Erotic Stories from Wylde in Bed - 42: 42 -A dark BDSM Vampire Erotica

Episode Date: January 25, 2021

Warning this is a darker story than most and does contain references to torture and BDSM.You know you can visit wyldedesires.com for even more intense pleasure and endless satisfaction.Abigail's twin sister has been brutally tortured and murdered. After years of trying to find her murderer, to wreak the revenge her sister deserves.When she is given a lead to where he is, the owner of a BDSM nightclub right in the city where Abigail lives, she can barely believe her luck.She just has to figure a way to get past his defenses and murder a 600 year old vampire.Simple.

Please remember this is an adult's only podcast and does contain some very sensual themes. So please only listen to this podcast if you are happy to explore your deepest sensual fantasies with me and are of a suitable age. Hi, it's Devlin and welcome to another episode of Wild and Baird. Your Monday night destination for salacious stories. sensual satisfaction and finger-licking good fantasies now as you enjoy tonight's little story

you know you can enjoy even more intense pleasure at least satisfaction by coming to some of wild desires.com but you can experience the full power of experience lorotica completely it's very high

and we're to say now just as a warning Tonight's story is very dark. There is a strong element of BDSM. So please, if you are of a fragile disposition, you have been warned. Now you know this podcast is best enjoyed laying on your bed. Just put your earbuds in, close your eyes,

and surrender to the pleasure of my voice, moving over and inside you. And when you're ready, just go ahead and take a deep breath and hold it for a moment and let it go with a sigh, letting go of any tension, any stress. For the next 30 minutes or so, it's just you and my voice. This is your time, your time to relax, your time for sensuous satisfaction. Your time to release that in a woman as you listen to my voice. and feel the story moving through your body. As you enjoy tonight's show,

Abigail Harper sat in the darkness alone. She had followed up some pretty strange leads, but this had to be the weirdest so far. A breeze caresses around her as if a door had been silently opened somewhere in the distance. And then, just as quickly the breeze is gone, and in the darkness, She can see green eyes studying her. Somewhere from the shadows, a whisper emerges.

We have found the man you seek. Was it a whisper? Did she hear it with her ears, or did the words just appear in her mind? I have no idea who you mean, she said defiantly. You know exactly who we mean. Four hooded figures separate themselves from the shadows. From their silhouette, Abigail, guesses they must be human. But something about them doesn't quite hold with the concept of human.

Deverro, the voice continues. He is here in the city. Smiling, Abigail says, what is your interest in him or me? We have history with Devereaux. It would suit us if he was no longer here, if he was no longer anywhere. Waiting for a moment,

Abigail considers whether these humans might actually be worse than Devereux. But no. She knew that Devereux was a man that tortured and murdered her twin sister. He was the demon she knew of Whatever these things were They had never caused her any pain So right now they were friends Or as close to friends

As she might ever find in a situation like this Okay tell me more She utters repressing the earth to sound at least happy There is a file on the table in front of you It tells you everything you need to find him. Before the words have entered her mind, Abigail notices a manila file on the table that she had never noticed before. In fact, she couldn't remember recalling seeing the table either.

Thank you. Do you want to report back? We will know the outcome, the voice said flatly. Remember, Devereux is very old and very cunning. You will have to push yourself to the limits and possibly beyond them to complete your task. Do not rely on garlic or crucifixes. You must drain him of every last remaining drop of blood. But first you must set your mind. This might help you to do that.

Without warning a clamping sensation fixes around Abigail's head as if a large hand. were clasping her temples. And then a flash of green light blinds her before it recedes, fading back into the darkness. And then there are no voices, no figures in the shadows. Just Abigail sat in the dark once again, alone with the beginnings of a fucking migraine. Fucking weirdos, she says as she stands to leave.

Sat in her car. Abigail stares at the aging eyes in the mirror. Determination was one thing. She had always had plenty of, but there was always a price to pay for it, and she was looking straight at it. The flecks of grey in her hair seemed to be spreading. The wrinkles that she once passed off as laughter lines

were now etched caverns on her delicate porcelain skin, the stress of obviously pursuing her sister's killer for years was written across her face, not to say her body. The athletic frame she had once been so proud of. Now sagged in all the wrong places. The long hours meant that the gym had become a forgotten luxury. Her growing cynicism at the world at large had created a trail of felt relationships. This wasn't a goal, it was a curse.

