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Personal Crimson

Summary:

A new manager in the company you work at often demands your presence to clean his office. The thing is, you start to suffer anemia from the early days you follow his request.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Something large, heavy, and cold pinning you down into the unfamiliar mattress, shadowing above you. A firm clutch by the underside of your thigh—the one that was lifted as your knee pressed against one of your upper arms. On the other side of your torso, a forearm was tucked under your shoulder blade, half-imprisoning you. Remaining on that same side, chilly breaths brushed against your sweat-coated skin as further down your other leg was splayed around his breakneck speed of wheeling hips.

His?

Behind the glued of your heavy eyelids and in half-consciousness, you tried to pull the last fragments of recollection from the depth of your somewhat foggy mind.

Right.

Him.

A new manager in the company you had been working at for over a decade. A leader in one of the departments, and a well-respected one at that matter. A man of a peculiar charm who always drew eyes and pleasant murmurs wherever he at or went in spite of how abnormally pale his skin frequently looked so.

At first, you couldn't care less about his existence as you usually did to most employees over there, even less as you weren't a member of his department.

That was until he seemingly put a particular interest in you.

The problem was, there was no any perspective that could portray as ordinary his way of attempting to gain your attention. Since you worked as a janitor in the company and he chose to demand your presence—and only you—whenever he found the need to get his private office cleaned. And found the need to clean often he had.

And as you began to suffer out-of-nowhere anemia you initially thought due to exhaustion that got worse the more days went by with your compliance to that his specific demand, eventually you felt you had it enough and submitted your resignation notice, planning on to work at a smaller company where an old friend of yours held a strong influence there and had agreed in getting you inside.

Alas, all the long-in-advance arrangements were for naught, as in the span of minutes after you hit the 'send' button in your email to the manager of your own department, you heard multiple gentle knocks on your apartment door. And the last thing you recalled you saw as you opened the door was a pair of as red as blood eyes in replace for his usual, normal colors.

After which then followed by the large blocks of time before you arrived at this current moment, in which you found yourself being trapped underneath his brawny build the second you reluctantly had your awfully heavy eyelids tucked up. You, stark-naked and cloaked by layers of sweat as opposed to his half-clothed figure emitting chilly temperature against his surroundings—including you. And below, right betwixt your legs, you could sense his brutal tempo advancing in and retreating out of you. The impact your body was receiving and the friction generated as his gigantic cock carried the inhuman pace and forced-split you wide open around him was undeniable, but that was almost all about it.

Where was the sensuous delight on your part?

You were no virgin by any means. You knew how it should 'feel' liked regardless of your mental unawareness.

Though not only that. There was zilch pain nor discomfort even the slightest, in your pussy or any part of your body.

Pure friction and the violence bounces of your entire being as his hips slammed interminably against you.

“Forgive me,” his deep, sensual voice slithered into your ear provoking goosebumps down along the side of your body. As he maintained his indomitable thrusts and the grip on your thigh, he took your lobule in between his teeth and briefly nibbled before continuing, “I can't allow you to feel 'it' yet. We need to keep as ideal blood pressure as possible for when I feast.”

?????

“Can't—let your blood goes south too much,” his rugged, cold breath on your earlobe caused tingle again, but not pleasant nor unpleasant. Then he dragged his face down under your jaw, sniffing and pressing his icy lips against where major arteries pulsated temptingly beneath your warm, delicate skin. “It could risk you passing out—” his voice sunk way deeper all of a sudden, along with a faint snarl in his throat, “—due to your recurring anemia since I made you—”

He discontinued his sentence. And before you managed to process his every word—or any single thing at all for that matter—he parted his lips and planted something, two things, tiny and sharp into your neck, undoubtedly tearing your skin and downright reaching your blood vessels without missed.

…His… fangs…? But, no human should have those kinds of sharpness as fangs…

Furthermore, beyond everything, once again you found no pain from his one more assault, just mere sensation that you were being penetrated into… and humidity in few seconds following that around where he established the incursion.

“S-Sir—”

As if responding to your brittle voice, his blunt nails dug deeper into the bottom side of your lifted thigh. His other arm under your shoulder blade tightened, practically squeezing your torso and your one folded leg within his possessive embrace. Down there in the warmth of your hole, his thrusts intensified in speed and force you never had thought any man—human—capable of doing so. Mantles of sticky liquid all over your inner thighs indicated the huge release of your arousal fluid, but contrary to the hard evidence, there wasn't the slightest 'excitement' that took place on your part.

Above, his fangs buried further into your neck as he generated acquisitive slurping noises from the sucking motions his mouth did. And certainly, you felt an amount of blood drained out of you, causing piecemeal development of cold sensation on your face which almost right away crept down about your neck, shoulders… and so forth…

Despite the precautionary measure he mentioned to you earlier, you felt your head lightened all the more nevertheless. As your irises rolled up barely into the back of your head, you blinked slowly at the shaky, blurry view of the foreign ceiling of the room which was slightly blocked by the sight of your own foot in the air. In frail you lifted a hand, burying your trembled fingers in between the lush strands of his uncustomary messy dark hair, but having not enough stamina to clutch and pull as a means to get his head away from your neck.

Even with your failed effort, still you met the consequence as you heard a terrifying growl like no other, as reflected by the profound vibration from his clothed chest pressing against the bare of your jiggling breasts.

