I am so glad you could join us for the 2022 Monster Ball. You just came from Mistress Brighton’s Haunted Powder Room, a delicious and decadent tale indeed. Now settle in and get comfortable, because I am going to share a little erotic horror story about the true nature of vampires   

The Truth About Vampires

I wanted to set the record straight. Over the centuries there have been a lot of misinformation out there regarding me and mine, and it’s time that you learn the truth. You see, back when the humans began whispering about my kind, society was much less… cultured than it is these days, where decadence and depravity can be celebrated like the virtues they are. Back when the villagers began whispering about our kind in hushed tones to each other, lest they bring upon our wrath down on their heads.

Plus, these mortals are so scared of their own bodies, over the delight scents and tastes and textures their bodies can create. They have sought to hide these things from each other, dressing themselves up and covering their beautiful bodies, trapping in their lovely scents and juices, hiding the truth of our existence from one another until they created a new reality. The mortal men seem particular frightened of the power their female counterparts and have sought to oppress the power of the feminine for centuries. And for centuries us vampires have stood in their way, and for centuries more we will continue to stand.

Their women are such delightful creatures too, sweetly scented, tangy on our tongues.

Their sweet juices are among the most treasured of the mortals by my kind, often difficult to come by due to the clumsiness of male males in the species. Often, my kind must spend considerable time in coaxing out that candied juice with our tongues and fingers in order to fill our tummies. They are so soft, with the most delightful curves, so sweetly dispositioned and kind. My species have long since vowed to protect them from the mortal men who seek to take their sexual pleasures and bind it up tightly out of cowardly fear of their power.

Now, I am honest with myself enough to acknowledge that my kind may have inadvertently played a role in their oppression. See, my kind very much enjoyed the figure of the sweetly scented delightful curvy mortal woman, so much so that we closely modeled our own evolution after them. Of course, we do tend to have some differences- due to our nature, the creaminess of our flawless skin is intensified, our crowns of hair luscious and long, our eyes shine with an intensity and clarity you rarely find within the mortal species. We heal, don’t scar, and our own nectar is absolutely intoxicating to the species itself. Truly, a taste of us on the tongue of a mortal renders them overcome with lust and malleable to our wills.

So how is it that the vampire species has impacted the freedom of the mortal woman?

Well, here’s the real story the species you now know as vampires. Contrary to popular opinion, we actually do not to feed on the crimson life force flowing through the mortals’ veins. But the humans, ever plagued by their fearful sensibilities and deceitful polite manners designed to dim the most colorful of flames, had to change the story to hide the naughty truth behind my species most favored diet- we suck the sweet and salty juices direct from the cocks of their mortal men. It’s that creamy, frothy delight that ensures our survival and fills our tummies so we can live.

When the stories of our feedings first began being discussed around campfires in the wild, long before settled villages began to crop up, the menfolk discussed my kind in hushed terrified tones, confessing to each other that they too had been visited by radiant, intoxicatingly beautiful woman whose eyes could mesmerize and whose nectar could infatuate to near madness. The men confessed their weakness in faltering voices, so filled with shame at their inability to control themselves- to be so helpless, so powerless at just the sight of our naked bodies, our parted lips, at the scent of our perfume. It was they, these cowardly men, who changed the story to make us desire slightly less shameful than seed we coax from their cocks so easily, with barely a touch or a murmur.

The weak mortal men became filled with rage at their weakness before vampires

Do you know why they are so shame-filled, my sweet readers? Because the men are such easy prey for us, sweetlings. The men, these delusional creatures who paint themselves as virtuous examples of integrity and self-control, why they go weak in their knees at barely a crooked finger. They tormented themselves over their weak-kneed response to our touch, our soft tongues, the suckling of our sealed mouths over their most intimate places. These men, so delusional in their conviction that they were powerful beings, were forced to confront the fact that their power was but an illusion, as once we were in possession of their juicy cocks and sweet & savory seed, they were but pawns for our pleasure.  Their eagerness at serving themselves up on a platter for any sweetly scented female is positively mewling, and nothing enrages the males of the species than being shown as the weakling cowards they are. It was at that point they conspired to hide their shame by perverting the legend of my people, the Vampyresses, now known simply as vampires.

Which brings us to the conclusion of our sordid tale… or is it the beginning?

So the next time you settle down for a fun tale of vampires on some distant Halloween years from now, I want you to know the truth. I want you to know that the legends of us sucking on necks to claim our eternal life is a convenient lie to ensure the male species remains protected from their own weakness. It is not their necks in which we suck from the eternal fountain of life, but instead their juicy cocks. And before you go feeling bad for these desperate and weak souls, know that their desperation to hide their shameful truth is eclipsed only by the desperation in which they thrust their cocks down our throats once we appear to them in the night.

Matter of fact, dear reader, step inside with me, here, into the stable, and I will show you my stable of mortal men. I turn from you, with a saucy grin, and beckon you forward into the stable. You see the men lined up in their own individual stables, hanging from the ceiling by their wrists at the perfect length for a nice sip of their eternal nectar. I bring you into a stable of your own, and with a gentle crook of my finger, you feel yourself being carried forward, a victim of your own lust. You don’t even fight as I put your hands in the shackles and remain docile as can be as you are hoisted in the air. You feel the lust burning through your system, seeping away the last remnants of your will…and with it, your freedom. As my soft lips close around your engorged member, and you feel my fangs erupt from my gums, you know that you will never taste freedom again.

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Dear Reader, I hope you enjoyed this erotic horror story, though I must confess a bit of it is based on a true story. The weakness of men, their inability to exert their will when their cocks are nestled between the soft lips of an enchantress is no tall tale, is it? Stay tuned all month long for more Halloween inspired erotica designed to hit that sweet spot. If you want to book an individual session with me, and you do, you can email me at becky@enchantrixempire.com or connect with me on Skype for naughty one way camera sessions, phone calls, or sexy texting. Check out my product store for some truly delicious treats and erotic audios. If you are interested in a custom erotic audio, I would be happy to make your dreams cum true- just contact me directly.