God, what was she doing? 42 years old and about to walk into the den of one of the most notorious suspected murderers in the city a man she knew had been responsible for countless brutal murders a man that held a vice-like grip of fear over the city a man known for his treatment of women his torturous passions a man who murdered her sister the owner of purgatory nightclub a den of inequity if ever there was one

specialising in BDSM parties and God knows how many other sinful activities a man that the cops could not get a single lead on a man that no one seemed to know anything about he had no history no friends nothing it was as if he had just appeared one day set up a club for perverts and be constantly disgustingly wealthy.

Lifting the manila file from the passenger seat, Abigas stared into the emerald green eyes of Devereaux, or as he called himself now, Luca Malam, and they stared right back at her. The notes from them had said he was seeking an assistant after his last one had disappeared. Is she really going to do this? Could she follow through the same fate as her sister?

since meeting whatever they were. Her dreams had become haunted. His black hair that always seemed to be unkempt, his trimmed beard, and those lips. Somehow, even when he smiled, there was always a tint of cruelty to it. Yet she found them so damn sexual.

Her eyes drift closed. As the dreams returned to haunt her once again, the burning sensation of his beard along her thighs, his teeth biting at that sensitive flesh, images of her yielding, pain flooding through her body, turning to a beautiful ecstasy, under the heat of his cruel touch,

being tied up, bound and flogged, yielding to his desires, letting him decide her guilty pleasures, Her eyes open suddenly, aware of the first avalanche of pleasure moving through her body, her skirt around her waist, her hand rubbing furiously at her throbbing clit. Oh, God! Abigail moans loudly as her body arches in an intense orgasm. She had no idea she was bringing on, panting hoarsely.

These strange, dark fantasies of plaiters since she met with them. every night hounded by the desire to submit to be punished to be tormented. Why she didn't know, she had no idea. These desires had never occupied her mind before. But right now they were all she could think of. But she was here to do a job, find a way to kill this son of a bitch. And finally maybe she might get some rest. Abigail tries to ignore the trickle of damnness caressing her thighs as she adjusts her wet panties and straightens her skirt.

Stepping out of the car, her legs shake a little as she stands. The feeling of standing in heels unfamiliar to her now. Forcing a harsh sigh from her lips, she reminds herself, I'm here for one thing, nothing else. Stealing herself to the legendary charisma. that was merely feet away, grabbing her resume from the car, perfectly written for the vacancy of personal assistant.

Abigail takes a deep breath and walks towards the Gothic doors that mark the entrance to purgatory nightclub, staring for a moment at the hideous gargals that seem to see straight into her soul. As she lifts her hand to pull the bell cord, she expects a resounding bell chime maybe a large gong. What she did not expect was the small embarrassed tinkle

somewhere in the distance. Minutes passed, not a sound from behind the hideous wooden doors. Suddenly panicking she might have the time wrong. Abigail retrieves herself from from the depths of her purse. 9.55am. Checking her schedule. Yep, the appointment was for 10 a.m. So the role of assistant probably didn't mean a lot to him.

but she thought he might have had the manners to turn up to the interview watching the time ticked by on her phone. 10 a.m. Okay, she was going to sit in her car and give him 15 minutes and then she was definitely going back home and blowing off this waste of time. Screwed Luca Malam. Screwed whatever they were.

This was obviously another bum lead. But she would find him and she would kill him. obviously not today but she would fumbling for keys in her purse her mood did not approve as they fall toward the ground suddenly they were suspended in midair floating on a strong hand

long fingers clasped around them tightly you shouldn't be more careful miss Harper a voice says next to her ear it must be next to her ear She knows it must. She can feel the heat of his breath, caressing her skin in such a filthy way. But the sound. The sound wasn't coming through her ears.

That sound was grasping her breasts, pinching her nipples and sliding with vicious determination down her stomach. And clutching her pussy so hard it forced an audible gasp from her lips. Get a grip, Abigail. It's just a voice. A voice that belongs to a normal man. With green eyes, dark hair and those lips. Another gasp betrays her thoughts.

