(Fangs of the SS) CHAPTER 12: Blood Sex

Nazi woman2
Photo by Chad Michael Ward (NSFW)

She looks up at the ceiling and opens her mouth to catch the falling drops of blood.

Oh, how delicious, he’s still alive. She can taste his agony and terror as his life bleeds out. She wonders if his eyes are open, is he looking down on her and von Regensberg? Probably not, Illana likes to blind her prey, it makes them even more terrified. But just in case, she takes her hands from von Regensberg’s head, where his mouth is busy between her thighs, and runs her hands up her bloody skin to her breasts. She plays with them, displays them to the prisoner suspended above her, hanging from hooks in the ceiling, bleeding out over her. Oh, she feels so playful!

His pale and unscarred body, its beautiful smoothness the first result of his transformation to vampire, all his scars disappeared. Even after all the millennia, she gets a thrill from taking her pleasure from someone so white, an unnatural color, like something raised in the dark. Certain serpents have bellies that white and lust shivers deep in her throat as she looks down the length of his body as he lays there on his stomach between her thighs.

She feels the warmth begin to spread up through her body and she grinds her sex hard against von Regensberg’s mouth. She moans as his fangs slice into her. Such delicious pain! He licks harder, tasting the blood that she lets flow.

Exhibiting a beautiful cruelty of his own, he stops as her moans begin to crescendo. He raises himself to his knees between her legs, wipes his lips with the back of his hand, smearing blood. She licks her lips in frustration, tasting the blood of the sacrifice dripping above her, enjoying the spectacle that is von Regensberg.

His cock juts forth from his groin, swollen thick with blood. Veined red and purple, a bruise of color. He is young, predictable, still encumbered by the habits and desires of his living life. So she allows him certain liberties. He flips her over onto her stomach and lifts her hips, clawed fingers sinking into her flesh.  

There, at the side of the room, she sees Illana and Camilla, the two of them naked and smeared with blood. Illana is leaning over Camilla, one hand busy between her thighs and the other squeezing a human heart over Camilla’s open mouth. They are so very beautiful.

He slides into her roughly. Without skill but with a certain endearing urgency, he begins to thrust in and out of her. It’s pleasant enough, she enjoys the feel of blood hitting her back from the victim on hooks above her. But when von Regensberg begins to whisper obscenities as his rhythm quickens, obscenities that pertain to her skin color and her supposed untermensch status, she decides that he needs to be reminded who is truly unter.

She reaches back and pulls his hands off her flesh. Tiny pearls of blood dot her brown skin as his claws withdraw. The strength and power of her grip allows von Regensberg no chance of resistance. She likes how he stops struggling, helpless. His cock slides out of her, deflating a bit.

Alert to their mistress and her needs, Camilla and Illana stop pleasuring each other and, with a flicker of vampire motion, they are standing behind von Regensberg. When they take hold of his arms, he struggles for an instant, then subsides. She moves to the side of the bed, gives her handmaidens room to lay von Regensberg down on his back. He acquiesces willingly.

With vicious, subtle vampire humor her handmaidens lay him out on the blood soaked bed underneath the sacrifice chained to the ceiling and hold him cruciform to mirror the body above him. He doesn’t notice, just opens his mouth to catch the blood pattering down.

She notices and slides her hands along Camilla’s body, touching her in the spots she knows Camilla likes to be touched. The handmaiden writhes in appreciation. When she sinks her fangs into Camilla’s back and runs their razor edges through her flesh, the handmaiden moans with pleasure.

Finished with Camilla, she moves back onto the bed and straddles von Regensberg. She looks up at Illana who’s still holding his other arm flat to the bed and sees the undisguised jealousy in her eyes. More pleasure. Staring up at her hungrily, von Regensberg’s returned to full arousal. Careful not to break the skin, she runs one fingernail up the length of his cock. The deep breath he takes in response to that turns into a hiss of pain when right at the last, at the swollen head, she draws blood.

