Module:RPG/Vampire Ball.json

[   {        "posts": [ {               "content": " Vampires, mansions, nobility, beauty... such common stereotypes. Yet in reality, this stereotype only applies (consistently) to one specific vampire clan: Clan Salta. Beautiful, noble, proud and pretentious, made unique from other vampires by having a distaste for necromancy, preferring to surround themselves with either mortals or fellow vampires. Yet, they are also among the weaker clans when it comes to raw strength, forcing them to rely on freelancers and mercenaries. They gained their disproportionate political influence and wealth via clever deployment of freelancers like Stephanus, who was recently invited to one of their celebrations at a mansion, for &apos;his services&apos;.  How did this mansion look like? As one can expect - members of Clan Salta cling to their mortal tastes and fetishes, so they build mansions and palaces in the mortal style, adorned with gold-laced white walls; red, blue and Tyrian purple velvet courtains and carpets. Every guest was expected to show up in a gold-laced silk robe, while bodyguards were expected to pay extra attention to having their armour polished. If there is one clan that really loves show-offs, it is Clan Salta. Music was played by trafficked mortal musicians, who were brought into Keldorn with this purpose. Dinner was served on porcelain plates imported from the Oriental Sh&#xE1;r Empire... and what was for dinner anyway? Mortal food, of course, served with a mixture of wine and blood. Vampires need to drink blood to re-awaken their mortal senses, as well as the ability to even make love and breed. But what kind of mortal food? Well, of course, roasted porkchop with almond cream and roasted potatoes! But, the almond cream wasn&apos;t white: it was pink, due to the added human blood. Stephanus was amongst the guests, dressed in black, but with the expected shiny lacing on his robe, still carrying his sword, feeling a bit uncomfortable without his armour, and awkward amongst all these aristocratic-looking figures, looking for someone lower-class to socialize with - someone more of his class... Perhaps a dhampir? In spite of their fascination with everything mortal and human - to the point of almost pretending to be mortals - Clan Salta does not look kindly upon hybrids. They are proud of their pure blood - preferring to breed pure-blooded vampires over embracing mortals - and their fascination with everything worldly is only surpassed by their religious devotion to hierarchies, ranks and pretentious ideas of &apos;nobility&apos;: thus the obession with bloodlines and &apos;pure blood&apos;. &quot;I wonder if there is anyone of my class around here...&quot; Stephanus remarked to himself silently. \n",               "date": "2020-05-30T15:57:46.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590847066,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  Ilse was not a hard one to miss, being isolated by all but the occasional sole visitor. She would smile softly to them as they &apos;graced&apos; her with their present, doing her best to remain curt toward those that so outwardly viewed her with disdain. She carried a saddle-bag below her dark cloak, not hiding the few possessions she had kept with her. Being &apos;of the blood&apos;, or at least half of it, for her protracted life she had managed to accumulate a modest sum of wealth. She could easily pass for one of the wealthier burgers in the city. Yet, the fact she was here teased at something a little more than merely being affluent. Those that dignified her with a little company did so quietly for the most part. What they were asking of her, or communicating with her, was likely sombre and serious, given the entire lack of any humorous response marking those porcelain cheeks. Her expression was almost entirely dead-pan, though her eyes spoke of something more. Perhaps merely anxiety, perhaps a bout of melancholy. When she didn&apos;t busy herself with the company of whoever wanted her attention, other vices took her. Her hand was almost constantly clutching a half-full glass of deep, red liquid. Whether she was sating her desire for blood, or her desire for the sweet taste of local wines was not clear from such a distance as he would observe her from, but she seemed at least contented with satisfying that particular craving.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:06:01.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590847561,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  was not one to easily notice people, but he did in fact notice that he was not alone in being slightly out of place in this event. Taking notice of the fair beauty, he gradually danced his way towards her proximity, drinkink wine and blood, occasionally looking around, offering dance to some of the nobles ladies - only to be rejected by them for not being of the clan - until he found his way to the general area inhabited by Ilse. If she hadn&apos;t noticed him before, his sudden appearence might come off as spooky: a long-haired man with black hair - most certainly dyed jet black, and not natural - and red eyes, pale skin, yet somewhat of a muscular statue concealed by the robe he was wearing, suddenly open his mouth to reveal his deep, bassy voice that somehow did not match his young-looking face, leading others to expect a higher tone of voice. &quot;I see I might not be the only one who feels a little... vulgar among all these noblings and kinglings, am I not?