captainglobehead's Vampire Journal

captainglobehead's Journal

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← Sep 2007

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In due course
18:42 Oct 22 2007
Times Read: 846

It has been a long day of work, so when I enter my study I pour myself a large cognac and carry it to my favorite chair to relax. I sip my cognac as I review the work that I had accomplished today. It’s been a good day. We’ve gotten a lot accomplished. There’s still much more to do, but it can wait until tomorrow. Had I intended to work later into the night I would have made coffee, but I deserve this break. I contemplate the work that we may be able to start tomorrow. I need to start delegating more authority to those employees who have proved themselves. I need to start letting go; let them do the jobs they were hired to fill. Marcus is promising; Kenneth is knowledgeable; but Mary can take the ball and run. She came aboard with more potential and has shown more growth than anyone else, and she has earned their respect, and mine. That settles it; starting tomorrow I begin giving Ms. Barton more responsibility and see how things fall out. Firmly in the conviction of my decision, I cross to my desk, bring up my computer and fire off an email to all of my key employees, letting them know that they now answer to Ms. Barton. Satisfied that I have taken a huge step in the right direction, I take a large pull of my drink. As my head tips back the room swims slightly. I steady myself and settle back into my chair. Now to plan the next step.

I notice movement in the shadows at the other end of the room. A shape steps away from the curtains. A woman, dressed in a ruffled white dress slowly approaches me. Her hair is dark brown and past her shoulders. She studies me with large, dark eyes. I can feel her eyes roam over me, from my face to my chest, over my arms and down to my feet, and back up again. She is absorbing my posture, the rise and fall of my chest, and the expression on my face. It occurs to me that I have been watching this creature, this woman who has appeared in my house uninvited, with frank curiosity. Why doesn’t this bring outrage? I struggle to rise and confront this woman, whoever she is, but my limbs have become wood. The brandy snifter falls from my fingers. The cognac! I’ve been drugged, I realize with alarm. My eyes must have widened with the realization. She moves closer to me and says in a low voice, “Shhhh, n'essayez pas de se déplacer, mon cheri. N'essayez pas de le combattre. Détendez et laissez tout se produire naturellement.”

My thoughts swim. Muddled, I struggle with what she is saying, finally realizing that I don’t comprehend the words because she is not speaking English. Perhaps French? “I don’t understand,” I mumble. My head starts to nod and my breathing deepens.

She moves closer to me, almost climbing into my lap. She is examining me, looking closely at me, studying and memorizing me. I feel her breath on my face. The pupils of her eyes are huge in this soft light. She looks down from my face. Something shiny flashes in her hand. She has taken the scalpel from my desk drawer. Alarms ring in my head, but I am helpless. “Soyez immobile,” she whispers. The sharp blade slides behind the top button of my shirt and moves down. The threads offer no resistance and the button falls soundlessly into my lap. She moved down to the next button. The blade parts the threads while I was inhaling, lightly pulling the shirt tight across my chest. The button pops off, landing on the floor with a surprisingly loud clatter. I thought my breath was loud, but I notice that hers is deepening as well. She licks her lips in anticipation, keeping her growing excitement under control, and removes another button. And another. She pulls my shirt tails up out of my pants and lets the shirt fall open. With relief I watch as she drops the scalpel to the floor. She leans forward and runs her fingertips then nails down my chest, watching with interest the white then red lines appear in the shin. I can barely keep my eyes open. My head nods once, and then again, and I pull it back up, trying to watch her every move. But it’s no use. My eyes close and my head lolls forward. What does she want from me? I am at her mercy. Did I see any mercy in her eyes? No, it was more like a kitten watching a string move: interest, wonder, anticipation and excitement.

She unbuckles my pants, unbuttons the fly and pulls them unceremoniously from my hips and legs. Her fingernails trace lines up and down my thighs. I suddenly feel her breath warm on my genitals. I feel a stirring that surprises me. I am aroused and afraid for my safety at the same time. She murmurs something that I miss entirely. Her fingertips glide over my length, and then I feel myself engulfed in the warm wetness of her mouth. My last sensation is involuntarily sucking in my breath before succumbing to the void.

