Filthy is powered by Vocal creators. You support Jennifer Cypert by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Filthy is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Vincent

Awakening

The bedside clock says Saturday, August 16, 8:00 AM. Saturday! How the hell is it Saturday?! I realize where I am. The massive bed, naked... I'm still at Vincent's penthouse! I look for my clothes in the pile only to realize that the pile is gone. The door opens. It's Vincent, hot, debonair, dawned in black silk pajama pants and nothing else. All I want to do is get back in bed with him. I shake the thought out of my head.

"Hello, Jocelyn. I trust you've slept well." Vincent walks over and touches my face, kissing me full on the mouth. I can't resist kissing him back. We can't keep our hands off of each other. I pull his pants down, his cock pressing into my navel again. He effortlessly picks me up so that I am straddling him, supported by his strong arms. I feel the pressure of his hard flesh at my chamber-opening when I remember what it was I was going to ask.

"Vincent, wait. Put me down, please. We need to talk," I interrupt. He sits me down on his dick. I have to fight the urge to ride it. "Vincent..." Mr. funny man gives me an innocent look then puts me down. I take his hand, leading him to the bed this time. "What is going on? I've been asleep since Thursday night. I feel different—amazing, but different. What did you do to me?" I ask, getting frantic with each question. My mind is spinning, and my heart is beating like it's going to fly out of my chest. I have a hunger boiling within me as if I have never eaten. I can't tell if it's from the general lack of nourishment or if it's something else.

Vincent is staring at me, a small grin on his face, waiting for me to finish my tirade of questions. He lays there on his side, relaxed, head resting in his hand. I want to lay beside him, be under him, naked, but I refrain from doing so. I just breathe, giving him the cue that I'm done talking.

"I chose you to be like me," he started. "I didn't quite expect to fall in love with you so quickly, but I did. Every day, I just couldn't get enough of being around you, and I hope that you had felt the same way around me. So, I took a chance. I thought for certain that you didn't feel anything for me. I'm so glad that I was wrong."

"What do you mean by, 'I chose you to be like me,'" I exclaimed, confused.

"Jocelyn, I have made you a vampire. You can be with me for all eternity. See the world. Live amongst the mouth breathers. Just feed, and that will all be yours. Or, you can choose to be mortal and die a normal, painfully slow death. Oh, and the presentation: I went ahead and showed it. I told Rose that you were sick and will return to work on Monday. So that just about sums it up," he said, exhaling, smiling. He spoke to me as if he were talking about the weather or other normal shit like putting on pants. It was so unreal, yet there I was, sitting on his bed, able to chose my fate.

"I'm really not sure what to say. I have so many questions, but I am starving. Can we talk about it over breakfast? Hmm. Breakfast? Did I see you eat real food?" I asked feeling faint.

"I will answer all of them. Your first meal will have to be blood if eternal life is what you want. And, yes, you did see me eat the sushi on Thursday. After you fell asleep, I fed on blood. I can have my cake and eat it too, Jocelyn. That's the beauty of it," Vincent answered, as if he were talking about watering his garden.

Now Reading
Vincent
Read Next
Guitar Strings