&quot; he addressed the humorous question directly at Ilse. He wasn&apos;t sure what to expect: from her clothes, she did not look any wealthier than him, possibly even slightly poorer - however, she was also part of this clan, at least half the way. For someone not of this clan, Stephanus had managed to accumulate quite the wealth, having his own little fort - albeit with rather rustic interiors that clearly fail to measure up to this mansion - and he tried to emulate the Salta lifestyle, despite not being of this clan. It clearly did not work, as he still felt rustic, felt that the party was pretentious, and instead of a completely clean-shaven and smooth face, his was one with quite the morning shadow and the rough features. His face was that of a cutthroat, one who acquired his wealth through bloodshed, through doing the dirty work for those who were too squeamish to do it themselves: like Clan Salta. Nevertheless, he took a good look at Ilse, already finding her form an inviting one. Perhaps they might stove away onto one of those bedchambers below part of the mansion? Who knows. He reminds himself not to fantasize too much before he even gets to hear her voice.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:15:48.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590848148,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;You may not be, though perhaps it is for the best we don&apos;t talk so openly of our disapproval, lest we raise the ire of the lord or lady of the manor.&quot; She returned to him, her tone as sombre as one may have expected from observing her from such a distance. She raised her head from her glass to smile to him, however briefly. It was a brief mark of courtesy, before she let her eyes roam across his form, taking it in. He stood looming over half a foot taller than her, forcing her neck to crane upward to look to his eyes, before she took a half-step backward to try and gain some more comfort. Her eyes only briefly glanced to the opulence that surrounded her. It was something she had become almost entirely desensitised to in her seven decades on the outskirts of the clan&apos;s society. That time had allowed her to only grow cynical to the clan&apos;s desperate attempts to chase the latest hints of luxury, to live an outwardly lavish and decadent lifestyle at the expense of their treasuries. At least whatever she was drinking was enough to rise her mood above the disappointment she felt toward the clan&apos;s structure. She swilled off her drink and set it aside, before flicking her tongue across her lips. Perhaps a little impolite, but it would be more so to waste what she had been given. She gently reached out that hand toward him, now that it was finally free. Her smile re-emerged, as she held it in the space between them. &quot;Oh, where are my manners. I&apos;m Ilse Seidel.&quot;\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:25:15.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590848715,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  just laughed at her comment about disapproval not being approved of - after all, what do the decadent Salta know about humour? They were obsessed with chasing after mortal luxuries, yet at the same time forgot about the most important experience to mortals: fun and humour. For the supposedly &apos;most human&apos; clan of all, they were very rigid. Even if Ilse herself was not as rigid as them, he did see that she was attempting to be. Oh, the pressure of belonging to a clan like this. Despite having been part of the living dead for over a century, he still did not understood the need for clans. Unlike Ilse, he did not need another reminder that they were surrounded by nothing but decadence and vanity - as an outside observer, he has known about this for a while, and while he too was somewhat critical of it, he did not feel any need to grow cynical over it: his attitude was one of enjoying the good things until they last, and worrying about everything else later. He figured - he will serve the clan as their mercenary until he sees it fit, and shall abandon ship once a more powerful clan comes along to wrestle their undeserved crown out of their hands. How did such a spineless and manipulative, decadent clan come to be the dominant force? Stephanus still does not understand. But what he did understand however, was that it is impolite not to introduce himself, especially when a lady is introducing herself. So he kissed her hand as she was offering it, and said. &quot;Name&apos;s Steph... anus. Stephanus Tavilrond. But you can call me just Steph. I&apos;m the owner of Castle Siltread, and a Knight of Death.&quot; - and that he was. He was a Death Knight - or Black Knight, or Fallen Knight. He was once a human knight, who hunted vampires in Etrand. His feat made him feared - until he became one himself, embraced as a vampire, becoming the very thing he swore to destroy, hunting the very same knights he once considered sword-brethren. But that was over a century ago. He has lived in Keldorn for over half a century, where his reputation in Etrand was considered irrelevant, forcing him to climb up by his own boostraps and re-build his reputation as a ruthless mercenary all over again. Yet, it all paid off, with him now being owner of a fort, and being invited to events such as this. &quot;Say, beautiful Ilse... Would thou care for a dance?&quot; he asked from her, winking.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:36:33.