Dohmenic

Everything had gone so well. The Bhrakla Aurora went on without a hitch, and his Mihrisa, as he had predicted, enchanted the whole room with her beauty and voice. He had felt the musk of every male in the room change into lust as they laid eyes upon her and it had made him see red with anger.

But as he locked eyes with his breathtaking Mihrisa, she had sight for nobody but him. She looked so scared and tiny standing up on that huge stage, but as if merely looking at him, he had seen how her tense body visibly relaxed. She had let out a small sigh of relief she probably didn't even notice she did, but it meant all the world to him.

She found strength in him, her Dralan, the only male she was allowed to look at, talk to, and touch. And from the look in her eyes, she craved to touch him. Her body was shaking with a need that only he could satisfy and she knew that. She was his.

Her beauty had momentarily stunned him as well as all the other males. The minute she stepped out onto the stage, his heart accelerated. She looked absolutely mouthwatering and beautiful in her pure white dress, her golden locks and porcelain skin a sweet contrast. He had been completely dazed for a whole of 30 seconds, but then he remembered that she was waiting for his mark. That's when he had nodded and his Mihrisa had begun singing to him. Throughout the whole song, she never mispronounced a word and not a tone was out of key; she made him swell with pride. Literally.

As his Mihrisa backed off the stage after the performance, he felt in his breeches how he was rock hard, throbbing with need. He needed his Mihrisa, craved to touch her, damned if it was only on her hands and thighs. He needed to feel her in his arms, hear those small sounds she made whenever he did things to her that aroused her.

He was just about to excuse himself when he felt a chill go through his body. As if someone had dumped a bucket of ice over him, his entire body cooled.

Something was off. Hell, something was so fucking wrong that he for some reason wanted to kill someone. He tasted blood in his mouth, and that's when he knew.

His eyes shot open. Without even thinking of the celebration he was the host of, he shot out of his chair and stormed out of the ballroom. His guests glared shocked after his lethal form stalking out of the room, everyone clearing a path for him, but nobody dared speak a word to him. As he with a rigid body and clenched fists left the ballroom, he let his body guide him where he wanted to go.

His Mihrisa's blood was within him, that meant he shared a sacred bond with her; he could pin her down even if she was miles away, seek her out like a moth to her flame. Like a magnet, her blood within him pulled him to its owner, led him out into the hall, behind the stage, where his whole body then froze up.

The doors to the balcony stood wide open, and there, by the railing, his Mihrisa was kneeling before another male, drinking the blood from his vein. She moaned delightfully as she suckled, just as the male, whom by his appearance was one of his Kathmirs, cupped the back of her head and encouraged her to keep drinking.

Something exploded within him just then. An invisible force of energy burst from his body, expanded until everything within a fifteen feet radius got either knocked over, blow out or shattered. His body was shaking so fiercely, it felt as if the ground beneath him did, too.

Red was all he saw.

With a roar that carried all the way through his castle, maybe even his kingdom, the Dralan launched forward. The puny Kathmir didn't even see him coming before he was beneath him, fighting for his breath. His Mihrisa collapsed on the floor next him, out cold. Even in his hazy urge to do nothing but kill, his attention was brought to his Mihrisa who now laid lifelessly on the cold ground, barely breathing.

The Dralan roared at the male beneath him who was turning purple from being strangled. Before he gave up his last breath, the Dralan let go of him. When the male coughed and grew limp beneath him, the Dralan rose up and instantly came to his Mihrisa's side. Kneeling down carefully besides her, he cradled her fragile body to his.

Her face looked so pale, pain written across it. Blood was smeared across her lips and he instantly wiped it away. He didn't want another spec of that male's fucking blood on her lips, anywhere near her. The thought alone that the male's blood was now coursing through his Mihrisa's veins made him shiver with wrath.

He was going to slaughter that male with his bare hands and then watch as the life left his eyes. Then he would cut open his gut and drain him from his blood until not a drop was left in his fucking corpse.

Just then, he the sound of several footsteps approaching. Amongst them, he recognized Callath's whom he had grown up with. Growling, he uttered through gritted teeth before his friend even managed to ask, "Take that Kathmir to the dungeons! Starve him! Fucking bleed him until his life hangs on a thread!" He barked, still shaking with hatred. "But leave him alive! He is mine to finish!"

