The vampires tale chapter 1

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My name is Piotor Vlekensky. I was born in Svedenska, Romania in 1743 on a farm near the Yvteno mountains. My parents were both vampires which mean I also am a vampire. My parents taught me how to survive and nourish the hunger for blood which dominated my waking moments. Our family is of vampire blood for as long ago as anyone can remember. We have developed a way of life that keeps us alive for long periods of time. We are susceptible to a disease in our blood which causes a fatal deficiency if we do not replace our ill blood with fresh healthy blood. Even that healthy blood deteriorates after about a month and makes us weak and will end in our death after a prolonged and painful illness. So we need to drink about a pint of fresh blood once a month. In ancient times a vampire would search for a victim that wouldn't be missed. When he was certain of success he would extend long canine fangs from a cavity in the roof of his mouth but behind his regular teeth. Pouncing on his victim he would sink these fangs into a vein in the neck or inner thigh of the one he had chosen. A substance in his saliva prevented their blood from coagulating and he would suck and swallow it.

These early ancestors found it best to kill their victim afterwards so they couldn't accuse him. Some vampires mutilated the body to conceal the fang marks. After drinking their fill for several hours or even
days these victims died from blood loss or horrendous wounds The members of our family lived far apart, only visiting on rare occasions such as the birth of a child or a death. It is a long wagon ride or sleigh ride to reach others of our kind. The reason we live far apart is to
evade suspicion when local people go missing or succumb to an alleged animal attack or a violent bloody accident. This way we protect our supply of fresh nourishment. Thus these ancient ones had to travel long distances to find fresh victims. This began the legend that we could fly or turn into bats and fly.

A live human can replenish my weak blood by giving up about a pint each month. This doesn't harm them but as you can imagine they do not do so willingly. Thus I have to detain a living donor and keep them hidden from the view of others in order to avoid awkward questions. When I was a boy it wasn't uncommon to have indentured servants or even owned slaves to supply my needs Later they do not willingly consent to abduction or restraint so I had to adjust my habits to avoid imprisonment which, of course would mean a slow death in a cell.

On my parents farm we kept several slaves to work in the fields and serve us in our home. Some of these boys and girls were accustomed to giving up a jar of blood every so often. As I became a teen I found the girls more and more attractive, particularly when they were lying face down in restraints donating blood. My parents ruled that I could not have sex with them for a full day even though they were naked and tied down, but
conveniently my parents left them tied to the table even after a day had passed and I quickly learned how to take advantage of their young supple bodies. For milking their blood they were tied to a low table face down and wearing a blindfold. Each of their limbs were tied to the legs of a table. It didn't take much imagination for me to push up their dress and pull their pantaloons down to their ankles, leaving their plump pink ass bare. I removed my jodhpurs and hoisted myself onto the table straddling their legs. By that time I had a roaring hard on and it didn't take much effort to slip it between her pussy lips. She might cry and ask "Why are you doing this? I'll tell your parents!"
To which I replied "If you do they might find a new job for you, like shoveling out the stables." This usually shut up their complaints and let me do whatever I wanted with their helpless bodies. It wasn't a bad time in my life.

When I became twenty my needs and my parent’s needs were more than the servants on our small farm could supply. So my parents bade me a tearful farewell and sent me on my way with a horse and a handsome bag of silver to sustain me.

I rode to a distant city with a large population thinking that in such an environment I could find enough sustenance but not create a stir. This worked well for many decades. Living there I was able to abduct and
detain healthy adults and milk them once a month. I began concentrating on obtaining youthful women of an attractive countenance who could supply me with female companionship between milkings. I had hoped to find a
girl who was also vampire who could start a vampire family. Although I traveled extensively by horse and carriage I did not find a woman vampire. Although this condemned me to a life of solitude, eventually I became content with my lifestyle.

