Wrapped in Darkness

She jogs through the night unaware of what awaits her. She runs, lost in her own world, letting the stress of the previous day fade from her mind as the last of the suns rays fade from the sky. The rhythmic strides on the pavement, the gasps of air, the strain of muscle and bone, all come together to form the heartbeat of her own private world. Nothing can find her here, no one can bother her here. Her world shrinks down to her body and the stretch of road she runs on.

It is this feeling that keeps her coming back here every evening. Back to jog around the park while the sun sets, well after everyone else has gone back to their lives. For a few minutes out of each day, she doesn't have to worry about anything. For these few minutes, she isn't thinking about her kids, or her convict brother, or her overbearing mother, or her neglectful husband, or work, or even the dog. her whole world consists of the road.

The road doesn't want money for shoes. The road doesn't complain when she works late. The road is never down at the bar when she needs it. The road doesn't make passes at her in the break room. The road doesn't need anything from her. And that is exactly how she likes it. She likes being alone, carefree if only for a moment. That one moment has become the only thing she looks forward to anymore. The only light left in the otherwise unbearable monotony of her life.

I hate to interrupt her perfect moment.

I can feel the shadows getting thicker around me as I watch her run. With each passing moment the light grows dimmer and I grow stronger. I can keep pace with her effortlessly now, the shadows of the forested lane have entwined her legs to her knees. I can feel the caress of darkness on her shapely legs as though the shadows were my hands, slowly climbing her body.

The sun sinks lower, my shadows climb inexorably up her running, perfect form. I begin to hunger as my darkness reaches her upper thighs. With the merest twinge of effort I force open the arteries in her legs, letting blood flow faster. My shadows have reached her hips now, and I can feel the warmth of her womanhood wrapped in my unrelenting embrace. I can feel the increased blood flow to her sex. I can feel her flesh becoming slightly engorged and I can feel the warm juices begin to flow.

She doesn't notice the growing warmth between her legs, so focused is she on the road that she doesn't feel her body responding to me. My darkness reaches her tight stomach, and I can feel my power making her abdomen clench in primal need. Clothing is no barrier to me, I can feel every pore, every line, every fold of delicate flesh. I use some of my power to slowly caress her swollen lips, causing even more of her warm lubricant to flow.

The shadows reach her breasts, small and perfect against my darkness, she is small of frame, and her bust is perfectly sized to match the rest of her athletic form. As my shadows climb past the mound of her bosom, I can feel my power cupping her breasts, I can feel my touch making her nipples hard and as swollen as her waiting pussy. I can feel her heartbeat, in time with her steps as she races down the last road she will ever see.

Her hands and arms are mine now. I can feel every sinew, every muscle, every bone as she moves her arms like pistons. She is strong, with little fat and much hard muscle. I take a moment to revel in the feel of her 5 foot, 4 inch body under my touch while she remains blissfully unaware. My shadows fall on her shoulders and I can finally wrap myself completely around her, I can finally embrace her with my full power.

She stumbles to a halt, confusion on her face, quickly replaced by need, followed even faster by bewilderment. I hold her there for a moment while she tries to move again. She cannot. My control is too deep now. I refrain from enveloping her face and head, though I am drawn to her fiery red hair, I want her to know what is happening to her.

She struggles. The all do, once they realize that they no longer control their own bodies, but it's far too late. By the time they notice anything is amiss, I already have too much control for them to ever break free. The shadows become tinged in her fear as she discovers the extent of her helplessness, her head cranes back and forth, the only muscles she still has control of are above her shoulders.

She looks down at her legs, then her arms, then she fixates on one hand as she concentrates as hard as she can. I delight in the momentary spark of satisfaction when I clench that hand for her into a fist. I bring her hand up, level with her breasts, lifting just the index finger to point towards the sky. She watches in horror for a moment then tries to draw breath to scream.

I choke off the scream before it can ever reach her throat, then I wag her finger disapprovingly in front of her. her eyes widen in fear, but she swallows and nods. She is well and truly terrified now, but I can do something about that. I send a slight pulse of power through her, jolting her and bringing the need I have so carefully inspired to the forefront of her feelings. Her knees quiver and her hips begin rocking slightly in anticipation. She even licks her lips before remembering to be afraid.

Only then, as she stands alone, wrapped in darkness, quivering with need, do I step out of my shadows. Her eyes grow large with surprise as she gazes on my ghostly pallor and alabaster smooth skin. I am wearing only a long coat and loose fitting jeans, my chiseled chest open to the night, she stares hungrily at me for a moment before remembering what situation she is in.

