Author's note: My first floor, expensive-ass apartment is structurally damaged with pops and cracks with a pretty massive "V" in the ceiling where it is "sinking" (collapsing?) above 6 foot stilts. (No, really, that apartment part is true as fuck right now). Hopefully i live to tell this fucking tale. I'm going to find out what sort of freaky shit is going on. And for those who need things true to life and tight ass unplot-holey, life is fucking boring. And don't actually try to fuck someone in a collapsing building. Everyone's over 18.
"The wall is tilted?" I point to the fireplace.
The vampire hums against my neck. "Mmm hmmm." His soft lips ignite the fire within my naked body. "I want you bent over against it."
It might provide a new angle, but I hesitate. The look in his eyes holds the warning of the flogger if I refuse his wishes.
"Yes, Sir." I obey, of course, unsure hands gripping the mantle where shackles on six inch chains dangle. I let him restrain my wrists to the sinking corner of the room. If you think that's unwise or unbelievable, go ahead and give me a better option.
He's behind me in a moment, his eight inch cock rubbing higher than the small of my back. Fangs scrape the length of my neck. He knows I crave to feel them pierce my flesh. Instead of fulfilling my desire, he uses his knee to knock my soft thighs wide.
I whimper and cling to the uneven mantle as he grips my hips and lifts me from the ground at a perfect angle to receive him. With his plunge, I slam forward, almost hitting the brick in front of me. A long crack forms at level with my eyes.
Every thrust sends me higher into an ecstasy I had never known. Even better than the few months since he found me. From who or where is irrelevant, Sir is my life now. And he has thoroughly shown me how well he knows every one of my tight plot-holes of this new life.
I bite my lip in an attempt not to cry out--that might turn on the neighbors above us and the whole place might collapse by the non-stop banging.
He hooks an arm under my stomach and frees his other hand to coil my long ponytail. So good, he feels too good for me not to. I struggle to fight it, to make the blissful feeling between my legs go away. If I cum before he gives me permission--
I can't hold it back. My walls clench around his length, sending him into a frenzy, pounding so hard my grip on the mantle cracks a piece off. I drop it as the warmth of his seed fills me.
His grip on my hair tightens. "I didn't give you permission to release, Dearest."
Shamefully, I cast my eyes to the chips of sheet rock that had fallen in front of me. He won't sink his fangs in now, that's certain. When he unlocks the cuffs, he orders me upstairs to the third floor apartment. To the madam attorney who'd moved out but never truly left.
After a cautious walk up the already cracked and uneven stairs, I knock upon her door. I suppose I could do the wise thing and get the hell out of the rickety building, but that would make for a pretty fucking boring story.
After a few knocks, the woman answers. Her dark eyes rove over my black, lace-trimmed halter and mstching miniskirt then lower to my bare feet.
I blush at her hunger and hand her Sir's phone with pictures of me bound to the warped wall, knowing better than to speak. The muffled whimpers coming from the direction of her hearth is a reminder of the time she heard my voice. I won't risk punishment by speaking in her presence.
I chance a glance at the naked minotaur who's got a ball gag in his mouth and his hands are bound from the ceiling. What pretty tattoos travel the length of his arm all the way down his sides to center and swirl downward, disappearing behind the girthy, thirteen inch cock that stood ready for the dominant woman's abuse. I let my hungry gaze trail down his massive, furry thighs to his hooves. No doubt her foot fetish includes hooves.
The attorney clears her throat, forcing my attention to shift back to her. "File a complaint with the city." She proceedes to recommend several websites so I know Sir's rights as a tenant.
I sigh. This will be a lot of work. On my way down the steps to the apartment below, the maintenance man eyes me as I pass. Sometimes he pays a bit too much attention, and not just to me, he's always watching people, like in the way you wonder whether hes truly maintenance at all.
At the apartment above mine, my mysterious neighbor steps out. At the sight of me, he poorly attempts to push the large, human-sized luggage behind him into his door. He glances in the direction of the setting sun.
"Hi Mr. Porter," I begin.
