Chained In The Vampire's Dungeon

  CHAINED IN THE VAMPIRE’S DUNGEON

  by Neneh Gordon

  Copyright 2012 Neneh Gordon

  French Letters Press

  Discover other titles by Neneh Gordon at Amazon.com

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Adult Reading Material – not intended for those under the age of 18.

  Chained In The Vampire’s Dungeon

  Some people like blondes or brunettes. Some people have a preference for foreign accents. Personally, I’m wet for vampires.

  It’s always been like that for me. When my school friends would hide behind the cushions and scream at old horror movies, I’d sit there squirming for a completely different reason, wondering what it would be like to have that tall, dark monster sink his teeth into my neck. For a long time, that was as close as I ever got to making my dreams a reality. My parents were pretty strict, so it wasn’t as if I had the chance to visit any vamp bars. Not until I’d left home anyway.

  I remember a night not long after I’d gone to university when I got all dressed up in my only pair of heels and a low-cut dress I borrowed from my room-mate. I’d got it into my head to go to Positively O – the only bar I’d heard of that catered to a vamp clientele. After I got dressed and did my make-up, I walked a groove in the bedroom floor as I tried to talk myself into leaving the house. I got as far as the corner of my street before I panicked and ran home.

  Part of the attraction that vampires hold is the sense of danger. That night, my fear got the better of my lust. I’d spent my whole adolescence fantasising about meeting a cold, pale stranger, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t ready.

  After that, I tried to make myself forget about men with fangs. I went on a few dates, but I just couldn’t get serious with human guys. In the end, I decided I was destined to be alone. It wasn’t so bad. I bought a vibrator for the horny nights and I had friends to keep me busy in the daytime. I carried on like that for years. Graduation came and went, and one day I found I was an accountant with my own house and a smart little car that I owned outright. From the outside, my life must have looked like a dream come true. But every night when I went to bed, I went alone. In the moments before sleep, when I had no work or acquaintances to distract me, my mind’s eye settled on the image of my perfect man.

  When I thought of him, he always looked the same. He was tall – at least six foot, with shoulder-length dark hair that he wore swept back from his face. I was glad of that. It meant I could see his beauty more clearly. He had grey eyes that were paler than any eyes you’d ever see in nature. His face had a strong masculine jaw and full lips that surely should have been a luscious pink, but were drained of all colour. He sprang up in my imagination fully formed. I mean, the detail about his bloodless lips was something I would never have thought of. It wasn’t like creating a dream lover – more like remembering someone I’d loved a long time ago. There were many nights when I held that picture of him in my head as I touched myself. I imagined his unnatural eyes on me, watching me throw off the bedclothes and spread my legs as the moonlight filtered in through the curtains.

  That was my favourite fantasy when I was masturbating. I’d take all my clothes off and get into bed, covering myself with just a sheet. Then I’d run my hands over my breasts, pretending my vampire lover was fondling me. He’d have cold hands. All the better to raise goosebumps on my skin. I thought of him lying on top of me, pinning me down with his cold body and penetrating me with his cock and his teeth at the same time. It was easy to get myself off like that. All I had to do was conjure him up and my fingers would do the rest.

  There was one night when I arrived home from work with him already on my mind. It was audit season, so work was one long waking nightmare. At the end of another long day with no time for lunch, I shovelled down a takeaway pizza and ran myself what I hoped would be a relaxing bath. By the time the bathroom had filled with scented steam and I’d lit all the candles I could find, the stresses of the day were starting to slide away. I decided to make a night of it. I’d have a night in with my fingers and my imagination.

  When the bath was ready, I fetched myself a glass of wine, took off my work suit and sank into the warm water. I’ve never been one for bubbles, but I’d poured a generous measure of patchouli oil into the water and the scent filled my nose as I slid down under the water line. A sigh escaped me and I put the working week firmly in the past. If only I had a lover to massage my shoulders.

  I took a drink of cabernet and put the glass down at the end of the bath. There was no lover, but I could pretend. He’d strip out of his dark clothes, showing me every inch of his deathly pale body. Then he’d kneel behind me at the head of the bath and lay his hands on either side of my neck. I leaned my head to the side as I pictured him rubbing the tension out of me with his strong, elegant fingers. When he’d kneaded my flesh into submission, he’d rise and step into my bath. I raised my hand to my breast, stroking my wet skin the way that he would. With my other hand, I parted the lips of my cunt and imagined that it was his finger probing gently inside me.

  My breath came faster and I told myself it was his sighs I was hearing. It was his finger and thumb that took hold of my clit – not mine. My pussy felt swollen and desperate for more. My hands would have to be enough.

  A draft blew through the bathroom and the flickering candlelight brought me back to myself. I took my hand from between my legs. Nights spent alone stretch out beyond all laws of physics. I didn’t want to climax too soon and spend the rest of the evening praying for sleep that wouldn’t come.

