Misty's Need Ch. 01

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A vampire story, Misty submits to an ancient Mexican Goddess.
1.9k words
4.16
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Part 1 of the 21 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 03/22/2020
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Prologue

Valentina slept. No, that's not exactly true, for to all human understanding Valentina was well and truly dead. But that's not exactly true either, for while Valentina's body, lying there in her big bed, was dead, her mind remained active.

The ancient people in her land of Mexico considered her their Goddess. They had worshiped her for centuries as the Goddess Mictecacihuatl. The title Goddess was apt, for she was indeed such. Modern people, steeped in the terrifying legends of Eastern Europe would consider her a vampire. That term was perhaps equally fitting.

As her cold and still blood pooled within her decaying body Valentina dreamed exciting dreams. Her dreams were such for she knew that Misty was on her way. Misty, her latest prey, her new pet, drove and dominated her dreams, for very soon, she knew, that most interesting of creatures would be kneeling at her feet.

On one of her recent, and frequent forays into Misty's mind, Valentina had made certain to leave an understanding within her prey of exactly who and what she was traveling to encounter. Valentina knew that Misty understood that she was giving herself over to a true Goddess, not a mortal woman.

Valentina had taken pains to ensure that Misty fully acknowledged to herself that at Valentina's hand she would find her own personal destruction. Eventually, her death as Valentina consumed every drop of her precious blood.

Misty was coming to Valentina willingly, gratefully actually. Just as countless others had done in ancient times. Misty was coming to her on an airliner. In times now long past they came equally willingly to her by climbing the steps of sacred pyramids. The form had changed, yet the impulse towards self-destruction that was buried deeply within all those born as prey remained the same.

Valentina dreamed, her dream a vision of Misty coming to her, climbing up the stairs of the pyramid that once dominated the skyline of Tenochtitlan, Valentina's beloved City of Mexico. Finally reaching the summit Misty would fall to her knees, and there at Valentina's feet, meet her individual extinction.

Valentina was dead, her body was moldering in her bed, yet she dreamed. She dreamed wonderful dreams.

Chapter 1

Misty worked up all of her courage and stepped over the threshold, entering the airplane. In the normal way of things it was a small step, yet to her, it was the largest step she had taken in her life. Only her firm resolve and promise to herself that she would follow through prevented her from turning around and fleeing the jet.

She showed the flight attendant her ticket, and was directed to a large seat in First Class. Valentina had purchased the ticket for her, and the fact that Valentina had obviously spared no expense made Misty feel wanted and special. These were wonderful, yet unfamiliar feelings for her.

Misty would be flying from Seattle to Puerto Vallarta. It was cold and wet on the Puget Sound on this middle of January day, but she knew that the weather would be wonderful when she deplaned under the Mexican sun a few short hours from now.

As she had been directed in Valentina's message about this trip, Misty had very little with her. There had been no need to check a bag, or even place what she had in an overhead bin. She had only a colorful tote that she slid under the seat in front of her. It contained nothing but her Passport, her wallet with her credit cards and a bit of cash, a small bag of toiletries, and makeup. Notably absent were any clothes beyond what she was wearing. Misty would have liked to have taken much more along with her on this trip, especially as she was scheduled to be in Mexico for a full week, but Valentina had been very specific about what she could bring, and assured her that she would need nothing else.

The flight attendant interrupted Misty's reflections, offering her a flute of champagne. Misty accepted, and slowly sipped the bubbly wine while other passengers, those less fortunate than she, struggled to board in coach class.

Lost again in her own thoughts, Misty smiled to herself as she remembered how oddly limiting Valentina's list of what she was permitted bring with her was. Had the instructions come from anyone else, Misty would have felt free to ignore them. Instead she would have brought exactly what she thought that she would need for a week in sunny paradise.

Misty also mused that a packing list provided by anyone else would have been delivered as a friendly suggestion, as an attempt to be helpful. Valentina however did not give Misty friendly suggestions. She gave orders and she expected those orders to be obeyed.

Misty saw from the very start of their correspondence that Valentina was unlike anyone else she had ever known. Valentina had a presence of command and left no doubt but that her directions were to be followed to the letter. That ability to give direction and both inspire and require obedience was exactly what had attracted Misty to Valentina.