I awaken slowly, feeling like I’ve been asleep for hours. My mouth was dry and cottony. I opened my eyes to just slits and peered out without lifting my head. I saw out the window that it was still night out. My uninvited guest was still here, at my desk. I tried to rise to get the drop on her, only to discover that my wrists and forearms were tied to the arms of my chair. I looked up and found her looking back at me, a slight smile on her face. “Vous êtes éveillé, je voyez,” she said. “C'était pour vous. Ce sera pour moi.” She walks over to where I’m seated and climbs into my lap. She kisses me on the lips; a lingering, passionate kiss. She had no fear that I may try to bite her; I would still be ties to this chair, and wanted to stay on what appears to be her generous side. She reached down between us and began stroking my flaccid member. I tried to resist the charms of her ministrations, but to no avail. Her fingers were experienced and nimble, gently coaxing life into my willful organ. I tried to resist the charms of her ministrations, but to no avail. Resigned to the fact that she could and would do as she willed, I gave myself up to her. When I was hard, she straddled my lap, placing her knees on either side of my hips in the chair. She wore no undergarments, and guided me into her moist depths. Her sheath was hot and snug. She lowered herself until I was completely inside. She tipped her head back and inhaled deeply, then leaned forward and raked my chest with her nails. The sudden pain elicited a groan from me as I fought my bonds. She dug her nails into my chest, as if she wanted handfuls of me for souvenirs, and began raising and lowering herself, riding me for her own pleasure. She began bouncing in my lap with abandon. I feared that should she stroke too far up I may slip out completely, and her downstroke would do considerable damage to my tumescent member. But regardless of my fears, I could not ignore the delicious feeling she was causing in my loins, and the pleasure I got from her touch. She was riding me at a feverish pace. My breathing became labored, and I began to feel the stirring of my orgasm building.

She noted the difference in my breathing, and I thrust my hips up to meet her stroke. She placed both of her hands on my throat and applied pressure. At first I thought she did this for leverage or for balance, but it became clear she was intent upon cutting off my air. No longer interested in sex, I struggled against her, trying desperately to throw her off. She rode me harder, grinding her pelvis against mine at the bottom of each stroke. But my orgasm had already passed the point of no return. I couldn’t breathe, and my lungs felt like they were going to burst. Black spots swam through my vision. She threw her head back and screamed. My orgasm crested. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. My loins erupted and fireworks went off in my head just before I lost consciousness.

This time I awoke all at once, still tied to the chair. My throat hurt and it was hard to breathe; difficult to swallow. My windpipe may have been lightly bruised, but I would live. Again, she was at my desk, this time sitting at my computer. “Il semble que ceci a pu ne pas avoir été nécessaire après tous,” she said. I still could not comprehend. “Vous avez déjà mis mme. Barton responsable de vos opérations. Elle serait devenue une associée dans temps très peu de de toute façon.”

Ah, I picked out the name of my most ambitious and promising employee. Evidently she was more ambitious than even I had thought. “OK, you’ve had your fun. What do you intend to do with me now?” She approached me and leaned in to kiss me. As our lips touched I felt a sharp pinch on the inside of my thigh. “Ow. That hurt, you bitch,” came unbidden to my lips. I didn’t know why she would do something so petty and irritating as pinch my leg. Then I felt a warm wetness spreading under me. “Oh, you clever girl.” She stood there with my scalpel in her hand, the blade crimson. She severed my femoral artery. I would sink quickly and near painlessly into a sleep from which I would never awaken. I had to give them both credit. As my lifeblood pooled beneath me, my last thought was, “ My company is in capable hands…”

COMMENTS

KA0000
01:41 Feb 07 2008

Very interesting.Will there be more?Did you die or change?Just curious.

KA

Morrigon
23:47 Aug 29 2008

*in love*

This is a fantastic story.

Asteria
18:41 Jul 08 2010

Oh please...I beg of you...write more.

VelvetPassion
18:20 Aug 07 2010

That is outstanding very well written

Requiem
23:38 Jul 27 2011

I ADORE this story!

Nekirena
02:28 Feb 11 2012

This is a creative masterpiece.

I love how all of it folds and unwinds perfectly together to mold a story that one wouldn't expect, even to the very end.

Marvelous, really.