I had to be the biggest idiot in the world.

Most eighteen-year-old girls are, well, not so worldly shall we say, but I had to be more gullible than fifty percent of them. What's the first thing we learn when we're in school and we go on a field trip? Stay with your buddy.

Why didn't I stay with my buddy?

If I had, this story wouldn't have needed to be written and I would still be that gullible eighteen-year-old, graduating from high school, getting ready to go to college, fucking my boyfriend every Saturday night and arguing with my parents about everything and anything.

No, I had to follow that cute guy. I had to take the dare. I had to be stupid and leave my buddy.

My new fangs flashed in the tawdry mirror that I was staring into. What was it about vampires not being able to see their reflections? It was bullshit. I could see myself just fine. Same dark hair parted in the center to fall around my shoulders, same gray/green eyes that my boyfriend used to tell me he could fall into, same face with the slightly up-turned nose that had always been the bane of my existence. But now, when I parted my full lips, shiny white fangs could be seen where my canine teeth had once been.

"Are you done in there yet?" The voice was booming, loud and obnoxious and I felt the first tingle of the thirst. It had me gripping the sink harder, forcing myself to stand still instead of turning and ripping open the door then the throat of the asshole whose room was down from mine in this crappy boarding house I was staying at.

I wanted to go home, but if I did, well, I was afraid I'd wake one night and find that I'd made dinner of my parents or of my dog while I was asleep. To protect them, I disappeared the night after I was "made". I packed up everything I could carry, you never know just what you might need, and then emptied out my bank account with my ATM card.

I knew my parents would be searching for me. I knew they'd be worried. So I sent out letters to different post offices, knowing that they would mail them from there as long as the envelopes were stamped. I'd gone as far as Las Vegas, thinking it would be a good place for my parents to believe I ran off to, and that was the last one I sent.

My parents wouldn't think that I would still be here in town.

No, I now resided on the other side of the tracks. What a fucking cliche I was turning into. Good girl gone bad, but that kind of bad I'm sure didn't include fangs and a thirst for blood.

"Listen, you bitch, I'm giving you to the count of three. I've got to go to work unlike some people and I need to get fucking in THERE!"

I rolled my eyes and turned, slipping on my robe but leaving it untied. My body was slender but strong. The small triangle of hair I left on my pussy was as dark as the hair on my head, making my body seem even more pale. I made sure it was on display now, using my fingertips to fluff the tiny triangle before I opened the door just as the asshole got to three.

His eyes bulged out and his face, florid from anger, turned even redder. He stared at me so hard I could almost feel his gaze roaming over me like fire ants.

"See something you like?" I asked, spinning just fast enough that the silk of the robe pulled away from my breasts, leaving them bare to his gaze, my nipples hardening and turning deep red against my pale skin.

"Yeah," he said roughly, reaching a hand out to touch me. I allowed it, letting him pinch my nipples with his coarse fingers.

He was old, at least in his late fifties, his breath foul from cigarette smoke and the beer he liked to drink. He stood not much taller than my own five-feet-seven inches. His body in the too-big pants and the stained wife-beater he was wearing was solid, his beer drinking only just beginning to be seen around his middle.

He backed me into the bathroom and I allowed it. I knew what was going to happen even if he didn't. I also knew that what he thought was going to occur would happen when hell froze over.

"Nice, baby. I'd never have gotten so pissed if you'd of opened the door a bit earlier."

He didn't wait for me to answer, his lips coming down and pushing into mine, the nasty taste of his tongue plowing against my mouth, demanding entrance. I opened my lips, barely hiding the flinch of disgust that shuddered through me.

He pulled on my nipples, tugging on them too hard so that when he released one, it bounced. He seemed to think that turned me on, so each time he would pull harder. I was amazed when I felt the first throb of desire flood between my thighs.

It wasn't the first time I'd seduced a man to feed off him, but this was the first time that what one did to me was actually turning me on. Was there something wrong with me, something dark and perverse that was going to make itself known by making me fuck this loser of a man? I groaned at the thought and heard his laugh.