+++++++++++++ 1773 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Over time I had amassed some holdings that permitted me a leisurely lifestyle to read and study books and manuscripts of others who had led similar lifestyles. As time went on I perfected my skills at choosing and holding young women in my house. I found that much like farm animals these slaves would wander off or slip away if given the opportunity. It was simpler to keep them restrained at all times so I could leave my domicile to buy food or invest my growing fortune in grain, land and more speculative ventures. To the end of retaining my blood supply I kept them tied hand and foot and gagged for most of my sleeping times. I allowed them small freedoms around the house to clean themselves and perform some household chores.

I found that I liked making love to a female who was tied securely to a table or a bed. Their helplessness and vulnerability was very arousing. My nature is to act rather roughly during sex so it makes sense to keep them gagged so their pitiful cries and moaning cannot alert neighbors or passersby.

When I was a young man most of the women in my village had long hair and I found this particularly enchanting. I therefore sought out a blood donor with long hair, the longer the better. Long thick hair has a beauty and a feel that is wonderful when I run my fingers through it. I enjoyed braiding their hair and it gave me an erection just being in control of their hair.

I would wash their hair two or three times a week and always ended the hair management with long satisfying sex, sometimes with their hands tied behind their backs or many times simply controlling them with their hair
held in my hand like a rope. If they did not obey my every demand I would give their hair a jerk which brought a moan or a yelp and immediate agreement with whatever I wanted to do with them.

Over the years I found some women who just would not yield their will to mine so I devised various means of torturing them so that complying became more agreeable to them. Early in the 19th century I had made a piece of furniture to assist me in this endeavor. I engaged a furniture maker to build me a table that was built very sturdily and had a thick pad and a leather top. It was quite easy to force a girl to lie on the pad face down while I tied her hands and ankles to each of the four table legs. A whipping or caning their bottom would have them begging for me to cease so they could please me with their bodies. I varied the torture by using their hair to torment them into submission. I pulled their long hair into a silky mane and wound a rope around it near the end so I could stretch it back its entire length. I then pulled this rope toward their feet and put tension on their mane. Hauling back on this I would secure it to their legs so their face was gazing up at the ceiling. After ten to fifteen minutes the tears would come and bargaining would start which pleased me very much.

"Please Sir, won't you untie my hair. It hurts awfully!"

I replied "You were very willful and disobedient to my demands so I will punish you and correct your ways."

"I will do anything you ask Sir! Just untie my hair and I will obey you no matter what you ask."

To which I replied “I do not ask you anything. I tell you what to do and you will perform it immediately."

"Yes, Yes, I promise. I will do anything. Just don't stretch my hair any more."

I found her begging and pleading was very arousing so I made love to her before I released her from her bonds and untied her hair.


+++++++++++++++++ 1810 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



Occasionally I would find a girl who did not resist me very much. It seems that peasant girls are used to enduring a hard physical life so the demands I put on them did not seem so bizarre. When a girl became compliant and spent most of her time pleasing me it was inevitable that I became affectionate toward her. At first this led to my falling in love with them. But as time went by I remained the same but they became older
and more wrinkled. Their limbs did not bend as easily and they became fat and featureless. I could not pretend to find them sexually attractive anymore and I certainly could not send them on their merry way after years of draining their blood and using them for my sexual pleasure.

There was a solution which I was reluctant to use. If my weak blood was introduced to their bloodstream it would change their blood into my kind of blood which deteriorated. They would become a vampire like me but without the skill to acquire more fresh blood for themselves. I tried this method but after several weeks of suffering I could not bear seeing such pain in one who had pleasured me. I assisted her to the peaceful end which I could never have. But selfishly I would have another young, beautiful long haired girl already restrained or picked out for my use.

Inevitably I could not stay in one locale forever. Eventually people would notice that young, beautiful girls with long hair were wont to disappear, never to be seen again. When mutterings increased I would sell any holdings and move on to a distant place. Over time my investment skills increased and I became quite well off so packing up was not such a trial. I tried to pick a home which was comfortable and enjoyed a large piece of land which I could sharecrop or use to raise cattle and horses for profit. The sharecroppers didn't come close to my house so I enjoyed sustainable privacy.

