The Taste of Fear

The Taste of Fear

I had been hunting for a few hours when I saw the one I wanted. He was in a small group with two others friends who were posturing and checking out the women with predatory looks. They were all young, early twenties, and I took them to be frat boys or the like close to graduating. They were all lean and muscular, but they had that slightly unfinished looked to them. The one I wanted was a little taller and more developed than the other two, and something in the way he carried himself said that he was more intelligent than they were as well.  His friends deferred to him like lesser animals to the pack leader, and it was clear to me that he knew this and enjoyed the confidence it gave him. But tonight, he wasn’t the apex predator. I was, and I was going to make him my prey.

I had been watching him for some time before I let him see me. As he looked around the bar, tracking several of the women he was interested in, I willed him to see me; he turned his head and his gaze settled on me for a moment. I looked directly at him, openly and without blinking, and smiled slightly.  I liked the blueness of his eyes. He looked back for a moment and then turned away to look elsewhere. I repeated this little game with him several more times over the next half-hour or so, always pulling his attention to me and then letting it go after a moment. I could tell that he was becoming uncomfortable, and it wasn’t just because of my obvious come-on. He was clearly used to being dominant, and deep down inside he instinctively knew that I was more powerful than he was. It’s a natural reaction that the more intelligent of the living have when they see me. I can mask that aura if I choose, but tonight I wasn’t going to. I wanted him to be nervous.

I had toyed with him long enough that his two friends had noticed me as well. The shorter of his two friends elbowed him and said something to him with a smirk. My senses are sharper than a living person’s, but the comment was still drowned out by the dance music playing. It didn’t matter. From my prey’s reaction, it was obvious enough that his friend was teasing him about my attention. He glanced at me briefly and then pulled away and went out onto the dance floor.  

He was obviously planning on moving in on one of women he was pursuing, so I gave him a little time to try and make contact before I moved on him. People tend to get out of my way without even realizing it, so it was easy to cross the dance floor toward him, and he didn’t see me coming because he was trying to dance up to a young brunette in a tight skirt. She was showing sign of willingness, so like most men that age he was focused entirely on her. I got within a few feet of him, and danced slowly for a moment, feeling the beat of the music and admiring the curve of his ass inside his pants. Then I reached out and willed him to turn and look at me. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he saw me. Annoyance flashed across his face for a moment, but then he began to get pulled into me. It’s not hard for me to make myself appealing to the living; it’s really just an extension of the willpower that animates me. It’s one of the things that makes hunting easy. It didn’t matter that he was straight; he found me compelling nonetheless.  He just looked at me as I looked at him. After centuries of doing this, I’ve become very good at reading the emotions of the living, to a point where they sometimes think I’m psychic. He was trying to understand what he found appealing in me, and perhaps why he was suddenly no longer interested in the woman he’d been hot for a moment ago. There was that hint of discomfort as well.

I just looked at him for a moment, openly appraising him. He was tall, about 6 feet, with short brown hair that he’d spiked up slightly with gel. He was handsome enough, with a square jaw, and a face that was normally full of confidence. His shoulders were broad and strong, and his pecs and biceps bulged through the tight black t-shirt he was wearing. He was wearing a pair of tan cargo pants that hung on his hips and dipped down in the middle toward his crotch, emphasizing the tautness of his lower belly. He smelled slightly of sweat.

“What’s your name?” I asked, as I stood in front of him, moving slightly to the music.  

“Umm, Scott,” he said, his discomfort clear.

I smiled a little more broadly. “I’m Sebastian.”

He looked at my face for a moment, and then straightened himself up to his full height. He puffed out his chest, and spoke, using a voice that was deeper than his normal voice. His attempts to intimidate me were amusing.  “Hey, look. I’m flattered by the attention, but I’m not interested.” A moment later he added, “I’m straight.”

I nodded, but held onto him with my willpower. He stood there, looking at me, unable to pull away. After a few moments, I smiled more and said, “If you’re not interested, why are you still looking at me?” I could tell he was asking himself the same question, and not finding an answer. His confusion was evident, and he was becoming a little more nervous. His chest deflated slightly, and he remained silent, unable to offer any convincing explanation. I looked directly into his bright blue eyes.  “Let’s go someplace else and talk.”  

With that kind of eye contact, very few people have the force of will to deny me. He tried, because he understood where this was leading, and he knew he didn’t want what I was offering him. But after a brief moment of trying to fight it, he nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.” As we left the bar, I glanced back at his friends, who were looking at us and talking to each other with puzzled expressions.  

Outside the bar, the air was much cooler, and it was much quieter. I have never liked dance bars because they offer such an assault on my senses, so exiting was immediately relaxing. I could hear Scott breathing. I looked at him, and relished his confusion. He didn’t understand why he was coming with me, and he didn’t understand why he found me attractive. I walked over to my BMW, unlocking it before we got there, and climbed in. He was impressed with the car, and for a second his attention was off his fears. He got in and ran his hands over the leather.  “Nice car,” he said.  “These are expensive.”

“Thanks. I make a lot of money.”

“What do you do?” 