I stand before her, calm, collected, my white skin glowing in the moonlight. I let her hand drop to her side, then I bow to her in a gentlemanly fashion. The niceties must be observed after all. I force her to match my bow, her head arching back to keep eye contact with me. I smile as she tries to speak, moving one of her fingers to her lips in a childlike shushing motion.

I gaze into her eyes and move her hands to the drawstring of her running sweats. She deftly unties the knot under my power, then reaches up to slip her fingers under the elastic of her black sports bra. I make her shimmy her hips to drop the pants as I slowly use her arms to pull the bra up off of her breasts. Her bosom falls free as she tosses the bra into the woods. Her perfect nipples bouncing enticingly as she steps out of her pants.

The fear in her eyes is warring with the ever growing need she is feeling from my gentle caress of her soft lips and her hard nipples. She slips her thumbs into the waistband of her tight, pink panties and begins to slowly roll them down off of her hips. No one can be graceful while they step out of tight undergarments, but, under my control, she manages to be just that. I've had a few centuries of practice you know.

She now stands before me, nude but for her shoes, bare to the darkness and my waiting embrace. I step forward, watching her body as I bring her hands to my chest, tracing the lines of my skin with her small fingers. I meet her eyes and she silently pleads with me to stop. I just smile as she quickly unhooks the buttons on my jeans and begins to slide them down my legs.

She pulls my jeans to my knees, freeing all ten inches of my erection from its denim prison. She stares in a mixture of panic and awe as I force her to kneel in front of me. She turns her head to the side, one last act of defiance, as I bring her face closer to my swollen member. I could finish taking control of her, and force her to do what I want, but I don't. I want her to know exactly what is being done to her.

I lay down on my back, my coat forming a small blanket for me to lie on, and I watch the dread in her eyes as I bring her crawling towards me on all fours. I crawl her up my body, letting her breasts linger as they brush my cock, swaying ponderously above me. I make her position herself on top of me, guiding me to her opening with her right hand while she balances on my rock hard chest with her left. She closes her eyes as she begins to feel the tip of me sliding between her waiting lips.

I bring her down slowly, tears streaming from her eyes as her body betrays her in the most complete way. I enter her slowly, marveling in the feel of her velvet folds as they slide over my shaft. I reach the end of her before she reaches the end of me, and I make her force herself down that last inch, stretching her cervix until she arches her back in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

I lay still for a moment, loving the feel of being buried to the hilt in her. Then, when I am sure, I release control of her body. She begins to move on her own, each small shift causing us to move together, bringing a sharp moan from her throat. She is too far gone to stop now, her body is so filled with need that she cannot help but grind her hips into me for a moment before pulling herself slowly off of me. she reaches the tip of me and hesitates. The need she feels warring with her mind as she hovers, with just the head of me still inside her.

I reach my own hands up to gently squeeze her sensitive breasts, and she throws her head back with a howl of animal need, impaling herself on my shaft again. screams tear from her throat as she slams down on me again and again with wild abandon, the heat of her womanhood growing with every thrust. I am matching thrusts with hers now, each time we come together she grinds on me before pulling back to pound me into her again.

I can feel the pressure in her stomach building as she rides my hard cock, her perfect breasts bouncing up and down in the moonlight as she bounces on me. I can feel her growing pleasure as I fill her to the very core. Before long my thrusts grow sloppy and she loses all control of herself, we are fucking with wild abandon and she is loving every minute of it. The pressure builds in her faster and faster until she cannot contain it anymore.

She spills over into orgasm as she grinds down on me one last time, howling her pleasure to the night. I let go and my seed fills her warmth as well, pushing the height of her passion even higher. I take a deep breath, tasting the passion with the hint of fear on the night air as she basks in the afterglow, still impaled on my shaft. I grin to myself and then strike.

So satisfied is she that she barely flinches as my fangs sink into her unsuspecting neck, loosing that most precious of liquids to flow into my waiting mouth. Blood is never so sweet as when it is full of pleasure endorphins, and nothing fills the blood with pleasure like truly magnificent sex. Her life flows from her throat into my mouth where I swallow it eagerly down, feeling her pleasure fill my stomach even as her consciousness fades away.

When it is done I lay her down on the pavement, taking one last admiring gaze at her perfect body, now forever still. I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of her lifeblood filling my body, bringing me new energy and power. I smile to myself. This had been one of the better ones. She was so well and truly sated by the lovemaking that she died without as much as a whimper, the pleasure in her blood far outweighing the fear.

Most of my brethren don't understand why I let the victim keep awareness as I feed. They don't understand the difference in taste and texture of blood from a screaming murder victim and a sated lover. I do. I often think of the poor souls who go to feed my hunger. and I know I am doing them a service. Had they met another of my kind their last moments would be filled with sorrow and fear, with me they are filled with passion and love.

What farmer has ever been so merciful with his cattle?