Profile Name – Mistress Euphamia
Age – 26 (Actual age 226)
Height – 5’6
Hair – Long/ black
Eyes – Dark blue, almost grey
Body shape – Slender
Enjoys – One on one action, bondage, pain, domination
Looking for – An attractive and interesting mate to spend an eternity with
The room is dark, so dark it is as if a black veil is shrouding this sparse square box of an apartment. Cobwebs furnish the ceiling and a dense cold air hugs the room so tightly that, had I been able to breath, my breath would surround me like ribbons. I sit still, feeling the night consume me and I wait. The clock on the wall ticks loudly amidst the silence and reminds me of my once beating heart. Time means nothing any-more; time is irrelevant for one who will live an eternal life. For as long as my mind can recall I have been somewhat, a melancholy figure amongst my fellow vampires. How does one celebrate eternity alone? Loneliness is my greatest rival, it is like a plague that grows on my skin and follows me like a shadow. The burden of my solitude has resulted in my most shameful diversion, but, as a result, has given me a glimmer of hope amidst my despair. I switch on the bulk of a computer and watched the room light up as if the moon had burst its way through the thick black velour curtains that hang sadly on the windows. The whir of the machine fills the air with static and my black hair prickles on my scalp and the clock continues to tick, tick, tick. My anticipation is starting to build as the modem screeches like a strangled crow and turns my night time into an exploration into my most delicious fantasies. This wonderful phenomenon known as the World Wide Web lets me transform into the ultimate vampire. I am the fiercest and most powerful creature on this Earth – I think, or perhaps I am no better than a weak pathetic human. I feel the former is more apt, after all, not many vampires that I know have taken evening IT classes just to get on in the world. My persona changes from night to night and leads me to the most miraculous places. I tap my finger nails on the empty desk and wait impatiently. Tick, tick,tick. I stare at my profile picture. Although the photograph is strikingly beautiful (and yes it is possible to capture a photograph of a vampire), it does not fully accentuate my perfect cheekbones; my flawless white skin. Some say that vanity is an idiosyncratic trait but I find it satisfying. My perfectly shaped eyes are blue, yet flash the slightest hint of purple and my lips are full and entirely faultless. My sharp white teeth are unlike human teeth, ground to a point through years of dentistry, and with the assistance of many a willing dentist who fell in love with the idea of eternity with me. I do not date dentists. I find the smell of them repulsive and their nature to be on the judgemental side. I stroke my hands over my bosom and grin at the full pert breasts, breasts that most human women pay for. My vampire body is an enhanced version of my human self. I am pleasing to the eye, exquisitely charming but dangerously sexual.
I search my inbox, as usual I had an excessive amount of emails and I hungrily devour every one of them looking for my potential mate. Unfortunately, to date, I have only managed to snatch a meal or two and have become increasing more selective. Blood is no longer my greatest motivation. I want more, I need more, I crave for the raw scent of sexual lust and burning curiosity. I need fire. My excitement diminishes rather quickly as I inspect each and every email. I am bored. Too tall, too short, too needy, too self-obsessed, not one of these feeble humans could satisfy my voracious desire. I lay back on my bed and clench my teeth, I am hungry and I feel an aching throb between my legs that requires satisfaction. Fellow vampires are inadequate, cold hands, cold tongues and cold sex is unsatisfying and lacks soul.
A message beeps and flashes up on my screen and I sit up anticipating disappointment. I am pleasantly surprised. Her name was Havana and she is a ripe twenty three year old, she is astonishingly attractive, sexually available and willing to experiment. I message back immediately.
