Drowning Ophelia (Immoral Dracula) (3 page)

Wait!” Ophelia pulled away. Casimir frowned. “I’ve, I’ve never…”

“My fair virgin.” Casimir laughed.
 

“Hey!” Ophelia tried to shove him off. Casimir held her down, pushing through the faux-affront; he bit her.

Ophelia shrieked and pulled away. Blood pooled from her neck and covered her breasts sanguine. Casimir ran one finger gently from the bite, over the shape of her breasts, to the tip of her rose colored tip, and up again to her red lips. She sucked on his finger, swallowing the sweet metallic substance. Her eyes widened. She clutched at his chest, wrenching her nails inside of him. Her whole being was in a daze of pleasure. She was under his control.
 

His eyes menaced, the charcoal blazed. Ophelia heaved, her chest rising and falling like a tumultuous ocean. She shivered beneath him in unrestrained pleasure, holding his face as the only stability.
 
Casimir lowered his face that their lips were only a breath apart. As Ophelia rose to meet him, she could barely contain herself. “Take me.”
 
Casimir laughed.

She embraced him, biting his lip hard. Casimir bled. “Oops,” Ophelia giggled, licking her lips. Casimir touched a finger to the bloody lip and growled. He flipped Ophelia over so that she was on her stomach. “What are you—“ She could feel the silk around her wrists before she could finish the question. She was on her knees, her arms were tied above her head in black silk, her neck had a thin line of blood trickling down from the bite, her breasts were bare, and one nipple bloodied.

Casimir slid his hand down her back and arched the sweet curve of her butt upward. He pushed her face in to the bedspread, her hands tied with black silk. “My fair virgin,” he whispered.
 

“Oh!” She gasped as he entered her. Slowly he penetrated her, the tip sliding past her smooth lips. She gasped again and he groaned. As he went deeper, she moaned and shrieked in unrestrained pleasure. He growled and clasped her by the hair, pulling her against him that her back was against his chest.
 

Casimir had captivated her entirely, she could not think. Her body was throbbing for him, relishing his existence, asking him to stay forever. Casimir growled and took her neck to his teeth. It was too much for Ophelia; the pleasure was unbearable, unlike anything she had ever known. She twisted her wrists in the restraints. She arched her back. He sucked more of the sanguine sweetness from her neck.

“Casimir…” Ophelia moaned. “Casimir, I’m, I’m…” She writhed and undulated uncontrollably, reaching the climax. He placed his hands over her navel, holding her firmly to him. Casimir drove his teeth further in to her supple neck, driving them both further in to a red soaked madness.

Ophelia screamed in wild, pleasure filled hysteria. As Ophelia reached her final crest, Casimir joined. He growled in to her neck, blood throbbing. Ophelia sighed a sweet, sensual breath. Casimir lifted his mouth from her neck, his teeth colored crimson.

In her pleasured haze Ophelia hadn’t noticed all the blood. Lines like small rivers flowed down and all across her body from the puncture spot. She looked like a murder victim, save for the smile plastered across her face. She looked like a murder victim so delighted to be murdered.

Casimir stared at the black oak ceiling. “This is wrong…”
 

“What? Is it me?” Ophelia stuttered, struggling to find the silk sheets to cover herself.
 

“No you’re exquisite… You’re perfect…” Casimir rolled over and swatted her hand away. “Your perfect round breasts…” He pulled the sheets down and traced an arc over her breasts. “Your smooth, supple skin…” He ran his hand over her skin. “Your beautiful…” He traced his hand lower. “Delicious…” Ophelia shuddered as he reached the smooth skin of her slit. “Cunt.” Ophelia gasped and knocked him away. She started to laugh.
 

“Your laugh.” He pulled her near him. “Your smile. Your silky, silver hair. Your stutter.” She started to pull away again, he held firm. His muscles bulged from his arms and abdomen when he held her close. “And your coyness, of course. Ophelia… Shy Ophelia… So coy with me now but so unreserved with your cunt before.”
 

Ophelia pushed him hard and he laughed.
 

