet you felt as if she was giving you a treatment not many people had ever got before, maybe no one. You weren’t entirely wrong, but you weren’t fully right. She was giving you the same treatment she had given Lilia, even though part of her mind knew that you could slip through her fingers just as easily as the other woman had, although she hoped you wouldn’t do it too soon. There was a softer side to Avis, and she might build up the courage to show it if she thought you were worth all the hassle of trusting you and opening herself up to you. Emotionally, of course, she was already quite open for you in every other aspect and dripping onto her expensive linens.

A loud moan echoed inside your mouth when your nails dug slightly on the sensitive skin of her wrists when your lungs began to plead for air, much to your dismay, and so your parted from her, hints of her carmine left around her cupid bow. Your journey began then, setting sail from the port of her mouth, following the stream of her neck, freezing but calm waters welcoming your kisses and the crystal clear waves mixed with tainted red currents on your tongue, passing the hollow of her neck where you made sure to through a mark overboard and sucked around it until you could see faint purple bruises appearing. On the horizon you could see the top of two stunning hills, soft, ample and splashed with patches of deep red roses that had taken root on the pools of your blood, your boat named “The Traveller” sailing through the valley of her breasts with easy, feeling her sternum underneath each kiss before you went on a trek through each hill. There were no bird or wild animals on the roads but the sounds that reached your ears were like songs that you wish you could record and listen to every time you found yourself lonely in your boat, pants, gasps and moan when your hands, the hands of gardener, of a sculptor and a surgeon, kneaded her flesh and caressed the petals of each of her roses knowing that your hands would be stained with your own blood, not that you cared. It was simply delicious to taste the plump flesh at your disposal, sucking and licking like a starved beast that was feet away from a fountain of pure water to sooth your thirst, right at the top of the hill, where your lips latched on to her stiff nipples and drank in every yelp and scream that she made, watching in awe as her hands gripped the covers above her head while her eyes fluttered shut, waves of pleasure coursing through her body like the winds that preluded a storm.  

As much as you wanted to stay there forever, tasting her and toying with her breasts like this, pushing buttons that had Avis completely at your mercy it was clear you had to continue your journey before she changed her mind and released thunder and Hell on you and your little boat until you sank to the depths of the ocean, and so you returned to the valley but not before marking each breast with as many bruises as you could, violet contrasting with her tone in a most perfect pairing of colours. The waters you sailed on as kisses were placed tenderly on her stomach, the softness of her body simply breathtaking under your hands led you to beautiful but untold stories chiselled on her figure in the form of stretch marks, delivering gold and spices when your lips made sure to cares each and every one of them. She had them everywhere, around her upper arms, sculpted on the sides and underneath her breasts, around her lower abdomen and in perfect shapes that hugged her hips as well, marks that showed just how much she had lived and how her body had changed along with it. She might never get news ones or get rid of the ones she had, but there wasn’t a most beautiful thing to you than a body that showed just how much it had changed and adapted, how much it had gone through and how it had survived because it meant that Avis’s soul, cursed or not, had been there fighting through it all. Your tongue tasted thousands of memories interlaced with her DNA with each kiss you delivered, and even though they were silent words, you felt like the richest woman in the land, hands filled with gold and rubies as your palms held onto her hips.

Every sensation, every touch would fade into memories soon, your journey down her body soon reaching its destination, but it wasn’t something that made you feel sadness. No, you had conquered mountains and bathed in pools of sanctified water were her sounds echoed against marble walls and vines of rich red roses, you had kissed and tasted and had her in your arms but there was still time, still more to come before everything ended and you could not say that that wasn’t a thrilling journey of its own. “The Traveller” slowed its speed over gentle waters where the air smelled of saffron and salt, perfect ginger curls welcoming your lips with each kiss you left on her pubic bone, her arousal making them damp as your chin brushed against them. Her breath hitched in her lungs when your hands rested on the soft skin of her inner thighs, forcing her legs to spread even wider than before, your line of vision allowing you to feast on her dripping folds while also watching her face, slightly flushed, meeting your gaze in lustful waves that made you even wetter than you already were. Her skin was as delectable as you had always imagined, and her body as tender and responsive as you had expected her to be, squirming when your teeth nipped at the skin, the soothing heat of your tongue over the reddish marks nearly making her whimper in need, but she caught herself before it could slip out. She was giving you so much already, arching her back when your mouth had latched on to her breasts, biting down to keep from moaning wantonly when in truth she had failed miserably at that, thrashing and holding onto the bed covers until the linens were on the verge of ripping, she had to keep some mysteries to herself.