Without questioning, Callath accepted his orders and had the Kathmir dragged away who groaned weakly. He was weak from sharing his blood. In the meantime, the Dralan lifted his tiny Mihrisa into his large arms and looked upon her fragile body.

- The body that now held the blood of another male.

Oh, what had she done...

And more importantly, what are you now forcing me to do, the Dralan silent thought in a sizzling mood as he carried her to his bedchamber where he would await her awakening.

She had defied him, and now she would learn just what defying the Dralan would do to you.

Leyla

Somewhere in the vast distance, Leyla heard a sound. She couldn't define it, couldn't figure out what it was. Her mind... it was scrambled. Where was she? Why was she like this? What had happened? She couldn't remem--

As if she had been electrocuted by a blue lightning, her memories came flashing back to her like a vivid dream.

She remembered nearly passing out from thirst, nearly dying after performing at the Bhrakla Aurora. She remembered Ahrron showing up, coming to her salvation. He had graciously offered his vein for her in her hour of need, and then... then...

Nothing. After that, Leyla's mind was a big, blank nothing. She didn't remember finishing her feed. Maybe that was the reason. Should someone get interrupted during a feed, there could be severe consequences. In that moment, as the two vampires exchanged what they held most dearly to them, a sort of connection kindled between them. One part was giving, one part was taking, but what joined them in that connection was that they were both weakened.

When drinking and when feeding, you were both absorbing and transferring nourishment. It weakened both parties, but usually the one drinking had it worst. Except if the drinker drank too much. Then the feeder had it worst, growing weak from their fatigue.

Leyla now realized she had been interrupted while feeding. Her memories wouldn't validate it, only a gruesome sound that now suddenly resounded in her ears like a distant echo.

She realized it was that sound that had woken her up. A roar.

The roar of her Dralan.

Gasping loudly, Leyla jolted upright and found herself on the Dralan's bed. His silk sheets should have informed her of that, but until now, she hadn't even noticed she was still in the same dress she wore last night.

Last night? Had she slept all night? She didn't even know what time it was.

As her eyes automatically turned to look out the windows for signs of sunlight, she instead gulped when every drape was sealed shut. Only one candlelight burned and that one light illuminated a haunting figure standing by one of the windows. His large frame was accentuated by the shadows that the flame cast, making him appear so much more terrifying and threatening. As a blue, electric glow lit up from the male's eyes, Leyla gulped loudly again.

The Dralan.

Now as her senses sharpened to the extreme, she smelled the distinct scent of his wrath floating in the room like a thick, dark fog. The air was charged with the energy releasing from his shaking body. Rage, along with something bittersweet she couldn't pin down, fermented and ignited the room, told her of what was to come in the near future.

"M-my lord," Leyla very faintly whispered. Her heart was hammering in her chest, beating out of control. She had defied him. Oh sweet Miss, what had he done with Ahrron? Was he... dead? Her heart couldn't bare to think about it. He had saved her life and his only payment was death. What was the Dralan going to do with her now? Would he... get rid of her as well? Would he... degrade her status? She swallowed another impossible lump. "My lord--"

"Quiet," His deadly voice hissed so lowly it instantly shut Leyla up. Fear traveled down her back in the form of cold sweat when the Dralan took a step forward, advancing on her. "You... do not... utter a word to me, female."    

She whimpered fearsomely and clutched the sheets beneath her as he continued to stalk forward slowly, like a predator closing in on its pray. All the hairs on her skin rose when the energy intensified, alarmed her that he was very displeased with her. Maybe even furious.

But he had to understand that she had done it to survive! Leyla thought. If she hadn't, he wouldn't have had a Mihrisa or a Mihr to feed from, he would've thirsted as well. She realized she should've told him of her needs, though. Had he known she needed to feed, he would've found her someone to feed from. It was there that her mistake lied and there that the Dralan's wrath begun.

She would accept her punishment, be whatever it may. He was her Dralan and she was... a female. His command, above all the males, was her law.

"You were... perfect," The Dralan slowly uttered, so calmly and so deadly, it made her bones tremble. "You obeyed me. You were pliant. You didn't defy me."

Leyla shook as the Dralan stopped at the side of the bed, not moving. He didn't lean down, nor backed away, he just stood there and glared down at her, silently.

Seconds stretched. A full minute went by. Leyla hardly dared to breathe, simply just trembled as the Dralan stood over her and glared down at her like he was waiting for her to look up at her; challenging her.