“Then what is wrong?” She lied on his melted caramel chest, stroking the tufts of black hair. He had much hair on his chest, and many more below. She ran her fingers through the hair and lied her head on it, comforted. “Is this what you think is wrong?” She slid her fingers from the chest hair and moved it lower, working her fingers through the tufts of shaft hair, and then working the shaft. She stroked it softly up and down, teasing. It stiffened. She grasped it softly and slowly at first and then harder and faster until he was hard as rock. Casimir groaned.

“Ophelia…” She continued to stroke his shaft. She stood on her knees and lowered her mouth to his tip. He groaned. She lowered her mouth and moved up and down, twirling her tongue as she went. She sucked harder and faster until she could feel the blood throb. She moaned and rubbed herself in cadence with him. She could feel his pleasure. He was close—
 

Casimir growled and pushed Ophelia off. “For a virgin you sure do have a lot of practice.”

Ophelia stuttered and shook her head. She reached for the sheets again and instead fell off the bed in a huff, tangled. “For an ass you sure are an ass.” She fumbled for her clothes.

“Ophelia, darling…” Casimir leaned over the side. “I’m sorry.”

“Shove it up your ass. Ass.”
 

“You don’t know who I am…”
 

Ophelia was on floor, tangled in the sheets, and absently fumbling for her dress. “Do we ever…?” She stopped. “Know who we are, that is…” His face softened.
 

“I’m sure you know what you see when you look in the mirror.” Ophelia didn’t know what she saw in the mirror. She usually just looked through whatever stared back. “I see a monster with my likeness. And the scary thing is it has all of my memories. It’s trying to say it’s me.”
 

Ophelia stood on her knees and placed one hand on his chest.
 

The doors flung open. Ophelia rushed to cover herself. “Sir, there is a matter that is desperate for your attention.”

“Thank you, Abigail.”
 

Ophelia hid under the covers for what seemed like hours.

“Ophelia…” Casimir rubbed the lump of the covers.

“This happens all the time,” Ophelia’s muffled voice accused from under the safety of her hovel.
 

“Not really, no.”

“You have sex, all the time.”

“Occasionally. I wouldn’t call myself a bachelor, no.”
 

“I am only one of one hundred today, then.”

Casimir threw off the covers.
 

“You aren’t the first.” Ophelia grasped for the covers. When Casimir held them down she jumped off the bed, running to find her clothes. Casimir got to her first, and pinned her against the dark red wall. She squirmed, but he held her strong, his caramel muscles glistening by his sweat. “You aren’t the first, Ophelia,” She tried to get away but Casimir pinned her harder, “But you are my last.”

Ophelia attempted to say something but Casimir moved his fingers inside her. She fell to him and he had to catch her with his remaining arm. She was utterly incapacitated by him. She kissed his neck ferociously. Clawing at his hair. Moving her legs up and down his thigh. “You will always come first,” he whispered in to her ear, she moaned.

“Be inside me.” He thrust his fingers deeper. He lifted her and moved her to the bed. He took his fingers out.

“I must go. Something calls me…”
 

“But!” Ophelia raised herself that she was on her knees. She clawed at Casimir’s neck, red lines pulling them together. Their skin was touching, connected. She nibbled his neck, slowly tasting the sanguine sweetness that flowed out. Then she bit, hard and fast. Casimir growled and lifted her, throwing her to the middle of the bed. Ophelia smiled as he crawled toward her. He turned her over so that she was on her knees.
 

Casimir entered her fast and rough. He pulsated and she screamed with pleasure. “I always come first,” Ophelia whispered as Casimir drew them in to red felicity.
 

“Where have you been and what are you wearing?” Ophelia startled. She had not barely closed the gilded doors when Nina jumped out at her.

Ophelia was wearing a tapering silk gown. It hugged her in just the right places. A dark emerald color, it brought out the deep blue in her eyes. It was cut in a deep sweetheart so that her petite cleavage was almost entirely shown. Like the moon almost risen, the tops of her peachy nipples teased. She looked naked in green; the silk clung to her hips and thighs. One could see everything.

When Ophelia waked the room was empty. Night was near and the room was sheathed in a nebulous, purple glow. On the edge of the bed something shimmered in the twilight. Casmir was gone and the emerald silk was draped over the edge of the soft cushion.
 

Ophelia shrugged coyly, hiding her chin behind her shoulder. “Oh, it’s not important,” Nina sighed. “There is something you must see.”
 