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590849393,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;A dance? Perchance do you sincerely mean we sway in one-another&apos;s arms? Your words seem true, yet your action spoke differently.&quot; She returned, her head cocking for a moment at the teasing wink she received. She wouldn&apos;t draw away however, neither would she look to him in disdain nor rejection. Instead, a look of curiosity formed across her face. She would even go so far as to close in a little more toward him. Her tone softened further, as she briefly glanced across to the crowds that filled the manor&apos;s halls. &quot;I am certainly not opposed to dancing, though if I speak honestly the music has grown stale, the wine served of a vintage so antique and revered it has turned stale, and the general company of the evening filled with pomp and vanity. I would not be opposed to at-least getting some air, if not retiring for the evening entirely.&quot; She lowered her hand for it to rest atop that leather bag she kept on her hip.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:46:16.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590849976,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  wasn&apos;t sure what to say - yes. Ilse read his mind. He did not really want to dance: he wanted something more - somethnig more private. Something like retiring in the bedchamber for &apos;a few moments&apos;, and only engaging later with perverted smiles on their faces - if at all. Vampires don&apos;t exactly share the mortal prudishness when it comes to sexuality - Clan Salta in fact revels in the carnal pleasures. However, those of Clan Salta are also very picky when it comes to deciding who do they bestow the nectar that is lovemaking with one from their clan - even within their clan, there are standards and expectations. But do they apply to the dhampir that is Ilse? Who knows. &quot;I see you have inherited your progenitor&apos;s powers of charm, milady. For you have charmed me well enough, to make me reveal so much to let you read my mind.&quot; he laughed. If her hand was free, he decided to take it. &quot;Well then... why don&apos;t we find somewhere where the music shall not penetrate our ears... and discuss these matters more privately? No need for the fancy pomp, just the shadows and our voices.&quot; he asked her as seductively as a rough-faced mercenary is capable of, which is to say: not much. But he was a rather persistent one, and even now, he was speaking more like a poet than a soldier: it was a bad habit he acquired from his fellow vampires.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T16:54:35.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590850475,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;Charmed you? My good sir, there was scant an attempt on my part. Your desires were just transparent. Not that my comment is strictly an objection.&quot; She couldn&apos;t help but allow a giggle of amusement to escape her. She drew back a little, allowing her the space to briefly pat herself down, just to ensure she wouldn&apos;t be leaving any of her belongings behind. She wore a smile more prominently on her face now, however. One that wouldn&apos;t quickly fade for the sake of being polite. Her vision only briefly turned to the rest of the room, as though in an effort to ensure that no one else vied for her attention. Then, she gently grasped his wrist, and tugged tenderly as though to encourage him to follow her. She lead him away from the busy dance-hall that was the centrepiece of the celebration at hand, to instead draw him toward the lavish gardens. Then she allowed herself to turn to him more directly. The look on her face turned form simply enjoying the company to a touch more sly. She stood before him once more, taking a deep breath of the less-stuffy air, before finally speaking. &quot;Now, with all but the faintest clash of the cymbal a distant memory, perhaps we can... discuss business, so to speak. Perhaps even depart to either of our residences?&quot;\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T17:00:02.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590850802,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  replied not to the comment about her having done no efforts to charm him - only thoughts inside his head. ~ To think that I have been amongst the living dead for over a century, yet not to hide my intentions from the likes of her. If it wasn&apos;t for her clan, I would have forgotten what being a human is like a long time ago. ~ he thought to himself, as he decided to follow her with a rather obvious smirk on his face: the smile of someone who has accomplished what he desired. The smile of getting what he wanted. The smile of success. That was his facial expression. However, the gardens? He did not expect the gardens to be the destination of their brief journey, but he welcomed it. He never had much of a taste for flowers - neither as a mortal, not as a vampire. Yet there was something oddly charming about the gardens. Or maybe it was just Ilse being the charming one. &quot;That we can, my dear. None shall accompany us, but our voices, the silhouettes and the crickets.&quot; and then he copied her expression. &quot;Now, for the matter of business. I&apos;m not of your clan, so I am used to speaking straight. So, excuse my tongue for being too blunt, but I would greatly appreciate your company at my castle, if you know what I mean.