Sleeping with the Wight

Before you know it, you’ve started openly flirting with the woman! You’ve heard stories about the inhuman charm of monster girls, that they can capture your heart with nothing more than a glance; you lived in a city without many monsters, so you’d never felt it yourself. But now with wine in your veins and the unconditional attention of an attractive socialite you find yourself being pulled down into her world.

Or pulled up, realistically. Her laughter tickles your ears and fills your chest with warmth. She scoots closer again, planting one of her hands on your leg and getting into your personal space. You stare into her ruby eyes and think about what the future could hold. She’s captured you, completely and utterly.

“John? Is there aught wrong with my face?”

“No, I was admiring how beautiful you are.” You can’t help yourself. You reach out and cup her cheek with a hand of your own. She’s cool, her body being robbed of it’s warmth so many years ago. But her smile is anything but cold.

“Perhaps my servant was correct…”

“Maybe she was.”

You close in and lock your lips with hers, the contrast between her cold blood and yours only heightens the sense of pleasure as her soft lips touch yours. Isabelle lets her passion overwhelm her as she climbs onto your lap and wraps her arms around your neck. They run through your hair and your tongues dance with each other. Your own hands roam over her body, seeking the exposed skin that her dress so effectively teased you with moments before. She lets out an ethereal moan as you pull away and begin to play with her chest.

“You’re so beautiful and charming. I want to kiss you all over. You’re so beautiful,” you don’t even know where you’re going with your words, but Isabelle eats them up as she holds you closer and closer, “There was no way I was escaping from you.”

Isabelle lets her body do the talking. She pulls you into another heavy kiss. Then her hands push you away, “Come with me darling.” You do not protest, and she pulls you from the couch and to the stairs. You try to reach out and touch her. You yearn for the feeling of her cool body against yours. But she maintains her distance with a giggle.

Up the floating steps and to her bedroom. Heavy crimson curtains provide only a small amount of privacy in her elevated nest; making love here gives you a view of the gothic city beyond. A heavy four post bed fit for a queen meets you. “Sir Doe, do you desire my body?” She pushes you down onto the bed but keeps hold of your collar.

“Yes, of course Isabelle!”

Her eyes glow, huge ghostly claws appear over her normal hands, part of her and not at the same time. A wight’s magic is incredibly powerful, rivalled only by their wealth and influence. “I will show you all that I am, and you will welcome your new lady into your heart.” You nod, excited to see what Isabelle does. It’s irrational, wild. You only met her a few minutes ago yet here you are pouring out your heart to her.

“Don’t be scared darling. This is your destiny, to be joined with me – why else would we be brought together?” Her dress simply drops away. You gasp as the full form of your new mistress is revealed. Her body flows like water. Perfect curves that run one into another. Her breasts are topped with thick kissable nipples. She is hairless, a tight pussy peeking out between thick thighs. Her blue skin only serves to make her exotic figure more striking. Despite her exposure, Isabelle does not shiver or waver. Her heart lies still, even now. In her mind though she only feels a burning desire.

You move to remove your own clothes and join mistress in nudity, but she stops you, “Allow me darling.” With a snap of her claw your clothes disappear, teleported to the floor behind her. She smirks as she beholds your erect member. “I find your body most pleasing husband.”

“Husband?”

Isabelle doesn’t reply. She swings her hips as she walks over to the foot of the bed, and then falls onto her knees. At first you suspect that she’s going to take you into her mouth, but instead she does something that catches you by surprise. “Allow me to show you a new world of pleasure,” she flexes her ghostly claws and slowly inserts it into your thigh.

You nearly leap off the bed as a jolt of pleasure runs through your body. The feeling is impossible to describe. It doesn’t hurt, she could never hurt you, but her magic has more applications than moving things or changing clothes. She is a noble yes, but she’s also a monster. Part of a race designed entirely to seduce men and consume their energy.

It passes through you like… well, a ghost. She penetrates your body with the tip of the wicked looking claw and uses her magic to enflame every nerve in your body. A thousand invisible tongues run across your sweat covered skin. “I can hold you on a knife’s edge husband, you can hide no pleasure from me,” she titters as she slowly runs it up and down your leg. Her tone is not malicious, but more it is more dominant than the swooning maiden you were partying with downstairs.

She comes to a halt and meets your gaze, “Cum.”

