Night Owl

Night Owl Ch. 1

The ride to the club always felt endless, each minute dragging like an eternity. My eyes darted to the clock: 10:57. Three minutes to make it to the club. I rushed, barely making it just in time, feeling an odd relief despite my nonexistent heart. Not once in a year had I been late or missed a session.

Night Owl, a club unlike any other, catered exclusively to women with a certain...aliveness. It was a place where the darkest fantasies came to life and where forbidden desires were fulfilled.

That's where I met him. He was breathtaking, standing 5'10 with honey-kisses skin and jet black hair. His eyes, dark as boba pearls, were anything but innocent. I couldn't know his name, so I called him Mr. Red, but did I knew every inch of his beautifully sculpted body. He was the epitome of temptation, a delicious sight to behold.

My private room, nicknamed the Fortess, was finally ready. Twice a week, like clockwork, our sessions ran from 11:00 to 1:00am. We had to adhere strictly to this window or risk a month-long ban from one to one sessions with our suitors. Some of the ladies got a bit too excited when left alone for too long, so caution was necessary.

Today, I planned just to watch. Little did I know, Mr. Red had other ideas in store.

Our sessions usually revolved around him stroking his lust, imagining what I looked like from the other side of the glass. We were separated by a two-way mirror, allowing me an unobstructed view of his glorious form, while he had no clue about mine.

This thrilled me. He knew what I was and wasn't afraid, a rare trait in a human that could easily get them killed in my world. The time limits existed partly for this reason. Our excitement made us stronger, and there was always a risk of harming our nameless suitors.

Entering the black velvet-lined room, my non-existent heart raced in anticipation of seeing him. Today, I was ravenous, my desire consuming me. I needed him to feed this hunger, but I was unsure how I wanted to achieve that tonight.

A flash of light drew my attention to the door in his room. There he was. My body sensed his presence before my eyes confirmed it, and my oasis throbbed in response.

He walked slowly to his throne, wearing nothing but light grey sweatpants. The tattoos on his right arm glistened like paintings and my excitement grew at the thought of what his hands were about to do.

Sitting on the golden throne draped in red velvet throws, he was a vision. I pressed the button on the left armrest of my chair, signaling I was ready to start.

His eyes flicked up to the red light, a smile crossing those beautiful lips. He was ready to play.

The crease of his smirk revealed a dimple, making my pussy throb again. My body's response still baffled me. Since becoming a vampire, I hadn't fully understood the mechanics of my new biology. I could eat human food or drink blood, either way, sustaining me, and keeping my organs functioning like normal. My heart no longer beat, yet I still felt the blood coursing through my body.

Regaining focus, I returned my attention to tonight's entertainment.

He must have sensed my distraction because when I looked back at the glass, he was standing right in front of me. Leaning forward on his left arm, his other hand trailed gently down the curves of his chiseled chest.

He loved this. He loved knowing he controlled my body's reactions. On days like today, when I let him take charge, he knew exactly how to make me wet. With my new found strength and body, I had developed a kink for control, something I never had as a human. But now, a single whisper of a command from him, and I was pool of wetness.

But let's be real—I fucking loved it. Every day, I fantasized about him commanding me to cum. Imagining him finger fucking me as his lust tapped the back of my throat, sent a shiver up my spine.