&quot; Oh, he knows what he means. He means he wants to spend time in private with her - but between four walls. Doing it in the garden would be... actually, he wouldn&apos;t be opposed to it either. No one would even notice it, as everybody is too busy partying inside. &quot;But I would appreciate your company right here as well. Or at your residence, wherever it may be.&quot; he smirekd at her, taking his hand onto her hip.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T17:10:23.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590851423,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;I&apos;m sure your place would be perfectly suited, if that is your desire. I am far from particular about setting for such an intimate meeting, so long as it is not outright filthy.&quot; She returned, managing only to smile a little wider. She began to pace away once more, leading him briefly from their little refuge of the gardens, and toward the lavish little pathway that dotted the route toward the manor proper. They would have to leave the grounds to get anywhere, after all. Not that she particularly wanted to waste that time spent pacing, either. She was not overly familiar with the man, and to attempt to enjoy a moment with such a creature in silent would have been a wasted effort. Indeed, despite her consideration to actually bed him, she knew relatively little about the man, beyond his name and his station. Or, more particularly for the situation at hand, his tastes. &quot;Forgive me for being direct, though I sense that perhaps that is indeed your preference. What is it about me that draws your attention in such a way? Why do you covert me, and what intentions do you have for a flower as delicate as I?&quot;\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T17:15:58.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590851758,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  simply nodded, following her at her own pace, which wasn&apos;t too difficult to keep up with. Out of the gardens, onto the road leading towards the stables of the manor, where skeletal horses await the two. Or, at the very least, him. He was not one for wasting time - if it was up to him, they would have simply slowly slipped away onto one of the more remote closets of the palace, where the walls would have muffled out the music, and the noise of their lovemaking as well. But alas, Ilse wanted more privacy - so it was to go to his castle. Which isn&apos;t filthy, just rustic and modest - at least compared to this mansion. He knew about as little about Ilse as she knew about him. He was drawn to her, because she stood out from the crowd. Of course, he also had other considerations: like her body, her face, her hair, her eyes. All deemed very attractive by him, who had his eyes on her breasts and buttocks when her eyes weren&apos;t darted on his own. &quot;Perhaps the fact, that you are a beautiful flower, but one that lacks the aura of untouchability, my dear? Ah, who am I kidding.&quot; he laughed. &quot;You are beautiful, and your sight fills me with a different kind of hunger than the one I usually feel. Plus, I sense that you do not feel entirely at home in such pomp, do you? Perhaps you and I could make for useful allies.&quot; Ah yes, allies. While humans cement political alliances with marriages, vampires cement them with one-night stands: unless they sleep around for fun. But one does not usually sleep with the enemy. Strings are only attached, if both sides desire it, after all. And with that, they have arrived to the place, where the mares of bones shall be mounted, luckily with enough padding not to make their buttocks sore. For the journey is not a terribly short one.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T17:26:15.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590852375,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;Perhaps so, though you need not skirt around the issue. I have come to prefer my company to be upfront. Saltans seldom know how to truly put their words to use. They may talk for hours as any mortal may, yet often manage to say even less of substance. An eternity to roam the land has only granted them all the time in the world to waste. And they assume I feel the same as they.&quot; She returned. She attempted to make her comment seem humorous, though it was clear her statement was for more than comedic effect. Perhaps now they were out of immediate ear shot she became all too eager to outwardly frame her disdain. &quot;Allies, however, is something that takes time to cement. If one does not treat me with contempt I&apos;ll generally permit anyone to enter my halls, and commune with me. I seldom allow them to take that for granted.&quot; She would mount the other horse, and trailed him back to his distant fortress. She proved at least to be an adept rider, able to hold her own easily in the stirrups as they made their way across the lands, toward that dated castle. She climbed down as soon as the creature came to the close, and gave it&apos;s neck a little pat for it&apos;s faithful service, before making her way into the refuge proper.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T17:34:37.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590852877,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  appreciated her criticism of her own clan - she was saying pretty much what he had in mind about them. The members of Clan Salta are incapable of saying what they mean. If they aren&apos;t straight-up lying, they hide behind euphemisms and fancy poetry, and much to his own regret, Stephanus felt that they were partially infecting him with it too. He has gotten used to their doublespeak, and Ilse&apos;s clear words were like a breathe of fresh air into the staleness of Salta proses and lyres. &quot;The ability to speak cleanly and honestly is sadly one horribly underappreciated in the world of the living dead. Yet, a sharp tongue can do far more damage than even the sharpest sword. Perhaps the Salta have misinterpreted the popular saying, and don&apos;t really know what a sharp tongue means.