As time passed but I did not become older my methods of seeking pleasure from my consorts became more sophisticated and complex. I did not want to stress them and make them susceptible to illness so I throttled
my enjoyment of stressing them as a means of pleasure. I found pleasure in the smoothness of their skin and the gentle curves of their youthful bodies. I find the body of a youthful girl lovely and avoided marking it in any way except what was absolutely necessary. Girls in their teen years were best because they were naive and I could train them in fulfilling my desires.

Some experimenting in methods were successful, some not. I tried several different styles of furniture and had the means to bring in craftsmen to build this furniture to my specification. One of my most elaborate devices was a thing of beauty. The first one needed some modifications so I destroyed it in the fireplace and built a second which worked very well indeed.

From the right end it began with a wide padded platform at waist height. Continuing to the left was a beam half a hand width wide and set vertically. This went to a sliding slim pad at the end. It was supported with two pairs of legs at each end shaped like an upside down V. The girl I had chosen would lie down on it with her hips supported by the rightmost pad. Her breasts would hang on either side of the center beam and her shoulders or head would rest on the leftmost pad, depending on where I slid it.

Leather straps secured her arms and legs to the legs of my bench. This left her anus, pussy and mouth all reachable and open to me.

One girl was particularly resistant to my persuasions so I added some vertical posts to the extreme outer end of the shoulder supports. I had these posts drilled with holes big enough to accommodate locks of her hair. By combing out sections of her hair and pushing them through the holes I could secure them with cords on the other side and then
pull down and secure the cords to one of the lower holes. There were twelve holes in each of the poles and by the time I had pulled four to six locks of her hair through the holes and put tension on them she was screaming and blubbering in pain. However, I continued to pull locks of her long blond hair through the holes and secure them tightly with cords. She looked quite beautiful with her hair in a sunburst flowing away from her head.

By the time her entire mane of hair was threaded through the poles she was gibbering like a monkey and begging for mercy while making all sorts of extravagant promises including some I had never thought of. I sat on a
chair and listened to her while my lust for her was increasing by the minute. I didn't bother securing any agreement from her. I knew if she didn't strain to please me from now on just the threat of the " hair bench" would have her staring at me with wide open eyes looking for any sign of how to please me.

This device also made milking her very easy. Her breasts hung down on either side of the central beam. By threading ropes through some carefully located holes I could put enormous pressure on her breasts. Borrowing from a corsets design I had hooks and rings screwed into the central beam in the pattern of two rows beside each breast. By stringing a tough cord through the rings and gradually pulling them tighter and tighter I could squeeze the breasts until her cries and pleadings told me it was taut enough. Then when they began to darken I pushed a large hollow needle into a vein. The blood would then drip out and be caught in jars or bowls placed beneath them. This collected blood had to be ingested very quickly before it went bad so I had to milk her roughly once a month. Unfortunately draining blood made her weak and tired so I couldn't put any additional strain on her for at least a day. I just left her there secured to the bench until she had recuperated enough to be unstrapped. Afterwards I fed her some bland bread and cheese and allowed her to drink as much water as she pleased from a long straw in a jar.

I found that right after drinking fresh blood I became easily aroused. While she was still strapped down and finished being milked I sometimes enjoyed having anal sex with her. I was thoughtful and always lubricated
her anus after first giving her an enema to assure a clean organ. I lubricated my penis and found it best to simply rest my erect penis in the crack of her ass, slowly pulling her ass cheeks apart and then letting them embrace my cock. By pressing inwards on her buttocks my cock would naturally seek out her anal opening. Eventually it would slip in and I would hold just the head inside her until her muscles relaxed. She was in such a perfect position I didn't have to hurry and could spend a luxurious time very slowly pushing and pulling in and out until such a time that I found myself buried deep in her bowels. It hurt her and I found that her little whinny’s of pain and moans excited me so that my cock became even more rigid while inside her.

I was amazed to find that sometimes these girls would find pleasure and sexual arousal from the tight bondage and sometimes pain I inflicted on them. Not all of them. Some merely acquiesced to avoid the punishment and torture. But several found they looked forward to it.

