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To be a blood donor by choice was merely a polite name for what you had otherwise become. It was simply a dressed-up name to hide the nature of your true profession, which was essentially bloodletting for literal monsters. Or, rather, feeding. Though, since your blood type was rare and desired by such creatures, one would argue that it would be foolish not to do so, considering just how much some vampires would pay for even just a sip.
And as it just so happened, you were Dr. Shoko Ieiri’s—one of the more prestigious people in the country—favourite meal.
Her exclusive, delicious pet with the sweetest blood.
In a general sense, she was rather appealing: polite and gentle with her bedside manner and alluring with her courting process. Some vampires preferred to keep it clinical, but you supposed you kept on going back to her—exclusively at that—because her approach was more alluring than most. She met you halfway in that she responded best to good and loyal people; promising you that you were exclusive so as long as you didn’t see anyone else, or to keep it broader, not allow anyone else to feed from you.
You didn’t mind these terms, of course.
Tonight was another one of those sessions, and you had already reached her door, coming to knock upon the heavy wood. No matter how many times it had happened, you found yourself a mess of nerves each time—largely so in anticipation—just as she preferred it.
Blood tasted better when it was flustered.
Or so she claimed.
Upon opening the door, Shoko greeted you, clad in something sleek and formal: a black turtleneck that hugged the sides of her body deliciously with black slacks. She smiled as soon as her gaze fell upon you, revealing tired eyes.
“There you are,” she welcomed you with an approving hum, her cold fingers reaching out to brush over your face.
You shuddered slightly in anticipation before taking a step inside.
Her home always felt as cold as she did, but you never minded too much. It was sparsely lit, with a few stray lamps, but otherwise did not offer much light. Everything smelled dated, too. Perhaps of polished wood or old books or both. Vampires were often older than people, after all. She might have been around for far longer than you could otherwise place her age to be.
Shoko, indeed polite, took your coat as she led you further in, revealing the dress she once bought for you and had requested you would wear ever since. It was nothing too grand, just a red, silky little number that exposed your neckline in a way that she found delicious. The fact that it suited your figure was just a bonus in addition to that fact.
Throughout the date, her gaze kept on returning to settle on your throat the entire time, and by the time the conversation had thinned and the laughter had died down, the atmosphere in the room had surely gotten heavier. Shoko cleared her throat just once before leaning forward, her eyes suddenly glazed over with hunger as she could not help but extend a hand towards you, her thumb coming to rest over your cheekbone, rubbing lazy circles in a way that was intended to be assuring.
“You’ll stay with me tonight, won’t you?” she asked.
You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from hers. “Yeah. Of course,” you softly confirmed.
A kiss came right after that; slow and careful at first, almost sweet in its application before her mouth shifted against yours in a way that felt almost charged. Her hand slid to the back of your neck, her fingers curling around your skin, guiding you to lie exactly where she wanted you to do so. Her lips pressed closer, her head dipped down, until you felt that anticipated sensation, your body shuddering as the contact was made.
She held onto you firmly but not painfully as her teeth brushed over your goose-bumped flesh; the sharp prick of her fangs jolting you into almost jarring awareness. The sensation of your blood suddenly being pulled from your body was never something you could get fully used to, but it turned you on so thoroughly to feel so vulnerable in her care. Your eyes fluttered shut as it all happened, surrendering to the feeling of something vital leaving you, causing your whole body to feel gradually heavy.
“Easy now,” she caught you before you went too deep, soothing you with a soft murmur. She pulled back by just an inch, her lips stained with glistening crimson, staring at you with reverence.
“Shoko—” you blurted out in protest of her stopping.
Her head tilted slightly, her lips twitching into a smile over how needy you both sounded and looked.
“You’re so precious right now,” she praised, before pressing a kiss over your injured spot. “Keep being brave for me. You taste so good.”
As you took her orders to heart and as she continued to feed, the whole room started to blur and tilt. Your heartbeat slowed down, too, and instead of feeling panicked about it, you found yourself almost happy to let go. Throughout it, Shoko kept one hand interlocked with yours, squeezing it on occasion, just to keep you grounded.
“It’s alright, just stay with me,” she cooed, her breath rich with copper. “Shall I take care of you?”
A needy whine of a hum tore from you.
“Mm—“ was all that you could manage.
