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Sweetness


hyokahey

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And adequately self disciplined he was; it had been half a millennium since he had experienced any uncontrolled passion (blood or otherwise). Control and wisdom had become his close comrades. His life (if that is what you would call it) had been refined by time, the hunger shaped from something most thought of as evil into something that reflected and magnified his original character when his blood was once warm. Yet he never regretted his choice. He in fact had done much good for the world. But he was now tired, impossibly tired.

He glanced at sweetness as she compliantly got out of the car when he stopped in the center of the cemetery. This one reminded him of the Mont-Louis cemetery that Alexandre Broginart had designed in England. He had made several suggestions to Broginart about the balance between open places and groves of trees. He had always enjoyed that cemetery, with its rolling hills, trees and waterways. He had danced in the moonlight there as well, so long ago, with another sweetness.

As she came around the car to be near to him, he reached to her, caressing her face with his hand. He had forgotten to place warm thoughts into her head, and she shivered and looked away. He thought he saw doubt in that, and so asked her again: ‘You wish this to be so? You have not been compelled or are under any threat of any sort?’ She nodded in affirmation, and stated: ‘I am here to serve your desire and need of my own accord’. She then leaned into him, embracing him, pressing her lithe body to him. He buried his face into her hair, and breathed in her perfume (Opium, he thought).

He grabbed the leather bag from the trunk of the car as he took sweetness’s hand, this time placing warm thoughts into her consciousness, and mentally beginning to caress her breasts and thighs. He felt her shudder again, but this time not because of the coldness of his skin. He led her deep into the cemetery, to a high hill, overlooking a small lake. The moonlight danced across the ripples of the water, and in between the shifting cover of the trees, that moved in unison with the unseasonal warm autumn breeze.

He found the crypt he was looking for, the one of a friend who had met his (second) death during one of the world conflicts and favors he had done for Anton. The crypt had a smooth, flat, pink granite top, and stood only a few feet off of the ground. He had placed the iron loops at the base of the four corners of the crypt for the play he had enjoyed here several times with seekers. He first took the heavy chains and fleece lined shackles from the bag and set them on the crypt. He then took a small, battery operated Bose from the leather bag, and pressed a button on the panel, and the sounds of Brahms filled the night air. He stepped up to sweetness and began to dance a waltz with her, there in the grass. She followed his lead with no missteps (he was not surprised). He probed her mind to see her desires. While he clearly saw her pleasure and passion for submission, he was also certain that she was not serious about accepting the power. Just as well, he decided, as this night was about himself, about his decisions. He had somewhere lost the taste of creating new ones such as himself.

The waltz over, he retrieved a bottle of chilled red wine from the bag, and opened it deftly; pouring into two fine crystal pieces of stemware. He gave one to sweetness, and he toasted to her beauty, describing each part of her body, that he touched in turn. At each touch, he felt her growing desire to be taken, to be possessed, to be fucked hard and well. And his hunger rose with hers. Her green eyes met his the moment he commanded it. She held his gaze as he pushed the gown from her shoulders, it falling to a heap at her ankles. He then whispered to her that she should undress him, which she did, with a slow, careful, almost reverent touch.

With each piece of clothing removed, she kissed and licked him: first the hollow of his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt, then his shoulders and chest, nibbling with sharp teeth at his nipples. Her tongue traced deliciously down to his navel as she unbuckled the belt and unsnapped the trousers. Wearing no socks, he kicked off the shoes as she dropped his pants and stepped out of them. She ran her hands up his legs, under the boxers to his ass, caressing him with gentle firmness. With her teeth (and with that, proper subservience), she pulled the boxers down. When she tried to take him into her mouth, he reached down and grasped handful of her red hair, and forcefully (but not cruelly) guided her to her feet. He embraced her fully then, and thrust his tongue into her mouth, at the same time lightly scratching her back.

She moaned, and the sound of it placed him into yet another memory...memory...memory was his curse, a curse far beyond his cold blood and never ending hunger. Two thousand plus years of memory, crowding his mind at all times. Each magnified by the other. Even his passion for dominating the multitude of ‘sweetnesses’ had grown old. But he still had some passion left, and he would spend it this night with this woman.

