From puzzle500@aol.com Mon Mar 17 12:11:23 1997
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From: puzzle500@aol.com (Puzzle500)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Taken by Vampires (hus/wife)
Date: 17 Mar 1997 17:11:23 GMT
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Taken by Vampires

	I remember only that I'd been at the bar with some buddies;  I'd
had more to drink 
than usual.  My buddies were gone, but for some reason I lagged behind.  A
tall dark 
woman was sitting with me; she was close, in my face, talking softly.  Her
words were 
beautiful, but I do not know what she said.  I followed her out to her
car; the fact that I 
was married to a loving wife never entered my mind.  She opened the door
to the back 
seat and slid in, beckoning me with her outstretched hand to follow.  The
car started, and 
I was faintly aware of a man with dark glasses behind the wheel.
	The long haired beauty entranced me with her eyes, her wet red
lips, her kisses.  
She kissed me, long and hard, then gently bit my lips.  One hand was at
the back of my 
neck, gripping my head.  The other was in my pants, slowly stroking me. 
The ride to her 
secluded house was long, or it was short.  I do not know.
	Inside the house, she led me down to a stone-walled basement.  In
the middle of 
the huge empty basement was a lone bed, a cast-iron four poster.  Chains
dangled from 
the tall posts.  The silent man had preceded us, lighting a few large
candles.  In the 
flickering light, I was led to the bed.  As the temptress undressed me,
the man in shades 
chained my wrists to the posts.  My legs were then chained, spread apart
and fastened to 
the footposts.  I was becoming more aware of my female captor now; perhaps
the hold 
she had on me weakened once I was bound.  I looked at her beautiful face
as she mounted 
my hardened cock.  It was pale, which made the red lipstick seem brighter.
 Her eyes 
were dark, darkened more by black eye shadow.  She pushed her long hair
over her 
shoulders, then seductively opened her blouse.  Creamy smooth breasts
appeared, 
fulfilling the promise of her cleavage.  She rode me until I thought I
could take no more, 
and then suddenly the silent man was beside her, a pen knife in his hand. 
The state of 
mind I was in, from the alcohol, the frenzied sex, and whatever else she
had imposed on 
me kept me from panicking.  He brought the blade to her breast and made a
small cut.  It 
brought her back for a moment from her impending orgasm, and she looked
down at me 
with hunger in her eyes.  Grabbing my head with both hands, she brought
her bleeding 
breast to my mouth.  No coaxing was needed; I sucked long and hard,
tasting her salty 
essence, swallowing all that I was given.  I remember her screaming as she
came, and I 
remember her sharing a bloody kiss with me.  My orgasm began, and then all
was black.

