Vampire Rape Porn: Huntress Takes

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Maybe this is more what you were looking for?

Lithe masculinity with its elbows on the bar, all casual and sizing up the room with a comfortable potency. They tell you women aren’t very visual but sometimes you see the shape of the back and the jaw line, the squaring in the hands or the right V shaped torso and the full weight of your heterosexuality hits you, right in the eyes and the space behind them and makes you jerk your head back and shove your tits out. You draw in a breath and you know that moment that you’re a mammal, sure as any mouse responding to the bold ear wiggles of a male mouse or a dog howling in heat behind a garden fence.

There were other women there, dressed more provocatively, standing like houses on stilts thanks to their heels, and dancing just about as gracefully for the same reason. I was functioning entirely on guess work, and not the least little bit of rage. I was also carrying a slightly oversized purse for the situation, purchased in a hurry and stuffed with three big wooden spikes. At home, long lengths of pork ribs were smelling up the trash in the basement, previously decorating my balcony and making the neighbours think I’d gone completely crazy after a couple of evenings of grunting, swearing and stabbing. Thank god for Asian grocery stores and their willingness to sell pork by the side for only a couple of dollars a kilogram. I would have preferred a whole pig, or possibly a test dummy, but I had tuition to make next month.

Kaelynn had told me about the man when I found her crying in the bathroom. Now she was on a bus back home, out of the semester in the middle, midterm celebrations, cut short by a desperate need to get home to her parents and some semblance of safety. They had promised on the phone to keep paying the rent until the lease expired, though I didn’t ask them to and frankly I wasn’t as excited about the extra space, given how I got it.

I saw him. Not black hair or blonde, but coffee stain brown, and standing out like a Dutch Masters original in a dollar store. Nothing about how he dressed was unusual, and there was certainly no eyeliner or ridiculous fop shirt. The weirdest part was that he only seemed visible to people when he sized them up. Mostly women, a few men- he’d look, they’d look and then he’d seem discouraged and look away and then they’d toddle off and buy a drink or pop open their cell phones and head in the direction of the washroom, dialing as they went.

“Hey.” After three nights of hanging out and putting up with one or two men  trying to be very nice to me when I was trying to get work done, I was losing patience.  I threaded my way rudely away from which ever guy who’d gotten up the gumption to offer me a drink for penis grinding rights, and decided in the moment that I needed to make my move.

Push, push, push and a few gentle elbow nudges and I was at the bar. It was quieter near him, as he’d picked a natural dead area, where the speakers could not drown out all other stimulus with their repeat for the hundredth time that we needed to put our hands up and shake it, whatever it was.

Only the boy in a blue t-shirt was following me, big linked gold chain glittering around his chicken neck. I turned away, making my body language as uninviting as possible, but he persisted. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry, I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” I put on little girl coyness. “He just went to the washroom.”

Nothing spooks most men than the idea that another man’s sperm might be present in her vagina already, and more to the point, that an unknown and potentially psychotic quantity might have a socially sanctioned excuse to make violence on them, and he hightailed it with the decency to mumble about the luckiness of the boyfriend.

Right, tits, shove them out and look around for him, but not overtly. Hello, there you are, pretty boy. I was in my quarry’s sights now, and I could feel my nipples popping up under the padded bra and the booty shorts and thong chafing.

“You’re short.” Who needs pick up lines when you’ve got the ability to charge up women just by ogling them? A million leading men saturated his voice, heavy charisma so thick that you could bottle it. My cunt gave a little clench just at the sound.

“No, I’m flat.” I pointed my toes, extending my legs so he could see it was the footgear. “I love dancing too much to let anything slow me down.”

“You’re not flat.” His eyes just about palpitated my breasts on their own, but the way they bounced back to my neck told me that was more for my benefit than his. “I could eat you up.”

“If I let you.” I touched the boat necked collar of my tank top, drawing his eyes there. Pay attention to what you’re after, fucker.

“You were watching me tonight. I saw you.”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend here.”

“Of course not.”

“Want to grab some air?”

Part one accomplished, though at this point I had a tiger by the tail.

“What’s your name?”

“Em” I lied. It was Christine. Fuck him if I thought I’d give him identifying information.

“Emily?” he tried, expecting to get it right.

“Mina.” Maybe I should have said Lucy, or maybe I should have even avoided anything he might pick up on.

“You’re short enough, your name doesn’t need to be cut off too, Mina.”

“Picking my name for me?”

Warm summer air gave me an excuse to touch my neck again. He seemed to like that.

“You haven’t been properly laid in months, Mina.”

