Diary of a Vampire Read online

  DIARY OF A VAMPIRE

  By

  Ciarra Sims

  © copyright by Ciarra Sims, March 2005

  Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, © copyright March 2005

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Dear Diary: I do hereby solemnly swear to record on a regular basis the facets of my life in this journal. It may not be politically correct and it may violate the legends that surround my kind ... hell it may not even be glamorous, but it's my life so deal with it.

  Desdemonia A. Fairfield--2005

  April 1st

  Saw Jadair again last night. Cannot believe someone whose heart does not beat could be sooo hot. I've got to find a way to have him. Damn. Why couldn't I have been a size 5/6 when I died instead of an 11/12? A common misconception is when a person becomes a vampire they appear ethereally pale, beautiful and skinny with big boobs. Let me assure you, you come as you are and that means I'm a size 11/12 until eternity or until I'm staked by a woody. Don't get excited. That's a vampire joke for a stake through the heart. Which by the way is not a way to kill us. Stupid folklore. You can't believe everything you hear or read. Our hearts do not beat, so what do we care if you drive a stake through it? Well, we do care. It hurts like hell and really pisses us off. Highly not recommended.

  April 15th

  Had a nice evening. Went for a walk in the park. Mugged a mugger and had dinner with him. Okay, so he was dinner. No big waste except his blood was 80 proof and gave me a buzz. Cheap liquor. Must suck on a better clientele. Will troll uptown next weekend. Might even run into Jadair. A girl can always hope.

  April 17th

  Wow! Excellent idea to visit uptown. The warehouse where I reside does not compare to a downtown city loft. Damn! It just isn't fair how some of us undead bring in the big bucks and others of us hold down mediocre jobs. But you can only go so far with night school and correspondence courses.

  I looked good for my uptown sojourn, if I may say so myself. Wore that little black dress that makes me extra delicious and curvy. My legs are nice even if they haven't had any blood running through them since the late 60's. And my breasts ... well we all know a female vampire's breasts are her greatest lure for a male 'pire'. I guess that applies to any male, dead or not. But I have great breasts and Jadair is going to be sucking mine. Oh, yes. I have decided to make him love me with the all-consuming passion of the undead. I can't wait ... now that I have made up my mind. I am a woman who knows what she wants and will do anything to get it.

  April 18th

  Went to midnight mass. No, it's not true that we have no souls. We do die permanently when put to second death and it's only natural, er ... unnatural that we have to go somewhere. It's still heaven or hell, even for a vampire. After mass I stopped at the all-night Starbucks for a double mochaccino. I know I shouldn't but it is one of life's guilty pleasures. Also today begins Animal Cruelty Awareness Week. Will seek out cruel humans with a vengeance and make them pay ... big time. Being an animal lover and a vampire has its benefits. Thought about joining the 24-hr Fitness Center till I realized ... why? I think the coffee is making me hyper ... must try to cut back.

  April 19th

  Saw a man kick a stray dog tonight. Made me so angry I grabbed the s.o.b. and choked him behind a Dumpster, almost to the point of no return. Made do with sucking his carotid artery until he was anemic. Oh ... bit through his voice box too. He will never talk and if he does who would believe him? The dog is fine ... have named him Nemo after the Disney movie. He now resides at my warehouse. Bought Purina One and Kal Kan for him. Seems to be part lab, part mutt. Wags tail a lot despite his dubious upbringing. Good dog and will make great pet.

  April 24th

  Sorry for not writing. I know, I know ... I promised to write in this journal at least every other day but it was a busy week. Great news! Last night I found out where Jadair hangs out. It's the Midnight Hour underground club on 5th and Hager. I am sooo jazzed. If you think it's easy to find the hot spot where the crème de la crème of vampires hang out then you are as naïve as the general populace. Truth is, when you come over to the dark side it's like eternal high school. You are either part of the in-crowd or just a geeky wanna-be. Yeah, you guessed it. In high school I was not popular. No prom date ... no lost virginity on prom night. I lost my virginity at the Dairy Queen in Grand Rapids in the back seat of Freddy Harper's Corvair. It wasn't much ... Freddy prematurely ejaculated all over my black leather skirt. Try telling that to the dry cleaners.

