Kinky Storytime with Femdom Mistress Corrine

“He’s dead.”

Harold never questions, he always states. His firm square jaw line set in a stony expression. His hair will never change. Forever young like all night time immortals. I stare into his green eyes. He always looks 25. Handsome a graveyard statue that walks around cold, and soul less.

The room around me, is comfortable, though not decadent. Everything is navy blue and natural woods. That’s what he wanted, my human lover. The closest I would ever be to life again; without taking life.

He’d worshipped me, known what I was, and now the only living soul that knew me entirely he was gone. It was a flash, and instant. Word had been sent to me. Trevor lay before me. I’d seen his last breaths.

“Harold. He’s dead. I loved him. Show me some emotion.”

The bitterness in my voice cutting the air. I let my fang show, hissing at him.

“These pathetic creatures. You loved him. A vampire that mates with humans. A soul less thing with love. Despicable.”

The last word was spat at me from cold dead lips. He had wanted me all to himself. Often he toyed with mortals.  Made them love him, playing the sweet one, until one day he wasn’t so sweet anymore. Their fear sweetened the blood, the taste. After he’d toyed with them, then he turned on them.

I heard him leave as only a vampire can. I walked to the bed, there was still a fire burning in the fireplace. As though his human soul was still there fueling it. He was the most incredible human I’d ever met.

I sat on the bed beside his body staring at him. My hand reached forward to touch his cold face. There are never enough tears in eternity for such a death. I resolved not to cry only to touch. To remember the magnificence of his spirit.

“Sssaaarrrrrah…..”

A whisper reaches my ears. One I am sure that only dead things can hear. My own name, has come from beyond the grave. Vampires who don’t believe in ghosts exist, which to me is just as strange as vampires who existing. The wind kisses my ears, I feel for the first time a soft kiss upon my neck.

As I turn, my blond curls touch my neck. My hair is always in curls. I look innocent to the eye, even dainty and petite. My strength is that of something superhuman, but I’ve learned to control my motions, make myself look more human.

I feel the reaction of my body, at the touch, and my name. My nipples become erect filling with my cold, dead blood. They press against the fine gauzy fabric of my black dress. I know how cliche a vampire in a black dress. It’s not cliche for a vampire to mourn. I have read humans books about us. All of us are portrayed in their books without feelings. Perhaps if we do have feelings we are seeking our mortality again.

I have never sought mortality again. I have more time than anyone for memories, thoughts, emotional aches, pains to fade into a fog; thus disappear.

The reaction is inevitable….vampires get cold and wet, unless we’ve just fed. My human slave dead. The only being I’d ever loved.

“Mistress Sarah.”

I hear the whisper, his voice. In front of me stood a young perfect Trevor. The 20 year old I’d met. The only man who’d run from his normal life to be with me.

My cold flesh touched him many times throughout his life. Sweet Trevor who had been for lack of a better word my little pet. Dead in his Gothic mansion at the ripe old age of 75. An age that is such a joke to a vampire.

An apparition before me. Even a vampires mind can play tricks on her. Silly.

I started to sweep the dusty corners of my mind seeking out memories. Things that were tangible and yet only a mirror reflection in my head. I knew my green eyes were flashing with the memories. Another vampire could have seen them, could have read them.

To be continued…..

This is the rough beginnings of a story I hope that everyone who reads enjoys!