“Does it show?” Kaelynn had been a virgin. He’d known that too. I swayed a little bit with the music, letting my head rock from side to side and holding my arms with my wrists folded back to show the blue veins and the pink.

“You really like to dance, Mina.” Everything exposed to his attention grabbed his eyes.  I felt like I was teasing a snake.

He seemed to have a knack for making me feel drunk, even though I’d already amused the bartender asking for a virgin screwdriver. On the dance floor, dragging my purse with me as if I absent mindedly forgot it was that heavy and unfashionably big, I let him work his magic. He had me juicing up like an orange, soaking the thong. His hands were wandering, hip, waist, side of the tit, and his lips brushed my neck. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes.” Oh yes mister, take me with you.

The hotel room went under a credit card I was sure was stolen, though maybe he really was a Michael C. Evans, and I had to work fast to avoid him getting a grip on my humidity boosted curls. Kaelynn said that he had gone fairly slow to begin with, got her in the direction of the bed and popped off the little crucifix from her neck with a funny sizzling smell. She described him holding her down one handed and shaking his fingers with a yelp before he dug in.

“I have condoms in my purse…” I bit my lip, still playing it coy.

“Condoms and what else? That looks heavy.”

“This.” I lunged. Holy water, depending on your church, is always ready for taking. I had a bottle of Catholic and some United Church, plus $30 of “by donation” crap from a church gift shop. The worst part was knowing that after all this I was going to have to start going to church again, as he reacted like a man meeting acid when I dumped half a bottle of Catholic on him.

My quarry recovered quickly enough, and he was leaping at my throat when I threw more Catholic on him and reached for the Protestant alternative, cursing the over sized, overly awkward nature of the stupid purse. I started with the holy water in the unlikely event I fucked up and picked the wrong target, but the smouldering had confirmed my suspicions.

When he saw I had another bottle, he backed down, circling me warily. My god, I wanted to fuck him right then and there, rip his pants off and do him. He was doing things to my head he had no business doing, and it made me really angry.

Angry and horny and slamming him into the wall with the “power of Christ compels you.”

A big ugly crucifix, and that got his attention, backed against the wall with his arms out. Wham, throw the cross, so he deflected it like it was made of fire, stake number one, shit, thanks for the anatomy class Mrs. Poliwitz,  you might have been a hard assed marker, but at least between you and lifeguard first aid I knew where the heart was.

There was hardly any blood, but no flash-bang reaction or instant powder transition. The fucker didn’t even die, just sort of slumped his gorgeous self down the wall and gave me a weak look of horror. I pushed the stake in a little deeper and he made little groaning noises and tried to fend me off, as effective and dengerous as a kitten.

“You remember Kaelynn?”

“Yes.” He rasped. There were the big teeth, amazing incisors. “Yes I do. Who are you?”

“The person who is setting things up right. You know at first I thought you raped her, the way she told it…”

He was reaching for the stake, curling his hand around it.

“You stop that, son of a bitch!” I scolded and batted his arm away, pushing it in still deeper. “I’m just not sure why you’re not dead. Everything else worked.”

“You can’t…”

“I want to know what the fuck you are.”

“What do you think, you stupid bitch?” He grunted, going for the stake again. “I’m a fucking angel?”

“I think you’re dead meat.” He pinned himself flat to the wall and whimpered as I pressed a handful of cheap stamped medallions into his chest.  “Kaelynn was so fucked up after that you, I caught her trying to kill herself.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

I saw the burns everywhere something ‘holy’ touched him. The absurdity of the situation was ongoing. I mean, really, that made the universe into some sort of cheap joke. If I felt anything beyond rage on Kaelynn’s behalf and my own lust, it was mourning for a cosmology that didn’t make me feel like we’d been busted back down to the dark ages. Pretty much all my moral premises were going to need re-examination now.  “How come you’re not dead?”

He gave me a mournful look with his beautiful eyes, but shook his head in defiance. I wasn’t going to tolerate that, and the big fist full of medallions went a good way towards making him hurt.  He tried to fight me again, with all the strength of an eighty year old man with palsy.

“What’s the matter with you? Die already.”

“You need… no!” Stubborn, I could always keep hurting him, I guessed.

It was testament to whatever capacity he had that he was sporting burns and hunk of wood in a major organ, and he still looked ripe and ready for sex. The mouth that hid a nasty set of hidden fangs, total body horror style, still made me want to kiss and nibble his lower lip. “What are you doing to my head?”

“You want me.” He smiled and slithered into that peacock strutting pose that guys do when they feel sexually confident, as if the weight of his cock was holding the universe in place. “You all want me.”

