Cherry [Vassalord] {M/M}

My name is Charles Chrishunds. I am filthy. I’m not a human, nor am I entirely a vampire but a cyborg, a Vatican’s dog. I kill the ones like me and like you. I hunt them down and destroy them, but I could never destroy you, Master. Your name is Johnny Rayflo, gorgeous playboy vampire, in the past known as ‘The Confined Elagabalus’. I don’t even remember for how long I’ve known you. You were my savoir, I praised you and admired you, but then I grew up. My thoughts changed, and so did my desires.

My lust is hard to maintain. Every time you are near me I want to rip your clothes apart and attack you. I want to dig my fangs into your flesh and drink, drink until you. My thirst for blood is continuous and constant, but only for yours. People are off my limits and the thoughts of drinking other vampires’ blood disgusts me. It’s dirty. But not yours. You are perfect. Your blood is like honey. I can never get enough of you. My master. My love.

You want me to tell you how I feel about you? I will never tell you how much you mean to me. I will never tell you I love you. I think you already know that anyway. Sometimes I think you can read me like an open book, but you always tell otherwise.

            There you are sitting on the bed, smoking your cigarette. Your white shirt is open and not tucked in. Your hair is messy and loose and falls on your shoulders and chest. I want to touch it. I continue looking from the corner of my eyes as you turn the page of the book you are reading. Your face is serious. I can’t see the name of the book, but I can tell you are enjoying it. Jealousy is eating me up from the inside. I am despicable. Getting jealous over a book. How ridiculous. I sigh and look back at my documents.

“Hey Cherry, when are you planning to lose your virginity?” you ask as if it’s the most casual thing. I choke and cough loudly. You stand up and pat my back. Your hand is wide and warm. I know that warmth, it saved me once.

“It’s none of your business.” I reply coldly.

I can hear you sigh. “How I wish to ‘pop your cherry’, Cherry,” you wink at me and smile. I blush unintentionally. Why do you always have to say something idiotic, Master? I fix the glasses on my nose and clear my throat.

You laugh again.

I stand up and push him down on the bed. You smirk. I hate that smirk of yours. It is too attractive.

My hand rips off your shirt and caresses your smooth chest. Your muscles tense under my touch and you still have the same smirk on your lips. I want to wipe it off. I leaned forward and bite you. Your blood enters my mouth and it’s a pure bliss. I close my eyes and drink. I hold onto your arms tightly, bruising the pale flesh, but you feel no pain. It should be a crime damaging such a perfect creation of God, so I am a sinner.

“Cherry…” you breathe out the nickname you gave me. Why don’t you ever call me Charles?

I moved my mouth to another sweet spot of yours. I know all of them. I know where it hurts and where it gets to the peak of pleasure. Your body is so sweet. I cannot get enough of your blood. I want to admit something. Master, I want you – the whole of you. I want you to belong to me, but I am too ashamed to say it to your face.

You sweet moan rings in my ears. Your voice is beautiful, Master, but I want to hear more. I want to hear your screams of pleasure, as you cry out on the edge of pleasure. “Cherry,” you continue moaning as I pierce your skin near the left nipple. It is one of your most sensitive spots. “Stop…not there,” you bite your lip and close your eyes. You clench my hair in your hands. It feels amazing when you pull it back: not too rough and not too weak, just perfect to make the chills run down my spine.

“Cherry, come here,” you pull me up lightly, applying no force and I obey. I am curious at what you will do, besides…your neck…I am weak for it.

You cup my face and bring it closer to your own, our lips are almost touching. You are tickling my face with your breath. Ironic. You are an immortal. You have no need for air, but you still breathe. Like a human being. Master, do you miss being mortal?

My hand travels to your trousers. I brush over your hardness. I can see your eyes widen in slight shock. I am always watching you when I drink. “Cherry…we will…? Today…?” you manage to let out. I squeeze your member over the cloth and you groan. I can feel my own hardness making me uncomfortable. A wet patch was quickly forming on my black trousers.

You lean forward and try to wrap your arms around me, but with one last sip I pull away and stand up abruptly. I wipe my mouth and turn away clenching my hands. I almost gave in to my animal desires. I almost…dirtied you completely.

You wanted to say something; I could feel it, so I left before you could let out a word. I closed the door and leaned on it.

“Cherry…” I heard you whispered. I could swear you were running your long fingers through your hair as you whispered it. “There you go again.”  You continued. You sighed and probably fell back on the bed to wait until all the wounds I’ve made on your body healed.

Master. I cannot do it. I am not ready. Not yet.

I turn around and leave. I need to clear my head.

***

Johnny Rayflo sat up and smoked. He looked at the closed door. All the wounds were already healed. He released a blow of smoke and rested his chin on his knee. One of the maids entered the room asking if he needed anything, but he sent her away.

“You might want to hurry up, Cherry,” he said out loud. “Time is running out…tick tock. Later might be too late.”

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.