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Chapter 1 - Under Her Spell

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Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Time. The inexorable march forward. A precious commodity to most, though they rarely acted like it. A triviality to the Chosen, though they arguably spent more of their waking hours living in the moment. A paradox? Or just a cruel joke?

Did having time in abundance cheapen its value? That's how it worked for everything else. Scarcity determines value. If that were true, it would mean... No, time was different. No matter how much people imagined they had, they craved more. It was the one thing money couldn't buy and power couldn't seize.

Or rather, they pined for more until they grew old and frail. As their youth depleted and their faculties failed, it was understandable that the longing for more time ebbed. And that was the crux. How much more time would they desire if not for the specters of frailty, decay and irrelevance?

Cassandra had ruminated on this topic many times before and no doubt would again. She sipped her morning tea as she gazed out her living room window from the comfort of her leather sofa. It was a drab, overcast day, typical of Tumwater, Washington. A perfect day for her to go on a walk if she so desired. What did she desire? Cassie hadn't decided yet.

The slim, raven-haired beauty placed her mug on a coaster atop the coffee table. She took up her laptop, logged into her broker and checked her stocks. The market was up. She was wealthier today than she had been yesterday. And tomorrow she would likely be wealthier than she was today. Boring. Unworthy of her attention.

Cassie checked her news feeds. There was the usual political squabbling. A few minor conflicts among the various factions of the mundane. The outbreak of some new disease which would never threaten her. Nothing of great interest.

Perhaps this was a day for reading? There was always reading to be done. So much reading... It never ended. Occasionally it led to fascinating discoveries. The problem with ancient texts is that for each one with useful knowledge, there were nine hundred and ninety nine full of utter tripe. Each time you found a needle in the haystack you patted yourself on the back and began the search for the next one. It was necessary work if one wanted to advance in the fiendish underworld of which she was a part, but it had to be done in moderation. Otherwise, one would go mad.

Like all of her kind, Cassie was driven by her primal urges. Feasting and fucking ranked highest in her hierarchy of needs. In the old days, feasting would've placed a strong first. In modern times, the craving to rut and sexually conquer consumed her thoughts as thoroughly as she she dominated every man she got her hands on.

She could go to the Scarlet Sanctum, home of her clan, and have a few turns with whichever house slaves caught her interest. That's what she did most days. Mundane and Chosen males alike were abundant there, adorned in gleaming bondage and waiting to serve their betters. But that would also mean run-ins with her clan sisters and likely, Sadie, Headmistress of the Crimson Dawn.

That would lead to chit chat of fashion, banter of sexual exploits, invitations to dinner and oft rehashed arguments about the direction of their order. As much as she enjoyed the company of her contemporaries, Cassie had grown tired of the internal jockeying and bickering.

Besides, that was the easy path. If she was honest with herself, she'd taken it too often lately. It was time to get back to basics and find herself a new play-thing. Someone she could enjoy privately until she decided what use he would best serve. A personal servant and sex toy? Or more fodder for Sadie's Bordello? It was commonplace to experience the former before settling into the latter.

Any that angered her sisters would suffer a worse fate. A one-time slaking of the thirst before being disappeared and discarded. But that was rare these days. It was so much more gratifying to entrance, enslave and bind them in perpetual service. There was scarce cause for dispute when they were so easily seduced. The supernatural charms of Cassie and her like made men putty in their hands.

Despite their helpless nature and the cold utility through which men were often harvested, she hadn't given up on romance. The Chosen never could, no matter how old and cynical they grew. Love was the only thing better than lust. Better than sinking one's teeth into warm flesh. It was the rarest and most dangerous thing. The most tragic and beautiful of life's thorny mysteries. And Cassandra wanted to feel it again. It had been too long since she had.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Cassie glanced at the grandfather clock by her mantle. The morning was slipping away as she sat there, lost in thought. It was time to take action. She opened a fresh tab in her browser and navigated to Kinksters. It was the favored platform of the depraved who were looking for hookups, play groups and sometimes even long term committed relationships.

She hadn't logged on in at least two weeks. Predictably, Cassie was assaulted by a tidal wave of red notification markers. Hundreds of likes and comments. Over sixty instant messages from guys praising her profile, drooling over her pictures, begging her to dominate them. Men groveling at her virtual feet and offering anything for a chance to be with her.

Cassandra stopped reading after the first few and banished the messaging tab. She clicked into the Personals section and began a local search. Submissive men looking for women in a 25 mile radius. She began clicking through profiles hurriedly, dismissing them if she saw one trait she disliked or a single comment in their bio that annoyed her.

There was no shortage of handsome bitch boys to choose from, but she knew from experience that a lot of them were fakes. Some wanted to top from the bottom, others were cheating on their wives and some were reaching for a fantasy they enjoye

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Written by James Bondage
Hochgeladen April 15, 2021
Notes Futa vampires dominate the underworld and all who enter it.
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