You would never do this for that girl at the canteen, only for Lilia, and now Avis, you thought as your kisses got closer and closer to where she needed you the most, her salty aroma making your mouth water, because that young thing meant nothing. She was pretty, yes, but she could never match either of the ladies you had the utmost pleasure of having under your body, screaming themselves raw when your mouth made them weak, a task you were very happy to fulfil for Avis now. She could never match the feeling of Lilia’s messy curls in your hands, Avis’s expensive perfume filling your lungs as you kissed down her neck, Lilia’s cold rings brushing your bare back when she pulled you to her or the sight of Avis soaked and ready for you as a gentle rain of silver fell over both of your bodies. One long swipe of your tongue had her arching her back, her folds the most sublime thing you had ever had the honour of tasting, salty with a spicy undertone that fell far from the usual sweetness you gathered from Lilia every time she let herself be loved by you, pleasured by you. A string of moans fell in quick succession from her bloody lips every time you sucked on her folds, your nose brushing on her clit with feather light touches that sent jolts of electricity all over her limbs, from the top of her head down to her toes, curling inside her black stilettos.

In under a minute you found a good rhythm, using two of your fingers to spread her open and fuck her with your tongue before wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking gently at first, twirling it slowly with your tongue until one of her hands shot to grab you by the hair to keep you in place. Fuck, you really could suck a clit. She had expected you to be good, Lilia was a very needy and sexually active woman so it was obvious she would have taught you a thing or two, but she hadn’t seen this level of expertise coming. Teeth grazed her swollen bud, spreading a white fire all over her body that matched the screams that her hoarse throat was giving, commanding you to go faster, to fuck her when in fact she had no control now. You could keep her wanting more, slowing down and then sucking and rubbing fast again and snatch her orgasm from her right when her fingers were about to wrap around it, almost daring to imagine how she would look pleading and crying for release like you had just done, like Lilia did whenever you had her at your mercy. Wouldn’t it be beyond erotic to have them both in your bed, one riding that big deep red cock while the other allowed you to eat her out, both moaning and begging to be fucked like sluts? Your sluts, all wet and lost in lust. Imagining that made your walls clench around nothing, missing the feeling of being so full even though you were slightly achy and sore, and the noises Avis was making along with the taste of her on your tongue certainly didn’t help the situation.

A singular synapse in your brain suddenly sparked an idea when the tips of your fingers teased at her entrance, pants high pitched and hips thrusting up to get any kind of friction that would get her exactly to where she wanted to be, but you didn’t push them in. You actually pulled back from her completely without a warning, a whimper at the loss falling from bloody lips before Avis lifted herself up and rested her weight on her elbows ready to call you out and angrily ask you what the hell you were doing. The words had already began to migrate from her vocal cord to the tip of her tongue when you rushed to the edge of the bed, your ripped panties sliding down your thigh, and bent to pick up something form the ground, leaving her quiet and curious as to what the fuck you were doing. The instant you straightened your back again her eyes caught a glimpse of black straps and a red tip and understood immediately what you were going to do, lower lip trapped between her teeth to avoid a moan at the thought of your fucking her like that.

It was clumsy to put it on like when you were still keeping her legs wide open with your body but after struggling for a few moments you tightened it, feeling the unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone, but you’d adjust to it fast you thought, your mouth returning to suck on her clit. You only needed to keep her dripping like this, and she would take you perfectly, your body moving to hover over hers as you aligned her own cock with her entrance, watching in delight as her eyes fluttered close when she felt the tip pushing a bit but never truly invading her. One of your hands tenderly grabbed hers and pulled them back over her head, inches away from her headboard while the other teased at her clit with your nails knowing perfectly well that she was more than ready, body sweaty and flushed. She didn’t scream, she made a noise so deep and guttural that she startled herself when you gave one hard thrust and buried yourself completely inside her, your hips perfectly moulded to hers, her ample breasts brushing against yours as her back arched and legs wrapped unconsciously around your thighs.