The attempts to physically stop me were getting annoying. Up until Kaelynn started acting weird about two weeks ago, the one bit of faith I’d had was with over preparedness. It was kind of a joke, a non-smoker who always carried a lighter, the girl forever giving other people tampons and bandaids. I had duct tape, a whole roll of the good stuff from the hardware store.

Presently, with much struggling and hitting, I had my quarry’s arms restrained behind his back, his ruined shirt off, and the extra insurance of a lot of tape around and holding the stake in place. He really seemed in agony when I jammed and shoved it until I had the least amount sticking out. Unless he had a burst of unexpected strength hidden in him, I wouldn’t have to watch him quite as hard. But for the time being, he would lie on his back, arms crushed underneath him, and I’d sit on him. I needed more tape, but you can’t prepare for every occasion.

For a human, I’m quite sure it would be agonizing to have your shoulders strained that way and then squashed. But he was some sort of monster outside the realm of anything I’d encountered before, amnesty international be damned. I was watching him heal like a time lapse video, far too fast for my liking. And that’s where the knife was going to help.

“Please!” I liked that I scared him. Yeah, pretty boy, you asked for this when you fucked up Kaelynn and then tried to sink your hook into me. I might feel hot and swollen chested, all tight and tingling from the centre of my groin to the soft flesh inside my thighs, but that wasn’t helping him.

I didn’t threaten, I cut and then I talked. Let him reach his own  conclusion of how he was going to get me to quit hurting him. “You stop trying to do the sex thing, and then tell me what I want to hear. I want to know how you die, and if there’s more of you motherfuckers extant.”

He looked like extant was too big a word for him. Whatever, I talk funny when I’m stressed.  “Yes! Oh, please! No, let me go. I won’t… what do you want, money? Don’t kill me, I can get you money…”

“No, stupid, I want to kill you. How much it hurts is based on how willing you are to talk.”

“You have to…” He screamed as I started getting creative where the point of the knife went. It felt a lot better to hurt him with something I understood. Twist. Scream. Twist.

“Okay, how about an eye. You heal optic tissue fast?” Unnnnh, fuck, when he squirmed it was pushing against my cunt. Maybe straddling him was a mistake. But the lust wasn’t my fault. I’d never gotten that horny in such a crazy situation before. Kaelynn and I suited each other, innocence and frigidity, one of us waiting for true love and the other one looking for a boy that didn’t bore her to tears. Her parents loved me, they thought I was a great influence, no boyfriend, all books.  Is it my fault that aggressive come ons make me angry and passive boys make me feel unwanted?

“If you take my head.” Only after I’d started to poke around the orbit of his eye did the words really start babbling out. “Oh, don’t. There’s more but this is my place. My place to hunt. Oh.”

“Cut your head off?”

“N-no.”

Don’t deny it. I can make you wish I would and I’m willing to cut pieces off until I find the right one, pretty boy. “Okay, I can test this hypothesis myself.”

“I don’t want to die!” Wimp. Crying. It would be nice to stick my tongue out and taste those tears. I could stroke him and make it stop hurting. Yes. Wait. Fucker was trying to short circuit my libido into empathy. I grabbed a handful of his hair and looked for the best part to start sawing on his neck. He was already patching up everything I cut so you couldn’t see the marks, speaking in a little voice and string to hunch up as small as possible under me. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Shit, you shouldn’t exist. You’re some sort of personification of personal violation, and you sure as hell enjoyed fucking with Kaelynn’s head enough to break her.” This was not a task for the tools I had easily at hand. I kept my knife sharp, but I was going to have to hack through veins and tendons and vertebrae. My knife is for cutting seatbelts and impromptu picnics. “You would have happily done the same thing to me.”

“You want me, don’t you?” Was he really trying that line of attack again? Seriously?

I shifted a little and found his groin with my hand. “Uh-huh, I’m pretty sure that’s all you’ve got going on. You’re an animate advertisement for abstinence.”

There was a partial erection there. I screwed up my face. Tease. “Kaelynn says you fucked her, and she felt like she had to, but you seemed more interested in the parts of her that bled.”

“She was a good girl.”

“You mean you had her compelled to do whatever you want and you laughed when she started worry about a soul. You said you wanted her damned. Why don’t you tell me about the other things out there, like you?”

“We…” Here he hesitated again. “We’re strong. We’re going to find you and make you regret this.”

“Somehow I doubt that, I took you down to easily.” I snorted, and gave his crotch a squeeze. How big was it? No, bad thought. “The moments of your existence I’ll let you keep having are entirely based on your ability to give me useful information.”

“They’re worse than you.”