  Oh, did I mention Freddy was the one who brought me over to the underworld in the sixties? So much for the myth that all vampires are great lovers. And yes, size does matter. Poor Freddy ... I used to call him my 'little gherkin'. Well, you get the picture. Jeez ... I wasn't exactly seduced by a vampire but rather probed by one with a teeny tiny dick.

  Anyway, I saw Evie Richards, who is dating a humpire (in the process of becoming a vampire but still not quite there and carries the human genome still), and she was invited to the Midnight Hour with her humpire. (They love half-and-halfs there). She was kind of bragging, but I didn't mind because she boasted Jadair was there a lot. Evie knows just bringing up Jadair's name is cool, so my instant fixation with her wasn't completely unexpected. I know Evie likes to go both ways and she just wishes she could get her hands (and tongue) on my fantastic breasts and luscious bod. Yeah, I'm getting full of myself, but after living in this same exact body for this long, trust me, you do get comfortable and can afford to think of yourself as all that.

  Evie is petite and blonde with a shaggy cut that makes her one pixie-looking elf with very sharp teeth. And because she has misconstrued my interest, she invited me as her guest to the Midnight Hour tonight. I am ecstatic to say the least. Like a giddy schoolgirl I plan every nuance of the evening ahead of time.

  I will wear my red dress that shows my cleavage, plump and voluptuous, threatening to spill over the neckline. (It's not going to, as my Wonderbra is fabulous at teasing but not delivering.) I may be a larger woman than is fashionable but no one can deny I am all woman. Jadair will notice me and will truly be mine. Oh yes, I am confident. Vampires are notorious stalkers and once we find our death-mate we obsess until we possess them. Watch out Jadair I'm coming for you!

  April 25th

  I am beside myself. Things did not go well, to say the least. Jadair was at the club but had his own humpire. It's not fair. How can I compete with someone only half-dead? But I digress. Let me explain the events and you can draw your own conclusion.

  I arrived at the Midnight Hour at 11:45pm. I was early I know, but I was excited and wanted to find the most centrally located spot to strike a provocative pose so Jadair could not fail to notice me. My dress was superb. Of crushed velvet and red as fresh blood, it had the cut of a Renaissance maiden from the waist down and the intensity of a sensual vixen from the waist up. My breasts pressed against the low, rounded neckline like two pumpkins, bursting to be free from their soft material cage. Any lover would give his life to lay his head on these precious mounds, or his soul to draw the dusky mauve nipples into his mouth.

  My lush curves were covered but flaunted proudly by the fitted bodice. I was turned on by my own self. I found the incurable itch to stroke my nipples though the velvet and pinch the areolas until they hardened into buds that tingled to be suckled. I wanted Jadair's tongue to trace the ridges and pruned indentation's until I moaned and begged for his attentions elsewhere. My clit was humming with the vibrations
of the music, wet and rubbing against my thong underwear. When Jadair walked in I would be ready. I would be the one his intense gaze fell on and devoured. Those hypnotic golden-green eyes would lock on mine and the rest would be history. It is well known if two vampires lock eyes, they can feel what each other feels and absorb their emotions ... feed on them and magnify them. It was perfect ... so perfect.

  But there was no sign of Jadair. The crowd surged around me. Vampires of all shapes and sizes danced macabre dances, arms twisting, bodies flailing. Vampires are terrible dancers. It's just the way things are. Rhythm and feeling the music is not for the undead. I know better than to try the art of seduction through dance. It is not pretty and looks more like a large fornicating pogo stick bouncing up and down. No, my original plan of standing in a proud, sexy pose, thrusting my heaving bosoms forward, was a much better foolproof one.

  Unfortunately a fool is what I got for my effort. Terry Plantar stumbled through the metal and wood detector at the front entrance and scanned his eyes around the room. I was careful not to lock eyes on anyone, saving my lust for Jadair. But Terry's eyes swept over me and I inadvertently caught his gaze. I felt the ooze of blackness radiating from his being. Terry likes rats and doing strange things with them. I cringed at his thoughts and preferences. I tried to shield my mind from his probe. My hot body shrank from his mental intrusion. But I was too late or my sexual prowess was too strong. He must have gotten a pheromone charged jolt as I saw his black leather pants tighten at the crotch and a hard-on bulged so fast, the surge caused his pants to split in front and a pair of rolled up socks fell out, along with Terry's chubby, stunted dick. Damn, my little pecker track record continues.

