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Vampire Mistress

Delia finds herself strangely entranced by a mysterious woman's eyes

By Rhea CorvosPublished 5 years ago 4 min read

Delia was never one to miss Halloween, but this year was going to be extra special. DJ Marqd, a.k.a., her old classmate Mark Witman, was spinning at the hottest club in town for the annual Vampire Night. She was going to be his VIP—and maybe more. Standing in line, she twirled in her black tutu, admiring how her fishnets hugged her cute runner's legs. The fake fangs felt weird in her mouth, and she had to work hard not to drool. The guy who'd made them for her said she'd get used to them, a few minutes after putting them in. Delia certainly hoped so! There weren't many things in life less sexy than a drooling vampire.

"Hello. You seem to be having some... fang trouble."

Delia jumped, squeaking. The woman who had spoken to her was tall, with skin that was nearly luminous in the lamplight. Unlike everyone else in line, she was wearing a red T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and perfectly ordinary sneakers. Despite that, she must have been one of the best-looking people in the whole area. The T-shirt was tight across her bust, and the jeans seemed to hug her ass as though they were tailored to her body. Then, there were those eyes. Delia shook herself, and made herself look away. It'd be kind of gay to gaze into another woman's eyes like that. Wouldn't it? Despite herself, she glanced back, only to find herself nearly captured again. Her heart hammered.

"I... I'm a vampire tonight," she babbled. The tall woman laughed softly, covering her mouth with one long-fingered hand.

"Are you?"

"Yes. That's why the..." she gestured at her mouth.

"And the..." the woman gestured at her clothes. Delia nodded vigorously.

"Yes. I don't usually wear black, but Mark—DJ Marqd—said I'd get in tonight if I dressed up."

The woman nodded solemnly. "Well, you're a very convincing vampire," she stated. "But, there's one thing you missed."


"Fang marks!" The woman opened her beautiful eyes wide, in innocent mock horror. Again, Delia found herself staring into them, almost falling. The woman continued to speak, her voice silky and low. "You need the scars of fangs on your beautiful long neck, if you want to be a vampire. If you follow me, I can give those to you. I'm something of an artist when it comes to blood."

"I'm... kind of afraid of losing my place in line." Delia couldn't tear her gaze away now, but that was alright. She could look into this woman's lovely green eyes forever, falling into them like they were the bottomless oceans.

"You're not worried about that at all," the woman said, voice still sweet as honey. "You can just let yourself gaze into my eyes, and know that I can take you anywhere. You won't resist, and you won't protest. Just look deeply into my eyes, and lose yourself in the sound of my voice. You'll find that you're feeling very relaxed and safe, but also helpless, in a good way. I've got you now, and you know you can listen to me. Don't you?"

"Yes..." Delia didn't even register that she'd spoken. She was responding to the woman on autopilot as she fell deeper and deeper into her eyes, feeling herself swept away in them. But that was alright. It was easy to listen and obey the beautiful woman, especially when she suggested that Delia would follow her. Delia did, her mind blissfully empty, leaving behind the line and her guaranteed night of clubbing with the other gothed-out revelers waiting for DJ Marqd. The very idea of going anywhere that the woman didn't go seemed insane. She might as well have been tugged along on a leash that the woman held in her hand, told to wait like a good girl, as the woman led her to a brownstone in the expensive part of town, and commanded her to sit on a fainting couch. Delia felt her thighs warming as she realized her lust for this mysterious woman. Her helpless brain, entranced by the stranger's charms, offered no resistance, as it directed her eyes to stare once more into the green depths of her eyes. Then, the woman's fingers were easing into her, pushing through the fishnets and past the tiny black thong that Delia had bought for the club. Delia felt herself clamp onto the woman's hand, moaning and thrusting her hips to get those long, pale fingers deeper inside her. Her body ran on instinct, but the woman was skilled, too. Her thumb stroked Delia's clit as Delia rode, first one finger, then four. They curved just so to hit Delia's most secret inner button, but that still wasn't enough. It was impossible to come, and Delia needed more, some greater penetration that her empty mind couldn't find the words to request. Then, she felt it: the delicious rending, the piercing of her bare neck, and the sudden submission, so deep and complete that she knew it was a kind of death. As her blood ran into the woman's greedy mouth, Delia came, obedient and helpless in her lust. She came again, then again, each time stronger than the last, each time accompanied by a languid, erotic lick across the bleeding wound on her neck. Never had Delia felt such pleasure. She'd never imagined this intensity was even possible. Now, she was its slave. As the light and her consciousness dimmed to blackness, she knew the true meaning of pleasure.

When Delia opened her eyes again, the world looked different. The woman was still there, though, and that was the important part. Delia knew that she would obey her now and forever, over the interminable course of the decades, the centuries, the millennia. She knelt before the woman she knew now as a true vampire, her vampire, the demigod of night and lust who had taken her for her own. Trembling with need, she gazed up at those hypnotic eyes.

"Mistress," she whispered, "Command me."

Rhea is a submissive and writer of hypnosis erotica. You can find more of her work on Amazon and MCStories, or support her on Patreon. If you like her free erotic hypnosis stories, be sure to tip her!


About the Creator

Rhea Corvos

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