“Try me, asshole.” Maybe my bravado was misplaced, but if they were coming they weren’t hurrying.

He told me a story, some of it had to be bullshit, about the damned who fed; how Kaelynn was going to join him, up until she wigged out and I’d seen her locked in a psych facility for a few days; of tithes and people like him. How they fought against fire and faith, how he learned to kill, and who he admitted he’d made vanish.

The offer of money was real, according to him. I had no idea the exact power and abilities he had at his disposal. He said he needed permission to get into private property, but not hotels or places with assumed consent or entrance. Little pieces of pain got the confession that any article of faith worked. He said people who had strong convictions tasted better, his favourite victim was an environmentalist who thought tsunami were caused by global warming. So much terrified blubbering; this was the first time anyone got the jump on him.

“So I don’t just need to kill you, there’s more of you to take out.” Lovely.  And the sexy feeling was taking its own time to go away. “How are you making me want you?”

“You need something, someone. It’s written all over you. I bet you’ve been making do with masturbation for months. Kaelynn didn’t have a clue, she was so simple. Sweet.” There were the teeth again.

“Hmmph,” I wasn’t going to let him bully me with his desirability. “How about I use this knife to unman you?”

He clammed up, but I don’t think he knew how to turn the seduction off. I yanked the button open on his pants. Oh my, there was the nice outline of everything he had. So damn good. I was sitting on his legs now, and he was trying to pull his torso up, to fold at the waist and stop me from fondling him.

“How long will you be stuck a eunuch after I cut this off? Think I should take the whole thing?”  More terror, but he didn’t turn the seduction off. Out of his control then. I liked his penis, it fit well into my hand. I rubbed it, firmly. “Ah, but you want me too. And it’s just as much out of your control. It’s a different sort of want, but you didn’t have to fuck Kaelynn. It’s just all tangled up in the hunger, isn’t it?”

He was making little animal whimpers. Maybe a hand job where your other hand is poking a knife point into his scrotum is a bit too much. Whatever. He had no compunction toying with Kaelynn. He told her outright he could have her any way he wanted and kill her when he got bored.

“How does it feel to be helpless?” I hit him in the gut with my balled up hand, a thump more than a punch. “Your turn.”

He grunted. “Hurts.”

“Stay still.” The lust was just buzzing away. Something about having him vulnerable like that only made it worse. That was one of the reasons for my perpetual singleness. No fucking time for stupid. I wanted my way, and that wasn’t really conducive to fucking spoiled college boys who explained without a trace of irony that their dates had a duty to wax off all the hair on their cunts. Who acted all weirded out when you made it clear that you had school to think about so they could expect to see you a couple of times a month for sex and that’s it.

It wasn’t just sexual frustration, it was a bit of real tension. I could smell the maleness off him. Not the kind in an aerosol can, the kind that raises your hackles and demands you slam a boy against the wall so you can kiss him. I realized I was humping against my quarry’s legs. My mouth dipped, wrapped around the head of his cock.

“Don’t!” He thought all my moving around was a preamble to unmanning him.

I giggled with a full mouth. His cock tasted perfect, felt perfect in my mouth, surprisingly warm. I moaned and sucked. Funny, the hunter being scared of me. I liked it.

“Shit…” he swore, still struggling all kitten weak and helpless.

Those stupid shorts took almost too long to get off, dragging the thong with them. I am not a thong girl. I wanted to see how he liked it, me taking what I wanted from him, the way he wanted to take from me. There was no confidence anymore in him, in fact he was terrified and terrorized, as my desires guided me.

Engulfing him in my wet cunt. Making him conform, be devoured. Using him, even though I knew his shoulders hurt with his arms trapped under him and me nails raked his neck, had slapping his cheek when he tried to look away. He reacted to my body like it burned, though nothing killed his erection. It was like a connection he couldn’t sever, as if he were a fisherman dragged into the water by the weight of the thing he’d hooked on his line, and struggling lest I drowned him.

“What’s the matter?” I held his head and made him look at me, taunting him. “Don’t like it?”

“You hurt!” There were the big eyes, bright with changeable colours, hazel, the way it was described, where it was at once grey and blue and green and amber brown. The orgasm hit me, fast and heavy, hip rocking contractions that made me yell. I never yell.

There was no post sex regret. He was still hard, inside me, and pleading. “Please, please, please… I made you happy, please let me come please it hurt, please let me go, please Em. Please!”

I levered myself off him and grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you now?”

He gave a little whimper. “Em, don’t…”

My hand caressed his pale throat, as the warmth of my climax gave me that all over buttered and browned sensation, from tits to toes. “Maybe you can buy some more time if you answer some more questions…”

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