  By 1 a.m. it is apparent, despite total humiliation, Terry is in heat for me. He keeps humping my leg like a poodle. I cannot stand the annoyance much longer and will either have to rip out Terry's throat or find an all night tanning place and fry Terry. Oh, don't cringe like I'm a monster. Terry is a funny guy, just not when he's wrapped around your leg like ivy to a trellis. Terry also suffers from systemic ejaculatory orgasms; meaning he involuntarily twitches for a half-hour or so after he comes. It's amusing for the first hour or so, but since Terry also suffers from spontaneous orgasms, it's messy and downright gross during dinner. Yes, I have dated Terry in the past. Enough said.

  My saving grace comes in the form of Evie and her humpire. Terry is bemused by the androgynous mannequin-like work-in-progress that Evie introduces as Malcolm. He instantly twitches to an orgasm and Malcolm obliges him by sinking to his knees and sucking him off on the spot. I watch, amused and relieved. To each his own. Evie and her toy boys go off together and leave me in peace.

  At 1:30 Jadair shows up with a skinny brunette humpire latched onto his neck like a leech. I watch him fervently, but he refuses to lock eyes with me, or anyone else for that matter. It's nothing personal. It's all about control and Jadair is always in control. His dark hair is thick and wavy, though he ties it back just at the nape of his neck. He doesn't wear the standard vampire black, but like me flouts the norm and prefers brown or navy slacks, or on casual nights Dockers, or stone-washed ass-hugging blue jeans that make me cream my panties at the drop of a pin. Yes, I have lusted after Jadair long enough to know his wardrobe. Don't pity me ... believe me, I don't need pity. I will have Jadair. I swear it on my own grave.

  Jadair's brunette humpire is an insult to both humans and especially to vampires. She wears a baby-T too small and short, in some vague shade of pink. Her breasts are the size of walnuts ... shelled. Her stomach with its inset belly button is flat but not toned, and I think I see lint in the offensive orifice. Yes, I hate her. Don't think it's because she is petite and thin and I am medium height and plump. I have something she will never have ... pride and attitude. No, I merely hate her because she does not deserve Jadair. Why he chose her as a blood concubine is beyond me. Maybe she gives good head… or good blood. Either one is a dime a dozen and Jadair deserves more. He deserves me.

  I could have a humpire if I so desire. I could have brought one and used him to make Jadair take notice, as vampires always compare their blood concubines. It's a competition of flesh. But it is also a game. I never play games. I want Jadair in my bed and see no reason to suck on a humpire just for status. It is not my way.

  Jadair's humpire decides to seduce him with a dance. It should have been sexy as hell and I would have been further jealous. But the humpire is more than half through her transition and has lost her rhythmic response. She is two beats behind the music and looks like a pantomime of bad karaoke. Worse, the song is a club mix of Toni Braxton's Unbreak My Heart--long version. Someone needs to put her out of her misery. I will do it.

  I take a final drink of my Bloody Daiquiri and stalk up to where Jadair sits watching his twitching prodigy. Without remorse I reach out and jerk his puppet dancer off the dance floor. I could snap her neck and be done with it, but I am sympathetic to the poor creature's plight, despite my earlier animosity. After all, there is no telling where Jadair found her and any woman could fall under his spell quite easily. I know I did, and I am stronger than most. That's why he needs me ... to complete him, and take his restless energy and convert it to passion.

  It is not unusual for a virile or passionate vampire to have several humpires in progress. But he or she must not make a mockery of the practice and keep them as a harem. If they are of A positive blood type they can be brought over safely and become full-fledged creatures of the night. Other blood types are iffy ... some may turn vampyric, some may wither and die, but worse, some become loathsome, offensive, defective monsters, that kill on whim and without discretion.