&quot; he added. Cowardly hiding behind euphemisms and padding a one-word sentence into four-line poetry was not the same as having a sharp tongue - in fact, it was quite the opposite. At least in Stephanus&apos;s opinion. No doubt in Ilse&apos;s too. &quot;Who would treat such a beautiful flower with content, sweet thing?&quot; he laughed, yet the answer to that question was clear. He did not answer his own question, but it was pretty clear that it was a rhetorical question, meaning to accentuate his opinion of her beauty. He shall enjoy entering her halls and communing with her. But now, he had to enter a different hall: one that would involve a long horse ride and lead into a black castle. His castle. For a vampire, it is not expected to take more than perhaps half an hour: but possibly days for a human.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:01:01.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590854461,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;My entire presence on this earth, good sir, is considered little more than an abomination and most treat me as though I am one. If I am fortunate, contempt is all I will be treat with, rather than open hostility. Most are reluctant to dealing with me, even when their secrecy is guaranteed.&quot; She returned, even if his question was rhetorical. However, her own patience for her words, drawn out as though it were in her blood even in spite of her own efforts, clearly drew thin. She encouraged her steed to pick up its pace, if for no other reason than so the pair could maintain a few moments of actual privacy, particularly if they wished to consort as she had been lead on to believe.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:06:47.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590854807,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  did not expect to hear a story like that, but he did. Clearly, most people in this country do not think with their genitalia: instead of seeing a beautiful woman to lust after, they either saw an abominable vampire to hunt down, or an abominable half-breed to bully. Or a weakling to bully. Stephanus did not see it that way - but not because he was good or anything. No, no, no. He was fairly ruthless and pragmatic, and pragmatic was the key word here: he shall take any allies he can find, and he shall lay any lays that can be laid. He is a man who does not look a gift horse in the mouth - or a beautiful vampiress in the bloodline. As they had arrived to the stables of his castle, he &apos;parked&apos; the skeletal horse, took Ilse&apos;s hand - if she allowed it - and begin leading her inside his own little castle, into his own bedchamber. Very rustic and old-looking, but not filthy. Some parts looked more like an abandoned dungeon than someone&apos;s home, with dust and cobwebs, there was still no blood, no vomit, no excrement, no smell of any kind. If there was any smell, it was the smell of old books. &quot;Such as it is, this is my humble abode. My bedchamber is as dark as it needs be to obscure the cruelty of the sun while slumber is taken.&quot; His bedchamber was reminiscent of a poorer aristocrat&apos;s one, with a double-bed, a wardrobe, a coffin, a writing table, a bookshelf, and not much else. The walls were made out of stone bricks. No tapestries of any kind adorned them.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:15:06.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590855306,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;Ah, the blight of the sun. Perhaps the one part of my condition I consider genuinely advantageous.&quot; She returned, a small giggle of amusement beginning to form on her. She had allowed him to take her hand, with their mutual intent so obviously displayed it seemed a peculiar line to draw. She would motion away from him, both to take a look about his chambers a little more obviously, and to mull about ideas in her head. She found the place to be strangely comforting in it&apos;s own right, though certainly old-fashioned even by her own rustic standards. Hardly a mood killer though, especially with the general overt cleanliness of the place. She turned to him when she was satisfied with both her overall survey of the area, and the ample opportunity she presented for him to admire her form. She approached slowly, a slight sway in her hips. &quot;Now... if you forgive me being so blatant my lord, I am particularly accustomed to someone telling me what they wish of me. Sexual autonomy is something that can make me feel a mite uncomfortable. I hope you don&apos;t protest to taking the lead.&quot;\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:23:21.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590855801,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  had to briefly laugh at her assertion that he would have trouble being the dominate one. &quot;Why would it? Real men don&apos;t usually submit.&quot; except when they do - when they have to seduce a queen. But she was no queen, and they have already established, that something is going to happen. With that, he decided to be blunt and blatant, beginning by removing his robe to reveal his upper body: muscular, as expected, but not without scars. The vampire body heals its own wounds, so he must have acquired those scars as a mortal. &quot;Now, let me gaze upon thy supple flesh, delicate flower.