Immortal Desires by Lauren Keen

Immortal Desires by Lauren Keen

Author:Lauren Keen [Keen, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-18T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 11

It felt a little tight around the chest. I kept having to readjust the material to the straps that kept it in place. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what this material was, but it didn’t seem to stretch much yet was surprisingly soft. A lovely purple on black, stretching down to a bit short of a frilly skirt.

“This is so gaudy,” I said to the missing figure in the mirror, soon to appear from behind my shoulder to shake her head.

“It’s cute,” Camilla said, “just wait,” before disappearing back behind me.

I could feel her pulling at the back of the skirt, unsure what she could possibly be doing with that. Turning my head to one side and to the next, I had done that a few times, desperate to convince myself it wasn’t obvious, but it was. Those spots where she marked me, every time I looked at them felt like a reminder of what I was, steeling my resolve of escaping.

“Alright,” she said, disappearing away without saying another word. Returning with a smirk, she knew I wouldn’t approve of what she was holding.

“I’m not wearing that,” I said.

“Yes you are.”

“What am I? A whore?”

“Oh, come on. It’s so cute on you.”

Looking at the sheer stockings, black tinged on purple with lace and frilly garter belts, I couldn’t believe she liked this kind of thing. I would never wear anything so… well I would never willingly wear this.

“Pick your feet,” she said.

“Camilla,” I tried. I really didn’t want to wear the outfit. “Can’t I just wear my clothes?”

“No.” She didn’t wait for me to argue anymore, lifting at one of my legs. Keeping myself balanced with a hand, she pushed the material up, hugging my skin ever so close. “You can’t wear your old clothes anymore,” she added. “I was too sloppy.” Looking back to me, she seemed almost sorry before going for the other stocking.

“What happened?”

She glanced at me, smirking. “Just-” she started, almost embarrassed, “I was too engrossed. Gorged myself a little too fast.” I tried to understand, narrowing my eyes on her until she explained further. “I spilled a little of you.”

“You spilled my blood?” I had to ask, dumbfounded by this supposed orgasmic blood being wasted. Like a thunderclap waking me to realization, I took a step back before she could answer that. “Wait. You were gorging yourself? What happened to you’re only trying to save me?”

“I lost myself a little. Like I said, you’re addictive.”

“So?!” I yelled back. “That’s my life you’re playing with!”

“Are we really going to have this conversation again?” she asked.

I hadn’t noticed at the time, but this was the moment she says she had almost given up on me. Had I known I was on the brink of joining the blood farm, I probably wouldn’t have followed it up with more insults.

“You’re just some junkie! A repulsive monstrosity hiding behind all these flowery compliments and flawed manipulative logic. And a fucking pervert too.”

It wasn’t until she threw the second stocking at my face that I stopped the barrage of insults to look at her.



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