“I’m in business,” I replied. While I drove, we talked, and for a while he lost track of what was happening.  As I guessed, he was in his senior year of college, working on a business degree, so we talked about his interests, and his confidence began to recover. He started trying to play me, trying to sell himself to me as a prospective employee. I was a little impressed. He had a strong personality. I was going to enjoy what was coming.

We pulled up in the parking lot of my condo building, one of the most expensive in town. As we headed to the elevator, the guard at the security post grinned at me; he was used to my bringing “boyfriends” back for the evening. I grinned back, but Scott missed it. It wasn’t until we entered the elevator that he remembered that things weren’t right.  I stood across the elevator from him and just looked, running my gaze over his body. He tried to look casual, but his nervousness was obvious. He kept crossing his arms, as if that might make him look tough, and then uncrossing them, as if that seemed too confrontational. 

When we got to my apartment, he was momentarily distracted again, looking around enviously at the furnishings and artwork. But I only turned on one lamp, and let the moonlight flooding in through the windows provide the rest of the lighting. I see as well in the dark as I do under artificial lighting, so it didn’t bother me, and it made my intentions even more blatant. I was enjoying playing with him. It made the hunt much more intriguing. After centuries of doing this every week, I preferred a little drama in my feeding, just to keep from feeling bored. In the silence between us, the tension was mounting.

I let Scott look around for a while and just watched him move about the room. After several minutes, he mustered up his courage again. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve misled you. You seem like an interesting guy. But…but like I said, I’m straight. I’m not into guys at all.”

“Really.” I closed in on him slowly. “Then you should go.” I undid my tie and pulled it off, setting it down on an end table.

He nodded. “Yeah.  I’m really sorry.” But he couldn’t pull himself away from me. I wouldn’t let him. He just looked at me as I walked toward him, unbuttoning my shirt. I’ve had a lot of time to perfect my body, and I’m naturally pale. Some people have told me I look like a Greek statue. As I opened my shirt, he just stared at me. By this time I was close enough that I could hear his heart beating, and I was starting to get hungry. I could smell his sweat, but it was mixed with the smell of lust as well. His cargo pants started to tent out. He was succumbing to my magnetism, but at the same time he knew this wasn’t what he wanted. His fear aroused my appetite even further.

“Take off your shirt,” I said quietly.

He swallowed hard. “No.” I was impressed that he was able to resist at all.

I looked into his eyes, and said it again, only slightly louder. “Take off your shirt.”

He hesitated, trying to fight the compulsion, but he slid his hands down to his waistband, and slowly pulled the shirt off over his head. The leanness of his body and the smoothness of his movement were pleasant to watch. He didn’t quite have the ripped abs of a model, but if he kept up his workouts, it wouldn’t be long. He dropped the t-shirt on the floor and looked at me, unable to hide his fear. I smiled more, not bothering to hide my predator nature any more. His eyes widened, and he struggled to pull away, but by this time my will was wrapped firmly around his. His will was strong, stronger than I had anticipated, but in the end he was only human. And I am not. He was going to do everything I wanted, and it was going to scare him. And I was going to enjoy his fear

I ran my hand over his belly, savoring his body heat and the tightness of his muscles. As I touched him, he flinched, perhaps because I am colder than a person should be. But as I caressed him, some of his resistance faded. He began to find it pleasurable. After three centuries, I’ve learned a great deal about how to please people. I rolled one of his nipples between my fingers and pinched it hard. He opened his mouth slightly, but didn’t make any sound. He had moved from general resistance to small resistances, like many before him had done.

I leaned in and pressed my mouth against his. Again, he hesitated, his reluctance so strong I could taste it, but after a moment he began to respond. As his tongue entered my mouth, I drew it across the point of one of my fangs, and I felt him shudder. The strongest tool in my hunting arsenal is that fact that my bite does not bring pain, but pleasure, and even a small scratch like that was enjoyable.  

As we stood there kissing, he began to run his hands over my body. I broke off the kiss and just let him touch me for a while. He was fascinated by my body, like a child playing with fire. He stroked my belly, testing how solid it was, and ran his fingers up to my chest, admiring my pecs. As he did this, I continued undressing. I kicked off my shoes, undid my belt, and stepped out of my pants. Then I pulled off my underwear and stood in front of him, totally naked. He stared at my erection and then reached out to stroke it. The heat of his hand on my cool flesh was intense and I responded by slowly thrusting my hips toward him

I tugged on the drawstrings of his pants, and they fell down about his ankles, snagging momentarily on his cock, which was sticking out through the fly of his briefs. I slid my hands over his belly, and leaned in to start kissing my way down his chest. I ran my lips over his nipple and bit down enough to draw blood. He gasped with pleasure, while I savored the blood, which tasted of his desire and his fear. The animal side of me wanted more right then and there, but I was determined to draw this out. I hadn’t milked his feelings enough.

I nibbled my way down his belly, nipping him with my fangs enough to draw repeated gasps from him. I pulled down his briefs and knelt in front of him. He had a beautiful cock. It was not the nicest I’d ever seen, but it was more than adequate. I ran my tongue around the head and heard him murmur encouragement. I began to slide my mouth up and down over his shaft, scraping it slightly with my fangs. He shuddered with pleasure that he’d never experienced before, and began to groan. “Yeah, take it. Suck it,” he grunted. His confidence was coming back. He was used to having women blow him, and it was making him feel like he was somehow in control. He was rapidly approaching orgasm, so I pulled back and stood up. My pleasure depended on drawing out his as much as possible.