&quot; he said quite blatantly, which was his way of saying: get undressed and reveal your breasts. Or other parts of the body. But breasts are the most welcome part. He wasn&apos;t one to waste time, but they had plenty of time to waste: and unlike humans, who get impatient all the time, vampires knew that foreplay was key to a good time, and that pleasures of the flesh are best enjoyed when stretched out for a long time.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:30:26.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590856226,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  &quot;Of course, master.&quot; She returned to his command, a sultry little tone particularly punctuating that last comment. She smiled softly to him, as her fingers dipped to the broach that held her cloak about her throat. She untied it, allowing that garment to pool in the floor about her ankles, soon dropping that leather satchel around it. Her fingers then trailed down to pick at the knot of her corset, which she very swiftly unpicked. She was clearly more than a little adept at stripping herself, however. Soon, she stood before him in nothing, save for delicate white lace cladding those marble thighs, and a pair of panties to match those stockings, of similar material. She would then close in to him, her footsteps dainty and faint against his chamber floor. Her fingers would gently brush against his torso, as a coy smile grew on her lips.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:35:02.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590856502,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  wasn&apos;t expecting her to immediately strip down to near nakedness, but it was a welcome surprise. As her fingers began to touch his torso, so did his lips touch her left nipple, licking without any reservations, while his hand begin cupping her right breast. His rough hand had no issues touching the soft skin on her chest and enjoying its tender touch. This was followed by his lips migrating upwards to her neck to give it a kiss: he may have been a vampire, he was not going to diablerize her or commit amaranth feeding - he would merely kiss her neck, and not bite. After all, she was a vampire, like him. After that, his lips would finally go up to hers, giving her not a simple lips-kiss, but a passionate tongue-kiss immediately one hand on her cheek, the other on her left breast. Little was left to the imagination, when it came to her body, but some foreplay was still a requirement.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:39:53.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590856793,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  Her fingers would tense against his chest, as his lips began to journey across her form. A little gasp escaped her maw, as his fingers brushed across her cool skin. Not quite as cold as her partner&apos;s for the evening, but not far from the overall temperature of the room. Her delicate form all on display to him, save for perhaps the real prise, she couldn&apos;t help the faintest of pink beginning to emerge on her cheeks. She would return the kiss to the lips, when they finally connected. Her tongue eased from her lips, to eagerly dance with his own. She raised to her toes for his convenience, and to make that considerable rear all the perkier. She had to look her best for the evening, after all.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:43:35.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590857015,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  took the opportunity -  the kiss on the lips - to give a good tap to her buttocks, some rubbing along, before his hand went a bit below, with the intent of simply packing her up, grabbing her, and carrying her bridal-style. Carrying her where? To his bed, of course! Where else? Of course, his bed was perhaps the most lordly part of his room: it is comfortable, it is large, it has up to date pillows and blankets, a stark contrast with the rusticness of the rest of the building - or even the room itself. As he took her to his bed, his feet slipped out of the boots and socks, the pants and loincloth slided down, and he got himself naked. How? Perhaps with magic. When he set her down onto his bed, he made sure the connection between their lips did not cease, as he positioned himself right above her, like a predator above its prey.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:49:14.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590857354,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She couldn&apos;t help but squeal softly as he gave that plump little rear a spank. The flesh jiggled with all the vigour of a girl fully animated. She gently bit her lip for the moment following, at least until she was drawn to lay in his arms. She wouldn&apos;t struggle as she was drawn over to his bed, and had little need to strip more of his form, save for his request. She didn&apos;t resist either, as his lips set to her own once more, and he loomed overhead. She waited, be it for more teasing, or another order from her master for the evening. Her body craved attention, but she knew that the sweetest rewards are ones that you worked for, and are only granted to those most deserving.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:54:14.