  I am special. No really ... I AM SPECIAL. It's not an act of braggadocio that I state it, only that I am a blood taste-tester. It's a specialty gene that one out of a hundred thousand vampires possess. I can taste blood and gage its type on the spot, thus weaning out the defective victims and keeping the loathsome bottom feeders at a minimum. Because you only get one screw up as a vampire. You have to be responsible and know your victim, or like the human AIDS epidemic, things go awry and we as a race will become hunted, or extinct by our own hand. So, to make a long story short, you get one bad bite and you are history. A tribunal can and will hunt down a rogue vampire that kills without discretion and the penalty is death ... permanent death for all eternity. And his or her blood will be tested and the maker identified as we are all micro-chipped and then ... well you guessed it, the transgressor neutered permanently. And you thought we just ran around willy-nilly doing what we want to whomever we want? Nope, there are rules to everything, even our culture.

  But I digress again.

  Jadair is on his feet in a second. His reflexes are not dulled by his undead state. He growls under his breath as I have hold of his property. I look into those golden-green eyes and they are not receptive to my advances. They are feral as he protects his blood concubine. He would kill for her even though he does not love her. Such is the fickle vampire male.

  But I have a right to test any blood, whenever I want. It is the law. I possess the prerequisite brand of the fanged Carpathian chamois, also called a rupicapra, on my inside thigh ... high up. High enough that when I lift the blood red skirt of my dress, my scent filters into Jadair's discerning nostrils, and they flare as his bestial instincts battle with his civilized ones. It's a toss up which will win, and I look up with both dread and hope. Oh, I would love for Jadair to become crazed with lust and throw me on the table with the wild abandon that our kind hears about in urban myths. But it doesn't happen because Jadair is all about control. He isn't about to lose it in a public place in front of a crowd. But I, I would give anything to feel Jadair's cock between my silken thighs and taste his blood between my lips ... both pair.

  But Jadair merely stifles his growls and looks at my chamois brand with growing interest and respect. My kind is revered. I may not inspire Jadair's spontaneous lust, but I will have his respect. I can make or break a vampire by letting him kn
ow which victims are dangerous and which are free tickets to bliss. Many of my kind live the life of the rich ... the very rich, as they take money for their skills. Payoffs and bribes, if one is on the payroll to ruin another vampire by giving false information. A truly corrupt taster could lie and say blood was not tainted when it was. The vampire who believes this would unknowing create a monster. The penalty in any case is death for both the creator and the creature.

  But stupid me, with my ideals and integrity share my gift on friendship and for the good of my kind. Money never was my reason for living ... or dying.

  Jadair not only looks at the Carpathian brand, he seeks it out with the sensitive long fingers that I yearn to feel probe against my puffy nether lips and delve within. Jadair is smart. He runs the fingers over the indentation, feeling that it is real. The branding of the chamois is a ritual in itself, both painful and majestic in its significance.

  I still remember being summoned after my crossover. Hands lovingly held me down as the small metal iron seared into my thigh and I screamed in both agony and the pleasure of the pain. I orgasmed as I smelled my own flesh, the odor wafting in the air as someone thoughtfully massaged my breasts to take my mind off the pain.

  After the ceremonial branding, a tattoo artist made his own signature of vivid glorious color in and around the indentation. Mine is burnished gold, with lapis lazuli highlights outlining the graceful curves. There are fake brands that are mere surface art. But the real ones go deep into the skin, forever a part of the body ... my body. I feel Jadair's fingers trace the chamois. He presses deep around the design and trails down to just where my pubic hair has been shaved away for my thong. Then he brushes up with a devilish grin and just barely grazes my labia. I shudder but try not to let it be noticed. I have my pride.

  But I hear Jadair's low laughter and I know he has felt my response. My dark eyes seek his golden-green ones and he probes my mind. I try to shut down my heat so he cannot feel the fire that burns for him. But he must have breached my defenses before I could shield the want ... the need. His eyes darken until they are molten and I receive an image as vivid as a picture. Jadair is bent over me, his tongue seeking my pussy. He licks at it until I cry out and arch upward from a reclining position. But he forces me back down with his weight and well-muscled body. His tongue, no longer satisfied with the mere icing on the cake, plunges inside my cunt and devours me. I shiver and cry out before I begin the ascent to orgasm. But Jadair does not pleasure me for my own sake ... he rears back and I see his cock, wonderfully long and thick, the hood glistening with a drop of pre-cum that promises more ... so much more.