But she didn't. That would only be truly foolish when he was in a mood like this. Whatever that mood was, she couldn't determine. There was anger, but there was also that bittersweet scent she couldn't place...

The next second she didn't have to. The Dralan went from complete and utter silence and calmness, to ferrous and wild.

In one movement, he had her down on the bed, face first, and was laying on top of her, growling harshly. Leyla let out a frightened and startled screech as the Dralan pinned her down, locked her with the force of his hand wrapped around her neck while the other oh-so-soothingly, threateningly, brushed over her bare back, down her spine. Leyla shivered at his touch and snapped her eyes shut.

He wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't. Would he? He wouldn't... force himself on her? Oh but if he did... it was within his fullest rights. He was the Dralan; he set the rules.

"Remember what I told you..." The Dralan suddenly whispered lowly in her ear, his voice brimmed with so much rage, every syllable was bathed in it. "... when you first came here? What were my rules, Mihrisa?"

He spoke her title in a mocking tone, as if it was a joke to even call her that. It made Leyla's skin tighten, for she feared that that meant he had already decided the fate of her; she would be a Mihrisa no longer after this.

"Y-you..." Leyla weakly whispered, her voice shaking throughout her reply, "you told me... a-as long as I o-obeyed you a-and followed your c-commands--"

"I wouldn't lay a finger on you," He growled into her ear, cutting her off. She felt the shivers go through her body as the warmth of his breath tickled her face and his hand tightened around her neck. The soothing hand on her back stopped caressing her and instead slid lower, dangerously close to her rear. Heat suddenly encased her.

"Please..." She feebly whispered. She wanted to say sorry, to beg his forgiveness, but the Dralan wouldn't have it. There was only one way this could go and it was his.

"Silence," He seethed in her ear. "You will keep your little mouth shut or I will find a way to shut it for you, understood? Trust me when I say, you won't like what I'll come up with, Mihrisa."

She whimpered beneath him again, but followed his order; she instantly closed her mouth and let him do the talking.

"So now you do my command," He lowly hissed. "Funny that when I told you never to touch, look or speak to another male, you didn't pay as close attention as you did just now. Tell me, Mihrisa, have I got your attention now?"

He squeezed her neck so tightly it hurt and she let out a little whimper, shakily nodding. Tears started to form in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She deserved this.

"Good," He growled. "So listen closely when I tell you this," He hissed in her ear and leaned in close to her. He grabbed her chin so that his lips was pressed right against her ear; "You will never drink from that male again, ever. He will never look at you again, nor you at him. If I ever see your eyes even look at the tip of another male's fucking shoe, I will end your status as a Mihrisa faster than you can blink," He spoke with so much fury, Leyla's toes curled in fear. "I will have you in my bed with your legs spread open, and I will fuck you until every drop of your pure blood is tainted with my semen. Understood?"

Leyla was trembling to the core, but something in his words caused a wave of something to surge through her. It landed between her legs and had her letting out a choked breath as she frantically nodded to his orders. She felt the Dralan shift on top of her and then a low rumble sounded from deep inside his chest.

"I trust you will keep your word, Mihrisa," He hissed in her ear. "But just to make sure... I will give you a taste of what will happen if you defy me ever again."

With that, his weight suddenly shifted and disappeared. The grip he had on her loosened and was gone within the second, making Leyla release a shocked breath.

What was this? Why did he pull back? Didn't he just say he would punish her? Then why did he--

She heard the sudden sound of a drawer being opened. The fresh blood inside Leyla's body froze as she heard the Dralan rustle with different things. Metal. Fabric. Leather. What was he doing?

She was took scared to dare turn her head and look. She stayed put, exactly where she was, not moving as much as an inch. Finally, she heard the rustling stop, and with a held breath, she waited for the next sound to tell her what would happen. Only, not a sound reached her ear.

Utter silence. Panic swarmed Leyla as she couldn't determine what was happening. The darkness in the room, the eerie silence... all she could hear was her own scared breath leave her lips in small puffs. The soft whimper that sometimes left with them.

And then she felt it. She nearly jolted when something tickled her bare foot, something leathery. I went up her ankle, then up the back of her bare shin, then tickled the backside of her knee. She trembled.