His hands twisted in the satiny fabric of my robe, tearing it off my shoulders. "We gotta make this quick, bitch. I gotta get to work." He lifted me easily, my ankles locking just above his ass as he let his pants drop. I could feel the hard heat of his cock pushing against my slippery pussy.

Was this it? Was this the day that I was actually going to succumb to the perverse nature of the beast inside of me? Was I going to fuck this man, this dreg of society? I could feel my pussy weeping copious amounts of liquid desire, feel it dripping out of me.

His cock pushed against my pussy, the full thick lips parting eagerly. He split me easily, his hands on my hips controlling my thrusts down on him. "Oh yeah, I always knew you were a hot bitch, running around in your robe, flashing your tits and pussy. I've been wanting a poke at you, bitch. Make it good for me."

He groaned, his breathing becoming a mild wheeze. I could smell the cigarettes he'd always had hanging out of his mouth. Normally the smell would make me sick, but this was my day to be perverse. This fat toad was fucking me and I was relishing each thrust of his ugly cock into my pussy.

His hand came down on my ass, a red handprint now decorating my flesh. He squeezed it crudely, laughing as I moaned again. "Fuck me, bitch," he hissed, backing up until his legs hit the toilet and then he sat down, my feet touching the floor on either side of him. "Move your skinny ass." He slapped my butt once more, then his hands roamed over other parts of my body, squeezing the softness of my curves.

My nipples were at the level of his lips and he leaned forward, bringing one hard tip between his lips. I could feel the stabbing of his tongue against my flesh, a violent thrill making my head fall back and a moan come out of my mouth. His teeth bit down and he used them to pull on my breasts again, twiddling the hard nipple with his tongue. It was an invigorating sensation and my hips began to move. I couldn't believe I was fucking him. I was fucking this fat, disgusting man who smelled and tasted of stale cigarettes and rancid beer, his body odor almost too foul to be believed.

Worse still, I was enjoying it. I couldn't get enough of his hard cock splitting me in two. I moaned again, my hands going to his back, my nails biting into his shoulders. My hips moved faster, the flared ridge at the head of his cock teasing my clit.

He bit me again, this time on the lower curve of my breast. It hurt, but in a strange way it was exactly what I needed. I could feel the first tremors of what felt like the mother of all orgasms and I threw back my head, crying out.

"I'm going to come," I cried, the disbelieving tone of my voice evident. "You're going to make me come."

"I always knew you'd be hot when you'd gotten your head out of your ass," he growled. His hands were on my hips and he was directing my movement, his ass coming off the toilet seat as he thrust back up and inside of me. "That's it, bitch. Fuck me hard."

I was barely able to hear him. The ocean of my climax was pulling me under. He sounded as if he were under the waves, the noise loud and echoing in the quiet of the boarding house. The first spurt of his come quickly followed mine, his hand holding on to my body so hard that he left bruises on my hips.

"Fuck me, bitch," he groaned, his head falling back to rest against the tile wall behind the toilet.

Spasms filled me, waves of heated bliss that surprised me with their magnitude. I was shaking, barely able to feel my feet, when he lifted me suddenly, turning so that I had my hands on the toilet seat and he could fill me from behind.

His hands moved, his palms striking on my ass as if he were playing a set of bongo drums. Then he reached down, grabbing the long tail of my hair and using it to pull me back. He held me there, his body jacking into mine, abusing mine.

I came again before he pulled out the second time. I relaxed a bit against the wall, unbelieving of how good I felt. It was almost as if I'd needed this, needed him to fully make me into the creature of blood and violence, of darkness and evil, that I was.

But he wasn't done yet. I felt his cock sliding against my cunt and then one of his hands scooping up some of the copious secretions of my pussy. When I felt his hand against my ass, his finger pushing into the tight ring of muscle guarding my sphincter, I almost screamed. I wouldn't do this for my boyfriend, the man that I'd professed to love unstintingly. What the hell had this slob thinking that I would do it for him?

