A chaotic vampire mistress flees her lord by swapping bodies with a blacksmith's apprentice, leaving him in her sexy undead body in Dark Lord Lord's Mistress 1, available on Body Swap Stories, Smashwords or Amazon. Part 1 of 4.
This one is a bit of a stylistic departure from my usual but still features the body swap erotica you know and love. I'm really happy with how this series turned out and hope you all enjoy it, too!
Layton is a blacksmith's apprentice, soon to set out on his own, when he is seduced by Sanda. She appears to be an upper class lady with priceless jewels around her neck and a rich dress that spills down her gorgeous form in rich layers of silk. Her beauty plus her vampiric powers of seduction make her impossible to resist. Sanda wants him for his body and takes it during an afternoon tryst, leaving Layton shocked and scrambling to collect himself in her petticoats while she walks off into the sunlight in his brawny form.
Layton soon discovers the truth about who he's become: not only is he a beautiful woman, he is also a creature of the night with strong powers of seduction and a hunger for blood. As Sanda enjoys wild debauchery in her new masculine form, Layton must escape from her dark lord's enforcers, who are hunting him down to make him pay for Sanda's treacherous crimes.
This period supernatural thriller includes explicit erotic scenes and is for mature readers only.
Prologue
The two vagabonds were in high spirits when they tromped into the tavern around sunset. They bellowed a friendly greeting to the familiar tavern keeper who stood behind the bar. The keeper was absently polishing a glass and he failed to return their greeting. He stared, transfixed, across the room. The two men followed his gaze to find a woman seated at the corner of the tavern farthest from the window.
Not only was she unchaperoned and unfamiliar to the two men, but her manner of dress was much too fine for the rustic establishment in which she sat. Her dress was a symphony of opulence and refinement, a masterpiece crafted from the finest silks and satins. Its bodice was a work of art, meticulously tailored to accentuate her figure with an air of sophistication. Pearlescent beads and intricate lace cascaded down the front in delicate patterns. The hoop skirt and bustle puffed out behind and around her.
The neckline was an exquisite balance between modesty and allure, a gentle curve that revealed just a hint of collarbone, leaving the rest to the imagination. A necklace of blood red rubies hung around her throat, glinting an evil light as they reflected the fire in the hearth. The fire was modest, it being the height of summer it was necessary more for light than for heat in the dingy tavern and even then it did a poor job.
The dress flowed from her waist in a cascade of fabric, a river of silk that pooled at her feet in graceful folds. Its color, a deep obsidian hue that bespoke of wealth and power, seemed to absorb the light, leaving only the faintest glimmer upon the delicate silvery embroidery that adorned its hems. The filigree of intricate patterns seemed to catch the firelight and make her outline sparkle.
The sleeves, though modest in length, were a canvas of artistry. Sheer ebony fabric was delicately embroidered with silver motifs of flora and fauna, their beauty frozen in time as if plucked from a secret garden. Her raven-black hair was pinned back and covered by an eloquent coiffe set at an angle atop her head. Her head was down, staring at her hands in her lap and unmoving, looking for all the world as if she were asleep.
She appeared regal and very much out of place in the dark confines of the dingy tavern. Though the room was not large, the few others sitting in the room gave her a wide berth. Their mumbles of conversation seemed muffled and uncertain and they kept casting glances her way. She kept her pale face down and did not seem to acknowledge the attention her simple appearance was bringing.
The two men who’d just entered, Bogdan and Sergiu, were not known for their intelligence nor their manners, and were quite unaffected by the solemn air that seemed to emanate from the strange woman.
“Who’s that then?” Bogdan asked the tavern keeper, jerking his thumb back towards her.
The tavern keeper shook his head but didn’t answer and continued drawing the cloth around and around the glass in his hand.
“He’s been struck dumb,” Sergiu cackled.
“It’s not every day a fallen woman falls at our feet,” Bogdan snickered.
“And look at her clothes,” Sergiu grinned. “She’s got money, she does.”
“Maybe that speaks to the quality of her services,” Bogdan quipped before roaring laughter.