They walked along the corridor in silence. Ophelia followed Nina closely, but far enough away to survey her surroundings. The hall was lit by candlelight. It was dim and she could barely see Nina. She could just barely distinguish candles beyond Nina, floating like fireflies, as if distinct from anyone or anything. They were beautiful… mesmerizing.
 

Casimir appeared among the fireflies, calling to her. She could feel things touching at her. Hands coming out of the wall, soft and feminine. They touched her skin and she became aware that she was naked. They left a buzz like a jolt of energy. Tracing her body, teasing her just below her thighs; she vibrated. She wanted to go to them and fall in to their embrace. She would disappear forever in to them. They were faceless or they had many faces… they were warm. Casimir called. His face was growing dimmer and the dancing lights were fading. “Wait…” Ophelia leaped toward him.
 

“You look like a slut, you know.” Nina's voice snapped Ophelia out of her dream.
 

“When I was a little girl I was sick…” Ophelia muttered, sleepily. To no one or thing Ophelia replied in a matter more befitting a monologue. Nina stopped. “Like, really sick. I couldn’t leave my house or see any of my friends,
 
for fear of being exposed to their germs. Friends, ha! What friends I had. Most of them stopped pretending to care, and the rest only came around out of some obligation their parents bestowed upon them. You find out about people, when you don’t fit the mold. About their character, I suppose. Mostly you find out about yourself. When you’re that little, that new and developing, and that sick, and you actually survive… survive in to this world; a world unbending yet so full of fractures. Well…”
 

 
Ophelia looked down and played with her breasts. They were bulging out of her silk bodice. She lifted one up and let it drop gracefully. Nina blinked. “I did get better… Clearly, right?” Ophelia asked the empty question to no one, laughing causticly. “And I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“What did you have?”

“Does it matter…” Ophelia let go of her breasts and walked ahead of Nina. “Wait, you don’t know where you’re going!”
 

“I became the school enigma. Some called me a slut… others said I was the Virgin Mary, most just didn’t say anything. No one knew what to do with me either. I didn’t show up to parties; I stayed in my house when I wasn’t at school because, well, it’s obvious now isn’t it? I didn’t know anything else.”

“Why did they call you a slut, then?”

“Who knows. Boys will be boys? Girls will be girls? It was simpler than figuring me out. There… here… not anywhere…”
 

“Oh.” Nina watched her move. Her callipygous backside swaying back and forth in the silk. She was mesmerized. Ophelia turned around. “I really don’t know where I’m going,” she confessed. Nina shuffled to meet her.

“You know, I didn’t mean that. I would never have guessed you were a slut. In school or otherwise. It’s just I thought you were right behind me earlier today and now you’re dressed like this coming out of some room…”
 

“I wasn’t. A slut, that is.”

“You don’t understand… I meant… never mind.” Nina creased her brow. “I was. A slut. If you could call it that.”

“What else would you call it?” Ophelia turned to Nina, curious.

“Having a good time.” Nina laughed, kicking her heel. She looked to Ophelia, whose plump lips parted in earnest. “Being adventurous, accepting your most primal and sublime nature.” Ophelia nodded, contemplative. “I didn’t know who I was. But, well, do—” Ophelia interjected,“Do we ever?” Nina smiled wickedly.
 
“Exactly. And accepting the primeval as who we are… I mean, for me, accepting that carnal was a part evolution helped me become who I really am, or at least, who I am now.”

Ophelia stopped, confused. “What?”

Nina's large, brown cat eye’s narrowed lasciviously. She whispered, that Ophelia had to lean closely, allowing the silk of her dress to ruche and expose her breasts.
 
“Cavemen fucked and it’s not bad for me to do it as well.”

Twinkling music like wind chimes and waterfalls was coming from some place indiscriminate. Ophelia’s brow creased nervously, curiously. She tried to see beyond Nina. Nina held her at bay. “I’m going to warn you Lia that what’s in here is startling,” Nina whispered, “When I stumbled upon it I nearly fainted.” Nina looked over her shoulder. “I don’t know… I’m starting to doubt if I should have even taken you here.” Ophelia shoved Nina aside.

Ophelia stopped. “I know it’s ghastly…” Nina muttered.
 

“Oh my god.”

“I know.” Nina whispered solemnly, coming up behind her, following Ophelia’s gaze.