  I finished my bath, continuing the game by pretending that my vampire lover was wielding the sponge that washed me clean. In the end, it was the drop in temperature that forced me out of the water. I wrapped myself in a towel and went to the bedroom, turning up the thermostat on the way. There was a chill in the air that lifted the hairs on my arms. It hadn’t been remotely cold before my bath.

  Sitting at the dressing table, I brushed out my hair as I waited for the temperature to rise. I watched myself in the mirror and tried to appraise my looks the way a man would. I was one of the few women at work to wear her hair long. Maybe they thought it would be seen as a sign of weakness. I didn’t care. I was good at my job and I liked the way my pale brown hair looked when I shook it loose and let it fall down my back. Both of my real lovers had commented on it. One of them had even wrapped his fist in it to pull my head back when we made love. That was something I had filed away in my fantasy collection. It was definitely the sort of thing my vamp would do to me.

  With all the knots teased out of my hair, I leaned forward and examined my face in the mirror. I didn’t look bad for my age. Full lips that still held on to some of the lipstick I’d put on that morning. Good cheekbones. Pretty brown eyes, or so I’d been told. Unhitching my towel, I stood up to cast an eye over my body. Pleasantly curvy was what sprang to mind. I wasn’t one of those women who fretted about being bigger than the stick girls on the front of magazines. I was average – not overweight, not particularly athletic. Soft and round and inviting. I passed the fuckability test. It wasn’t as if I d
idn’t get any offers. But none of them were from men who could leave me with two little puncture wounds on the side of my neck.

  Oh well. I could dream. My thoughts returned to my fantasy vamp and my clit began to tingle. It was warmer again. I didn’t need to worry about getting under the covers. I watched myself run my hands over my body, lingering on my hardening nipples and getting ever closer to my aching pussy. As I slid my fingers over the hair between my legs I caught sight of movement at the window.

  I snatched up the towel that I’d dropped and drew it around my nakedness, my heart pounding in my throat. Was there someone out there? My brain ran away with all sorts of scenarios that a woman on her own tries not to think about. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. I’d spend the whole night imagining the worst if I didn’t go to the window. As I got closer to the glass, a cold settled over the room and I shivered. I glimpsed something moving out there. It was too big to be a bird, but what else could it be at my first floor window? Stepping closer, I held my breath and peered out into the gloom.

  Something flashed past, inches away from the glass, making me squeal in surprise. I wasn’t imagining things. There really was something out there. I stumbled backwards and told myself it was just an owl or a bat, but the explanation didn’t sink deeper than the surface of my mind. I wanted to believe it, but I didn’t feel the truth of it. What I did feel scared me.

  A face glided into view and hung at the window. Pale and unmistakably masculine. The same slicked back hair and pale grey eyes that I’d been imagining for so long. I tripped on the edge of the rug and fell to the floor. Panic made me scrabble for the shelter of my bed and I crouched behind it. I was seeing things. I was lonely and I’d spent too much time on my own. It explained everything. I’d been fantasising for so long that I’d lost my grip on reality.

  But I knew what was happening now. When I looked up over the top of the bed, there’d be nothing at the window. I’d finish my bottle of wine and the alcohol would let me escape into sleep.

  I kneeled up, my heart beat deafening.

  He was still there. His gaze pierced the glass and drove right into the heart of me. My vampire lover had come for me after all these years. The rational part of me dismissed that as nonsense, but I found myself getting to my feet anyway. I went to the window, pulled in by the cold fire in his grey eyes. Standing at the window, I stared at him, soaking up every detail. There was nothing about him that was any different from the vamp in my head. He looked at me with the same hunger I’d seen in my dreams.

  “Invite me in.”

  His lips didn’t move. I heard him speak inside my head as clearly as if he’d been standing beside me. I turned the catch and pushed the sash window up to let him in. Cold night air poured into the room. I crossed my arms to offer some protection against the wind, but my teeth chattered anyway. He hung in the air outside, not moving a muscle.

  “Come in.” I’d forgotten. I had to say the words before he could enter.

  He rushed in through the open window with such speed and fluidity that I didn’t see him do it. I jumped as the window fell closed by itself, banging loudly in its frame.

  I didn’t have time to recover. He spun me around and took me into his arms. I had to look up to meet his gaze. The power in his eyes sent a shockwave all the way through my body and started a flood of moisture between my legs. I belonged to him. He didn’t have to say another word. I was his to handle as he saw fit.

  Standing in his embrace was like standing in front of an open refrigerator. The cold insinuated itself into my flesh and bones, raising prickles on my skin and making my nipples stand up hard against his chest.

  With incredible speed, he lifted me, opened the window and flew me through it.

  I clung to him as the cold night air hit me and he took us higher. My towel fell off and I watched it fall far below us, tumbling in the dark until it disappeared from view. Only his arms stopped me from going the same way. I tightened my hold around his neck, shivering as I clung to him.

