Suzy had waited for this day for most of her entire life. At first she’d fantasized about it. Then she fell into the BDSM scene looking for partners that played the way she did. But, in the last few months, even that had grown stale. So she’d started preparing for the real thing by herself.
She’d started with nails, one each through the thickest part of her areolas just at the bases of her nipples. She hadn’t the nerve at the time to spear the nubs themselves. But the thrill had been so intense, she’d fingered herself to the best orgasm she’d ever had, all the while leaning back and making the two spikes pull at her screaming flesh.
The second time, she laid her breasts on the table. Thinking they looked like feasts on a platter, she’d started with one nail through the areola on each side of her nipples. She imagined their fangs doing the same thing, saving the best little bite for last.
Biting her lip through the pain, she watched in fascination as each slim steel spike dimpled the wrinkled skin and then skewered her flesh when she drove the hammer came down. The pain was so intense and wonderful she decided then to go the distance.
After masturbating herself until she was only moments from coming, she pinned her left nipple dead center with a two-penny’s sharp tip. After giving her clit one last, hard rub, she punched the nail through with a decisive hammer blow. It was all she could do to bite back the scream and fight off the orgasm long enough to drive a nail through the right side. She’d no sooner buried her fingers between her legs than the orgasm exploded through her. She had no doubt her neighbors had heard the wild cries of ecstasy, but she hadn’t cared.
Eventually she’d grown to simulating what she dreamed would be their feral attack by hammering a dozen nails each through her breasts’ tortured tips until there was more steel showing than flesh. As blood ran from the wounds and washed over the wood beneath them, she imagined what it would be like to have vampires taking her that way for real.
Once that thrill had grown pale, he faked their biting using steel hair clips, the ones with teeth like piranha, ripping mercilessly at herself until she’d come a half-dozen times and her nipples and areolas glistened crimson from a hundred tears while her breasts dripped with red.
Every time, the orgasms were better than the ones before them. Now, just the thought made her horny. Not only could she take the wicked self-torture, she delighted in it. In fact, it had come to the point she could almost started coming from the torment alone.
Intellectually, she knew she’d probably be better off seeking therapy. Even if that wasn’t the case, there was no way she could simulate being ravished by vampires. They moved too fast, and they would be far more callous and cruel. But she figured she’d make it through the finest parts, the orgasms and the best of the torment before the pain overwhelmed her.
Many people romanticized vampires, but Suzy knew there wasn’t anything romantic about it — at least not to them. They only used sex to make sure plenty of hormones flavored her blood, and they’d only ravage her pussy and breasts to satisfy their inhuman thirsts. None of that mattered to her. What mattered was, they’d fuck her raw while punishing her in ways she’d only dreamed of.
The fact that they might well keep her caged up for seconds or more didn’t bother her. She even entertained the possibility she might not make it through. Everyone died. Very few picked the way they wanted to go. Her last sight would be that of her own nipples and breasts, ravished from their hungry feeding. Her last sensations would be sweet agony and ecstasy. Her last breaths would be the gasps of an insane orgasm. How many people went out that way?
The hardest part had actually been getting the gig. Vampires could afford to be picky. Women and men far better looking than Sue flocked to them in droves. She had to find a way to make sure they chose her.
The way finally came thanks to a prominent New Orleans businessman with a taste for tits. She’d met him in a BDSM club. After drinking enough absinthe to dull the apprehension and numb her mind just enough, she’d let him tie her up and belt enough welts across her breasts to last half a month. She could still feel the burning agony from the leather strip biting into her flesh over and over again, making her tits bounce so hard it hurt. Even so, he’d been skilled enough to make her come, a bonus since that hadn’t been in her plan.
The bruises and bite marks had taken even longer to go away. There was still a faint semi-circular scar arching across the upper curve of her areola from the stitches that put her back together after she’d unexpectedly come, bucking in surprise while he was biting her particularly hard. Not that it mattered. When her areolas were cold or excited, you could hardly see the scar through the wrinkles — and they were excited most of the time.
Before her third orgasm — the one that came as a result of the near nipple removal — he’d dubbed her “Milky Suzy.” When he’d gone for her other nipple, the evil gleam in his eyes told her he wanted to finish the job. A part of her wanted to let him, to feel the sweet agony from deep inside her sub-space as he nipped it from her breast. It was a hard call, but if she’d let him finish she’d have never gotten here. She had to have her nipples to make it happen.
Disappointment aside, he’d stayed true to his word. After using the milky tits she planned to barter to the vampires for his personal enjoyment, he made the contact she needed.
The idea of making them milky came after she’d started following a couple of the vampire blogs that dealt primarily with how to best enjoy their meals. It was kind of like a recipe-sharing forum, only for vampires. It wasn’t long before she started seeing a lot of conversations about “strawberry milk shakes.” It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the ingredients — milk and blood from a lactating human breast. Unfortunately, even for vampires, taking pregnant humans without their consent was frowned upon, so strawberry milkshakes were a very rare commodity.
Since Suzy wasn’t pregnant, she’d turned to Google and learned out how to fake it with the right amount of hormone therapy and a hospital grade breast pump. It was easier to trick her tits into going into full-blown production than she’d thought it would be — and a lot more fun.
Looking down at them as she walked up the concrete drive toward the address she’d been given, she knew her hosts would be pleased. They had to be.
She stopped for a moment, tugged her white bikini’s the thin top down from the tips, and watched as they tightened. Her ruby-brown nipples themselves were hard and thick. Half again as big as the used to be, they were half-an-inch across and easily an inch long. Her areola had grown larger, too. Even tight and creviced, they were at least four inches across from one edge to the other. They were a deep rose-tinged tan, way darker than before she’d started her lactation regime.