Feature Writer:
Feature Title: Tribute To Nosferatu
Published: 09.11.2024
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: The blissful taste of terrified arousal
Tribute To Nosferatu
Nosferatu couldn’t see the full moon that hung over the cavernous, magisterial caverns that constituted his palace, but the ferocity with which the ice-cold blood in his veins pumped told him that the time had come.
This was the one event he allowed himself to look forward to, the one monthly ritual not calibrated specifically to strike fear into the black, dead souls of his vast entourage.
This one was for him.
It was also for the townsfolk of the nearby village that had once been a prime target for his hungry horde. Some years ago, an enterprising diplomat had finally learned from the failures of would-be heroes, all of whom were now dead and digested, and made a deal with Nosferatu. During every full moon, the town would offer up a willing maiden to quench the vampire lord’s thirst for carnal satisfaction with a woman.
It wasn’t the sex so much as the unique flavor of willing humans that intrigued Nosferatu and prompted him to acquiesce to the deal. His harem was full of she-vampires and other dark beings he could copulate with endlessly and at a moment’s notice. And, of course, he did.
But on a full moon, he needed something more.
Nosferatu, containing his eagerness, emerged from the dark recesses of his private quarters onto a dais that stood at the inner end of a dark, massive, elegantly crafted chamber. He emerged next to his stone throne, in front of which meticulously carved steps led down to a low stone table. The table was decorated with carvings of erotic events and dark figures.
A shriek went up among the vast, demoniacal throng that awaited him. Vampires, werewolves, hags, ogres, and many other hitherto unnamed creatures of darkness gnashed their teach and beat their chests, eager to watch their lord claim what was his. Many of them were already in the throes of orgasmic bliss as they writhed and wailed in piles of orgiastic furor.
Some were eyeing the figure that lay on the stone table, but none would be so stupid as to approach her, much less touch her. In any case, Nosferatu’s elite bodyguard and the most talented of his harem girls encircled the stone table, alert lest a hyper-aroused werewolf make a lunge for the human woman.
Nosferatu controlled his pace as he glided down the stone steps, his black silk cloak billowing around him. This pace was difficult to maintain; the woman’s fragrance had been threatening to break his composure since he entered the chamber. From the moment her scent met his hypersensitive nostrils he could taste the qualities that had earned his approval when no other offerings had.
He had no interest in supple, nubile young virgins. He needed a human who had grown into her curves, who had toyed with the impulses of her lust for long enough to know how to employ them to great effect. He fed on both her fear and her arousal. Her terrified pleasure was his intoxicant, and only she got the mixture just right.
Nosferatu’s hungry gaze took in the form that lay on her back before him on the stone table. She was raven-haired and fair-skinned, with full feminine curves and delicious flesh that practically begged to be fondled, tasted, used. The thin, leather straps wrapping her body were purely decorative; they did nothing to contain her flesh or cover her most sensitive womanly parts.
The woman’s wrists and ankles were shackled to the sides of the table, but Nosferatu had no use for these. With one flick of his wrist, her bonds were released and they clattered to the floor. He leaned over the table to inspect his prize more closely.
The woman’s dark eyes stared up at him with the perfect blend of fright and lust. Her breath came in short, fast gasps, causing her bare, heavy breasts to heave tantalizingly. Her fingers were white as they gripped the stone surface. Against her own will, she shifted uneasily in anticipation.
Nosferatu could not resist a diabolical grin when his eyes reached her groin and his somber eyes were filled with undead vitality as they adopted a glossy black sheen. The woman’s bare cunt and inner thighs were already dripping with liquid anticipation.
Lesser vampiric beings thirsted for blood. He, the lord of the dark, thirsted for this: terrified arousal.
Nosferatu continued his circuit around the table until he reached the woman’s feet. The smell of her wetness made his vision blur with desire and he gripped the sides of the table as he fought to regain control, his powerful fingers making deep indents in the rock. As his vision cleared, he saw the woman’s hand creeping between her legs, her will to refuse her satisfaction having reached its breaking point.
