Ghoulfriend, Part 1

Hmkay…let’s see…
Once upon a time there was a cute goth girl who believed in vampyres. A lot of her friends believed in vampyres, or at least liked to dress up like vampyres, but this girl BELIEVED in them. The way little kids BELIEVE in Santa.
And she knew, deep in the cockles of her cold broken heart, that someday a vampyre would come for her, when she was at her most eternally beautiful, and seal her away from time forever, to elevate her to the caste that feeds on her mere mortal peers.
In time she would come to wish she’d thought it out better, but at the time it was a perfectly sensible dream to her. It wasn’t that she hated her life per se; she just didn’t think anything in it could stack up to an eternity of feeding on the weak.
Time passed, and her friends grew out of their various phases; but the cute little goth girl didn’t. Every year she grew a little darker, a little fairer, a little more perfect, and every year she Believed her guardian vampyre was coming for her.
One night – because there’s always one night, sooner or later – when she’d drank a little too much wine to try and forget the last man to break her heart, she decided it would be a fine idea to visit the graveyard. She always felt better in the graveyard. The dead are good listeners.
She drove to the graveyard, which probably wasn’t a great idea, but she was a bit past caring if she lived or died or took anyone with her, and walked among the headstones for a while before moving off to her favorite part, the statuary garden. She always liked to save the best for last, and she could feel the wine going to her head.
So it was that she didn’t notice she wasn’t alone when she reached the garden, and she wasn’t alone when she kissed the angel at the entrance full on the lips, and she wasn’t alone when she cried on the shoulder of the one she called the professor. It isn’t until she is yelling at the one that kind of looked like her newest heartbreak that she notices; and that was only because the stranger introduces herself.
“I see we have some common friends,” the stranger says formally.
The girl spins around, gets a little dizzy, and sits down hard, her vision swimming. Dimly she can make out the stranger indicating the angel, dark lipstick smeared across the stone face. “Who’re you?” she slurs, bare feet tangling in her long velvet dress as she struggles to stand.
“Oh come now, don’t ask silly questions. You know who I am, just as I know who you are Zoe. I’m your guardian vampyre.”
Just then the full moon comes out from behind a cloud, illuminating the stranger; her dark eyes and sensuous lips, her long, straight, silky black hair, flawless alabaster skin, bare shoulders, tightly corseted curves, and intricate gown leaving quite the impression on the drunk girl.
“Alright. So where’re your fangs?”
“Again with the silly questions. This is going to take all night. I hate to rush things, but the sun Will rise eventually. Look into my eyes, won’t you?”
The girl does as she is told, gazing deep into the stranger’s eyes. The dark eyes are mysterious, entrancing, the division between pupil and iris impossible to find, and as she gazes she can feel herself rising gracefully to her feet.
“Now, is there anything else you’d like to do before you leave this mortal world?”
“…y-yes…mistress…”
“Name it.”
The girl blushes furiously, even compelled as she is, the words and idea so foreign to her but also so right.
“…I…I want…I want you, mistress…”
The stranger cocks an eyebrow, smirking playfully. “Do you mean sexually? The world is your oyster and you want to have relations with a vampyre?”
She blushes even deeper, but the alcohol gives her resolve. “Yes, Mistress. I’ve never been with a woman…and I want you.”
“You know, obviously, that you can try this from both sides?”
The girl nods her head firmly, and the stranger rolls her eyes, surrendering to the madness.
“Whatever Zoe, it’s your afterlife. I’ll take the lead, if it’s all the same to you” says the stranger, striding forward confidently, heels clicking on the cobblestones and then rustling in the grass.
“Please,” says the girl as she surrenders to her strange new companion.
The vampyre wraps her arms around the girl gently, one arm encircling her corseted waist while the other pets her cheek fondly as she stands face to face with her prey, the girl’s breath warm and frantic on her cold, impassive but soft skin.
As the stranger leans in to kiss her Zoe closed her eyes, surrendering as the stranger’s fingers runs through her hair, pulling her in tight to a passionate kiss, their full breasts pressing against each other, corsets straining to contain them as the younger girl grinds eagerly against her new lover, shame and taboo forgotten in the heat of the moment under the watchful dead eyes of the graveyard statues.