-Oh God!

-No mama, there is no God here. – pulling out slowly gave Avis the chance to feel every little detail on that cock, her cock, your mouth against her lips, ghosting over them but not quite kissing her yet. – Such blasphemy when you know that he would never fuck you like I’m going to. Mama is above such things and her girl will make sure to show her just how ethereal she already is. So, make sure to remember that I’m fucking you mama, not some God, just me and I will make you cum so hard that his name won’t ever be spoken again in this room.

She could have cum just from hearing you speak like that. The words, the husky tone, the power you held, or that she actually had given you for now, and the feeling of you filling her up so well, so deep and stretching her so good, it was like the most perfect cosmopolitan she could ever have, burning down her throat and spreading like a gentle tingling all over her body. You did not give her a chance to retort or gain any kind of leverage, you pulled out almost completely only to slam back into her until your hips were bruising hers, her hard nipples rubbing the sides of your breasts as your lips met hers, quieting every moan and scream of pleasure that was falling out of her. You had never dreamt you’d be fucking Avis Amberg like this, not even in your wildest fantasies, but life definitely has a way of surprising people in the strangest ways, or in the most delightful ones, because you could not describe those sinful sounds as anything else. Your thrusts were slow, fucking her with the tenderness she had forgone you, holding her hands over her pillow feeling her body shaking in pleasure and anticipation. She swallowed your cock with such ease, her pussy spreading itself to accommodate it with pools of arousal all around it, jerking upwards as every movement became faster, harder in execution against her pelvis, sounds that your lips couldn’t covered up as your lungs begged for air, filling up the room. Groans, pants, moans… and you couldn’t get enough.

-Fuck, Y/N. Harder, please. Fuck.

You could not say no to her when she was already begging, when her hands were fighting to hold onto the headboard for leverage. She wanted to be fucked good? Harder? Faster? She was going to go on a fucking astral journey when you were done with her. Both your hands reached to hold onto her thighs, your movements never faltering, and pushed her legs towards her chest, forcing her pussy to spread even wider, taking your cock deeper than before, so deep that the new posture had you touching all the sweet spots inside her. Avis’s back arched off the mattress, her head thrown back as the balls of her feet dug into the sides of your ribcage, meeting your thrusts at a brutal speed that she could take without issue.

-YES! FUCK! So deep, so full!

There was no self-control now, only the need to see her coming undone, to see if her screams could reach a point in which she could not manage sounds anymore, just frantic motions to show you that you were doing a good job, though you already knew that. Perhaps there some ego showing around the edges, but Lilia was to be faulted for that, she was a very very vocal teacher, and praises fell from her lips as much as profanities when she was riding you, though her strap was smaller than Avis’s, something you might have to fix. Being a virgin didn’t mean you lived in a convent. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled your head, your lips kissing down her neck as your blood dried and crack in between her breasts and on her chin, quelching noises of you fucking her furiously mixing brutally in an orchestra of perfectly tuned instruments that your fingers played. She was already clenching around you, holding onto her headboard for dear life moving her from side to side, almost lulling it back every time you sent fire coursing through her. She had fucked and been fucked so many times before, some of them actually making her lose her breath and weakening her legs but for some strange reason that her brain could not understand, or make the effort to right now, you were fucking her so well she could not compare it to anyone. Except Lilia, though you would not be insulted by it, of that, she was sure. Your hand retuned to her clit, engorged and absolutely soaked in her juices, your nails scratching in between circular motions.

