Dominance was a funny thing to Myrnin. The thought of him bearing dominance in a political situation made him shudder out of distaste and dread; he was no politician. But the idea of taking a woman sexually and making her so completely his made him shudder out of desire…
How he longed for it—to hear a woman scream at the surprise of being shoved into a dark alleyway. To force her to her knees and take her from behind. To see this woman's tears that were caused by the force of him slamming into her repeatedly until he came. To hear her cry out as he spurted inside her.
This, Myrnin longed for.
He had done it before, and now he felt the strong need to do it again—to assert his dominance over a woman who would be entirely subject to his will.
Myrnin had an urge, and when he had urges, he bowed to them and indulged.
In less than five seconds, he was out in the dark of the night, standing in the street, his erection stiff against his out-of-date trousers. Something strange was around his neck and brushing against his torso, a floaty material he could not recognize. He looked down. A scarf?
Myrnin did not remember dressing himself with such a modern-day accessory, but then, Myrnin didn't usually remember much these days. He unwrapped the fabric from around his neck and put it into the pocket of his jacket.
Myrnin looked around. It was not incredibly late, but the winter months caused the sun to fall earlier in the evening and the dark came before it was convenient to anyone but the vampires.
Only one lone man was quickly making his way down this street. Myrnin watched with reflective, catlike eyes as the middle aged male walked under the orange light of an old roadside lamp. Once he passed, Myrnin began walking and soon reached the park.
It was very nearly silent here except for a pair of light footsteps coming in his direction. There—making her way down the sidewalk, head down and pace moderate—his victim. She had hair of medium length that was tied at the nape of her neck, was slight in stature, and had an overly large book bag slung over her small back. So she thirsted for knowledge... a virtue lost to this new generation. She was perfect and there was no doubt in his mind that he would not have her.
Myrnin snuck up behind the girl without her seeing him and followed a few feet behind.
She must have sensed his presence behind her, because she turned to look. "Who's there?"
Myrnin suppressed a dark chuckle as his erection grew larger at the anticipation of what was to come. His hands went into his pockets and in one he found the scarf he'd taken off earlier. Fingering the soft material, he wondered if this would be useful to him in any way.
"What do you want?" Her voice was too soft to make her question sound like a demand.
Surely this girl would have no weapon to defend herself with. And even if she did, how could she know that silver was the true anathema to vampires rather than crosses? Even so, the backpack slung around her shoulders would make her clumsy and slow.
"What do you want?" she repeated hesitantly.
Myrnin stepped partly out of the shadows while keeping his face hidden in darkness. "To stake a claim," he said, his voice silky smooth and dangerously polite. He took another step forward.
"Stay away," she warned, though not moving for any concealed weapon on her person. "I—"
Before she could finish her threat, Myrnin had pushed her into an alley that was partly illuminated by an old streetlamp. In another moment, his scarf that had been in his pocket was forced into her mouth to stop her screams from piercing the night. The girl's backpack was thrown aside as she was pressed face-first into a brick wall.
Her hands moved to either side of her head as she tried to keep her skull from colliding forcibly with the bricks as Myrnin's rough movements pushed her into the wall. The fabric in her mouth caused her shouts to come out muffled and it gave Myrnin great pleasure at hearing her cry out each time he touched her.
With one hand, he took hold of her shoulder so he could keep the girl steady and with the other he reached down between the girl's legs and unzipped her pants. Myrnin silently cursed the tightness of them, but got them pooled at her feet quickly enough.
How old was she? he wondered. Surely over sixteen, but maybe less than twenty. She was a thin creature—perhaps almost too thin for Myrnin's tastes—but her physique compensated for her lack of a proficient flesh-to-skin ratio.
As Myrnin was pulling down the girl's undergarments, she whimpered and the sound of her fear caused his arousal to harden. He smiled darkly at her fright then took one of his slender fingers and inserted it inside of her.
"A virgin?" he said in surprise. Myrnin had not had a virgin in a very long time. Such a pity he didn't feel up for playing the game of wooing the girl first and then taking her virginity swiftly and passionately; that was always such fun.
She protested profusely as he stroked her inside walls, but she was unable to make coherent words around the inhibiting scarf stuffed in her mouth. She was shaking her head and tears were streaming out of her eyes.
Myrnin loved it.
He pulled his finger out of her slit and said, "Hold still for me, darling," as he undid the tie to his trousers, pulled them down, and positioned himself near her entrance.
Sobs were omitting from her mouth as his length moved around her opening, preparing it for his penetration with his precum.
"I've been told this hurts, child," he whispered sensually into her ear, "but I also hear I am a very gentle lover."
In one swift motion, Myrnin's full length was buried in the girl's channel and blood was trickling down her legs as he took her maidenhead in one fell swoop. Entering her was painful even to him; she was tight and unwilling, but in a few slow thrusts she was ready to have him.
Myrnin began pumping into her faster and harder, burying himself to the hilt and feeling himself touch her cervix wall with the head of his penis. When he felt he was about to come, he reached between them and began rubbing her clitoris which she scarcely responded to except to let escape a whimper.
In one more push, he was coming inside her, making her slick with his seed. He would be able to take her again, but this time with less discomfort.
Myrnin pulled out and tore the scarf out of the girl's mouth and then tied it around her eyes. He pushed her to the ground so she was laying on her back and spread her legs apart so he could enter her again. It was easier the second time round, and the girl had fallen silent, accepting his thrusts wordlessly. This wasn't right.
He wanted to make her scream.
"I never asked your name," Myrnin said, an amused smile playing with the corner of his lips as he continued to move in her.
She began crying again but not because he spoke to her: Myrnin felt the walls of her vagina beginning to clench around his penis and she was coming against her will, crying for it to end.
"No, please," she choked out, whether to him or to her own body, he did not know. "Stop it, please."
The feel of her walls pulsating around him caused him to lose his control and he came inside of her for the second time tonight.
"Please, no more," she whimpered.
A coy spirit toyed with his mind as he said, "We will stop only if you force your body to refuse to come this time." She was silent. He removed himself from her insides and said seductively into her ear, "It sounds easy, does it not?"
Myrnin reached up and took her small shoulders in his hands and flipped her over onto her knees. From behind he began slamming into her again and again, her torso propped up on her elbows and her forehead glistening with sweat from trying not to give in.
"You have the power to stop this," he said as he snaked one hand up the front of her shirt, around some underclothing and feeling her breast. He stroked the nipple and she gasped in surprise as he pinched the bud delicately with his fingers. "So stop it," he said huskily.
"I—" She began to scream as she came again, but Myrnin covered her mouth before it became too loud. Quickly, he untied the scarf from her eyes and then shoved the thing in her mouth.
Once she was finished, he turned her over onto her back and spread her legs apart. Instead of inserting himself into her, his mouth went down to her bud of sensitive nerves and his tongue flicked over it expertly. She inhaled sharply and then tried to close her legs, but to no avail; Myrnin was too strong.
With one of his hands, he kept her legs apart and with the other, he put his fingers into her hole, pushing them in and out in a quick rhythm as he devoured her clitoris. Soon, the girl was having trouble breathing and she was gasping for air behind the cloth in her mouth. With one final curl of his fingers within her and a soft nibble at her bud, she came again, screaming into the scarf and trying to lash out with her foot.
Myrnin licked his lips and then tied the scarf around her eyes once more. He stood, tying his pants and straightening his shirt.
"I thank you," he said, the smirk apparent in his voice.
With that, he left the girl lying there, blind to everything, bloodied, bruised, and sobbing.
Urges, indeed…