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All role playing aside, this is really well written. I love the mixture of real fact and historical clues with the underlying vampiric theme and love/lust contrast. It is really forming a nice tale. You might want to think about continuuing (please, please) and making it into a little novella. Sex and vampires SELL man....and this is why!

I agree, Bite me.....BITE ME!

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I come before You on hands and knees, head lowered, begging for the forgiveness i know i do not deserve. Life, in it's most annoying way of doing so, has gotten in the way of me serving the Master who spins this tale of unimaginary lust and desire. Please, do try to forgive me for i am but a humble servant who momentarily lost her way. It is my vow, it will not happen again, Sir.

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I come before You on hands and knees, head lowered, begging for the forgiveness i know i do not deserve. Life, in it's most annoying way of doing so, has gotten in the way of me serving the Master who spins this tale of unimaginary lust and desire. Please, do try to forgive me for i am but a humble servant who momentarily lost her way. It is my vow, it will not happen again, Sir.

You are forgiven, sweetness.

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You are forgiven, sweetness.

Thank You, Sir. Your kindness is not deserved but is much appreciated.

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What, pray tell, are you waiting for? We slaves have all weighed in....

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What, pray tell, are you waiting for? We slaves have all weighed in....

Oooooh, she questions the Master ... uh oh ...

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Yes, I very well may be petulant, but I know two things my fellow devotees may not know:

(1) petulance pays with pretty punishments......

(2) in a true DOM / sub dynamic, the sub has much more control than one would think.....and most times, what they desire, they get....for I too can withold my devotion, and wouldn't that be a sad, sad fate indeed?

I spend the rest of the time patiently sitting atop my slave mat........on my knees......secretly smiling.....

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I am quite sure that we can find SOMETHING to amuse ourselves with in your absence, Sir. ;)

Yes, indeed.....I so very much enjoy the game and I am sure it will provide a wealth of pleasure. Yes indeed.

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I am quite sure that we can find SOMETHING to amuse ourselves with in your absence, Sir. ;)

Yes, indeed.....I so very much enjoy the game and I am sure it will provide a wealth of pleasure. Yes indeed.

Well, if Master is to be away ... i generally try to be a good slave but i could probably be tempted into something by the right fiesty slave. Punishment can be an interesting ... reward ...

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I really try to be good when the Master's away; But always seem to end up behaving very naughty, I just can't help myself...... In the end the guilt is to much and always have to tell B)

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Though it was warm autumn night, there was still a chill in the air. He knew that sweetness savored the chill, but would not genuinely tolerate the ice in his veins. And so he placed just enough warm sensations into her mind and body as to use her well. Her nipples erected with the chill and with desire, both the wine and her heat now blushing her chest. He sat on the cool granite crypt as he pulled her to himself, pressing her to straddle his strong thigh. As he placed his cheek between her breasts, he could hear her heart beat, and feel her warm, soft wetness begin to grind his thigh.

Despite one part of his thoughts in the moment of this exquisite sensuality, a second side of his brain was racing through memories of other women, many nameless and called ‘sweetness’ for convenience. Others called ‘lady’ during a century where the phrase could be both respectful and sarcastic in the same breath. Many 'ladies' had dropped their proper countenance to fuck him with abandon.

One or two that stood out and whose names lived like dreams, sometimes just out of reach only to dance for a moment in his consciousness. A recent one,(and very rare in the intensity of her passion), had called herself Mikayla (he was sure it was a pseudonym.) Mikayla had given him the gift of reversing roles for a night. She did not have or desire the power, but she had actually bitten him in the passion of her domination of him! He repaid her with a night of full of his domination of her. She had a genuinely yielding flesh and spirit. The look in her eyes and her gratitude as he released her from the silk Kinbaku ropes made him weep. She reminded him so of Ana. It was a longing he had forever felt. But no one ever replaced Ana.

And a longing he still felt. To a large degree, it was the longing that produced the passion in him that was almost an anger. Feeling it burn now, and exchanged with sweetness, he abandoned himself to it. Just as she shuddered from her first orgasm, he swept her off of his knee and lay her on the crypt. He gazed upon her for a moment, pale and lovely in the moonlight. Raising her legs and placing them over his shoulders, he positioned himself so that he could taste her. She sighed at his teasing kisses, and moaned when he began to lick the small hallow, high up on the inside of her thigh. He found her clit with the tip of his tongue, and with a sense of attack, pressed his middle and ring finger into her soft center. She gasped as he curled his fingers and began to work her. He had her, literally, in the palm of his hand.