Pleasure triggers a memory in her. Sex dacoits and their rituals of pleasure and control and death. Serpent priests worshipping the Bloody Mother in their hidden temples below the huge city in the jungle. She had spent a century there, learning, feeding, expanding her horizons. Willing sacrifices offering their throats, their bodies on the altars under the torch-cast shadow of the multi-armed fanged goddess.

Cleopatra left her there in Angkor Wat. She had heard from a Chinese merchant prince who she had fed from that there were lands far far to the north where the sun never rose. An eternal dark. Cleopatra left to seek out those lands. She wasn’t sad to see the princess leave, she had last felt sadness centuries before. But she was wistful. Cleopatra had been a magnificent vampire. But cruelty, she can always feel cruelty, so she hadn’t told the princess that Egyptian mathematicians, when determining the size and shape of the Earth, had also proved that the seasons and days would elongate the further that one traveled either north or south. Very long nights, yes, but followed by days where the sun never set. The burning eye forever in the sky. She merely kissed Cleopatra farewell and wished her a safe journey.  

She blinks and memories vanish. Cleopatra was beautiful but now, so is this. A chamber of blood and sex and pain. She looks down at the beautiful beast restrained underneath her and is pleased. She lowers herself onto him, impaling herself. Astride von Regensberg, she demonstrates some of least techniques that she acquired in the Khmer capital. She sits there, immobile, and then slowly, almost imperceptibly, begins to rhythmically tighten the muscles of her sex.

Von Regensberg’s eyes open wide at the sensation. He tries to move his arms, tries to touch her, but Camilla and Illana hold him immobile and giggle at his struggles. His hips strain upwards.

She reaches out a hand and catches some of the dripping blood. Gazing into his eyes, unblinking, she slowly licks her hand clean, sharp tongue curling around each finger, sucking every taste of blood off of each finger. All the while, her inner muscles rhythmically squeeze his cock.

His fangs slice into his lips as he bites down, grits his teeth as the sensations increase and build.

He’ll finish soon. Youth have no stamina. And suddenly she’s angry. Enraged. Selfish whelp! How dare he? With trembling control, she begins to cut hieroglyphs into his chest. She wants to plunge her fist into his chest and rip out his heart but she doesn’t let herself. Except for her moving finger, carving Ancient Egyptian obscenities into his chest, she remains completely still on top of him. She keeps her muscles locked around him, keeping him from release. He moans. She slices another symbol into his chest. He tries to move. She and her handmaidens hold him immobile. He begins to plead, to beg. Now her face moves in a smile, all fangs and satisfaction. She begins to feel the pleasure start to build at the base of her spine. She smells the arousal of her handmaidens. She lifts her face and tastes the blood of the dying sacrifice. Pleasure builds. She carves one of the most forbidden names of Set into von Regensberg’s chest. Pleasure climbs her spine. His pleading moves beyond words and becomes just mewling sounds.

The pleasure hits her brain and she freezes there, on top of the bloody Nazi vampire. Her lips peel back as her fangs grow long. Cold darkness coils inside her, wrapping her soul in a scaly embrace. Riding the waves of pleasure, she whispers HIS sacred Name. The waves crest. And then start to recede. She pulls her claws out of von Regensberg’s chest and stares down at him. He whispers, begs. She considers. Just long enough to let him think that she might. And then she slides off him. Leaving him unreleased.

The bed is so saturated with blood that it pools around her as she slides across the mattress. She stands at the side of the bed, looks down at her blood streaked body, and then to her handmaidens who are still holding von Regensberg down on the bed. Blood drips onto the floor. She inhales deeply, drawing the lovely scents into her lungs.

She gestures to Camilla and Illana. “Leave him. Attend to me in my bath.”

All three of them smile in unison at von Regensberg’s moan of frustration.

Later, after she’s been cleaned by her handmaidens, she instructs them to attend to von Regensberg. To allow him his release, but in a very perfunctory manner. She smiles when he doesn’t even protest. Cruelty, above all.

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