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Dark Pain of the Night

Carmichael/Black

This is a prime example of how NOT to write, so kiddies, don't try this at home. This is based somewhat on a book Shayne had to read and review years ago. Laugh if you will, but be very scared with her. Couldn't see the keyboard for the tears.

I absolve Mychael Black and Shayne Carmichael from any and all brain damage that could be incurred in the reading of this.

Sign here:_______________________________________

***

Vlad von Absinthe, Evil Vampire Lord (patent pending) stalked down the eerily ominous and dark passage. All of his servants, greatly loving their master, threw themselves prostrate to the ground as he walked by. He accepted their adoration as his due, but reserved his special attentions for the one who pleased him the most.

His luxuriously ebony, windswept locks billowed out behind him as he slinked along, muscles flexing with every move. When he reached the last door on the right, he pushed it open, his smile wide, fangs gleaming, as he caught sight of his deliciously bound slave.

It had taken him so long to capture this one. His thoughts flash backed as he moved towards the altar and his tied prize. Two moons ago, Vlad had been alerted to an intruder on the grounds of his magnificently luxurious castle. The castle was awesome in construction. It had two hundred bedrooms, thirty bathrooms, ten kitchens, and two great halls. Beneath the castle was the dungeon, where Vlad liked to play with his boy toys. Stalls and cells lined the walls, and all manner of sexual devices and machines littered the rooms. It was a nice place to go when he needed to get away from it all.

In front of him, imprisoned in golden cord, lay a true submissive. Whether the toy realized it or not, he was a true slave. No safe word would be necessary for this one. It had been a long chase to bring the golden haired young god to heel. A burning passion flare in the sapphirest blue eyes, staring into Vlad's, muscles taut and straining on the perfectly formed nude body. For two nights Vlad had skulked through the brush, watching and following the trail. The moment of capture had been sweet indeed.

Deep verdant green eyes, the velvety darkness of a lush field, met the crystalline clear hue of the depth of the seas. The silky length of gold flowed over the edge of the altar, and Vlad remembered when he had first thrust his hand deep in the curls and forced the young slave to look at him. Vlad smiled and licked his fangs with his wickedly long tongue. He ripped his billowing white shirt in two, revealing rippling pecs with dark chocolate-colored nipples. A patch of dark hair traveled downward, drawing a sensual line down his stomach to disappear under his tight leather pants. Then he pushed the pants down and a massive, manly cock--ten inches and hard as a rock--leapt out, throbbing and weeping at the bulbous head.

"Rake MacMelancholy." The sound of the slave's name would be the last time he would hear it. "You are now for my pleasure only, and I know it's what you want."

The slave's nine inch, throbbing manhood bobbed against his groin in silent recognition of his state. Tied by his ankles and left open to his new master, a veritable feast awaited Vlad as he stared at the love canal waiting for him. His fangs hurt, wanting to dig into the sweet young body, but his pulsing cock hurt too. He climbed onto the altar and spit in his hand since there was no oil or anything. Rake trembled like a delicate leaf in the fall, ready to fall to its sweet, eternal death.

"Oh, please," Rake whispered, body arching. "Take me, Master! Take me!"

With a demanding grunt and shove, Vlad buried the heavy thickness of his sword in the tight, throbbing cavern of his slave's receptacle of sex. Another mighty shove of his raging beast of his desire bore through the resistant tight ring of muscle.

Every fiber of Rake's being clung as best he could to the delirious joy his master gave him. "Yes, Master!" he cried out, quivering and trembling, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks.

Vlad growled and snarled, driving his manhood harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Rake's love tunnel squeezed and stroked him, pulsating and clenching his throbbing meat.

"Yes! Please! Ohhhhh! Oh!!!!! Uhhh!!!!! Master!" Sapphire orbs stared into Vlad's eyes, screaming and pleading in word and expression as the thick heaviness of his master's man root used him over and over again until Vlad suddenly screamed as copious streams of cum filled the slave's ass, his throbbing member pulsing and jerking, drowning in the man-goo that spurted in continuous thick white pulses.

The muscles of his hot, welcoming sleeve of love milked the massive girth buried deep in him and the slave came screaming to his master. "Unhhh....yes...yes...Master...Master! Oooooo.....eeee....oooo.......ahhhh...ahhhh!"

Wave after wave and spasm after spasm wracked the slave's body as he gave his master his pleasure. The quivering in his loins jerking spasmodically around Vlad's thickly veined tool. The slave's member jumped and twitched, spurting ropes all over his pretty face and neck.

Afterwards Vlad gently and lovingly untied his slave as the glittery sapphire orbs stared worshipfully up at him. "Because you have pleased me so well and love me so deeply, I will keep you with me."

Vlad knew his decision was very wise. From the moment of his childhood, so long ago in Transylvania, he'd waited to possess this golden god. Every moment of his life had driven him with its longing to near insanity.

"Yes, Master," the young man cooed, full lips so inviting. "I love you so much, Master. We belong together forever."

"Yes, my love, my dearest. We do."

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's deranged imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

The Great Carmichael

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's deranged imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

All this stuff is mine, mine, mine. You touchy, I hurty. 2017 and all that jazz.