The Harsh Addiction

Courtney awoke with a familiar arousal. She could almost smell the fantasies of sex that danced through her mind. She was sweating a bit, evidence of intense dreams. She seemed to remember that they were rather uncomfortable. No matter, though, because this place was plagued with uncomfortable dreams. She sat up in her bed, and the red silk sheet glided off her bosom in a liquid fashion. The ever so slight brush of the fabric against her nipples sent a small shock down her spine and into her lower belly. It was not enough to make her gasp, or any other apparent thing, but it furthered the want between her thighs none the less. She thought of her circumstance for a moment, as she was prone to do when there was an impending orgasm.

Courtney was a young girl. At just nineteen, she was the picture of innocence and beauty. She had soft features that seemed both subtle and firm simultaneously. She had not the face of a model, nor the body, but she had a realistic beauty that cried out its untainted glory. It was quite amazing that she had retained such innocence in this dark place. Just six months ago, she was abducted just a few blocks from her home. It was not what one usually thinks of when the word "abduction" is uttered. Her departure from society had not been entirely against her will. The attacker had come from behind and she had felt an intense bolt of pleasure and pain. That pleasure had spread throughout her body, flowing through her pulsating veins and sending her into an instant orgasm that exploded from her vulva and radiated to all corners of her body. The abductor had lifted her off the ground, and her feet twitched in erotic enjoyment. She had passed out and awoken in the room she now called her home.

She did not know much of the politics of this place, but she knew a little bit. This was a subterranean city of vampires. For some reason, she was chosen to stay in this place as a kind of food source and sex slave. She was, of course, immediately addicted to that wonderful and glorious pleasure she had felt, and the citizens here were happy to oblige. That, of course, was their intention. She had eventually learned that if she combined the feeding with other sexual acts, the feelings she experienced were beyond that which seemed humanly possible. It was as if she were making love to a god.

Her room was by no means a cell. It had a great round door that locked like a vault, and she could not exit this small space, but it was certainly a beautiful living quarters. There were beautiful fountains and paintings. There were silk sheets and sculptures and other beautiful things. It was everything a young woman could dream of for her fantasy home. She did get cabin fever once in a while, but it passed when she wrote or played a song or two on the guitar they had given her. As long as she got her fix, she was happy.

Her thoughts turned back to her current situation. She was horny, and it would be a while before anyone would be in to feed on her. She wriggled a bit under the sheet and felt it glide across her skin. She fell to imagining she was a phallus warmed by the smooth vaginal wall of a beautiful woman. She thought of those walls inflating as the woman approached her climax. She knew just where to place herself, just how much pressure to use. As she did this, her left hand slowly made its way down her moist torso, and she began to push with her palm into the flesh just above her pubic bone. The pressure on her bladder caused an intense arousal that had her breathing harshly, making slight oratory sounds, so faint, one would assume they were simply the whispers of the wind. She slid her hand between her legs and began to massage her clitoral hood. She found the base of her clitoris without thinking and put waxing and waning pressure there, always circular in motion. Her orifice cried out for occupancy, but her cries went unanswered. Her G-spot would have to be lonely for now.

Suddenly, her role switched places, and she was the woman reaching orgasm, a woman's graceful fingers the phallic role. As her fantasy grew in urgency, her right hand walked its way toward her small pert breast and cupped it franticly. She began to roll her erect nipple between her thumb and forefinger, first softly, then with great pressure. She soon did the same to her yearning clit. It screamed for more, and Courtney moved faster and with more pressure. Her legs began to vibrate, toes began to twitch. Her back arched involuntarily, and she began to whisper a sexual chant that was composed of no real words at all. Her legs rose almost to her chest and shook fiercely. In all this movement, her climax crept up on her. The pleasure began as a low hum and escalated to an electric roar. The vibrations of her body synchronized, and she was a machine of ecstasy. She rattled and gushed and lost herself in enjoyment. She barely felt the climax, which she later did not really consider an orgasm. It was the thrill of the hunt that she loved. She would have her real orgasm soon enough. The sensation subsided, and she slowly became more coherent. She was fully awake now, and ready to greet her awaited visitor. She hoped it would be a woman today.

written by inklin

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