Shoko’s other hand began to wander as the other still gripped yours. It slid down the curve of your waist and settled over the firmer swell of your hip, making you writhe under touch. The cold contrast of her skin was achingly intense to the feverish heat of your body. Next, her fingers found their way beneath your skirting, the digits hooking around your panties, slipping inside to find your clit. Of course you were already slick with arousal and swollen, which she took as an invitation, coming to apply a soft pressure over the nerves, rubbing smooth, probing circles.
“Look at you,” she murmured. “You’re already so wet.”
“I—hmm, y-yeah,” you tried to speak.
“Yeah?” she caught you. “Is this because of me?”
Your words fell flat and your small whimper of embarrassment confirmed her suspicion right on the spot.
Shoko continued to tease you just a little bit more, unable to resist. Her voice was low and smooth now, amusement evident in her tone, “Do you love it that much when I feed from you?” she asked. “Does it truly feel that good to be emptied so thoroughly?”
Almost playfully to punish her for being so bold and arrogant, you tried to pull your thighs together, but she was already there, making a mess of your sensitive skin.
“Oh, no,” she purred, her eyes dark with hunger. “Don’t hide from me. There’s no reason to do so, now is there?” she added, applying more pressure over the bud. “I tell you this each time, don’t I?”
“That my b-blood tastes—” you started, unable to finish your sentence however as the pleasure mounted.
“No need to speak,” Shoko stopped you. “Focus on being flustered. Your blood tastes so much sweeter when you’re a mess,” she said, finishing your words for you.
Afterwards, she picked up the pace, provoking you to crush your legs tight around her arm as your body trembled from both humiliation and blood loss. Your pulse quickened as you felt heat overcome your senses, just as she had anticipated. Blood rushed to your skin, forcing the flow to your neck to arrive heavily and frantically, inviting her to reunite her lips over your skin. A soft moan of pain left you immediately after as she drank from you in a way that felt almost greedily so.
And as if to find purchase, your one hand slipped from hers—both coming to swing around her shoulders—clutching for dear life as your whole world began to spin. You were gasping at this point—grasping, too—all in an attempt to keep yourself from slipping into the dark—the point of no return.
A low laugh vibrated from her lips. “So needy now, aren’t you?” she teased, encouraging you to hold on tighter. “Oh yes. Please. Hold onto me. Cling to me.”
Your grip squeezed as you struggled to remain conscious at all, even as her fingers continued to swirl around your clit. Goodness. You felt so overwhelmed and the pleasure that was consuming you felt far too great. It was like an ache of agonising bliss and exhaustion all at once.
Though, maybe something was wrong—your vision started to fade.
At the realisation of the danger you were in, Shoko stopped herself abruptly. The pressure broke on your lower half and her fangs dislodged from your flesh. A horrible sting of pain surfaced to which she tried to soothe with soft, frantic kisses.
“Ah, forgive me,” she confessed, her voice laced with genuine regret. She brushed the dampness pooling away from your forehead, her touch still so tender despite the circumstances. “I got carried away. I took too much.”
“Shoko, please—” you whined, desperate for her to finish what she started.
“I have to stop for you if I wish to keep you,” she declined gently, knowing fully well what would happen if she listened to her hunger again at such a critical moment.
Indeed, you were almost gone, but you were just as equally starved. For the release, if nothing else. You understood why she had to cease feeding, why she had to stop touching you, but god—the ache—all of the build-up that was so, so close, and yet, without the reward.
“Another time,” she promised. “I’ll feed slower. I’ll make you cum without killing you.”
You shook your head softly even as your eyelids began to droop shut. “J-Just a little more…?”
All that she offered however was just more of an apology. “So sorry my love,” she declined once again. “I want you to be alive to feel it happen. Awake enough to enjoy it.”
“Sho—” you started, but just as quickly, your body went limp in her arms.
Perhaps she was right.
Pulling back from you completely, Shoko backed away until she could stand before hoisting you into her arms. Her movements were steady despite the heavy sated lilt in her step, bringing you over to settle into her bath. Her hands were everywhere now, focused on your body that wasn’t quite without hunger, but more so with care. As steaming water slowly filled the tub, she used a sponge in the meantime to dab away at the drying blood on your skin.
“Next time,” she promised again, even if you were too far gone to have heard her by now. “For now, you’ll rest, okay?” she continued to murmur, taking her sweet time in taking care of you; ensuring that you were clean, healthy, and most importantly, alive.
You deserved it, didn’t you?
You were her favourite meal, after all.