-DON’T STOP! YES! YES! OHHHH

It was sudden, fast and mind blowing. For an instant there was nothing, no feelings or sensations, no thoughts, just time and space standing still and then a wave of white fire and electricity set her aflame. Your name fell from her lips over and over like a promise, a prayer, as her walls clenched brutally around your cock making your thrusts more difficult, but you did not stop, you carried on, with her body arching off the mattress and her hips losing all rhythm as she reached her high. Pleasure had her mind blank, cloudy with lust, tasting her own blood on her tongue from how raw her throat was, screaming her head off practically. You had to be thankful for her big garden, or her neighbours might have come to knock on her door already. Her juices gashed all over your cock and dripped down over the stained covers, but she was still in the peak of it all and had no intension of slowly her own thrusts down, matching yours with her breaths sharp and shallow, her heart on the verge of actually pumping again. After a few moments, perhaps minutes, or hours you finally felt her movements still and her body drop heavily onto the bed, resting her face against her arms as her legs trembled and slackened around your sides, the signal you needed to stop moving and let her catch her breath. She might lack a certain softness, perhaps a trait from her nature, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t receive it from you, your hands rubbing her thighs tenderly as you pecked her jaw and cheeks, allowing her time to relax her body and bask in the afterglow, knowing that she was okay when one of her trembling hands began to caress your hair in soft pets.

-Did mama feel good?

-Mhm… Very…

-I’m glad I was able to please you.

-Oh, doll, you did. Just don’t think you hold any kind of power here. I’ll be very quick to put you back in your place.

-Of course, mama. I won’t step out of place.

-Good girl. Now, why don’t you let mama reward you? – excited you gently laid her legs on the bed, a small whine escaping Avis when you pulled her long and thick cock out, watching her juices drip out of her and onto her linens before she collected herself again, a tired but still sweetly dangerous smile painting her lips while her eyes locked with yours. - You have done so well, and I think you have definitely earned the right to have mama please you.

-Yes, thank you, mommy.

-Come up here. I want to taste you.

Did she mean…? She was making herself comfortable on top of the pillows, gathering part of the blood that had not yet dried around her collarbone and tasting it with a pleased smile and hum. Oh, yeah, she definitely meant what you thought she meant, and you could read it in her relaxed but seductive posture and in the way her eyes lingered on your body while not even considering getting up. You were fast and a tiny bit clumsy in getting the strap off along with your ripped knickers, but you didn’t want to make her wait and end up being forced to sleep or go home all hot and bothered like this, so the rubber cock practically flew off the edge of the bed as soon as you removed it. Crawling up her body was like walking home after a long day, letting her hands caress the sides of your body and pulling you briefly against her when your neck was withing range, her tongue cold but soothing against the bite marks she had inflicted upon your body before, gathering fresh beads of blood on her tongue before the marks began to slowly heal. Scars would be left behind, but she very much knew that. She wanted Lilia to know exactly what she had done to you, to feel her anger in the air when she saw you weren’t her pure little human anymore, perhaps to lure her out of her hiding spot and face Avis, giving her the opportunity to show that witch exactly what she would do to you every single night.

Of course you’d let her lick you, and if she had wanted it you would have let her bite you again, oblivious to every thought that was crossing her mind, her revenge, her sexual haze, her memories, all mixing in a turmoil that she stomped on and crushed when her tongue traced your sternum and her hands gripped your hips, forcing you to move faster up her body. Her fingertips had brushed and caressed your breasts, pushing you from where you rested over her abdomen as her need to have you grew exponentially, feeling every inch of your creamy skin until your soft thighs stelled on each side on her head, your dripping pussy hovering a few inches from her face. Angry red marks followed her nails over the parts of your body that had remained perfectly pure and pale, mostly on your inner thighs, making you shiver as your fingers threaded through her curls while your other hand held onto the headboard, letting Avis kiss and lick and explore as much as she wanted, as much as she needed. The femoral artery was right there, inches away, almost calling her. One bite, that’s all she needed to suck you dry or to let you bleed to your death in seconds, but she had already made up her mind about what she was going to do with you: too sweet and fucking good with your tongue to kill you. Her hands traced the shape of your ass, kneading you and spreading you wider, unconsciously forcing you to lower your body towards her, that gorgeous nose of hers so close to touching you that you were shaking with anticipation.