I fondly remember one girl who was mine around the 1820s would stick her tongue out at me and refuse my orders with a smile on her face and a coquettish giggle. She knew what that would bring and sought ways to bring about a painful session but not enough to anger me. For her I thought long and hard to prepare torture that would bring her pain but leave no permanent marks, either physically or emotionally. A predictable caning or hair stretching didn't seem appropriate for her.

To get my creative juices flowing I tied her to a chair and gagged her while I sat at my desk and studied her. Gradually a fiendish idea began to gain form in my mind. First I held a stiff piece of paper under her breasts and drew their outline on it. Next I took some measurements of her chest width and breast thickness and wrote them in the appropriate places on my partial drawing. I spent the rest of the night staring at her and elaborating on my drawing until when the cocks began crowing I was satisfied. My excitement rose as I pictured my imaginary device used on her. I couldn't wait so I tied her face down on the bed after allowing her to go to the bathroom and eat a light breakfast. Her gently curving back ending at her round buttocks was such a pretty picture I had to tear myself away and on to my task.

I drove my buggy to the best carpenter I knew and asked if he could produce the device on my drawing. He said it would be ready in a few days. I instructed him to round all the edges and make it from oak. I then rode to the hardware store and bought some pieces to fabricate a cider press. I told the clerk I needed to repair mine which was damaged.

After a few days I retrieved my device from the carpenter and paid him including a generous tip. I wanted him to be ready and willing to produce anything else I might require of him. Upon arriving at my home I assembled all the parts together and was quite pleased with the result. It was now composed of two pieces wide enough to span my consort’s chest and curved to fit above and below her ample breasts. At each end was a threaded hole with a metal screw passing through the top piece and securely attached to the bottom piece. Finishing it was two handles threaded onto each metal screw.

Now it was time to try it out. I brought her to my study and tied her hands above her head to a door. I then threw the rope over the open door and tied it to the knob on the opposite side. That made me realize I lacked a convenient was of stretching her upright. Fitting the upper and lower bars of my new device above and below her breasts I spun the threaded handles down until they reached the top of the upper one. I turned each handle a few turns alternately and was overjoyed to watch her breasts being slowly squeezed between them. Thanks to the curving style her breasts were not flattened very much but were rather forced into near perfect globes. She began whining and squirming so I learned just how tight I could force them without causing damage. I was overjoyed at the beautiful picture she made, enhanced slightly by her squirming and the sounds she was making. At this time I decided to have sex with her while her breasts were shaped to my liking. I untied her wrist rope from the doorknob and bending her over double, tied the rope around her ankles so her squished breasts hung down.

This seemed to cause her more pain as the sounds of her grunts became louder. Her long hair hung to the floor and hid her face so I gathered it into a thick handful and pulled it to the other side of her head. Highly aroused I inserted myself into her and enjoyed pushing harder and harder until with a cry I finished.
Thoughtfully I then untied the rope from her ankles and allowed her to stand up. She begged me to remove the breast squeezer as it was causing her much pain. I removed it and congratulated myself on building a successful tool

Using her long hair was most effective in persuading her to perform to my satisfaction. Toward this end I built some implements to assist me when dealing with a new girl who was very resistant. A machine I enjoyed building in my own carpentry studio was called the "push pull wheel". The main mechanism was a large, heavy wheel mounted on an axle which held it at about waist level. The girl would be tied hand and foot and secured to a low table face down. I then took all her hair above her ears and pulled on it until I could tie a cord securely to it. I then tied the rope to a spoke of the wagon wheel. By turning the wheel it would pull on her hair and force her head to bob up and down. I could vary how much her head moved by where I secured the cord to the spoke, either nearer or further from the axle. When I had it adjusted to my liking I could sit on the floor and turn the wagon wheel by hand. Since it was quite heavy it only required periodic pushes to maintain its spin. Her head was now bobbing up and down at the same level as my cock which was rigid with anticipation. I slid forward on the floor until her mouth was around me and then gave the wheel a push. Up and down her head went which afforded me much pleasure. If she had been disagreeable, half an hour to an hour under the control of the wagon wheel taught her that her mouth and her hair were owned by me and I could do anything I wanted with them. After a sufficient length of time attached to the wheel I could look into her eyes and tell she had no will left. Between her mouth being forced to slide first up and then down continually on my cock and the action on her hair of first pulling it and then relaxing it she became quite submissive. Even after untying her from the table she would only stand there with her head down, dully awaiting any further instructions from me. The most strong willed girl would become compliant and obedient after half a dozen sessions with the “push pull wheel."