Valentina had been quite upfront about the fact that obedience was extremely important to her and that if Misty sought a relationship with her, then she needed to be willing and able to submit to Valentina's orders. Misty had never sought after control in her own life, in fact she was seeking out a relationship in which she would be subjected to the control of another. During one of their first phone conversations, when Valentina assured her that she would not hesitate to enforce obedience through the infliction of pain, Misty finally dared to hope that she might have finally found the partner she had spent her lifetime fruitlessly searching for.

It had taken Misty all of her courage to board the plane because she knew that she was flying in to a foreign country, in order to meet a woman who would beat her, and who would enjoy beating her. That certain knowledge filled Misty with dread and she could feel that dread physically, deep in her chest.

She had learned all about the fight or flight response in university, but she was willfully choosing neither. Instead Misty was willingly placing herself into the hands of another, another who had clearly communicated about her own sadism. Misty felt dread and fear, terror even in short flashes, but these were offset by other feelings and other needs. Longing, anticipation, and lust, these fought and overpowered the feelings of dread in her breast.

Misty understood herself well enough to know that extremely strict control by another was exactly what she needed most in her life. Just thinking about packing for her trip according to Valentina's direction caused an intense erotic longing to spark within her. She was always amazed at how quickly, and powerfully her body would respond whenever her thoughts turned towards Valentina, and obeying Valentina.

Obedience. Misty understood that word to sum up her entire being, indeed her very soul. She needed to obey, to be expected to obey, and to be forced to obey if necessary. She needed to be degraded and used, ultimately to lose her own self in the will of another.

Misty abhorred her free will, her ability and even legal right to make decisions. She wanted, needed really, someone else to make the decisions, some other. She didn't want to have a will of her own, rather she wanted to be a tool for someone other, a tool that he, or even she, could use to carry out his or her own will.

Misty longed for a world in which decisions about and for her were made by another. A world where the questions weren't even discussed or her opinion sought. A world in which important decisions about her and her life were simply made by someone else, she could be informed of these decisions, or not, as the other party thought best, but she would always be expected to carry those decisions out, to obey, even if she disagreed.

She hoped with all of her heart that Valentina was that other. That Valentina truly was the she who must be obeyed. She was leaving her country, flying down the continent to discover just that for herself.

As it always did Misty's body reacted swiftly and powerfully to her thoughts of obedience and loss of control.

Misty asked the flight attendant for a blanket. She knew that once it was spread out over her body she would be able to touch herself in her own unique way, to tease her body while thinking of Valentina during the long flight ahead. She would tease her lips, her delicate folds, through her panty, with the tips of her fingers, occasionally allowing those fingertips to find their way to her fabric covered clit.

She would not allow her fingers to explore under her panty, for then she knew that the temptation to penetrate herself with a fingertip could become too great. Misty had always masturbated over her panties, had never allowed her body to be penetrated, not even by herself. She often wondered what it would feel like to run a fingertip down her moist slit without fabric between them. What it would feel like to have a finger between her labia or inside her vagina. Despite her curiosity, and countless hours of fantasy, she had never done anything of the sort. Misty had never touched herself erotically unless it was through her clothing.

She dreamed often of cocks or dildos being plunged into her pussy or pounded up her ass, but in her mind those were things that only a dominant person with the power to take her had a right to do. She didn't feel that she had that right, for she was not strong and dominant, rather she was weak and submissive. A strong and dominant man or woman had a right to claim her body and sexuality. From her very first erotic awakening Misty understood that if it were to thrive, her sexuality had to be controlled by another. At a very fundamental level she didn't think that she owned her body, or had any right to use it as she desired.

Her mouth, lips, and tongue. Her cunt, her ass, her tits. Misty had always believed that these things were owned by another, a mysterious other that she had not yet met. They were his, or hers, to use, and hopefully to abuse. Misty would not permit herself to trespass by sliding a finger between the moist lips of her slit, by riding a vibrator to get off, or by pushing a dildo deeply into her ass.

She understood that her need to have another in absolute control of her sexuality was a fundamental part of her sense of self. She needed to perform sexually precisely how and exactly when another commanded. Society had tried to teach her that she owned her body, and that she had a right to refuse consent. Misty rejected those teachings. She disavowed ownership of her body. She believed that it belonged to another, she just didn't know who that other was yet.

Misty had explained all of this to Valentina, and that woman seemed to understand. She expressed appreciation at the fact that Misty had denied herself for years in order to keep herself from violating the property of her eventual owner.

Misty received her blanket. She allowed her fingertips to raise the hem of her skirt to her waist. Then she gently stroked a single finger across her panty and found it, and herself to be wet.


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