#vampire bg3

You awaken from your unconsciousness, your eyes slowly beginning to blink open as your hand flies to the throbbing pain at the side of your head. Your vision blurry as you adjust to the light, or more accurately the lack of it. You turn you head to the side spotting the abstract outline of a woman standing with her back turned towards you.

You try to sit up but that only makes the throbbing in your head worse. A hiss escapes you, alerting the woman to you stirring. She rushes to kneel down to the floor, beside you.

“Easy, don’t try to get up. I think you might have a concussion”

As the blurriness of your vision subsides, a look of recognition crosses your eyes as you realize you’ve seen the concerned strangers pale face before/

“Dalyria?” You ask, “That’s your name, right?... We met before at the flophouse— you’re Astarion’s sister… Astarion!” Your body jolts forward as the reality of your situation begins to dawn on you.

Your head whips around, taking in your surroundings— steel bars enclose you and Dalyria together, you were trapped in a cage. As you continue looking around you spot three identical cages holding more of what you assume to be Astarion’s vampire kin, bodies resting on floor of their confinement as yours was just moments ago.

“What happened? Last thing I remember we were at camp— we were sleeping when we were attacked, then it’s all blurred… I don’t remember what happened after we were attacked.” You utter as you try to recall what events led to you being trapped un a cage with a vampire spawn.

“Yes, that was us at your camp— the master sent us to try and convince Astarion to come home, but when he saw things weren’t going his way he compelled us to attack you.”

“But why take me?” You ask. It was Astarion Cazador who was after, not you. Why go through all the trouble of dragging you here.

“I don’t know but, knowing Cazador it was probably to torment Astarion— to make him think you’re getting drained so that he waltzes in here straight into his trap.” Dalyria explains palming at her brow.

“Hells we can’t let that happen, we’ll all be done for— There has to be some way out of here.” You urge her, gripping at the rusted bars of your cage.

“Don’t exsert yourself— it’s pointless.” Dalyria cautions, watching on as you rattle at the bars.

You trace your hands along the jagged metal of your cell look for a look you can pick or a faulty bar you can kick out of place, but your palm catches on a protruding piece of metal from the bars— you hiss in pain as pull your hand from the bar and look down at it, blood leaks from a shallow wound that now runs diagonally across your hand. Dalyria’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Cover your hand in your shirt— keep it away from me, I can smell the blood.” Dalyria backs away from you until her back hits the other side of the cage, she tries to avert her gaze from the fresh crimson sliding down your wrist.

“Shit sorry— Are you alright?” You ask as you look over her trembling form. Her eyes glow red, hunger clear in them. The way she looks at you now reminds you of how Astarion looked at you when he first joined your company, starvation mixed with guilt. But you knew how to remedy it.

“You can have some of my blood if you’d like— I let Astarion feed off me sometimes, too. I understand the need, Dalyria.” You offer, holding your blooding hand out to her as an invitation.

“Are you actually mad? I’ve eaten nothing but rats for a hundred years, If I taste you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop— I’d drain you, I promised myself I wouldn’t lose control again.” Dalyria looks at you, her face flushed and her restrain waning.

“You won’t, and you’ll be able to think more clearly after you’ve fed— maybe you’ll figure out a way for us to escape.” You reason.

“Fine— Just… remember you asked for this.” Dalyria breathes, giving in as she falls to her knees, crawling to your side.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrist before she licks over the gash. Your blood coats her tentative tongue, her pupils dilate at the taste— the beat of you pulse fills her ears as your rich, saccharine crimson overtakes her senses, making her loins burn.

“God’s, you taste exquisite.” She bares her fangs at you, her sharp teeth glint in the dim light that spills through the gaps of your cell. She sinks her eager teeth into the thin skin of the inside of your wrist.

You let out a low cry as the sharp pain of her teeth piercing your flesh shoots through your wrist before it settles into throbbing numbness. Your blood pools in her mouth as she greedily swallows all your punctured flesh has to give her. Her hips involuntarily grind against you, her clothed cunt rubbing against your knee. Your other hand falls to the curve of her waist, heat rising to your cheeks at her desperate writhing.

“That’s enough.” You utter as you trail your hand up her back until you reach the back of her head and intertwine your fingers in her hair, gently pulling her from your wrist.

She whimpers as she releases you from her jaws, her teeth stained with your sticky red juices. She brings her hand to the side of your face, stroking at the flesh before pressing her bloodied lips against yours. You taste yourself on her tongue as she pushes into your mouth, her edges of her pointed teeth brushing against your blood and spit coated lips. Her hand slips down to your shoulder, pushing you down against the ground and climbing over you. Dalyria pulls away from your lips, clutching the collar of your shirt and ripping the flimsy fabric.

She leans down dragging her tongue along the pulse point of your neck.

“Just one more taste, please— I won’t go any further, I swear it.” Dalyria mutters against your skin, her breath against you making your hairs stand on end.

“It’s alright, I trust you…”  You say breathlessly, your head clouded with desire. You knew it was stupid to offer yourself on a platter to her, but at that moment you would’ve agreed to anything that slipped past her pretty blood-stained lips. Her hand slips under your ripped shirt, fondling your breast as she positions herself to bite your neck. A gasp escapes you as her fangs push into you, the searing pain melting into pleasure as Dalyria trails the hand on your breast down your body and slipping it under the hem of your pants. She moans into the flesh of your neck as her fingers make contact with your wet slit. She pulls away from you, lifting her shirt over her head and exposing her bare chest to you— she grabs your hands and guides them to her breasts, inviting you to explore her flesh. Her fingers trail back down to the waist of your trousers, hooking underneath and pulling them down far enough for you to kick them off.

Your body jolts forward as the tips of Dalyria’s cold fingers make contact with your dripping core, teasing at your aching entrance. Her fingers plunge into you as she leans forward and continues to make work of your neck with her teeth. You start to feel light-headed, only adding to the mind-numbing pleasure of her fingers hitting against your walls. You trail your hand to her clothed heat tracing over it before digging the heel of your palm against her clit, causing Dalyria to let out a needy whine against the tender skin of your neck.

You slide your hand under the waist of her pants, and cup the sensitive flesh of her bare cunt. Her hips buck into you, grinding against your hand frantically as she eagerly suckles at blood gushing from her bite on your neck. You prod at her entrance, it drips with arousal at the heady taste of your blood and push inside of her throbbing heat. The tips of your fingers start to go numb as you thrust into her, your head is spinning— you’ve lost so much blood your vision is starting to go dark, but you can only focus on the pleasure Dalyria is giving your fading body.

“Dal- Dal, stop— you’ve had enou-” Is all you can get out before a cry rips through your hoarse throat as your Orgasm crashes through you, sending you reeling. Your vision grows fuzzy once again as you go limp under her body. Dalyria pulls away from your neck as she feels you grow heavy in her arms— her eyes are glazed over in sanguine hunger but concern shines through still.

“Shit! Oh gods, I told you I wouldn’t be able to control myself— hells hold on, don’t close your eyes,” Dalyria scrambles to pick up her discarded shirt and press it to where blood leaks from your neck.

“I’m alright— just a little dizzy is all…” You mutter, panting as you struggle to keep your heavy eyelids open. “You know, you’re much nicer than Astarion— he usually just leaves me to bleed into my bedroll after he’s had his fill,” you joke, chuckling weakly as you try to alleviate Dalrya’s visible panic.

“Well brother never was one for pleasantries.” Dalyria’s lips cock up into a slight smile as she presses harder against your neck to stop the bleeding.