She began to writhe under his touch, and he backed off here and there to draw out her torture. He could feel the sensitive spot inside her (he had known this place far before it was associated with a doctor’s name) harden and swell as too, her clit did in response to his expert manipulations. She began to press her hips up towards him, trying to gain his mouth tighter to herself. But he once again eased the pressure and touch, and she began to beg him for release.

He, of course, knew that time was moving forward and he would reward her soon. He could sense the impending dawn by the tiniest increase in air temperature. ‘I shall give you your desire, sweetness, if you commit to giving me mine’, he said. Breathless, she repeated over and over, ‘Yes, yes, yes….I beg you for your cock!’ ‘And what would you have me do with it?’ doing his best to smile as he rose from between her legs and knelt between her knees. ‘Fuck me, fuck me, with it’ she whispered. He reached down with his hand and smartly smacked the swell between her thigh and ass. ‘No sweetness should ever use such an un-ladylike word.’ he said calmly. She bit her lower lip and looked imploringly to him. Knowing her desire, he spanked again, and sweetness had a second small orgasm.

He then fell forward, hovering his body over hers, his cock just a fraction of an inch from her pussy. Leaning forward, he at first gently sucked a nipple into his mouth, then the other. He used his teeth on the second one, ever so carefully, and bit her, careful not to draw blood. Sweetness came again. He then took her, plunging deep and fast into her heat. She rolled her hips to him, and he met her thrusts with varied shallow and deep strikes. She wrapped her legs around his waist, they were now impossibly tight, greedy for what each was giving.

His breath was steady, his muscled back, legs, and ass synchronized to draw out sweetness’s pleasure. Only the rhythmic slapping of her bottom on the granite, and her ragged breath could be heard. He directed his cockhead to rub her swollen spot as he simultaneously slammed his pubic bone into her clit. As she began to cum, he felt the gushing flood of her release; he read her mind and leaned in to her neck and bit her firmly, but did not penetrate the skin, increasing her pleasure to the point of the unbearable. She screamed.

He eased his movement and gazed at her. Her green eyes were dazed and yet deeply fulfilled. He waited as her breathing calmed. He could now clearly see as well as feel dawn just moments away. He said to her: ‘We must hurry…’ as he nudged her to roll off of the crypt top, and he took her place. ‘Place the chains through the loops, and cuff my wrists and ankles’ he directed firmly. sweetness did as directed, but was now expressing confusion and distress in her face. She had promised her Master, and was fulfilling her promise, but she did not fully understand the extent of what she had promised.

When she had locked the last cuff in place, she braved to speak her mind. ‘But Master, there is not time for this, the sun, it…’ He caught her gaze, and told her, ‘You have done well, sweetness, you have obeyed as good slave.’

As the first rays of the sun burst forth, and the flames engulfed him, he could see Ana coming to meet him. And his longing was finally eased.

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First and foremost, welcome back, Sir. I trust that your time away was rewarding.

Secondly, this CAN'T be it. Forgive me for saying, but it seems a bit.....rushed. They are sharing this intimate moment, which undoubtedly brings up bad memories and feelings for Ana, but he cuts it all short to what? Give himself to the light? No. No. I won't accept it. Don't get me wrong - masterfully written, extremely erotic, sensual, full of emotions (and yes, please add in your psychological commentary), but there needs to be MORE. Such intense longing for someone surely can't be quenced only by death!

Thirdly, :kiss: for using my name. Lovely, and I feel honored. Hmmmm, must be a repayment of some sort, what shall it be???

Thanks for spending your valuable time entertaining we greedy slaves....

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Oooh noooo, the end? Say it isn't so. What has angered Master enough to put forth such punishment on His loyal slaves? Alas, Master always knows best, but i do hope He will reconsider.

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OH YES! It seem I/we all so enjoyed this fantastical tale. I would so enjoy more especially your Interpretation of the psychological symbolism. I implore you to reconsider you decision to end such a deliciously erotic tale.