He looked surprised, but before he could say anything, I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. He immediately knew what was coming, and he tried to resist, but I was much stronger than he was, so he quickly wound up with his face in front of my cock. “Suck it,” I said. Again he hesitated. He knew he wasn’t supposed to want this, but his lust was running high. “Suck it,” I repeated, more aggressively. I pulled his head toward my crotch, and in a few moments he opened up and took my cock in. I began to fuck his face, savoring both the moist heat of his mouth on my cock and the dominance I had over him.  

My own desires were becoming too strong to resist much longer. I allowed him to pull away, and he stood up.  He looked at me with a mixture of desire and terror so strong I knew I had to slake my hungers. I grabbed him and turned him around, bending him over the leather couch slightly. He had a beautifully round, well-formed ass covered with light fur, but I wasn’t in the mood to admire it. Sliding one hand in front of his crotch to hold him in place, I pressed my cock up against his ass. He began to struggle. “No!  I don’t want…”  I pushed into him and he grunted in pain. “Oh, God, no!” He tried to pull away, but his efforts just roused me further.

After a moment, though, he stopped fighting and began to move with me, pressing back to meet my thrusts. The heat of his body, the smell of his sweat, and the pounding of his heart were too much. Wrapping one arm around his chest, I pulled him to me and penetrated him again, sinking my fangs into his neck. The taste of his blood was full of lust and resistance and terror, some of the sweetest I’ve ever drunk. To me, this is the essence of sex, the taking not the giving. Fresh blood, with its life-giving power, is the most erotic thing there is, and as it flowed into me, I felt as alive as the undead possibly can. 

As I sucked his fluid in, he began to buck wildly, shouting wordlessly from the primal pleasure and fear he felt. Orgasm, as they say, is the little death, and this was the little death mixed with the big one. The living can sometimes sense what the moment of annihilation is coming, and when I cultivate it properly, the mixture of the emotions plays into the blood and I feel it too. He came, splattering his cum over my hand and the back of the couch. Then he relaxed, and let me drink my fill.

I wanted to drink him dry, because his fear-spiced blood tasted so sweet, but over the years I have learned to fight those urges. Too many dead bodies cause trouble, so I eventually pulled myself away as I felt the first hint that his pulse was beginning to weaken. After I was done, I laid him on the couch and began to clean myself up. He was pale from blood loss and exhaustion. After a few moments, he groaned and opened his eyes. He looked at me groggily for a moment before his eyes focused on me. “…What are you?”

“What do you think I am?”

He looked at me and ran his hand up to the two small holes on his neck. “A vampire.”

Again, he impressed me. Most people are overwhelmed by my feeding and unwilling to admit what was really happening. They normally construct all types of strange explanation to cover up the reality. But his mind was sharp enough to cut through the normal denials that people offered themselves. I nodded. I could see his fear beginning to recede. Now he knew what had really happened, so at least he had something concrete to focus on.

“What we did, it was unlike anything I’ve ever done.”

I smiled and allowed my fangs to show a little. “I should think so.” 

“Why me?”

“You’re attractive, intelligent, and confident. I like that combination.” After a moment, I said, “You’re not so scared of me now.”

He nodded. “I guess I know where I fit in the pecking order. You’re top dog.” What he said next startled me.  “I want to work for you.”

I looked at him, searching his face for an explanation.  He was completely serious. “Why?”

He looked around for a moment. “I want more of what we just did. You’ve got wealth and power, and I want those things too. And maybe eventually you’ll teach me some of your tricks. I can be an asset for you. As you said, I’m attractive, intelligent, and confident.  You could do a lot worse than me.”  

I almost laughed. He was trying to play me again, but this time he was being honest, and he know that he didn’t have much to offer. I thought about it for a moment. I did like him in a way, and it had been a long time since I’d taken someone on like this. If it didn’t work out, I could always get rid of him. I nodded. “All right, but there are two things you need to understand. Firstly, once I take you on, there’s no backing out. This deal will last the rest of your life.”

He didn’t take very long to agree. “I already realized that. You don’t seem like the sort of guy who lets people leave against his will.”

“Secondly, if you agree to work for me, you will be mine, like a slave or a piece of property. You’ll do whatever I tell you to, and be whatever I want you to be.”

He grew quiet, and looked at me for some time. There was still a current of fear running underneath his confidence and his desire. At least he looked me in the eye and said, “Okay. I accept.”

I smiled broadly. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

4 thoughts on “The Taste of Fear

  1. Wow. You can really write! Never been into the Vampire thing, but I could be converted if there was more like this.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for the kind words! I’ve got a mostly finished vampire novel that I wrote from Scott’s perspective.


  2. Interesting that when reading this, my start in BDSM as a sub/slave began eerily similar to this. One night changed everything for the rest of my life.


    1. I assume he wasn’t a vampire…


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