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590857654,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  felt no need to do what most people would do just yet - after all, they had all the time in the world. They are patient vampires, not impatient mortals. They do not squander away the perfect opportunity to have a good time - they savour the flavours of what they are having, without any need to quickly jump onto the dessert. As such, he continued to passionately suck on her tongue, while his hand rubbed her torso and her chest, with the other hand helping him suspend himself above her. Hand kept travelling along gently, almost teasing and tickling her belly and her breasts, until he eventually gradually broke the kiss, and begin to kiss her breasts once again, with his hand focusing on her belly.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T18:59:04.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590857944,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She would quietly lose herself to the passionate exploration of her form. Her eyes would lid, while her tongue danced with his, rocking between her own maw and his. Her fingers trailed the delicate contours of his muscles, the faintest of nails scraping against his form. Her bust proved sensitive to his touches, small tremors racing through her form. His lips proved enough to draw the faintest of pants to her lips. Her back arched slightly, as he continued to tease her body. Her thighs would slowly drift apart, as he continued to loom over her.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:07:54.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590858474,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  was too lost in his action-plan of teasing her body to respond to her own teases on him. Rubs and tickles on her belly, kisses and sucking on her breasts, where would it go from here? Well, it would go to teasing other parts of her body, parts closer to the ultimate reward - teasing around her hips, teasing around her legs - especially between her legs - using his fingers to gently poke and rub around. Not in the middle though, but along the contours of her panties, the borders between cloth and flesh. It was part of the whole experience of teasing slowly as part of a foreplay.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:13:05.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590858785,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She eventually drew her fingers away, if for no other reason than to allow him easier access to her own form. She relished in the those taunting little fingertips that brushed ever so close to her little honeypot. She almost enjoyed this more than any kind of sincere attention. Sometimes, a good night was being denied that most tender of pleasure, under the promise of more. Something told her, however, that he would be craving more than just her maw, and the sensations of her flesh below his fingertips, however.\n",                "date": "2020-05-30T19:19:55.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590859195,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  was definitely craving more than this, but he knew, that more would have to come time by time.... or did it? He eventually decided to start peeling away the last remnants of fabric attached to her most treasurable form, so that he may gain access to the cake of the night. But even as he did this, he did not give her the main course for this night. Not yet. There was still quite a bit of teasing to be done around her prize, and it would be only after minutes of teasing around her private areas that he&apos;d begin to position himself above her in a manner that would allow for the battering ram to do its work. He definitely took his time.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:23:42.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590859422,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She would be like putty in his hands, allowing him to position her form how he pleased in order to assume he was satisfied. She lived to serve in situations like these, and would be all too eager to allow him to manipulate her form as he pleased. Deep sighs escaped her lips as his fingers finally brushed across her nectar-coated honeypot. She was quick to coat his digits with a thin layer of her girly honey. Her thighs only parted further as he finally delved between those creamy thighs. &quot;A-a master that wants to use me n-normally for once?&quot; She cooed to him, with their lips finally parted. A tender pant rested on her lips, though mostly for show. She enjoyed rhiling her partners up, after all.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:30:46.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590859846,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  simply nodded - yes, he would use her normally this time. He positioned himself above her, only to push into her straight. For the first time through their newly established acquintance, the ram of seeds entering her honeypot like a battering ram pushes against the gates of a castle, like how a snake glides into a cave. This was followed by a moan on his part, then by a brief pullback, and then a pushback. He had done this many times before, so he knew all the motions: it would be downright robotic. Out and in, pull and push, all at the apropriate rhytm to make both parties feel like something was happening - which would be feeling her warmth and insides, for her feeling his battering penetration. Conquests like this were perhaps the best part of unlife.