The wheel also had another function in its array of tricks. The axle protruded from one side about a foot. I wrapped this axle in parallel strips of rawhide to increase its gripping power. I then wrapped a thin slat with glove leather. The slat was the same length as the axle.

I would first tie the girl’s hands behind her back with additional ropes wrapping her ankles and upper legs. I laid her face down with her head directly under the wheel. I combed out her hair and draped it over the axle and laid the leather wrapped slat over it. Using a comb I made sure her hair covered the entire length of the axle. I secured the slat tightly with short pieces of cord so her hair now rose from her head to the axle in a wide fan. By turning the wheel I could pull her hair upward until part of her body hung from it. A rope tied from the base to a spoke held the wheel in place. How long I left her there hanging by her hair depended on what it took to correct her attitude. If left for a period of time I would occasionally rotate the wheel a spoke at the time thus putting more and more strain on her hair. It was amusing to leave the room for a time and then when I came back give the wheel a small turn. When she saw me coming she knew her torment was going to increase and the blubbering and tears increased. When I was satisfied she had learned her lesson I unwound her flowing hair from the axle and was pleased to discover it had acquired a curl at the ends. Before I released her I would listen to her begging and pleading until I was certain she meant it. When I slowly unwrapped her hair and lowered her to the floor her gratitude knew no bounds and I could instruct her in exactly how she should suck on my cock to give me the most pleasure.

I noticed her demeanor toward me changed. At first I thought it was fear but I noticed she was willing to do anything I told her to and smiled while doing it. It seemed that she found pleasure in bringing me pleasure. This was something new in my experience and I was curious to learn more about it. In order to find if it was real or feigned I put her to a test. I laid her on my bed and tied her face down and spread eagled. Every inch of her skin was within reach of my whip. She wasn’t very resistant to pain because after a dozen blows with a leather quirt she was screaming most piteously and trying to escape her bindings. With her back and ass covered with red stripes I turned her over and retied her. I laid on the quirt to her breasts and inner thighs which brought her to a paroxysm of screaming and bucking wildly. She normally has a beautiful body with skin that is smooth and milky but now she looked like an injured toy. I had taken something away from her. Her natural beauty. Now she looked damaged and no longer perfect. I listened to her babble and tears but only heard complaints about the pain she felt. She was hurting but not trying to change her state. She seemed satisfied with being the victim of my whipping. In order to find out how she felt about me I untied her and ordered her to sit in my lap where I held her. I wrapped a quilt around her while she sat there blubbering. She rested her head on my shoulder and I couldn’t resist stroking her long wavy hair. Occasionally I would wrap a strand around my hand and pull back knowing it hurt her. She didn’t waver, only waiting until I relaxed so she could put her head back on my shoulder. I remembered that when I had whipped her in the past she caterwauled but did not attempt escape. At that time I had put her submissiveness down to fear of my reprisal but now I realized she accepted my maltreating her as a part of her life and mine. She knew I would not harm her more than a few days of recovery would heal.

One night I asked her “What would you think if I didn’t whip you or pull your hair?”
She said “It would mean you don’t want me any more.”
I realized that my cruelty to her was a signature of our relationship. Up til now I had pictured her as a victim, someone to be used, whipped, fucked and milked of blood. With her now declaring that all these cemented us together I saw her in a new light. Not as an object to use and throw away but rather as a part of my life.

We maintained this life for many years until she fell sick and after several days of sweating and coughing she moved no more. It seemed odd that I who never got sick had lost a part of my life to sickness. I buried her in the church’s cementary because I think she would have liked it.

I missed her terribly and found the house lonely and empty. I survived by draining itinerant travelers of their blood.