"If I were to keep you as a Mihrisa..." The Dralan then lethally spoke, ice lacing through every word, "I cannot touch you anywhere but your attached limbs. Those are the rules."

Those words made Leyla's body ease up if only a little. She was now under the impression that he wanted to keep her as pure as he desired her to be, but the way he spoke those words... something just seemed off.

"However," He continued, the feel of the tickling leather-something now making its way up her exposed thigh, "to every rule, there are exceptions. And Mihrisa... punishment is an exception."

As soon as his last word was spoken, Leyla felt a sting on her thigh, just as a sound snapped. She squeaked and jumped, clutched onto the sheets in an instant and then tried to comprehend what just happened as a burning sensation spread on her thigh.

The Dralan just spanked her.

Gulping down loudly, Leyla felt what she now could categorize as a riding crop, or whip if you will, run up her bare thigh where her dress had ridden up upon his tackling her to the bed. It taunted her, tickled her skin which was such an innocent sensation, but she knew that any moment, it could unleash harm and cause her pain.

Yet, then why was all she felt pleasure?

"Know that this," The Dralan spoke and spanked her thigh again, making her jump and screech again, "is nothing compared to what I could do to you, Mihrisa. I'm giving you the bare minimum. But know... that if you ever defy me again... I will give you anything but that."

His whip struck against her thigh again, harder this time. Leyla squeaked and trembled, felt how her thigh begun to burn even more. The tickle of the leather teased her again, lulled her into a false belief that that was all it could do, before the leather smacked her again, spanked her thigh red.

"Unng," She choked into the pillows, trying to keep her muffled sounds to herself. Each whip from his crop made another gush of wetness seek to her loins. She begun to feel clammy, felt how a throbbing begun, just a few inches above where the whip had marked her.

Just then, she smelled that bittersweet scent she couldn't place and smelled how it mixed with her own, which was the undeniable sweet perfume of arousal. It was like the bittersweetness mated with her arousal and created a new scent, a scent that, just like her own undeniable one, was one of carnal, fervid lust. The Dralan's bittersweet musk was of a twisted, hungry craving for her, and as Leyla realized that, she couldn't help but let out a soft, garbled moan.

"Make that sound again," The Dralan darkly said to her, spanking her harshly with the crop. "Make. That. Fucking. Sound. One. More. Time."

As the whip struck her again, Leyla involuntarily moaned again, this time louder. The sharp sting of the riding crop somehow elicited unholy sounds from her, and it made her wonder, what kind of sick female was she if she liked pain? Not just any kind of pain, the pain that the Dralan inflicted on her. She liked his punishment. That couldn't and shouldn't be right.

The Dralan growled behind her, and then before she knew it, he was on top of her again, pinning her down to the mattress. Leyla cried out when he less than gently grasped a chunk of her hair and yanked her up on her elbows, making her pant frantically. The next second, she felt the Dralan lean in over her and then she heard his feral roar.

Without any warning to let her know, the Dralan sunk his large fangs into her neck and drank in heavy gulps from her blood. Leyla let out a scream, just as a shiver rocked through her body and had her arms nearly giving out. The Dralan yanked at her hair again, forced her to stay put where she was while he fed. The large, deep-sounding gulps of his throat made her lightheaded, made her want to reach back and touch him.

Groaning lowly, as if he could read her mind, the Dralan readjusted himself on top of her and thrust his hard pelvis against her rear. Instantly, Leyla felt his rigid, stiff and throbbing member dig in between her globes, sliding up and down. The sensation had her shivering, letting out another deep, saturated moan.

With every rule, there were exceptions.

When feeding, the exception of the rule was, all petting was allowed as feeding originally only was to be done during copulation. The Dralan knew this, as did Leyla, she therefore also knew these were moments the Dralan took full advantage off, and Leyla just couldn't find it in her heart to complain.

As the Dralan greedily suckled at her neck, fed off her pure blood and grew stronger for each second, he continued to stroke her with his length, grind it against her to improve the blood flow within her body. All of it rushed up to her head where her cheeks were flaming up, and the Dralan, greedy and hungry as was, heartily drank what she had to give.

Leyla was nearly lost in bliss when he finally withdrew, and without a word uttered, pushed her into the mattress and then got off her. He didn't clean her wounds, didn't attend them, simply just left her weak and panting on his bed as he stormed out, slamming the door.

Leyla couldn't move.