“No,” came his deep, booming command, which whipped the woman’s arms above her head and held them there with unseen, supernatural restraints.
Nosferatu looked the woman over one more time, admiring the way her legs spread to their limits as she invited him between them of her own accord. Finally, he allowed himself a taste.
He began at her toes, his inhumanly long and tactile tongue bathing them as they wiggled nervously. He began to draw her toward him across the glass-smooth tabletop, using only his mind while his fingers caressed the tender flesh of her legs. As she slid, he continued to lap at her skin, the salt of her sweat aggravating his already voracious appetite. His long fangs slid across her flesh, not hard enough to draw blood (he didn’t want to tempt the vampires of his throng into doing something drastic) but just enough to leave very noticeable scratch marks as he worked his way up her calves and thighs.
She continued her slow sliding and he continued his tasting, dropping to his knees to put him just above eye level with her crotch. He groaned as his face advanced between her thighs and his long, red tongue took in the first taste of her wetness. The heat from between her legs warmed his cheeks and his touch became, not malicious, but much less delicate.
Her legs now draped over her shoulders, Nosferatu played the tip of his tongue against her swollen pussy lips and engorged clit, eliciting moans of longing from the woman. He held her legs apart as she instinctively tried to squeeze his face with her thighs, exalting in the tangy sweetness of her leakage.
He probed the tip of his tongue against her opening and found little resistance. Slowly, it slithered into her warm, wet cunt, advancing centimeter by centimeter, wiggling and sliding frictionlessly against her warm walls. His sensitive taste buds recognized her erogenous spot and danced against it. Every micro-movement was calculated to send her into an orgasmic frenzy. He reveled in the squeals of ecstasy this elicited from the woman, her animalistic craving replaced by climactic satisfaction, only to trade places with it again until her next orgasm.
There was no telling how long this cycle went on for, with Nosferatu lost in the intoxication of her wetness filling his mouth and belly, and her unable to think while riding wave after wave of climax. Several times, she almost lost consciousness on the table, only to be awoken by a fresh surge of arousal and climax.
Having drunk his fill, Nosferatu was ready to conclude the ritual. He stood and let the woman’s legs dangle off the end of the table as she struggled to maintain consciousness. Such were the depths of libidinous pleasure he had dragged her to. The silk cloak slipped from his shoulders and onto the floor, revealing his naked body and monstrous cock. It was leaking obscene quantities of precum.
Nosferatu spread the woman’s legs and slid his enormous, veinous cock between her pussy lips. As he slowly advanced into her cunt, the woman’s frenzy renewed, her hands flying to her breasts, roughly twisting, pinching, and pulling her nipples. Nosferatu gripped her thighs and thrust, turning her squeals into grunts that originated from her belly. As he fucked her more and more vigorously, her hands went from her tits to the table in an attempt to steady herself.
But steadiness was nowhere to be found as Nosferatu’s hips sped until they became a blur. Just as before, the woman came again and again, her body racked with pleasure so intense that consciousness once again threatened to flee.
She was jolted back to full awareness when, with a guttural growl that shook the chamber, Nosferatu’s testicles tensed and released, sending bucket-loads of hot, white cum shooting into the woman. This wasn’t human cum. It was electric and it warmed her with a tickling, tingling sensation that capped off the ocean of climaxes she had received.
Nosferatu let himself spill into the woman until the last drop. His satisfaction was tempered by the knowledge that it would be a whole month before his next encounter. There was no denying that this moment was the only bright spot in his eternally undead existence.
Only when his cock began to droop did he again notice the raucous crowd of dark creatures, lost in their bestial revelry. A single wave of his hand scattered them, sending them clamoring for the nearest exit. Within moments he was alone with the half-conscious figure on the table and his few, handpicked harem girls.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the girls surrounded the table and comforted the woman. Two held her in her arms and the other’s caressed her sweat-drenched skin as she broke into sobs of happy release.
Nosferatu left the chamber with only one thought on his mind.
“Until next month, my tastiest of tributes.”