Dracula’s Bride

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I would willingly turn myself over to Lord Dracula himself, and be his willing slave. The idea of submitting to a vampiric overlord who will gain nourishment from drinking my blood. I would be his bride, let him ravage my body, ravishing me deliciously, sexually. I’m a huntress at heart, and the ability to transform into an apex predator is so alluring I’m soaking fucking wet at just the thought.

Imagine it; it’s late, and the heavy beat of an underground inner city club pulses through your veins. I can smell you, the hormones on you are unmistakable; horny human male. I’m dressed like the Devil in disguise, a seductress of the highest reform. My cunt is wet, and my nipples press hard and pierced through my skin tight leather get up. You spot me from across the room, and I can see the hunger in your eyes. You mistake my desire to taste you for lust; though blood lust is just as intoxicating.

You follow me into the alley, a silly mistake. Mortals are always so trusting; I was. Now, I’ll bite into your veins and use you for my sexual pleasure. I’m draining every last drop of blood from you, making you beg me for breath. Arise as my undead slave, and worship Dracula’s Bride for all eternity.

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