Her lips kissed and licked her way up to the joint between your leg and your pussy, sucking little marks that only you, Lilia and she would see, bruises that made her crave just a small taste of you before she pulled you down completely. The small groans you were making turned into a loud gasp when you felt her biting down, screaming softly when her fangs pierced your skin and your blood began to seep into her mouth once again. She could consider this primeval need for blood as survival, as a deep hunger that could never cease, but drinking you, as her mouth flooded with the flavour of your being, she could only think that you had become an addiction, and one that she would never ever recover from. This time though it was truly just a taste, a sip of the sweetest wine after a satisfying meal that would keep her full until the next day, floral and earthy tones tainting her tongue when reluctantly she released your skin, beads of crimson liquid settling on her lips for an instant before she wiped them with the tip of her tongue, soothing the irritated flesh and watching it heal slowly. Two thin trails of blood were travelling down your thigh, but she was quick to gather them and clean you until there wasn’t a single trace of red anywhere. Her hands rested around your bruised hips, a hiss escaping through gritted teeth as she pulled your body down slowly, almost at a speed that didn’t make you realise what she was doing as her lips were still kissing and soothing your bruised flesh. Stars filled your line of vision the moment you felt her tongue lapping at you like a starved dog, her nose brushing against your clit at nearly the perfect pace, catching you off guard.

-Oh, fuck… So good.

Avis moaned loud against your pussy, sending vibrations through your body that had you shaking and holding onto the headboard for dear life, trying your best not to pull on her gorgeous curls and end up getting reprimanded in any way. She was methodical, slow with her tongue, sucking on your folds and pulling then with her sharp teeth as her hands kneaded your ass, holding you in place with very little effort, thriving in the mix of flavours that were clouding her senses. You weren’t just sweet in your blood, you were sweet everywhere, a festival of sensations that made her feel like she was having the most delicious chocolate martini she had ever had. Your arousal was like a sharp and burning pour of vodka on her tongue, sliding down her throat with the sugary tones of chocolate that throbbed around your clit when your hips began to move, seeking friction, pleasure, anything Avis could give you. But of course, she wasn’t getting drunk and high on just your juices, but on the noises, you were making, soft mewls and gasps that matched the flavours of your blood that had her lips painted in a deep shade of red, that delicious martini forming in her mouth with the sweetness of the baileys your blood had provided. It was just perfect, sublime, the cocktail mixing with each movement of her tongue, vodka, chocolate syrup and baileys swallowed deep with the garnish of Lilia’s golden sparks, and all poured into an hourglass cup that was your body. She’d sip from you until her senses were gone and your body was begging to cum all over her gorgeous face.

It wouldn’t take long though. She had fucked you so well before and you had been so close to the edge, still were after having watched her come undone underneath you, that every touch and every movement of her mouth had your dripping and moaning with your head thrown back, basking in every sensation. With her tongue she gathered every drop that was pouring out of you, moving her head back and forth to tease your engorged clit, gasps drifting through the open windows whenever a sharp jolt coursed through your veins, the tip of your toes and fingers tingling. Jesus fucking Christ! She pressed you closer, your pussy moulded to her face, your clit twirled and fucked by her nose, flicking it from side to side as her tongue slipped into your entrance, still sore and achy form having taken her seven inches all the way to the base, causing your whole frame to shake and moaning her name loudly, so loud that you could have sworn her mirrors were reverberating to the sound. Who was being blasphemous now Avis thought as her hands slid from your hips down to your ass aiding you in rocking your hips, letting you fuck her face, imagining the way your tits were bouncing and your face contorted in unadulterated pleasure while she ate you out.

-FUCK AVIS!

Her whole palm had collided with your ass cheek in a hard slap, your cunt gushing and clenching around her tongue as pain spread and blended into pleasure in a matter of seconds, your core ablaze, burning in wildfires that were so close to burning you completely. Your hips were losing rhythm against her mouth, lost in lust and passion, forgetting that she could kill you if you stepped out of line and pulling on her hair for leverage to fuck yourself. She knew you were close, so close, begging in pathetic pleas in between pants for an orgasm you were supposed to have had long ago, tears nearly spilling from the corners of your eyes. And she couldn’t quite leave you unsatisfied and needy; Lilia could finish the job when you went home and steal the opportunity of seeing you come undone from Avis. Another slap landed over your reddened skin, a scream ripping from your hoarse throat, but that was only a prelude, the honey she was dripping on your lips before the spoonful of exquisite dessert. Her mouth moved upwards so she would wrap herself around your clit, sucking hard and scrapping it with her teeth as she pushed two fingers inside you, fucking you hard and fast while curling them to hit that marvellous spot inside you without waiting for you to adjust or even grasp what was going on.

