This story is about a role play character of mine. And well...it's events leading up to who she became and so on and so fourth. To summarize Chantel hasn't always been a vampire she was turned into one by a jealous lover Marcel. He turns her into one against her will. She was exiled from her land and so he took her away. Over decades the situations never got better either Marcel constantly abused her.
Frequent abuse scenes...
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Possession - Prologue
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck, her fragile pale body quivering against him.
"Mmm hey now...why are you so scared? Haven’t you missed me at all?" Marcel mocked as he laughed, the young girls eyes filling with tears as she looked to the ground. She didn’t reply to him but merely try to choke down the incoming sobs.
"Don’t cry. I’ve missed you so Chantel."
He pressed her body closer to his and moved her shoulder length brown hair from off her left shoulder. He smiled wickedly and licked up her neck. She shivered, utterly weak against Marcel’s touches.
"Please Marcel let me go..." She closed her eyes, all of that in a whisper. Her body was in a state of shock, not moving; not wanting to upset him anymore than he may already be.
"Let you go?" He asked sarcastically. "Let you go?" He asked again as Chantel nodded. "My love...that is the last thing id ever do," he whispered, sucking softly on a spot on her neck. Chantel whimpered as his hands explored the curves of her body. Looking down the wooden floors she had realized the situation was rather hopeless; she had run and he had found her. She tried so many times to end it all, and he stopped her. She had been taken to far away lands by strangers, and yet somehow...every time he would get her back; he always won.
Marcel was one of a kind indeed; handsome, intelligent and some even said a finical genius when it came to moving out and about around the country. He had long black hair in which he kept tied in a loose pony tail. He wore a long white shirt and tight black pants; simple, and yet he made it look elegant.
"You were gone for so long. You have no idea...the pain....the pain you have caused me, my beloved Chantel," he spoke as he ran both his hands over her stomach, still covered with her corset.
"I’m so sorry..." Chantel managed to mutter before Marcel tore off her corset. He smirked and raked his long finger nails over her stomach, leaving long red bloody gashes. She yelped and tried to get free of him, kicking, screaming and moving as hard as she could.
"Marcel PLEASE! Stop now! I’m sorry! It wasn’t my fault. I love you! Id never leave you!" she exclaimed trying not to be hysterical about it, which was rather difficult, so she sighed as he continued to make stray bloody marks down her pale stomach. Marcel smirked deviously and bit into her neck, eliciting a louder scream from her.
"That may have worked on me last decade… but now I know better!" he muttered, letting her go. Her fresh blood dripped lazily down her neck and he had her in a tight grip, so that she was fully pressed against him. She cried out in pain, the tears running down her cheeks now.
"Please Marcel! Stop!" She tried to struggle, but that only made his grip tighter along her body. He smirked and licked up her neck a few times and paused. He looked down at the trembling young woman in his arms and licked up her cheek.
"You taste....different, strangely...tasty," he whispered, changing the subject and licking the trail of her cooling blood. More had flowed out and he laughed against the fresh wound. Chantel lifted his head away from her neck and gasped in pain.
"Marcel! No more...please...no more."
He raised an eyebrow and smacked her cheek. Chantel yelled and clutched the bruise. Marcel glared down at her, fiery anger in his eyes as he pulled her hair so that her neck was exposed to the fullest.
"My little Chantel...shhhh," he whispered, pulling out a pocket knife and putting it at the base of her neck.
"Marcel!" She yelled, trying to get out of the position he had her in. The tears had streamed down her cheeks and down her neck. The open wound had stopped bleeding so he titled her head back.
"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, closing her eyes tightly.
"Tasting you." He replied.
"I mean....after all, you do this sort of thing all the time, don't you? You should be used to the pain!" He laughed menacingly and started making a long split along her neck with the dull blade. She screamed louder, her blood gushing and spilling down her body as he lapped it all up, sucking and nipping the tender flesh between his lips.
"Marcel!! Please, I beg of you stop this! I hurt so much!" she whimpered out. He only laughed, drinking the blood from the open wound.
"Mm you love that don't you bitch?" he laughed, making the wound deeper with his knife. She smacked him and instantly she was dropped, landing on her back. She screamed holding onto her neck, trying to back away. Marcel only smirked and casually walked over to her following her crawling.
"Chantel, look at you. You're bleeding everywhere! Clean it up won't you?" He put his hands in his pockets and stepped on her stomach.
"God Marcel, no more! I promise ill be good!" She moved his foot off of her and sat upwards on her knees.
"Oh your damn right you're gonna be good." He licked his lips and gripped the base of her now healing neck.
"Clean this up." He whispered seductively as he forced her head down into the bloody mess. Chantel held herself up, looking down at her cold blood, which had puddled around them. She bit her lip and looked up at him.
"Ill get a rag and-" soon she was interrupted, and he smacked her.
"Wrong!" he smirked wider and pressed her face into the blood.
"I want you to lick it up...lick it all up so the floors are spotless," Marcel commanded, laughing as she started sobbing lightly again.
"I'm going to get sick if I do that!" She yelled as he mashed her cheek against the floor.
"Do it now you wench!" He yelled, this time pressing his weight on her head. Chantel yelled in frustration as she stuck out her tongue and licked up a small trail. She cringed, tasting the essence of her own blood. It made her sick to her stomach as she did a few more licks.
"That's it...make sure it's nice and clean." He watched her, brushing his hair out of his face. Chantel cringed and soon held onto her stomach.
"Marcel!" she yelled before she vomited over the mess. She simply couldn't take the taste of her own blood; she couldn't take the blood...she couldn't do it any longer. Marcel shook his head and sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Damn, Chantel. Guess you have a bigger mess to clean. Better be hungry!" He laughed as pressed her down again. "Lick it all up!" he yelled, lust and anticipation in his eyes. Chantel screamed and yelled, being pushed into her own remains.
"Wahhh! Marcel for the love of Lucifer please stop this!" She was in so much pain, her body weak, her blood flowing as she gripped onto the floors. The blood and remains of her days lunch covered her hands. She stuck out her tongue, but didn't dare move.
Things had never been this way before. Marcel had never asked this of her before. Why now?
"Don't you love me anymore Marcel?"
To be continued...
(c) T&WF
Too boring...