You gasp as your entire body tenses. It’s the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. Isabelle’s face is splattered with a thick stream of your cum. You’re seeing double as she scoops up the mess onto her physical fingers and sucks it down with a dreamy smile on her face, “Delicious! I waited so long for this…”

“That was intense,” you gasp, the aftershocks still running through your body. Your cock flags, unable to recover as quickly as Isabelle might like.

She looks down at it and pouts, “Husband, we must do something about your stamina.” Never mind the fact that she forced you to orgasm with magic. Her claws glow brighter, and you feel yourself filled with energy, “Don’t worry husband, I can help you.” She wastes no time in climbing on top of you and positioning her tight slit over your erect cock.

“…Are you sure?” she asks, her red eyes peering through the dark, “With this blow you and I will be bound forever.”

You don’t even think before responding, “Yes Isabelle, I want you to be mine.” Isabelle raises her hips and positions herself over you.

“Hmm. Thank you darling! Now, let’s melt together…”

Isabelle slams down onto your pelvis with little regard for her own comfort. You gasp as she her tight, cool folds clamp around your shaft and begin to milk it for all it’s worth. She looks up to the ceiling as her claws dissipate, in the throws of passion she can’t concentrate on her magic anymore. You reach up and run your hands across her stomach, up to her chest and begin to toy with her perfect breasts.

This undead beauty is yours. You begin to pump your hips as she moans in pleasure at the feeling of her new husband’s cock. Even the interior walls of her pussy are cool, but that only makes the sensation greater. She loses the strength in her upper body and collapses down onto your chest, her platinum blonde hair spilling out over you. The still fragrance of flowers fills your senses as your mating intensifies.

“Yes, yes! Husband, you feel so amazing!”

There is no one person in charge. You mate with Isabelle like an animal in rut. You want to feel everything, smell everything, see everything. You want everything that Isabelle is to be yours and yours only. You want men to gaze upon you with jealousy as she hangs of your arm and lavishes you with unrestrained affection.

“Isabelle, Isabelle,” you pant, “You feel good too, you feel fantastic.”

Her good manners and grace are gone, replaced with the lustful instinct of a monster. This is the true face of the monsters. A lustful haze, an unending love for their husbands. You have gripped her heart and mind with kind words, and you never want to let it go. You kiss her as you feel another peak approaching, “I’m going to-“

“Inside!” she gasps as your bodies meet again and again. Her legs wrap around your back as you deliver one last thrust and expel another prolific load into her non-living womb. Perhaps it’s in vein – her humanity had been taken long ago. Magic is a strange thing though, perhaps there is a way for the immortal to give birth.

She gets up, Isabelle stares down at you. Despite the roughness of your coupling the only damage to her appearance is her mussed up hair. Her face is still pristine, and she seems completely unflustered as your softening erection inhabits her body. The sex was fast and hard and you won’t remember a damn thing about it in a week’s time; but you don’t regret it one bit.

“So, did I pass the test?” you gasp, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. Isabelle leans down and pecks you on the lips again before coming to rest on your chest.

“I like the sound of your heart. It is a sound that I cannot hear for myself anymore.”

You stare up at the bed’s ceiling, “You can listen to it whenever you want Isabelle.” You run a hand through her hair and try to clean it up but it’s a lost cause. Maybe in the morning you’ll regret this, throwing yourself into the arms of an undead noble because she charmed the pants off you, but you hope you don’t. You hope that this kind of feeling can last for longer, much longer.

“What would you have done if I said no?”

“Hm. I suppose I could have raped you.”

“What?”

Isabelle hops up onto her elbows and kicks her legs in the air, “My servant says it is ‘trendy’ to rape your husband these days. Although I know not what it entails.” You sigh, you’re going to have a word with this servant when you meet her. Monsters sure are strange.

“So, is that it?”

“…Yes husband?”

“I mean, is that it, are we done and married? Because you know, humans usually have a big ceremony with all your family and friends… and the bride wears a nice dress.”

“I know what a wedding is dear. I suppose my monster side got the better of me. All of my other noble companions are wed already. If you desire a ceremony though, I can happily deliver for you.”

“It’s up to you Isabelle. I think we should just… relax for a while. This is a lot to take in.” Isabelle watches over you, unblinking, as you drift away into slumber. You can pick up the pieces tomorrow.