Zoe whimpers softly into the kiss as the vampyre expertly twirls her without breaking the kiss, the stranger’s cool wet tongue wrestling with hers as the girl is arched backwards against the vampyre’s ample chest. She feels the preternatural fingernails tracing lightly down her chin to the front laces of her corset, the sharp nails easily slicing through the silky ribbon like a razor without so much as scratching the girl’s soft living skin. Before the vampyre’s hand has even passed her navel the elaborate garment gives up and falls away, baring her exquisite breasts to the cold night air, the girl moaning a weak protest into her lover’s mouth before surrendering once more to the passion.
The vampyre breaks the kiss at last, kissing across her cheek to her neck, lingering hungrily for a moment before whispering into her ear “be as loud as you want; there’s no one for miles, I checked.” She then begins squeezing Zoe’s full, firm breasts, kneading them with preternatural strength that belies the delicateness of her hands, a strange pleasure building in the girl’s drunken body.
Zoe whimpers a little as the impossibly sharp nails pinch her delicate, incredibly sensitive nipples, leaning her head back on her lover’s shoulder in surrender as the blade like fingernails scrape the surface without drawing blood, pinching and tugging with unparalleled skill, the pain and pleasure overwhelming. “Yes,” she whispers into the darkness, “yes.”
“Mm, you’re just about ready to burst…are you sure you can handle this Zoe? I don’t want you to be cross with me for eternity for freezing you in time only After driving you mad.”
“P-Please” she begs weakly, “Just d-don’t stop”
“As you wish” says the stranger, fingernails deftly shredding her skirt to the hip, baring her lacy panties.
Zoe begins moaning loudly, panting hard as the vampyre softly and slowly runs her strong, delicate fingers down her stomach, down the V of her hips in a slow, shuddering, smoothing motion, and finally runs one finger rhythmically along her slit through her panties. The girl shudders and moans louder, bucking her hips eagerly against the firm digit, feeling her expertly built climax about to break free.


She cries out as she experiences her first climax with a woman in years, the stranger holding her close on her lap as she lowers the girl to a sitting position, Zoe’s clothes shredded on the grass as the statues look on, moonlight washing over the two lovers in the cool summer night air as the vampyre easily tears off the lacy panties and tosses them aside, deft and dangerous fingers setting about expertly drawing out her orgasm even as they start on the next.
The vampyre nuzzles her neck fondly, deeply inhaling the scent of the living girl’s fear, exertion, embarrassment, shame, smelling her hair, her skin, her sex and sweat as the preternatural digits circle her clit, dangerous nails careful not to so much as nick her most delicate and precious anatomy as they slowly encourage the trembles into quivers, the quivers into tremors, the tremors into spasms and the spasms into quakes of pleasure. Zoe gasps desperately for breath as another orgasm comes, too powerful and too soon on the heels of the first, her body unable to endure so much pleasure so hard and so fast, leaving her literally breathless, her vision going dark on the edges as the vampyre loosens her grip a little, slowing her assault on the quivering clit as she thrashes madly in her arms.
The vampyre holds her gently as, moments from blacking out, Zoe finds her breath and begins panting wildly, her breath slowing gradually, heart pounding, sweat drenching her bare body. She spasms still with the aftershocks as her lover lays her out on the grass, giving her a moment to recover as the stranger carefully unlaces her own corset, baring herself to her prey. Zoe notices that while the vampyre’s breasts may be a little smaller than her own, they have a curious firmness to them, a statue like perkiness, and a uniquely undead alabaster cast. The vampyre caresses her full, preternaturally firm breasts for a moment before letting the gown fall to her feet, stepping out in knee-high boots, exposing herself fully to her lover.
The vampyre kneels beside her, then lies down on her side, snuggling the living girl, her cold dead body strangely soft and comforting. “What do you think, Zoe? Do you wish for an eternity with a body such as mine? To watch those you have known and love grow old and die, while you remain forever young and beautiful?”
She thinks briefly on the man who just broke her heart, and the pleasures she’s just experienced. “Yes, Mistress. I wish it.”
“Are you ready?”
“…”
“Why do you hesitate?”
“…mistress, when I am like you, may I have you again?”
The vampyre laughs, a cold, clear sound like the striking of a silver bell. “If you wish it, of course. But I think you will find The Embrace is far more fulfilling.”
Zoe nods, closing her eyes for a moment, determination writ large on her face, her bare body tense with apprehension. “What do I have to do?”
“It’s the easiest thing in the world. You just have to die, then drink when I tell you to. I’ll take care of the rest.” Without further preamble the stranger wraps her long, slender legs around the living girl’s waist in a viselike grip, wraps her clean arms around her curvaceous chest, and sinks her razor-sharp teeth deep into the soft skin of the girl’s neck.
