Chapter 1-Service

Weeks passed since the night Eamon came to Verena’s lair, and he couldn’t get the experience out of his head. He found himself craving the sensation of being bound and helpless once again, even though the memory of Verena’s icy touch still sent shivers down his spine.

Eamon knew it was dangerous to seek her out again, but the need was too great to ignore. He found himself standing outside the gothic castle once more, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. His hand rapped against the wrought iron that bound the wooden door together. To his surprise, the door flung open, as if his return had been anticipated since his first visit.

Verena was waiting for him, her fiery red hair falling like a veil around her face. Her piercing gaze captured him, and he knew there was no escape. He offered himself up willingly, willing to feel her power over him once again. Before he even felt himself walk through the entrance to the castle he once again fell to his knees, lapping at her uncovered feet like the animal he felt himself becoming. She laughed tenderly, reaching down and using her long black nails to tussle and knot his hair. Then once a lock of his dirty-blond hair was finally firmly in her grasp, she firmed the grasp her fingers held in it. Yanking his head back from her feet and turning his face toward hers, the tall and imposing vampire queen stared down at her prey.

Eamon’s breath hitched in his throat as he gazed up at her, mesmerized by the sight of Verena’s sky-blue eyes. He felt a sharp tug in his hair as she pulled him to his feet, forcing him to stand before her in all his vulnerability.

“Did you miss me, pet?” Verena purred her voice a silky melody that sent shivers down his spine.

Eamon nodded mutely, unable to form words as he stared into her hypnotic gaze. Verena tilted her head in amusement, a cruel smile curling the corners of her pink lips, her fangs ever-so-slightly teasing him with their existence. She leaned in close to him, her breath cold against his skin as she whispered, “Good. Because I have some new toys and I want to try them out on you.”

Eamon’s heart raced with fear and anticipation as Verena led him through the labyrinthine halls of her castle. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer opulence of her surroundings – velvet curtains draped from the walls, chandeliers glittered overhead, and the air was thick with the scent of incense, blood, and what Eamon believed to be clove cigarettes.

Finally, Verena came to a stop before a heavy oaken door. A wicked grin tugged at her lips as she pushed it open with a flourish. Her arms went up as if she was summoning some type of magic, but she was simply presenting her favorite room in this Wallachian abode.

Inside, Eamon saw a room filled with all sorts of instruments of torture – whips, chains, floggers, riding crops…his stomach clenched with mingled excitement and dread.

Verena sauntered over to a table in the center of the room and began to rummage through it, selecting numerous implements with care. She turned back to him and said matter-of-factly, “We’re gonna play a little game, pet. I’m gonna tie you up, and you’re gonna beg for more.”

As if commanded by a spell, Eamon found himself removing his clothing. As each piece hit the floor, he felt his anticipation grow, as if the weight of the clothing itself was holding him back from reaching the very heights he knew Verena would take him.

Eamon’s knees became weak at the wondered of it. He didn’t know how much more he could take, but something within him craved the pain and pleasure that only Verena could give him.

Without further ado, Verena began to bind him with black silk rope once again. This time, however, she left his arms free to move. Eamon could feel his heart racing as Verena placed a blindfold over his eyes. He was completely at her mercy.

Verena circled him, the sound of her high heels clicking against the stone floor echoing through the room. Then she struck the first blow – a sharp slap across his cheek that sent stars dancing behind his eyelids. He put his hands up to cover his exposed face, but it was almost as if that was what she wanted.

Eamon gasped in pain, but before he could recover, another blow fell – and then another. These were not the blows of her soft and perfect hands; however, instead, he felt the brutal stinging of a whip as it lashed out at him. A cobra of leather and excitement that bit him in every area he could not cover. He violently spun around, almost falling over his bound legs as he attempted to cover his exposed skin. He tried to predict the next blow by where he last heard the click of a heel on the cobblestone, but after a few moments, he realized there was no escaping the punishment. He could remove the blindfold physically and protect himself, but he knew mentally that would never happen. His submission to this woman would never let him.

The sound of leather striking skin filled the room as Verena continued her merciless assault on his senses. He let his hands drop to his side and reveled in this moment of complete helplessness that washed over him. As the whip hit him again and again, Eamon’s mind began to detach from his body. He felt himself drifting away into some otherworldly realm of pleasure and ecstasy. His body writhed in delight, even as Verena continued her unrelenting assault, he could feel the blood not only welling up on his tender skin, but filling his now throbbing cock with every ounce it could spare.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Verena stopped. Eamon lay there panting and gasping for breath, his body covered in sweat. He couldn’t tell whether he was dead or alive.

