Red

by Patchwork-Inkblot

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Rarity, Romance, Sex, Dark, Human
Length: 3657

Red, the color of her lipstick, their blood, and his collar. Red is a love story

Red is the color of her lipstick. Red is the color of blood. Red is the color of wine. Red is the color of the marks on his body. Red is the color of their blood. Red is the color of his collar. Red is the color of her whip.
Red is not the safe word.
Red is a love story.

Published 2013-06-13 20:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-13 20:00:01 UTC

Thrall

Red liquid swirled in the glass, almost appearing to be floating in the air above a set of slender fingers. The glass tipped and her lips greedily sucked the liquid down, effectively draining the glass. Her bottom lip, coated in crimson lipstick and droplets of red wine, protruded into a pout. She closed her eyes and leaned back into her chair, cerise cushions holding her weight against the supports of black ironwood pillars. She held her arm out, smiling at the way her pale skin looked in the candlelight of her dining room; her nails dragged across the walls of the wineglass as her slender fingers pushed them along.

Rarity smiled, knowing he wouldn't move until she made her demand.

"More."

The chair across from her scraped against the floor as he leaned forward and she smiled, revealing her porcelain white teeth- revealing her fangs. She opened her eyes and watched as he poured the contents of the dusty bottle into her glass. The liquid cascaded and swirled, taking the form of its container; not once did the bottle shiver, not once was there a spill, not once did he falter.

What a good thrall.

He leaned back into his chair and smiled shyly back at her like the boy she knew he was. He swirled his glass and looked around the room, obviously waiting for the conversation to begin again. It had stopped the way it had so many times before; Rarity would drink and let herself get lost in just how good the taste that met her tongue was, her tiny moans of appreciation would cause him to clam up, turn a burning shade of crimson, and look down at his lap. He would only look up when he was confident that she'd had her fill.

"Spike", she cooed.

The boy jumped in his seat and felt his cheeks heat up again. "Yes, Ra-", she held up an imposing finger and shot a glare from behind it. Spike involuntarily swallowed, recognizing his mistake. "I- I mean, yes, mistress?"

Rarity chuckled and leaned back into her seat, sipping demurely at her drink. She allowed herself to relax, brushing her left hand over the slender black dress she wore; the way it hugged her form was perfect, not a single curve went out of sight. There wasn't a single need for straps or zippers on her creation as the velvet simply clung to her body like a second skin, every stitch and seam set exactly to the entirety of her form. The white of her skin and the cherry red of her nails floated across the charcoal surface, enchanting her creative spirit and filling her with pride.

She flicked her eyes back at Spike, raking her focus all over his body. The disorganized rat's nest of green hair that usually rested atop his head had been slicked back, revealing his slightly tanned face; the blush he'd held all night still clung to his cheeks, almost hiding the shadows that rested beneath his green, green eyes. His lithe form was housed by a alabaster dress shirt covered with a black vest, the open collar revealing his supple, young neck.

Supple, young neck with a myriad of veins pumping his youthful blood through his perfect, little body.

"Drink your blood, dear."

"But-"

As always, he found his protests interrupted; this time by the sound of something sharp dragging against fabric. A glance at the table revealed it to be Rarity's nails being dragged across the tablecloth; another glare in his direction aided in the expression of his mistress's dissatisfaction. She let out a quick huff and the grin soon faded into a gentle smile.

Rarity leaned forward, knowing her little thrall could see a fair amount of her cleavage from the angle, and held out her glass.

"Watch", she said, and tipped the glass to her lips. She slid the edge along the corners of her mouth before giving the rim a quick kiss, savoring the drops that already rolled to her. She sat up straight and began to slowly suck the liquid down, every swallow making her throat dance for him. Soon enough the glass was drained, stream of red running from the corner of her mouth to her chin, like blood oozing from a wound, or a victim; she brought her fingertip to the base of her neck and dragged it upwards, smearing any of the delicacy she could towards her mouth. The gasp she heard when she brought her finger into her mouth was enough to tell her the ploy had worked perfectly. She sucked on her knuckle and brought her finger out with an audible pop.

Rarity opened her eyes and gazed at Spike.

"Drink."

He lifted his shaking hand and stared at the trembling liquid, already apprehensive to the experience that loomed before him once more. As per his mistress's orders he brought the glass to his lips and took a cursory sip, grimacing at the bittersweet taste that somehow dried his mouth out. For the sake of being a gentleman, he smiled across the table at Rarity.

She leaned forward once more, resting her chin in her left palm as her right toyed with the empty wine glass. "Do you like it?"

"Well, you told me it was acquired taste."

"So acquire it then", Rarity sighed. "I want my thrall to enjoy it as much as I do."

Spike grimaced and took another sip, tilting his head back as if to make the taste less potent through gravity; all failed, however, when his sudden intake caused him to cough and smack his lips. He was pounding at his chest when the scraping of wood against tile caught his attention.