Drowsily you gasped when the next second he fastened one more time his enveloping chilly frame around you, and so did his thrusts in your remarkably sleek cunt and obsessive sucking performance on your neck, reminding you of a starving stray cat unwilling to let go a tasty fresh fish from the grasp of its sharp teeth. Meanwhile, on and on fluid of arousal and blood left your body, making you dizzy further and shiver from the drop in your own body temperature.

“P-phleashe—” you curled your quivered fingers in his hair as progressively darkened the world in your field of vision, “S-Shir—”

Your plea only deteriorated his aggression more than ever as you were rammed into in an unimaginable tempo and rhythm, bringing about obscene noises in the air and sending your body bouncing in the limited space he was established since the onset of this unasked event. But while harrowing (albeit the lack of aches on your part), it was also a promising indicator for the imminent of his peak… That, if he would indeed intend to end 'all' his despicable deed to you for when it transpired.

However, what other option did you have in this your 'restricted' situation?

Considering that fact, you decided to await, letting him do as he liked as you felt his massive cock moving belligerently inside you, throbbing alarmingly, stretching you further around his width.

Though much to your surprise, and thankfully, he retracted his teeth fangs first—carefully and with a closing of a singular lick—before he finally spilled in the depth of you. Entering the fuzzy of your line of view was the color of blood—yours obviously—that took a good portion of his face, all the while you sensed rope after rope of hot cum released off him rushing into your womb.

“It's happening again after my centuries of solitariness,” his now normal color eyes glinted in sorrow as he sat and looked down at your half-aware face. The outburst of his seed stopped, but his cock idled and didn't soften where it nestled inside you. “When 'we' fall, we fall hard," he expressed as if one recited grief poetry, "and nothing can satisfy our 'needs' like the object of our love can.” From the pocket of his shirt, he withdrew a small bottle out. A dropping pipette beneath when he pulled the cap off, filled with semi-transparent green liquid. He aligned vertically the pipette and let a drop fall through your already slightly agape lips.

Strength overbrimmed your entire being as soon as the droplet ventured down your throat, and so did all the 'blocked' sensations, surging you with extreme pleasure like you never had in your entire life. “A-Ahhh~~” your erotic cry came out discordant as you curved your torso from the mattress. “S-Sir—” a pathetic entreaty slid off your quivered lips, feeling your hole ache and contract desperately around him, and leaking more with richened mucus, “p-please—”

“Of course, My Dear.” An as-warm-as-sunshine smile like you never saw bloomed across his face before in the gentlest fashion he folded your frame in half. “Forgive me,” said he as he rose on his knees. “I couldn't let you consume the potion in advance since it could spoil the taste of your scrumptious blood. Well, scrumptious only for me at least.”

The color of your eyes disappeared into your skull once he moved again. Uncaring for the world, you let chains of loud filthy moans fly off your mouth as you felt warm tears soak your face.

Digging his nails into your thighs, he drilled inside you at around the same dire tempo he had previously as if he hadn't had his climax yet. Amid which he removed one hand to slap yours when you tried to reach your clit. “That would be my responsibility to take care of, Dear,” despite your whimper, he admonished authoritatively before squashing your aching bud under the pad of his thumb.

Your back arched wild and all limbs reacted in frantic at the cold contact. And several seconds of circular motions were all you need before you gripped his pistoning cock in your hole and exploded around him, of course, with his rightful title escaping aloud unabashedly from your mouth, and as the sparkle of stars crowded your vision.

Once more he responded to your voice with the deepest growl and the escalation of his rhythm, though it took him longer this round to attain his second peak inside you. When he did, you had been once more losing your consciousness, though only because you felt a little bit sleepy…

An ornamental gold bracer around one of your forearms the next you awoke in his… lavish yet oddly designed bedroom. But that wasn't the only thing that sent you this ominous hunch. As your now clear eyes explored the windowless spacious room for the first time, you located the 'man' sitting on one of the sides of the room in a dark gray armchair, clad in a new clean dark red velvet robe. No more stain of (your) blood about his face nor red as his eyes. Flawless, healthy-looking skin.

“Sir,” you found your steady voice after a few moments went by in silence and exchanging glances.

A thin smile, almost melancholic, cracked under his… breath(?). “As much as I love the way you called me so during our intimate session,” he finally responded, honey-sweet-like voice, “I prefer you call me by my name on a daily basis.”

“…Ragnis?” It was his 'name' in the workplace.

“It's Belsae Nortanark,” he smiled again. “But you can just call me Bels.”

You let another stillness fall in the room as you digested the new information and the situation you were currently in. “You won't let me go, will you?” more of a rhetorical question as you brushed the gold bracer with the pads of your fingers.

“Forgive me,” he sounded and appeared genuinely apologetic. “If it's any consolation, you still can wander outside, just not… here.”

There would be no escape. You just knew it. Though strangely enough, for some reason you experienced no trepidation as if you were destined to walk on the unforeseen future on his side. But, still. “Where… would it be?”

“My hometown, a hidden city, where my kind and kins have been living age after age over.”

Notes:

This is a modified work from the male reader version I published on Tumblr on February 15th, 2023
So, let me know if I missed-pronounce any words or terms.
In any case, hope you enjoyed this!