"No!" I cried, moving against his hands that were trying to hold me still. "I don't do that."

He smirked even though I was forcing him to use more of his strength than he'd expected. He slapped my ass hard, making me realize that what he'd done before had been love taps. I could feel the tears building in my eyes and falling down my face. It was another first for me. I just wasn't the type to cry over situations beyond my control.

"Fuck my pussy or not at all." The words were spoken with more authority than I was used to using. Most of the men I fed on came willingly. They loved the way the feel of the bite would make them come, and come hard, even as I drained them dry. But this creep didn't seem like he was willing to listen to me and I tried to turn around, to look him in the eye and let him know I was serious. "Stop it!"

Instead of stopping, he thrust against me hard, the head of his cock popping into my now slicked channel. I squealed at the feeling, the invasion of what he was doing. I tried to move again but he slapped my face, hard.

"Bitch, hold still and you'll enjoy this. I got time to come again before work and I want to enjoy this. I don't get eighteen-year-old pussy too often."

I thought about his words even as he continued to grunt against me, pushing more of his cock into my ass. All I could think was that he probably hadn't had eighteen-year-old pussy since he had an eighteen-year-old cock.

He continued to rut, thrusting into my no longer virgin ass with relish. "I knew you'd be a good fuck," he gasped, his finger moving down my stomach and then probing past the curls on my pussy to find my clit. The first stroke had my head spinning. It felt almost too good; even the monster cock battering my ass had my pussy quivering, wanting to come again.

"See, it's not so bad," he hissed, a snarl of pleasure twisting his mouth. "Push that hot ass on me, baby. Fuck me back." His hand flattened, slapping against my pussy with almost startling ferocity. That little bit of extra violence had me slamming back into him, begging for more.

"Fuck me," I cried, the beginning of my third orgasm making my voice rough and hoarse. "Fuck my ass!" It hit me fast and hard, startlingly hard. I could feel my pussy convulse, spasms racking into my ass, tightening and causing it to tingle around his cock.

It had never been this good. I'd never had such wonderful climaxes, never wanted to force a man to give me more. I couldn't believe the sound of my voice, the harsh cries that were torn from me as I felt the heat of his sperm flood deep into my bowels. It was so intense, so amazingly wonderful, the only words that came to my mind were something I'd heard off a movie when I was still human.

It was bloody fucking brilliant. My knees were weak and shaky and I was lucky that I was already dead. I could barely draw a single breath into my lungs. If I'd needed to breathe, well it might have been bad. But another reaction was beginning, deep inside, deep where I hid the beast that controlled a lot of my emotions these days. It was another voice that was demanding to be heard, and I groaned.

I wanted to feed. The scent of blood filled my nostrils and I could feel the reaction deep into my pussy. I wanted to turn and tear out the throat of this man who rested against my back. I could feel drops of his sweat on my back and wanted to turn and lick them off his forehead. Even as I had that thought, I wanted to vomit. When had I ever wanted to lick sweat off a horny middle-aged man, especially one that had just gotten done fucking my ass?

Something was fucking wrong with me today, not just wrong but terribly not right. I never would have thought of doing that to any man, even good-looking as my boyfriend had been. I'd never thought to fuck a man as old as this one, and even worse, enjoyed it as much. I'd never thought of a beer-guzzling old pervert as sexy, or even enticing enough to let him do the things he had. I shuddered in distaste.

He slapped my ass once more, pulling out of me. I felt the heat of his come as it ran out of my abused ass, dripping on to the floor. He bent down behind me and for a moment I tensed, wondering what other kinds of perversions he had in mind. Instead I felt the silky softness of the robe I'd worn in here this morning, and then a slap on my ass.