	I woke up in bed next to my wife, a strange taste in my mouth. 
The late morning 
light was bright, and I buried myself under the covers.
	Late in the day, my wife teased me about being out so late with my
friends.  
"Trying to relive your younger years, are you?" she laughed.  "But now
that you're 
approaching 40, it's not as easy to get out of bed the next day, is it? 
Good thing it's 
Saturday!"
	I was not in an overly humorous mood.  I felt so thick headed, and
I couldn't 
remember a damn thing from last night.
	After dinner, around 8:30, the doorbell rang as we were watching a
movie.  I 
answered the door without turning on any of the lights.  As I opened the
door, I felt as if I 
were just waking up from a dream.  There before me was my dark lover, as
beautiful and 
pale as I now remembered.  Beside her was the silent man, dark sunglasses
as always.  I 
stepped back, absent-mindedly motioning for them to enter.  They walked
right past me, 
into the living room where my wife sat.  I closed the door and followed. 
I didn't hear the 
initial conversation, but the man and woman were sitting on either side of
my wife when I 
entered.  My wife looked at me, puzzlement and shock written all over her
face; their 
bold approach had caught her by surprise.  My dark lover was whispering in
her ear when 
my wife's expression turned blank, then a mellow, almost sensual look
appeared.  The 
silent man removed his sunglasses and moved in close to whisper in my
wife's other ear. I 
saw my wife lean back against the couch, her legs closed tightly together
and then spread 
apart; her mouth opened halfway, and her breathing quickened.
	The entire time, I just stood there, watching this unfold in my
own living room,  
the light of the silent television casting a blue glow over us all. 
Lavender.  The name of 
the pale woman suddenly came to me.  Lavender looked at me, her eyes
seductive and 
commanding.  She looked back at my wife, unbuttoning her shirt to expose
her bare 
chest. The man slid his hand across her beautiful breasts, causing her
nipples to rise.  As 
his lips kissed her behind her ear, tongue softly licking, his hand moved
down her belly 
inside her shorts.  Lavender looked at me again, smiling a cocky smile. 
She made a 
motion with her hand; I knew it was for me to undress.
	As I stood there naked, I watched them remove my wife's clothing. 
Through my 
eyes now, she appeared as a young innocent, squirming in the heat of
desire, ripe for 
sexual picking.  My cock hardened as I watched these two strangers tease
the sexuality 
rising in my wife. The man was kissing her deeply now, tongues deep inside
each other's 
mouth.  His hand was coated with her juices now, working her naked sex
into a frenzy. 
Lavender produced a penknife, and this time it was the man's wrist that
was cut.  My wife 
suckled on his bloody wrist as if it was clear water to a dying man.  As
she sucked, he 
opened his pants and slid his slender cock into her in one motion.  She
cried out and 
opened her eyes for a moment.  Through eyes silted with desire, she looked
me up and 
down, seeing my naked desire.  Then she turned back to the stranger and
fucked him like 
a wanton whore.  Her hands grabbed his wrist, she sucked more blood, and
smeared it all 
over her body.  
	Lavender was at my side then; she pulled me to the floor, and
straddled my cock.  
It was at her wet opening, but not in.  She moved her hips in circles,
teasing the tip.  Her 
penknife played across my chest.  "Do you want this?" her voice was soft
and husky.
	At that moment, all supernatural control over me was gone.  I had
normal control 
over my senses again; but that's not to say that my sexual desire was not
affecting me.  I 
looked over at my wife, moaning and fucking intensely.
	"That's right, lover.  Look at your wanton wife; she's a slut,
fucking my Damien 
for all she's worth.  Isn't it beautiful?"
	I looked back up at her, my mouth open to try to say something,
anything to make 
sense out of this.  At that point, she sank her wetness down onto my cock,
enveloping me 
in heat.  My open mouth could only groan as my breath left me, desire
burning inside.  
"Oh, god..please...."
	She slid slowly up and down my cock.  "Please?  Please what,
lover?  Do you 
want this?"  She smiled, confident in her power.  I nodded, ashamed at my
weakness.  
	"No, say it.  Tell me you want this."
	I couldn't fight it.  "I want this."
	"Tell me you give yourself to me.  Tell me anything.  Anything I
want.  Tell me 
you belong to me now."
	I did.  I begged her to take me, I begged her to use me.  She
asked for my wife, 
and I gave her up.  As I begged, she turned my head to the side and used
the blade to cut 
two slits in my throat.  She sucked long and hard, fucking me the entire
time.  When I 
came inside her, she owned me.

	Sunday, my entire neck was a mess.  It was black and blue, two
"fang" marks 
swollen and vile looking.  My wife was still in bed and didn't get up
until mid afternoon.  
She was quiet most of the day, apparently lost in thought. I knew she
couldn't remember 
anything of last night, but she never once asked about my neck.  I'm not
sure she even 
saw the wounds.
	It was 10:00pm before they arrived again, but this time they did
not knock.  They 
walked boldly right into the house, approaching us in the bedroom.
	Shock registered on my wife's face, but the memory of last night
flooded into her.  
The man went to my wife's side of the bed and began to remove his clothes.
 He watched 
me as he undressed, never taking his eyes off of me.  My wife opened up
her nightgown 
as I just lay there watching.When he was naked, he smiled at me with his
blood red lips 
and then turned his attention to my wife.
	"Watch your husband, my sweet.  See what he has become."  At those
words, 
Lavender climbed up, lifting her dress to show her nakedness underneath. 
She lowered 
her bare cunt onto my face, and I obediently serviced her, liberally
licking her entire area 
of sexual power.
	Tears welled up in my wife's eyes.  "Yes, that's right, love.  You
now have a 
choice, just like your husband did."  His hands were between her legs,
expertly 
manipulating her desire.  "What will it be?"
	She was panting, perhaps from desire, perhaps from the tears.  
Wordlessly, she 
reached up, hands around his neck, and pulled him down to her.  It was a
long, unbroken 
kiss, and I heard her grunt into his mouth as he entered her.  
	Lavender came hard on my face and then sat back onto my chest. 
Once again, she 
produced her little knife.  She smiled down at me, cocky and triumphant. 
Reaching over, 
she made two little incisions on my wife's throat, and Damien drank his
fill.


Two months later, my wife and I have moved into the basement of our
Masters.  We sold 
all of our possessions at an auction, sold the house, and quit our jobs. 
We live solely for 
the service of Lavender and Damien.  We are kept locked inside a custom
made double 
wide coffin during the day.  At night, we are released to do the cleaning
and upkeep of 
the house.  We are also continually used for the sexual pleasure of our
Masters, and they 
are more active than I ever could have imagined.  Sometimes, Damien will
open up the 
coffin in the middle of the day, climb on top of my wife and fuck her
quickly, dumping 
his seed into her in less than a minute, looking at me the entire time. 
I'm can only lay 
there, arms crossed over my chest, watching.  Other times, it could be a
long elaborate 
ordeal, an all night orgy with their friends; those times, my wife and I
are servants, made 
to provide the guests with anything they wish, be it food, drink or sex.