Rarity had stepped out of her chair and had begun to drag it along with her as she approached Spike, swaying a bit with each step; the legs of the chair scraped loudly against the floor for the entirety of the short journey. She plopped back into her chair once they were sitting adjacent to one another and began to pour another glass, not once breaking eye contact with her thrall.

She filled the glass and held it under his chin. "Drink."

Spike blushed and tried to gently press the glass away. "Rarity, uh, Mistress", he said, catching himself. "It's okay. We can still have lots of-"

"Drink", she said again, pressing the rim to his lips.

His supple, young, red lips.

"Come on, Spikey-Wikey. Drink for your mistress, it will make her so very happy", she said in a sultry voice. "If you can't enjoy my tastes, how will this night ever be perfect?"

She smiled again, confidently, knowing he would do as she told. He had to, after all, he was her thrall and her little Spikey-Wikey. For good measure she ran her tongue over her teeth, over her fangs, her calm demeanor suggesting she had no idea she was doing it.

Spike's face flushed red, the network of veins beneath it filling with hot blood. "Okay", he said, reaching a hand towards the glass which Rarity promptly smacked away. He looked at her in confusion and her smile widened.

She began to tip the glass and Spike understood.

What a good thrall.

He pursed his lips, closing his eyes as if giving a girl a kiss and the fluid met his lips.

"Open."

Spike let out a cute little cry into the glass and opened his eyes, staring at his mistress almost immediately. His blush dramatically rose in intensity as her smile broadened.

"Now swallow."

He grimaced again and took a small gulp, pulling his face away from the glass as he did so. Spike swallowed and turned to his mistress, shrinking under her stoic gaze. "Rarity."

She held up a finger and he sighed.

"Mistress", he said at length. "I just don't like it. It's too sour."

Rarity brought her palm to Spike's cheek, caressing his face. She smiled at him before speaking. "I suppose I'll just have to help you feed, then."

"What?" He asked shakily, his face burning in the palm of her hand.

Rarity ignored his question and took a hearty swig from the bottle, enjoying the taste that filled her mouth. She beckoned Spike forward with a single finger, grabbing his cheeks-

His cute, little cheeks.

-once he was within reach. She pulled his face to hers and pressed their lips together, holding him still as his body jolted. Her lips parted of her own will and her thrall's lips parted of her tongues' will, allowing the liquid to be passed from one mouth to the other.

Rarity pressed her tongue forward and forced Spike to swallow; which he did greedily. She had no qualms about thrusting this upon him; she knew it would work from the beginning, that and he was her thrall.

Anything she desired was his raison d'etre.

Sweet Luna she loved knowing that.

Rarity pulled back and smiled at her thrall, still held firmly in her hands; his eyes were closed and his mouth was still caught open from the kiss, not a drop of blood had escaped.

What a good thrall.

"There", Spike opened his eyes at the sound of Rarity's voice. "Does the blood taste so bad now?"

Spike lazily shook his head and let his eyes fall shut, obviously savoring the past experience. He leaned back in his seat, blushing, as did his mistress.

She looked at the glass Spike had drained and smiled. Sure he had probably only enjoyed the wine because of the kiss, but that was no reason not to celebrate. With the taste of blood and a young boy on her lips, Rarity reached for the deep green bottle that contained all a mistress of the night like herself could ever want and tipped it over the rim of the shared glass; however, a problem arose, not a drop of the blessed red came forth.

What? There were at least five when we started.

Convinced that the delicacy had somehow clung to the inside of the bottle, Rarity tipped it above her head and peered inside.

A great black nothingness peered back.

Rarity turned in her chair, throwing her free arm over its back and gazed at an arranged square of bottles identical to the one in her hand. The two glasses on the table were bone dry.

Rarity heaved a sigh and heaved the bottle behind her shoulder, the resounding crash it made as it shattered against the wall did nothing for her mood. The report did, however, call Spike back from his trance.

"Rarity, what was that?!"

That's Mistress to you!" She shouted, standing up, swooning and leaning a hand on her thrall's shoulder for support. "We're going feeding!"

The night air was cool and the stars shone with vigor that was only found on the clearest nights, perfect weather for a vampire queen and her faithful thrall.

A few children in costume were being carried by their parents, each clutching a bag of cavity inducing sweets like a vulnerable treasure; which, to children, candy is. Streamers ran between houses and couples could be seen wandering the streets; some were in costume, others were not. Carved pumpkins adorned with cubist faces guarded almost every house like brave, optimistic sentinels. Somewhere a dance hall shook with the waves of music it spread across town. People danced, played, kissed, searched for treats, played tricks, and happily lived their lives.

Spike and Rarity walked in the center of the street and everyone who passed them stared at the sword on Spike's hip.

"Mistress", he whispered, making sure to give the proper titles. "People are staring."