  We flew on over the streets I knew so well and out into more unfamiliar territory. It wasn’t long before the noise of the city was behind us and we approached a huge old house on the boundary where urban became rural. It was beautiful. The moonlight shone down on the limestone mansion, turning it into a shimmering dream house. It was his. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. I longed to see inside, to walk the corridors and study the ancestral portraits that must line the walls. It was that sort of house.

  My vampire slowed his flight and brought us lower, swooping in through an open window just as he had at my house. It was pitch black inside. Still holding me in his arms, he strode across the room and kicked open a door. A shaft of moonlight gave enough light for me to see bare wooden stairs leading down. It was musty down there, and even darker than the room we were in.

  He half-ran, half-flew downstairs with me and set me on my feet in the gloom. I felt cold stone beneath my feet and shivered again. The door at the top of the stairs closed with a slow creak and the last of the light disappeared. The vampire’s eyes glowed almost white in the dark. My heart lurched and my pussy grew wetter. The lack of light may have left me practically blind, but I knew he could see me. His inhuman eyes moved around me in a predatory circle and I felt his gaze assessing my naked body.

  Then his bright grey eyes disappeared. He must have closed them. I could feel him close by. I was shaking with the cold, but his presence gave an extra lift to the downy hairs on my skin. Without those eyes, I was left helpless in the dark with nothing to orient myself by. Primal fear took me over. This was his house, his cellar. No one knew where I was. When we’d flown in, I’d seen how remote the place was. No one would hear me if I screamed for help.

  My breathing deepened and I fought down my rising panic. He was the vamp from my fantasies. He wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Hello?”

  There was no reply, but a warm orange light came on. A bare light bulb in the corner of the room. The vampire stood beneath it, tall and imposing. It was hard to look at anything but his luminous skin. I stared t him, but details of the room crept into my awareness from the corners of my eyes. Everything was bare brick and concrete. My breath misted in front of me, condensing in the cold air. It was a squareish room with no furniture except a metal cabinet behind the stairs we’d come down.

  He took a step towards me, his eyes boring into mine.

  “You are home now.” His thoughts passed straight into my consciousness.

  Home. He meant to keep me there. The idea made my insides liquefy. I didn’t know if it was fear or excitement.

  He stepped to one side and showed me what he’d been standing in front of. A bright metal ring had been fixed into the wall. Lengths of chain hung from it and pooled on the floor. On top of the pile of links were four manacles. All of it was shiny and new.

  For me. He’d prepared the room especially for me.

  He nodded and held out his hand. If I took it, I would be submitting to his will.

  I looked up the stairs at the door. He hadn’t tried to stop me leaving. Would he let me walk up those steps and go? His face gave nothing away. Without breaking eye contact, I took two steps towards the stairs. He watched me, but made no move. I could go home. I took another step, then stopped.

  What was I going home to? An empty house and an empty bed. I belonged with him. He’d been in my thoughts for more years than I’d shared with any boyfriend. I went to him and offered him my wrists. He lifted them to his cold lips, one after the other, then fastened them in the manacles at the ends of the chains. He helped me sit down on the floor, then chained my ankles too. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable, but I could tell it would be if I stayed like that for any length of time.

  Arranging the chains around me on the floor, I sat back against the wall. He kneeled beside me, stroking his fingers across my forehead and down my cheek. I leaned into his freezing touch and my teeth began to chatter.

  “I know you are cold. I want
you to be cold.”

  I nodded. This was his domain.

  His fingers trailed along my jawline and down my throat. I held my breath, sure that he would pierce me with his fangs. He ran his nail along my collarbone, then down my breast to my nipple. I flinched. I couldn’t help it. He went lower, moving down my belly and down to the top of my thigh. I wanted to feel his heatless fingers between my legs, but he only teased me, coming close to my bikini line, then brushing his way along my inner thigh instead. I gasped, my pussy twitching with need. His eyes told me that he knew what I wanted. But he was in charge, not me.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I did as he asked, the chains clinking as I moved my feet. Drawing up my knees, I spread them wide and he came to sit in front of me. He took his time, bending low to have a good look between my legs. Heat blossomed under his gaze. My cunt sent out moisture that spread along my slit.

  He got to his feet and took one of the chains that shackled my ankle. Pulling it taut and straightening my leg, he reached up to fasten it on a hook in the wall so that my foot dangled in the air. I looked around me and saw other hooks. My pulse quickened. What was he going to do to me? He walked round to the other side of me and did the same with my other leg. I put my hands flat on the floor to help me balance. The new position was already making my buttocks ache as they pressed into the hard floor. My pussy felt totally exposed. He’d spread me open to the cold air. He came back in front of me for another look.

  Leaning forward, he stroked his finger along the very top of my thigh. I tensed, willing him to edge over to my pussy. He grazed his fingers upwards instead and took my nipple between his finger and thumb. My breathing quickened as he leaned up between my legs, his leg brushing my clit as he pinched my nipple. He looked me in the eye as he did it, looking for some reaction. Tingles spread out across my breast. My aching clit quivered at his accidental touch. He stared at me and pinched harder.