Abigail pushes her finger-inels viciously into her palm as she clenches her fist, forcing herself to regain control as she turns on the hill. Defiantly staring into those eyes. Ignoring the wildfire burning between her thighs and says, Mr. Malam, I'm glad to you. you could make it, even if you are a little late, smiling as warmly as she dare. His lips twist, eventually transforming into a beautifully cruel smile. And this is why I need an assistant.

If I can make sure my sorry ass was everywhere it was meant to be, when it was meant to be there, Miss Harper, then we would not be speaking right now. placing the keys in her hand before guiding her back towards the doors to hell, his hand pressing on the small of her back in a possessive way. The pad of his thumb pressing in just such a way to keep all her hotspots well and truly inflamed, pushing the door open, which surprisingly for such a large door, it made no sound at all.

Luca guided her along the corridor, releasing the pressure on her back when they arrived at a small door in the paneled wall. Careful as you walk through. It's dark and there are stairs straight down. He whispers so close to her ear. She could feel every nerve trembling in anticipation that he might actually kiss her neck. Desire blisters up her back at the caress of his breath. The heat of his body burning through her shirt, sending ways.

of erotic anticipation, rushing up and down her spine, cursing herself. She needs to shut these unwanted desires from her mind. Where the fuck did they come from? She never even imagined anything kinkier than giving a blowjob before she had met whatever they were. Now her mind was constantly flooded with such dark desires, things she could never even have contemplated before. Her body ate for these painful delights in such a world,

that she just didn't know what to do. As they reached the bottom of the stone steps, he guides it to a seat on one side of a large wooden desk, while he sits on the other side. Studying her for a moment, he eventually asked, You know what sort of club we are? The entertainment we provide? Yes!

Her voice stumbling over the sudden images flashing in her mind. Good. It saves a lot of explaining. He says before standing and walking around the desk, follow me, standing and following him through a pair of heavy velvet curtains at the rear of the room. Abigail is stunned by the various bondage and torture devices that lay beyond. My customers come here for a show, he says smirking little, and I like to give them one.

His fingers linger longingly on a metal bar of one device. This is an air mannacle, for example. It is so simple and yet so entertaining. So tell me, Miss Harper, have you ever been manacled? His green eyes fixing on hers. As if he was staring into her soul, the image erupts in her mind of being manacled, of being flogged, of being fucked so hard she can barely stand.

No, no, I haven't. Abigail whispers, her mouth dry from the desire pulsing between her thighs. His gaze holding hers, he whispers, But you want to. I can smell how much that idea turned you on. That cruel smile erupts over his lips as he moves closer to the bar. Try it, Miss Harper. He says smiling, as if knowing his words aren't.

a request but a command that she cannot deny. Without knowing why, she suddenly finds her wrist pressed against a cold metal, as it swings another bar over and secures the manacles closed, slowly walking behind Amengel. He leans in so close she can feel his cold breath against her neck. Darkly, he whispers, I can read your thoughts you know. I know why you are here.

He pulls hard on a rope and the manacles rise high in the air, pulling Abigail off the ground. Fear burns through her body as she suddenly realizes how vulnerable she is, trapped by this murderer. How could she have been so fucking stupid? Yet even as that thought erupts in her mind, another one floods over it, the thought of being flogged while she hangs here, a being fucked, and there was nothing she could do about it. the torturous delights this man was an expert in. Her pussy defiantly begins to weep her pleasure. The warm caress of a desire tracing a line down her thigh, moving her hand inside her shirt.

His eyes glare a terrifying mixture of green and red as he rips the material and casts it to the floor. Her breasts exposed to the cold air of the cellar. Her nipples force into painful peaks. The desire burning through her body, making them make even harder. Plucking one finger on the front of her bra, he whispers. Such beautifully formed, petite breasts. Such a shame to hide them behind the lace. Another harsh point in her bra snaps painfully across her back. Slowly look her traces a fingernail around her breast.