Verena removed his blindfold and leaned down close to him, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered, “You made a mistake coming here.”

She pulled him back to his feet and dragged him over to a wooden cross that lay horizontally at the height of his queen’s pelvis. His legs felt like they were ready to give out the entire way. Each step felt like he was being held up by rubbery twigs, unable to support his lean, but muscled, body. She flung him down in the spread eagle and bound position he found himself in weeks earlier. The same positions but on a much harder and less forgiving surface. The rough wooden cross dug into the muscles on his back, causing him to attempt to adjust against the bonds to discover a comfortable position that seemed to be eluding him. Before he found it, however, the Goddess of Wallachia had returned her attention to the bound captive.

This time, Verena was more aggressive, her touches rougher and more demanding. Eamon felt her fangs graze his skin and knew he was in danger. But the danger only served to heighten his arousal, and he found himself entangled once more in her web of pleasure. She toyed with his bound body, each touch bringing him closer to the brink of madness.

As the moon rose in the sky, she was only getting started. Verena’s seductive dance was more elaborate, each movement weaving a new thread into his web of submission. He was a eager victim in the web of a black widow. She began to whisper in his ear, her soft voice lulling him into a heavy state of trance. “I can live without you… but can you live without me?” she whispered. Her soft words pierced his heart, and he knew what she stated was simply a fact. Anyone would be eager to serve her, anyone would feel honored to serve this voluptuous and enigmatic goddess of dread and hunger; Eamon felt calmness however in the fact that he was in this room with his queen, and they weren’t, and he would never forget that as he served her as faithfully as his quaking body would allow.

This was a revelation that led to further realization, and both only heightened his excitement for the rest of the night as she continued her tantalizing onslaught. On this dead silent autumn night, as the moon reached its zenith, she finally stopped for a rest. Eamon was left breathless, not knowing whether it was from the exertion or the overpowering fear.

He gazed at Verena’s crimson hair, entranced as all the time by its hypnotic curls that fell past her shoulders, cascading on his naked body.

She ran her long, sharp nails, down his chest, raking the skin and drawing just a tiny bit of blood from the helpless Eamon. He moaned slightly, craning his neck to look down and the vampire as her long crimson tongue tickled the bloody marks that now covered his chest.

Verena looked up at him with her baby blue eyes, smiling sweetly as she lapped greedily at the evidence of his surrender. It was then that he realized it fully; captivating pleasure and exquisite pain had become one in Verena’s world. He belonged to her now, devoted eternally within this strange new realm of pleasure and torture.

The vampire queen smiled as she watched Eamon struggle against his familiar bonds of silk. Her crimson locks caressed every upstanding bone of his toned body as she enjoyed his fruitless struggles.

She thought what it would be like to continue to play with Eamon, a mortal man who was bound to her completely and unable to withstand in any way. Unable to deny the instinct, Verena gracefully rose from his ravaged body, slow and deliberate, eyeing her latest victim with a confident smirk.

Her eyes twinkled with seductive intentions while her hips swayed gently in an erotic display of power and elegance as she stood over him. The powerful dominatrix jawed widely to reveal her lengthened fangs, dripping with a thirst for blood and lust for sex.

Verena shifted into his field of vision so he could take full benefit of the view. She strutted a few steps away before turning, allowing him to get the entire view of what he was serving. She saw his head strain upwards as if drawn by a mystical force, desperately trying to get a look at what delight awaited him between her legs. As he helplessly strained against the silk rope, Verena could see this look of utter devotion when he looked down again, taking in the unbelievable sight before him. A true goddess, they both knew what she was, and for the time being he had all her attention. Then fear took hold and shock registered on his face as he realized that fact deeper, he finally had all of Verena’s attention.

For a split second, the two would-be lovers met eyes – recognition of the reciprocal desire that pulsed between them. In that moment it felt as though they were connected beyond just their mutual erotic bond. Verena knew that Eamon would never willingly leave her presence, here permanently within the curious world of vampires and submissive men who were drawn inexplicably into this strange new world where pleasure and pain are one and the same.