The girl cries out in agony, screaming as she is killed, no touch of pleasure in the pain as she feels her life slipping away, everything she’s ever known drifting into irrelevance. She feels control slipping away and finally lets it go, drifting helpless in the vampyre’s embrace, feeling an icy tingling in her toes, sharp like walking into an icy river, but numb like a limb that’s fallen asleep at the same time, her every nerve incredibly sensitive but somewhat distant.
The tingle slowly, slowly floods her body, from her toes, up her feet to the ankle, up her calf, over her knees before it starts in her fingertips, up her thighs and hands at the same time, picking up speed as it covers her hips and wrists, the throbbing ache in her pussy stronger and yet seeming farther away as the tingle spreads up to her elbows, over her stomach, starting in her scalp and spreading down over her face like fingers crawling down over her skin, over her shoulders as she tries to scream and finds she already is, but there’s no more sound, no more breath as her breasts go numb, then her lungs, and finally her heart slows, slows, slows, and stops.
She lies there, floating in a space between life and death, the statues of the dead watching her as a girl who died long ago draws back her fangs, crawling over to crouch over her helpless, limp form, the slightest contact sending ripples of sensation over her dying body. Slowly and smoothly the vampyre draws her own wrist across her mouth, loosing a torrent of blood on the prone girl’s shapely chest before she gets it over her mouth, pressing her cold flesh to Zoe’s lips. “Good so far; now drink.”
With the very last shred of her strength she obeys the command, swallowing one last time. As the undead blood spreads quickly through her dead body she feels her strength returning little by little, giving her the power to sip again, then deeper, deeper, drawing the vampyre blood out in an unbroken stream. The stranger gasps in strange pleasure as Zoe drinks deeply from her wrist, the tingling filling her as well as her own blood is drained in turn.


The stranger pulls her wrist out of Zoe’s hungry mouth, the wound tearing open, blood splattering the prone girl’s face and neck for a moment before the wound heals.
“More!” she pleads as she writhes weakly beneath her new mistress. “Please! I need more!”
“You have enough…for now,” the vampyre purrs, smirking down at her victim. “Enough to be my ghoul at least.”
“No! You promised!”
“Did I? Did I really?” The vampyre pats her cheek affectionately, rubbing her hands proprietorially down Zoe’s bare, bloodsmeared chest. “Well, if you’re a good little minion, perhaps I Will make you a vampyre. In time. For now, as a ghoul, you are free from mortal concerns; starvation, suffocation, exhaustion will not kill you. You shall be my agent of the day and my servant of the night. As it stands, I have pulled you out of time. You will forever be as you are: Young. Beautiful.” She leans in close, smiling mischievously, fangs bared: “Bloodthirsty. Insatiable. And completely at my mercy.”
“Mistress…”
“It is time to thank me for your gift,” she purrs, taking a fistful of the girl’s hair. Zoe scarcely has time to gasp before her face is shoved into the vampyre’s cool, wet pussy, the undead power throbbing just beneath the surface, so close yet sealed behind flesh impenetrable to her mortal teeth. She tries desperately to bite through but she may as well try and bite one of the statues, an aching jaw her only reward as she surrenders to her uncontrollable desires, her tongue lovingly caressing her mistress’ quivering clit. The vampyre moans lustily as she rides her helpless ghoul’s bare body, holding her head firmly to her pussy with one hand while the other caresses her pale breasts, the cool night air exhilarating on her lifeless skin.
The girl exhibits remarkable skill for a novice and incredible endurance for a mortal, and the pleasure builds within her vampyre mistress as the tip of her soft, warm tongue circles and slaps the clit, caressing it lovingly and longingly as she surrenders to her own carnal desires, both hands smoothing down her hips as her mistress did just moments before to pleasure herself. She moans low into the vampyre’s pussy as she caresses her own clit with her fingertips and her mistress’ with her tongue, breathing frantically through her nose as the preternatural blood pushes her beyond normal human endurance, the tingle of near suffocation the merest distraction as she brings them both to a simultaneous, powerful orgasm.


Zoe slowly draws out the pleasure, her body moving in rhythm with her mistress as she is compelled to build up every cresting aftershock into another smaller climax, each one waning slightly in intensity until her tongue is merely caressing the vampyre’s clit soothingly.
“My, what a talented little ghoul you are. Are you quite sure you haven’t done this before?” she teases as she rises over her prey, stretching luxuriously in the moonlight.