The sharp pain of his nail punctuated by the wildfire moving through her pussy. Slowly, he traces a single fingernail down her stomach, under his stinging caress. Her core clutches, her pussy throbs, in anticipation of where that finger might go. As he finds a waistband to her skirt, fingering it while he holds her gaze. With one sudden movement He snaps her waistband And her skirt falls to the ground Grinning maliciously

He watches her face for a moment Watches her reaction As his hand traces the line of her panties Realising how embarrassingly wet she is As his fingers trace between her thighs And caressing the soft material of her lace before sliding back up to her waistband again. Sliding one finger inside, he rips her panties off with another sudden movement,

her pussy pulsing violently as the cold air bites at her clint. She is suddenly aware of how naked and exposed she is, and how turned on she is by the whole idea of what he is doing. Where did these thoughts come from? Where did these desires, these needs? He turns and grabs leather strap from the side, strapping it tightly around her ankle. He pulls it so it snaps shut,

fixing her leg out at an awkward angle. And then the other leg to another strap. Her pussy exposed to the hair, to this man, before he returns to the rope of the manacles and lowers her a little. then tightens a rope of the feet suspending her, so she is now almost horizontal in the air. So prone, so vulnerable. Desire courses through Abigail's body,

as she realizes he can do anything he wants to her right now, and she can't stop him, all goes silent for a moment. Before Abigail is shocked to feel the biting sensation of a flogger against her thigh, his core straps biting at her sensitive skin. Her pussy responding in a beautiful symphony at the wave of wildfire moving up and down her body. Again another thrash of the flogger, this time on the other thigh.

Her body feeling like electricity is burning through it. Every cell, every fibre, tensing in pleasure as he moves around behind her head. pulling her hair down he whispers I know exactly why you're here

she moans loudly from pleasure in pain as he pulls her hair and suddenly she feels the tip of his hard cock teasing between her lips pushing deep into her mouth the very tip of it pushing at the back of her throat forcing her gag reflex her body tensing with the pleasure

coursing through her. Why the fuck was she enjoying this so much? Why did she feel on the very edge of coming just by having him fuck her mouth so hard as he pushes deeper and deeper into her mouth, stretching her lips around his girth? She can feel him swelling, throbbing even larger in her mouth, pulsing as the first drops of pre-cum, drop into her throat. And then suddenly he withdrawals, stepping away he walks around her moving between her thighs teasing his cock along

the lips of her pussy forcing a loud moan of desire from Abigail's lips suspended in her she can offer no resistance no assistance as he hammers a heart thrust into a pussy his fingers

reaching around her nipples he grasped her breast heart as he pulls her back into each and every thrust, fucking her deeper and deeper. Her body like some mechanism, just fucking his hard cock. And she feels her body trembling already. Her thighs tensing.

She can feel her orgasm and why? Why is she going to come so hard when he is doing nothing but torture her? The sensations moving through a body. Burning like a wildfire. As she feels his cock swelling inside of her, her lips stretched. around his girth as he growls deeply within his chest. His body tightens and hers tightens in response,

her pussy clutching at his cock, needing to come, needing that satisfaction she has needed since she first saw him when with the explosion of his cock inside of her, she feels her body tremble in beautiful orgasm. Her head rolls back, feeling his warm, cum, pulsing inside of her pussy. her own body trembling in the cool of the air

with the waves of pleasure moving up and down the skin he withdraws and seems to be pulling something heavy across the floor before he returns to her head I know exactly who you are Miss Harper and why you are here he whispers before releasing both ropes Abigail falling

winding herself as she lands hard on metal bars. He slams a cage lid shut over Abigail's bruised and sated body, clicking the lock shut. Luca turns and strides towards the velvet curtains. Glancing back, he snows, I just haven't decided what to do with you yet. So for part two, you'll have to wait till next Monday. It gives you a nice little teaser of what's to come. How will she? escape her metal cage? How will she get away from and kill the man? It has killed her sister already. Well, you'll have to wait till next week to find out. Now on Wednesday you have the next chapter of lamb to the slaughter. So I look forward to seeing you again. You can get wild in bed over again.

but for now and always with your pleasure in mind this is Devlinham Wild wishing you salacious dreams now as you have enjoyed this show this evening you can go ahead and subscribe to my podcast so you don't miss another salacious episode and you know you can go ahead and visit me at wilddesires dot com and grab your own free experiential erotic story

just for coming.