"Thanks for the tussle," he said. He turned me around and headed me toward the bathroom door. "Meet me here tonight and I'll show you what those teenyboppers have no idea how to do." He shut the door behind me, the lock turning securely. I stood for a moment, staring down the long hallway of the boarding house. I could hear the sound of alarms going off in some of the other rooms and knew that I had to get back to my room.

A door opened and another gizzard old man walked out, his eyes lighting up as they saw me standing there like I was some kind of sex toy. I jerked in horror, quickly throwing my robe over my shoulders and thrusting my arms into the sleeves. I tied it securely, my hand in the pocket searching and finding the key to my room. With shaky legs I rushed past the old man, feeling my lover's sperm flooding from my ass and pussy.

"Don't go on my account," he called after me, a high-pitched chortle falling from his old lips. "I mean, I don't mind."

I shot him a one-fingered salute and turned the corner that led to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I hurried to the third floor and slid into my room without seeing anyone else. I tossed the key on the desk, pulling open the tiny fridge in the almost non-existent kitchen that cost me an extra fifty dollars a month to have. Pulling out a soda, I popped the top and took a big drink, savoring the harshness of the acidic liquid.

I plopped down on the chair that sat before my desk and then squealed, standing back up immediately. "Fuck!" My ass was beginning to throb. Not the nice throbbing like my pussy did when I'd been fucked well and good. Oh no, not that kind of throbbing at all.

This one felt like a toothache, one of those that had your jaw aching and you knew nothing would make it quit hurting. A short burst of laughter fell from my lips. Great; now my ass felt like a toothache.

I hated the cold feel of the sperm that coated the back of my robe and I quickly skimmed it off. There was blood mixed with that sperm; why that surprised me, I don't know. I'd just been ass-raped, so why should I think there wouldn't be blood?

I grabbed a bottle of water out of the small fridge and found a bowl. Pouring the water over the stain, I scrubbed and scrubbed at it. It bled into the water, leaving it a light pink. I squeezed out the fabric, then got out my small rope and hung it from the chair and the back of the full-sized brass bed. I folded the robe over it, hoping that it would dry quickly.

A shiver escaped me and I yawned, feeling as if my mouth would crack open. It was dawn and the light from the sun was outlined on the one window in the room. The window, one of the other things I had to pay for with extra money in my rent, was covered by a heavy blanket,

I could feel the dead shiver of day starting to creep over me and I reached out for a washcloth, wanting to take a few seconds to clean up before I slept. I couldn't stand the smell of his sperm or the slightly shitty feeling around my ass. Using a bit of the water, I cleaned myself up as well as I could, knowing I would be down early evening to shower off the stink of the man.

Another yawn surprised me and I dropped the washcloth in the water, reaching for the tiny nightgown that was my favorite. I pulled it over my head, feeling the elastic snuggle under my breasts. Making sure that the door was locked, I headed for bed, pulling my blanket over my head.

It was an eerie feeling and one I still wasn't comfortable with. Vampires called it the sun-death. Only the oldest of our species could stay awake during the day. It was one of the reasons that we found familiars, someone to watch over us during the day to make sure we were kept safe.

I'd tried that once. Living with the girl had almost driven me mad. She wouldn't stop talking. She listened to her damn music so that she could hear it over her own voice. She talked on the phone nonstop. I'd ditched her when I could. I can still remember her eyes when she saw me board that train out of Canada, leaving her there with a wallet full of money and a train ticket to wherever she wanted to go.

Now I stayed on my own, coming up with my own ways to protect myself. But that will have to be explained tomorrow. Sun-death called and I took one last breath, blowing it out and closing my eyes. I could leave them open if I wanted but they would always be so dry when I woke. It was just easier this way.

My arms grew stiff and my legs began to tighten. It was almost weird as I felt every muscle of my body turn to stone, dying off, only to be reborn with the night. My last thought as the death took me was for the man who'd raped me. I would be seeing him again, this time on my own terms. A smile crossed my lips and they stayed that way until night.