“No Mistress. I mean Yes Mistress. I mean, Yes I’m sure I haven’t Mistress,” she stammers, propping herself up on her elbows as she tries unsuccessfully to rise.
The vampyre laughs coldly, then pins her with a glare. “You haven’t forgotten what you are already, ghoul? You are my vassal. You may rise only when it pleases me. If I choose to leave you here for the groundskeeper as a little offering, I may; if I choose to make you beg for his wrinkly old cock, you will. You will do everything I command, and you may as well learn to like it because it isn’t going to change. Do I make myself clear, Ghoul?”
Zoe whimpers a little but puts on a brave face, nodding solemnly.
“Good. Now rise and caress me.”
She rises smoothly and eagerly to her feet, approaching her statuesque vampyre mistress, their bare, curvy bodies entwining in the moonlight as the stranger seizes a fistful of Zoe’s hair, pulling her head back as she leans down into a passionate kiss. The ghouls tongue hungrily probes her mistress’ mouth for any taste of blood, her eager young body writhing desperately against her Mistress’ cold, impassive, perfect body.
“Mm,” purrs the vampyre as she breaks the kiss, “intriguing. I have been told that what the victim felt when they are made will echo in their eternity; perhaps your destiny is to be forever a randy little ghoul, insatiably craving sexual congress?”
Zoe whimpers a little at the thought, her body clearly aching for her Mistress’ touch, the overwhelming need so sharp it hurts.
“Too bad…you’ll fuck, and fuck, and fuck, and never be truly satisfied. Hmmhmmhmm, only your Mistress can give you satisfaction. And I will only reward total, heartfelt, dedicated service. Would you like to see?” The ghoul can only whimper in weak protest as she is led to a statue of a young man with angel wings, the stone still pristine and smooth, his hands spread palm up at his hips, fingers splayed slightly. “Climb up there and put your pussy in his hand.”
She hesitates only a moment, and feels a bullwhip crack across her backside. She cries out and looks around for the source of the attack, another lash crossing her chest, her glorious breasts jiggling but her flawless skin unmarked.
“I can also give you such pain that you will wish you were never born, ghoul. Now do as you are told, or it will get worse.”
With a whimper the girl scrambles up the smooth stone pedestal, her bare feet sliding clumsily as she desperately seeks purchase, finally able to haul herself up with her hands around the statue’s waist. Looking down at her impassive Mistress hesitantly, she lowers herself into the statue’s hand. She gasps in overwhelming pleasure the instant she makes contact, hips bucking so hard she nearly tumbles off, her Mistress’ restraining hand on her ass holding her in place as the ecstasy leaves her breathless.
“Interesting…it seems that for you, all your pain and all your pleasure has a sexual flavor…how delightfully vulgar…”
She squirms in discomfort as she struggles to contain herself, heart thundering in her chest as she gasps for breath, each shuddering orgasm more powerful than the last until her body gives up entirely, heart stopping cold, mouth agape in a breathless, silent scream of pleasure.
“Mm, you see there are certain…advantages to leaving behind mortal requirements, yes?”
She nods wordlessly as she writhes against the statue’s hand, the unimaginably pleasure washing over her in waves, her every muscle tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing as the joy of serving her mistress well caresses her nude, warm, half-living body.
“Tsk. That’s enough of that.” Another lash of agonizing pain tears across her body, throwing Zoe back onto the ground.
“Mistress, p-please, more!”
The vampyre smirks down at her prey, tracing a razor-sharp fingernail across her warm breast, carving a superficial but bloody wound and licking it hungrily before it heals.
She lets out a hiss of pleasure, arching her chest towards her mistress, her fatigue evaporating at the promise of pleasure.
The mistress cradles her head in one hand, drawing Zoe up to her knees before the statue, her love juices still dripping from his stone fingers. “Well?”
She crawls forward obediently, licking and sucking her own musky juices from the statue’s inert hand, gazing up at the cracked and weatherbeaten face as her tongue plays around the lifeless digits. She draws back with another hiss of pleasure as her mistress bites into her neck again, followed by a gasp of shocked ecstasy as she drinks her in, the delicious lightheaded tingling quickly enveloping her nude form, every nerve afire with anticipation and numb delight as she strains to take in every sensation.
Slowly, smoothly, the vampyress kneels behind her prey, placing her own knees between the girl’s calves, forcing her legs to spread a little. She slides her hands softly down the girl’s silky shoulders, a trail of tingling pleasure following every touch, stopping when she reaches the girl’s wrists and taking them firmly but gently in her hands.