-GOD DON’T STOP! YES! AVIS! AVIS!

Supernovas exploded, the universe collapsed in waves of stardust and black matter that came from your body and soul bursting in a tsunami of passion and pleasure. If your back arched any further your spine would break, if you kept riding her face at such speed and with such force, you’d break her nose, but your brain could not form a coherent thought when you were being electrocuted, set of fire and elevated to a whole new state of matter. Avis could no longer push her fingers in and out of you, your walls trapping them in the most brutal orgasm you had ever had, the screams that had left your throat bloody no longer slipping out only silence as your voice had been stolen from your vocal cords, but Avis didn’t mind, she was quite busy twirling your clit softly to help you ride your high while gathering every drop that was pouring out of you, gulping it down so fast that she seemed to not have had a single glass of water in centuries. Your vision had gone black for an instant as your eyes rolled to the back of you head but a few seconds or minutes after your soul left your body it returned, and your hammering heart and hurried breaths could finally take air and slow down, your hips stilling their movements and releasing Avis from your iron grip that had kept her breathless for several minutes, but neither of you had to worry about her choking or suffocating, breathing was pretty much an accessory to her lifestyle now.

Your body trembled and shagged against the headboard, small sparks dancing under your skin, raiding goosebumps when Avis caressed your sore ass and kissed the wound on your inner thigh with a tenderness that had your hazy mind thinking it was Lilia for a moment, but you knew better even if your synapses were still under Avis’s spell. Or were you? In truth she had let you go long ago, practically when you had knelt in front of her like a lost puppy begging for a treat, so every single thing she had done to you and that you had done to her had been of your own free will. You had pushed your fear and terror to the back of your head, you had interlaced the memories of Lilia with Avis of your own accord all through the night, and never, not for an instant had the ginger forced you through magic to do anything, just sheer dominance and power balance, a fact that you clearly liked. You felt the shift in weight on the bed underneath your weak knees and hear the ruffling of linens behind you as Avis slipped from under your tired body and pressed herself against your back, the scratches stinging lightly and almost drawing out a hiss from your lips, but you were still in could nine and couldn’t even begin to form a single word. Her arms snaked around your waist and pulled you into her personal space, your head falling comfortably on her shoulder. The room was a mess, blood staining the carpet, the floor and the bedsheets, clothes spread all over while the strap hung from the edge of the bed along with Avis’s stilettos, rubies reflecting the platinum beams of moonlight as her jewellery rested on the chaise long at the foot of the bed. 

-You did far better than I had imagined Y/N. If I had known you could match me this well, I would have done this ages ago, but I shall not dwell on lost time, not when you are going to be with me for a very very long time. - Avis’s bit down on her wrist, rich blood pouring in gentle swirls over her freckled skin, but she did not make you drink. No, she would not be so cruel to herself as to turn you into a vampire, she would be selfish instead. The wounds on your neck were nothing compared to the way her fangs pierced your pulse point this time, your mind collapsing like a sandcastle as the pain radiated only to be set alight when she pressed her wrist to your neck and drop by drop her blood mixed with yours. Voices screamed around you both, souls that tried to steer you away, to make you run and never return but they were nothing, just like the smoke of her cigarettes that faded into the air, like the breeze that brushed your naked bodies. Those pathetic shadows meant nothing, but Avis… Avis was everything. - Lilia will have to thank me for this. A gift of sorts to bury the hatchet. An eternal one.

💗💗 couldn't post the other one cuz its explicit and im shy

Just a funny normal art doodle collab with @akilikesaxolotls!!

OH GREAT HEAVENS

I'm not gonna lie, she looks so fine in this outfit. 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Daniela's reaction broke my heart and spirit when Alcina announced her relationship with MC 😭

++ my top 3 fav routes

1. Miranda

2. Bela

3. Alcina/Donna (it's a tie rly)