Bogdan wove his way around the tables towards the woman, Sergiu following behind. The two men were experienced in burglary and theft, and were already tallying up the woman’s worth in their heads as they approached. Bogdan wiped his sweaty hands on his already-greasy trousers and then pushed back his hair. Upon reaching the table where the woman sat he leaned on it, staring down at the woman, eyes probing her figure, gaze seeking entry down the curve of her neckline.
“Hello, lovely,” he grinned, before stringing together a phrase that had never yet been uttered in history. “What’s a woman like you doing in a place like this?”
She looked up at him slowly, the movement of her neck fluid and graceful. Bogdan’s grin faltered as she stared into his eyes, a hint of a smile playing upon her lips. Her pupils were pitch black, giving her the cold, dead eyes of a shark. Her face was elegantly crafted, fine chin, sculpted cheekbones, tiny nose, ruby red lips, smooth pale skin. She didn’t appear to be much more than nineteen-years-old but there was a worldliness about her that insinuated she was vastly older than that.
“Maybe I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred.
“Oh ho!” Sergiu exclaimed, poking Bogdan in the ribs. “Waiting for us, hey?”
“Name your price, love,” Bogdan said, boldly reaching for her breast.
He never made it. One moment the woman was sitting placidly and the next instant she was gripping his arm. She hadn’t even appeared to move. Her grip was vice-like and her long nails dug painfully through Bogdan’s shirt and into his skin. She smiled a horrible wicked smile and Bogdan was suddenly afraid.
“I don’t think you’re prepared to pay it,” she said, in a voice that was now deliciously smoky.
“Let go of me,” Bogdan said, fear making his voice quake.
Sergiu still hadn’t quite grasped what was happening and he looked at Bogdan curiously. Bogdan grappled for the knife he kept in a sheath around his waist. Grabbing it, he tried to stab the woman. The blade flashed towards her and stopped just as suddenly as she caught his other hand and laughed. Her fingers were wrapped around his, giving them both a death grip on the knife.
“Hey,” Sergiu yelped, finally noticing his friend’s predicament. “Let him go.”
They were his final words as he lunged towards the woman. The woman spun Bogdan around with his knife hand so that it plunged up and into Sergiu’s neck. His eyes went wide and he gargled as a stream of crimson spurted from the wound and onto Bogdan, who was still trapped in the woman’s impossibly steely grip. Her hand kept his wrapped around the knife that was now plunged into his friend’s neck. When she pulled his hand back and withdrew the knife Sergiu gurgled and fell to the floor.
Bogdan went weak in the knees and was held up only by the woman’s strength. She brought his hand with the bloody knife closer to her face before sticking out her tongue and licking the knife from base to tip. The blood flowed down her tongue and a beatific smile appeared across her face.
“Delicious,” she moaned.
When she opened her eyes the pupils were rimmed yellow, like a demon.
“Let me go! Let me go!” Bogdan bellowed.
Now the whole tavern was watching them. The darkness of the tavern made it difficult to see what exactly was happening. They’d only seen Sergiu fall to the floor but didn’t see the blood spilling from his neck, otherwise they would have panicked and ran earlier.
“You can’t leave. You’re the main course.” The woman said.
“What are you?” Bogdan whimpered, as he flooded his pants in fear.
The woman didn’t answer. She just grinned. As Bogdan watched her incisors elongated to sharp points. Her jaw opened impossibly wide, like a snake. She pulled him down towards her and plunged her teeth into his neck.
She closed her eyes in ecstasy, moaning as she drank his hot, rich blood and the heat of his body became hers. She drained him in seconds and let his pale corpse collapse to the floor. Now the other patrons were on their feet, running towards the door and away from the evil that had launched itself out of the corner and was busy latching itself on to every warm body in the place.
But it was far too late for escape.
A chaotic vampire mistress flees her lord by swapping bodies with a blacksmith's apprentice, leaving him in her sexy undead body in Dark Lord Lord's Mistress 1, available on Body Swap Stories, Smashwords or Amazon.
https://bodyswapfiction.com/enter/?p=12672