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:34:57.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590860097,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She gently groan out herself, as she felt his length pierce her tender, fleshy walls. His cock was quickly coated in a thin layer of her honey, making it ever so easy for him to push his way into her tender halls. She lay on the sheets below him, her arms on his shoulders for security. Her thighs rose to gently cling about his waist, allowing her to arch her back up. His length would tunnel deep within her, her walls gently twitching against his length. Her fingers curled into his shoulder, as he began to rock back and forth. Her eyes slowly fluttered to a lid.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:40:58.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590860458,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  had gained the ultimate prize of the day - well, almost. He was yet to &apos;tame&apos; it. And he was just in the process of doing that, robotically leaving and entering as her juices made the job so much easier to do. There was no resistance, no friction - there was only squish and ram. If someone were to write a book about the act, it may not be the most exciting read, for the ones actually enacting it, it felt great - at least, to him, it felt amazing to be claiming her hole for himself, not caring one bit about the potential implicatons of what might happen if he is not careful enough and gets too carried away. Vampires do not sweat, but if they did, he&apos;d be sweating.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:44:31.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590860671,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She would be completely unconcerned with future prospects too, entirely too focused on the length that stirred the furthest depths of her form. Her thighs clung tighter about his waist, as she tried to stabilise herself against his deep, rhythmic thrusting. She began to allow moans to escape form her lips, as the act continued. Her walls tightened about his length. Her maw remained parted. Her tender bust jiggled with every thrust. Trickles of her nectar marked her thigh, and eased further down to pool under her plump little rump, darkening the sheets he took her over.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:50:06.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590861006,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  had little else to do, other than keep up what he was doing - preferably at a faster pace - until the big moment would come. But the big moment would not come until at least ten minutes later. For a man, being able to last log in bed may be viewed as a good thing - as women climax later than men - it was questionable how positive it was, if that longer-lasting time meant several more minutes of robotically repeating the same motion over and over again, until he felt like something was about to happen. It was made slightly more interesting by the fact, that she was getting tightened and unwilling to let go, the fact that she was wetting more juicy around, the fact that their moans would get louder and louder as time kept going, but overall, not much would happen until several minutes later, when Stephanus finally started feeling like something was about to happen. He was too carried away in all that pleasure to truly care about what might happen if he just lets himself go and lets himself shoot his sends into her. He certainly would not stop without her intervention.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T19:55:51.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590861351,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            },            {                "content": "Ilse Seidel  She was too subservient to raise her tone at her master for the evening, even if she believed there were far better uses for his seed. Indeed, any number of humiliating or degrading acts he could have made her perform for, or with, such a luscious bounty of seed were far more likely to rile her up than looming over her, and slowly sawing back and forth. Being spread about his length was certainly a pleasant way to end the evening, but after seven decades to be taken entirely in missionary only left her yearning for something more exotic. After all, one can quickly be desensitised to even the finest pleasure, if it was what they experienced most throughout their eternity.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T20:04:00.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590861840,                "user": "Ilse Seidel"            },            {                "content": "Dark Stephanus  thus let himself go into her, but he was not about to give her anything more exotic - at least, not yet. He came into her with no qualms about doing it at all, but was not going to perform more exotic arts of lovemaking on her. He intentionally decided to leave her yearning for more, so that the two of them may have more opportunities and more demands to fill up. He gave her one more kiss after he filled her up, giving some rubbing to her head. This is what he intended to give her for the day.\n",               "date": "2020-05-30T20:08:50.000+02:00",                "hun": false,                "streamlinedDate": true,                "unixTimestamp": 1590862130,                "user": "Dark Stephanus"            }        ],        "sectionName": "Keldorn"    } ]