It’s the blood. Warm. Thick. Dripping. I love to watch. I love to run my fingers through it, tracing out random designs. I love my job as the provider for my kin.
I told him how I loved him before I bled him. I didn’t lie to him—although I do admit I love him more while his blood oozes onto the sheets beneath us. Plus, my declaration did make him more compliant. Not that that was ever a worry.
He told me in the bar when we met that he likes to get rough in clear detail, to gauge my reaction. I laughed, leaning into him so I bit his lip. I bit harder than necessary. That is the only warning I ever give. It didn’t faze him—not that it ever does. His eyes grew animated, both shocked and excited and ready to play. Just the way I like them.
I dragged him through the club. Into the bathroom. So I could have him. After that, he pushed me out into the alley, where we went at it again. Rough and dirty. Now he was just tedious. Rough I can handle and enjoy—but dirty…well, it was just part of the job.
It took me no effort to convince him to spend the rest of the night with me. We hopped a cab to my rented room, hands all over the entire time. He wanted to jump right to the bed, but I wasn’t having it. The alley clung to me…and I needed those sheets clean for later. So into the shower went we. After that long hot shower, I led him to bed and gave him everything he thought he wanted and more. I made him beg…he had no idea how far I would go. He begged so prettily.
After I started the bloodletting, I sat back, pondering whether I had given him too much in order to gain so little. His scene, not my scene. He was a simple means to an end. There were far easier ways for me to do this. I watched his eyes dim and their light flicker and go out. Still the blood came.
I filled bottle after bottle, our own sort of milk bottles, you might say. Tonight the entire clan would feed. I packed my bag full…and left my debris behind. Just another night in paradise…and I had other fish to fry…