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An Analysis

The main character remains nameless in the story; this allows for female readers to more fully free their imaginations concerning detailing ‘his’ appearance, even though there is a brief description of him. For male readers, his being nameless helps to place the reader into the role of this mysterious character.

It’s my feeling that good erotica maintains a sense of not only mystery, but restraint, much like a Dominant’s teasing and extending foreplay for a submissive. The reader should always be yearning for just a bit more than is being given. The vivid context for the more direct sexual action serves to enhance those bits far more than ad-nauseum paragraphs of sexually explicit prose.

This story is about several things, vampirism, certainly, but dominance and submission, love, and above all, the reality in each of us of being unfulfilled. We can see how the main character, in his dominance, is in truth, totally submissive to the power of his love for Ana. His own submission is evident in his heart being so totally hers. He tries to dull the pain of her loss by fulfilling the need of so many other women to be dominated. Our own lives are full of such paradoxes and desperate attempts to seek fulfillment; it is always fleeting and all too brief, yes?

The dominance, power, and passion of a vampire (bloodlust) is a metaphor for intense sexual desire since the time of Stoker’s Dracula. The penetration symbolism, especially with the virginal innocent, along with the accompaniment of blood in the penetration is obvious in its sexual imagery. Such sexual passion and role play can have a genuinely dangerous, dark side to it. The vampire that agrees to give the ‘power’ to the lead character is clearly indicative of this: Her agreement in based on her own lust, uncaring about the lead character, using him and then abandoning him to his fate. Who has not been abused callously like that at least once in their life? Yet even those experiences shape us into who we are.

The lead character’s eventual self discipline, substituting sex for his blood-hunger is illustrative of the ability for sexual self development and growth. From unbridled, destructive and selfish lust, intense, giving desire can be achieved. The ‘good’ vampire is an effort to acknowledge that each of us has a both a dark and light side, as well as the ability to get in touch with the sensuality and power of aggressive (no not read abusive) sex. we have all made errors in our sexual relationships. Those who do not strive to grow sexually doom their relationships to at least boredom, and at worse, destruction.

The roles of Ana and sweetness demonstrate the joy of ‘being used well’ by one’s lover. Not in a degrading or cruel fashion, but in a mutually agreed upon, almost worshipful fashion. Both Ana and sweetness, while submissive, clearly hold great power on their own, and once engaged with the dominant lead character, complete a kind of ‘energy loop’, where both parties mutually gain. Such sexual abandon with a trusted lover is a level of sexual development that we all may strive for, but only few achieve.

Though the story is overtly sexual, it is also about love. All sexual experiences after his beloved Ana leave him dissatisfied. The allegory to this is his decision to become immortal; his need to feed on blood for eternity demonstrates his longing for the perfect woman he was separated from. The irony, of course, is that he traded a death that would have put him with Ana sooner (had he remained mortal) for a moment of satisfaction in the revenge he sought in destroying her murderer. Each of us makes sacrifices when we settle to be with one lover…leaving lovers of the past that took a piece of our heart with them, and forgoing other lovers in fidelity to the one we have chosen. Most of us, even those who are ‘happily’ in a relationship, feel a longing and restlessness for that ‘something’ that is still missing, still yet to be fulfilled.

His body coldness represents his desperate loneliness for his one true love. His consideration to sweetness by ‘placing warm thoughts’ into her so that she does not feel his coldness shows that his superior character has been able to overcome and darkness or evil through the power of his will. He is a tragic figure in that while he can produce the sensation of warmth in the mind of sweetness, he remains helplessly cold without his true love. His passionate sex is a counterpoint to the fact that as a vampire, he cannot procreate. This (unstated in the story) impotence presses the story to come to the only conclusion it could arrive at: his decision to end his existence. To achieve this, yes, he deceives sweetness, but, reflecting his true character as a gentleman, he does this after he fulfills the desires of sweetness first.

There is a bit of every writer in their story. Though I am not a vampire, I am a gentleman…albeit one who is, like everyone else, seeking passion in relationship and sex, and forever longing for that missing ‘something’ in relationship.

See you in the graveyard.

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I think I enjoyed reading the psychological analysis as much as I did the piece. So nice to know you love us all enough to put so much thought and effort into it. Thank you so much.

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