She walked past him carefully, tickling his skin with her elegant fingers, lightly rubbing them along his reddened and cold flesh. Her leather bodice covered her nipples, but not much else. From the inside of her tightly laced leather, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes, took one, and gently placed it to her thick lips. With a flick of her fingers, the cigarette was lit, and the smoke billowed around her like the opening of floodgates.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Eamon asked, the smoke filling his nostrils as he shuddered again in the ultimate power and surrender of the moment.

“Yes,” she said calmly, leaning closer and letting an exhalation of smoke out near his ear. The white cloud washed over him, drowning him in the scent of her clove cigarettes. “Let you go…” she whispered, before latching onto his ear with a playful, yet firm, bite.

Eamon winced as the pain and pleasure coursed through his veins, a sensation both immensely pleasurable and overflowing with righteous terror. He knew that Verena was not one to take failure lightly- she would punish him if he did not obey her every command. With this wondered in mind, Eamon vowed to be an obedient pet from now on, all the time working hard at pleasing his new master – no matter what happened or how much it hurt.

He was in the power of Verena now, and there would be no escape – she would ensure that he experienced a world full of unrestrained passion and pleasure. One which neither her bite nor his bondage could fully contain. Only in this way – through total subjugation to her will- could Eamon ever truly fulfill himself, overcome with utter satisfaction under the demanding hand of Verena’s will.

Her hand reached down, finally giving much-needed attention to his throbbing penis. He squealed in delight, the cum leaking from the tip as she stroked it gently with her hand.

Eamon found himself craning his neck once again, attempting to look down at Verena as she calmly stroked the shaft of his penis with her left hand. In her right hand, she still cradled her cigarette, inhaling it every few moments as her slave relished this new delight.

Eamon felt himself getting close to a climax, the climax that only such an exquisite night of pain and ecstasy could bring. But just as he felt his body start to shudder, she stopped stroking. Fear renewed Eamons’ thoughts as he fought against his bonds. His pelvis instinctively tried to lurch forward, to reach that climax that was so desperately eluding the bound man.

“Please…” he croaked, attempting to spray his bodily ichor about the room.

Verena said nothing but stared at him with her dead, lifeless, eyes. Every time Eamon thrust his pelvis forward, her hand moved with his penis, as if glued to the shaft. He fought for what felt like hours, his primal needs battling against the dark force that now controlled him.

“Please… Goddess?” he begged further, this time asking it as a question.

She continued the blank stare. Looking at him, she once again didn’t utter a word. But her eyes and body language told Eamon what he already knew deep down. He hadn’t earned it, not yet. In the now dark and terrible eyes that once shined like a crystal lake, Eamon found his answer: He couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it, and neither would his submission. She would let him know when it was time for a release, and that time had yet to pass.

I agreed to this. Eamon wondered to himself. He lay there in silence, trying to stop the natural pelvic thrusting that his body was forcing him to do. He felt his nature as a man battling with his need to serve his vampire queen and he relaxed further. I wanted this, he reminded himself, further relaxing and relishing the helplessness of his situation. I needed this.

She simply said nothing, just took drags of the small nub of her cigarette that was left. Once his body stopped fighting against his desire to serve and Eamon calmed his heart, he felt the powerful goddess release her grip on his throbbing cock. She slid her hand up, her fingers twinkling across his toned abdomen as he lay there, unable to breathe with anticipation. Suddenly, he felt his vampire queen get up, giving him a small smack on his belly as she rose to her feet.

He continued to hold his breath, staring at the ceiling as he heard the mesmerizing clack of her heeled shoes as she sauntered across the stone floor of the chamber. He thought what was next, tensing in anticipation of the moment that was to come.

But then, he heard the creaking of the heavy oak door and the loud latch as it closed itself. The torches that lined the walls of the room suddenly went out, returning the room to its black and odious state.

“Goddess?” Eamon questioned, looking around the room to see where she was hiding.

There was no reply, and as the seconds turned into minutes Eamon began to whimper and beg, but his cries would be heard by no one; instead, they would be left to echo off the dark-grey slate stone walls that now enclosed him.

Verena had left him, taking both the light of the room and the light of his existence with her.

In honor of my very sweet friend, he knows who he is 🙂

This is the First chapter of a 13 chapter Novella I’ve written, I hope you guys like it. Shoot me a message or leave a opinion. I really hope you guys like it 🙂

NSFW: yes