Image Vignette: The Life Sucked Out of Me

This, was me.

This was me before I met my master–before I got the life sucked out of me.

I should explain. I was a hotshot cub, and my real fetish, the one I couldn’t get enough of, was bondage. Something about getting hogtied, of having all the power stripped away from me was the biggest turn on in the world. I was always on the lookout for some top to strap me down and do whatever he wanted to me–unfortunately, I found out the hard way that what some predators want can be…unconventional.

He messaged me, something about an officer wanting to come make an arrest someone aching for punishment. It didn’t have a photo attached, but the scenario sounded fucking sexy. I’d always loved cops, especially in uniform, so I messaged back with an address, and said I’d be waiting for a warrant. My reply came from a knock on the door. When I opened it, I had just enough time to take in the silver daddy filling out his leather uniform, chuffing on a big cigar and damn, was he hot. Older than I usually liked my men, but he would do just fine.

Then, he had me shoved up against the wall and his handcuffs around my wrists, the entire force of his weight on me, the cigar in his mouth heating my ear. “Oh yes, you’ll do nicely…good and young and fresh…” he said. He pulled out a chloroform soaked rag and covered my face, and before I could even get out a safe word, I was asleep.

I woke up back in the lair, in one of master’s playrooms, although he wasn’t my master then–not yet. I woke up bound to a wrought iron bed, my hands in mitts and chained to the posts, my legs spread eagle to the bottom corners, and stripped down to my jock, and my harness. I struggled for a few minutes, and even the terror of an actual kidnapping was enough to quell the raging hardon distending my jock. It was a scene right out of my most twisted fantasies, and I was loving it, and yet, what did he have planned for me? Would he let me go?

I don’t know how long until he returned, it could have been minutes or hours, but he did come back, still in uniform. “Hello boy–welcome to my sanctum,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll learn to love it here, like the rest of my thralls. Still, I’ve had a few passings lately and I need to replenish my…stock. Still, the first time is such a pleasure, I’m sure neither of us will mind.” He grinned, and I saw something I hadn’t in the doorway–the fangs. I freaked. I begged, I pleaded and fought and struggled, while he removed one of his gloves, licked his finger, and ran the saliva up my chest. The sensation was indescribable, the burn of the spit became pure pleasure coursing through my body, and in my sudden convulsions of delight I felt my cock began to leak, and he bent over, sucking the precum from my jock. “Delicious…you will be a feast, I can already tell–I won’t have to eat for days!” He pulled back my jock, revealing my red, throbbing cock, and he looked up at me, “Well thrall, are you ready to have the life sucked out of you?”

Before I could say a word, his mouth was around my cock, and I screamed from the pain of his teeth sinking in, my sudden, forceful ejaculation, and the pleasure from his spit dribbling down the shaft of my cock. He began sucking, and I swear, I could feel him latch onto my very spirit, and begin drawing it from my body.

My hair began to recede at first, and turn grey, my brilliant red goatee turning pure white, as the changes worked their way down my body. My chest hair turning grey, my skin taking growing pale, toned body growing fat until I had a prominent gut, cheeks becoming sunken and sallow. I had no energy to fight, I could only lay there and allow the vampire to have his way with me, to take my youth, feed from me. I thought things couldn’t get worse than that, but they did. I could feel him manipulating my mind, erasing my memories, replacing them with love and devotion to him. I was made to serve him, to obey him, to be his thrall. It consumed my mind, it is all I can think about any longer.

I do not know how long it took for him to feast upon my soul. The men I have seen him eat since then, he can drain them in minutes, or hours. Sometimes, when I enter the room to clean up, there is nothing but a husk, or a pile of dust, but I was lucky. He chose me, he remade me into his servant, and I will be forever thankful.

When he was sated, he stood again, wiping the cum and blood from his lip, and I saw him, my master, in his true form, restored to his glory.

The hole where my soul, my will had been minutes or hours before now ached with a burning need to service him, to obey his every command until I should pass on. He released me from my bondage, and I accepted my new bonds of the spirit, kneeling before him, now old and decrepit, worshiping and servicing his massive member, and then he gave me my task.

I bring him men. Any man will do, but my master prefers them young and willful. I pose as the lonely daddy, the sugar daddy. I buy them drinks, I ply them with drugs, I bring them to the master’s lair and he feasts, and in return, he gives me strength. Small trickles of youth from a kiss, or his cum, which will keep me alive for a few more days, long enough to bring a new victim, and receive what I need most. I am a thrall of a vampire, and this…this is me.