I light some incense and several candles then tidy up the bed. I do not sleep. There is a myth that vampires do not require rest, we do, we need lots of rest in order to maintain our exquisite beauty and beds are also good for love making. I sit perfectly still and stare at the door. I sit for twelve minutes beyond the agreed time and I feel irritated, lateness is rude and unacceptable and my yearning is becoming painful. Then I smell her. I watch as the door knob turns slowly and I kneel on the bed on my hands and knees. I imagine what her first impression of me will be, dangerous, fiery, perfection. I allow time to slow down until I can unbutton my blouse and expose myself. She will delight in my voluptuous body and will find herself unable to resist me. I am faultless. She enters the room. She closes the door. She stands before me. I beckon her to the bed with my finger and hush her before she can begin to talk. Talking has ruined many a potentially delightful evening. She is pretty, but very youthful looking, her attempt at looking dangerous is overdone and I fear that she is so thin that I might break her. I am, however, taken by her scent, I can see the vein in her neck pulsating and hear her heartbeat thumping in her chest. I groan at the anticipation of thick red blood trickling down her neck as my fingers explore the hidden delights between her legs.
Havana crawls onto the bed beside me.Her heat is unbearable; her skin is smouldering and I can smell her flesh even before we collide. I try to avoid this irritating distraction but I feel my body shudder in the knowledge that her heat will linger, unwelcoming on my skin for days afterwards. She is grinning at me as she crawls like an insect into my reach. I know immediately that she is not a potential mate; she was imperfect. I try to conjure up an image of her with all the bodily enhancements that accompany the transformation from human to vampire; my mind concludes that Havana will be insufficient for my needs and desires. Too false, too – well just not right. I opt to tolerate the human stench and the sticky sweat that is emanating from her pores in order to take the edge from my sexual craving. Tonight Havana will be my plaything. Tonight Havana would die.
I am already fantasising the perfect torture. I allow my eyes to penetrate hers and I feel the saliva build in my mouth and the Vaseline between my legs melt. She is taken. I can see it in her face, I can hear it in her breath and it thrills me. I was preparing her for the night of her life, the final night of her life when, like an animal, she pounces on me. Her mouth bares down on mine hungrily, and her tongue darts in and out of my mouth while her hand presses hard against my breast.
“You are so damn hot,” Havana purrs into my ear, closing her teeth down onto my lobe, “I want to fuck you you up so hard it’ll take your breath away.”
“If I had a breath to take away”, I think before pushing her down between my legs. She rips at my clothing.
“I want to thrust my fingers deep inside you,” she gasps.
I shudder at her appalling language, repulsed at her vulgarity, however, she anticipates the shudder as waves of pleasure.
“I want to feel your wetness on my lips and suck you hard,” she moans as she rips at my lace undergarments
“I wanted to rip her tongue out for using such foul language,” I think. I have to take control of this situation. I wrap my fingers around her long hair and wrench her head back. She winces yet proceeds in forcing her hands between my legs.
“I want to make you scream while you cum baby,” Havana has no control over her over-active mouth and I push her away. She falls back on the bed and I grab her arms and pressed them firmly against the cold mattress.
“So you want to dominate me?” she grins. “Do you know how much I like that? Tell me what you want Euphamia, is that really your name?”
I can feel my tolerance dwindle and I clench my teeth so hard that I taste my own blood in my mouth; it gives me incentive to continue.
“Talk dirty to me, I bet you’re great at talking dirty.”
She wriggles beneath my body and I want to kill her there and then if only to silence her, however, there was no pleasure in a quick kill, I needed sexual release as well as food.
I clear my mind. I covered her mouth with my hand and I lean forward and whisper into her ear.
“I want to dive into the river between your thighs and for my tongue to be the raft upon your rapids,” I let the words flow from my mouth and dance in her ear. I feel an almighty shudder and Havana’s body convulses beneath mine. I release her from my grasp, unsure of what is becoming of her. Then I hear a roar of laughter.
“You want to do what?”
There are tears running in rivers down her face and her face it all red and bloated and I feel embarrassment rip through my rib cage. I have never felt humiliation before and I stutter.
“I. I want to circle your jewel with my fingers and feel your fairy pool run streaks of magic over your lady garden.” That will do it. It has worked well for me in the past.
Havana is bent over in a fetal position, rocking and laughing and thumping my duck filled pillows with her fist. My guidebook slips from under the pillow and lands on the floor. I try to reach down for it by Havana is surprisingly quick for a human and she has it clutched in her sweaty hands before I can retrieve it.
“Mills and Boons?” she scoffs, “You have to be kidding me right?”