"Let them stare", she cooed. Rarity had coiled her arm around his hip, pulling his body towards hers as they walked. "You belong to me, after all."

"I-I meant the sword", he stammered.

"Oh", Rarity shrugged, as if that had answered the question perfectly. "How long until we can feed?" She asked, whining slightly.

"We're here, we're here", Spike replied with a sight. He pointed towards a sign that read, "Berry's Place."

"Ah!" Rarity clapped her hands together. "Perfect for feeding!"

With that, the queen led her thrall into Ponyville's local liquor store.

Spike wandered through the shelves that held bottle after bottle after bottle of alcohol, searching for Rarity's favorite red wine. The task wasn't too hard thanks to Rarity immediately making a beeline to the treasure's location.

"Be sure to buy two vials, Spike, I want one for each of us."

"Wait, I'm buying?"

Rarity stared down at Spike audaciously. "It's the duty of a thrall to perform any task necessary for his mistress's happiness."

Spike sighed and drew two bottles of Silverstein Red from the rack and approached the clerk, questioning if what he was about to do was legal or not.

Apparently it was, after a few shouts from Rarity the clerk was either convinced or simply wanted the odd pair out of her shop.

In the end, the queen got her blood.

The two were halfway back to their castle when Rarity stopped in the middle of her tracks, tossing herself onto Spike. "Carry me", she grumbled.

Spike sighed and set the bottles on the ground, remaining in his crouched position. "Come on", he said, gesturing to his back. Rarity smiled and hopped on, proud she had a thrall strong enough and willing to carry a queen half a head taller than him.

The two walked in silence for a bit, Rarity's legs curled about Spike's waist and her head on her shoulders. She nestled her head further into the crook of his neck and let her arms descend further down his chest.

He didn't mind, that made her happy.

Rarity smiled and opened her eyes to stare at her thrall's neck; it was smooth, the skin stretched tight over his muscles, tendons, and veins. Before she truly knew what she was doing she had pressed her lips against his neck. Spike took no notice to it, however, his mistress was being far too discreet.

She pressed down ever so slightly and shivered. She could feel it, his pulse; his youthful blood pumping all throughout his body.

She had to have a taste.

"Ah!" Spike let out a gasp and stopped in his tracks. He felt something warm and wet pressing against his neck. A quick turn revealed Rarity's sapphire eyes staring back at him, her lips pursed against his neck. "R-"

"Keep walking", she said and went back to kissing at Spike's neck.

Spike quivered, but obeyed; he took tentative steps down the street, panting like a dog from his mistress's ministrations.

Rarity nipped at his skin and Spike sank to his knees, moaning under his breath. She stood up and pouted down at her thrall. "We're not home yet, Spike. Why did you stop?"

"You, you bit me", he panted, looking up at her with red burning onto his cheeks.

"Yes, and?" Rarity stopped and looked down at her thrall, at her Spikey-Wikey, and smiled. "Oh", she cooed, noting how he cringed and tried to hide himself. She offered a hand and she took it, as she pulled him up her eyes quickly scanned their surroundings; no one was in sight and an alley loomed mere feet away from them. "Come with me", she said, leading Spike into the dark mouth of the alleyway.

They stopped after a turn, Rarity dropping Spike's hand as she turned to face him. His hair was already falling out of place, perfect uniformity destroyed by a few stray threads. Patches of dirt contrasted against the charcoal of his pants and the sleeves of his shirt.

He was sweating, still panting like a tired dog.

The entire ensemble had been ruined.

"Rar-"

Spike was cut off by a pair of pale hands latching onto his shoulders before forcing him to the wall in one quick thrust. Rarity pressed her body onto his, resting her knee between his legs. It was far too easy to see why he was so embarrassed, easy to feel why he was so embarrassed. Spike shivered and his mistress smiled as she drew her face towards his.

"Mistress", she whispered against his ear.

"Mistress", he panted, already writhing in her grasp. It was useless to move his arms, his legs, most of his body was being restrained by his queen's; all she would allow him to do was fervently grind his hips around.

Spike moaned and Rarity chuckled. She drew herself closer to his ear and gave the lobe a quick kiss, the faintest of whispers followed.

"Good boy."

With that she stuck her tongue out and dragged it across the curves of his ear, smiling as her thrall writhed and whimpered. Rarity pressed another kiss onto the lobe and began moving down, down, down; kissing and licking all the way until she was staring at his pristine neck. She exhaled a cloud of hot air onto his skin, her breath reeking of every drink she'd previously imbibed upon.

Spike let out a rolling moan into the alley when Rarity's tongue found its way to his neck; the hot, wet appendage dragged trails and patterns across his skin in saliva that quickly cooled in the night air. Every bit of her touch sent wave after wave of euphoria over him, clouding his mind and forcing his body to move; it was embarrassing, dirty, humiliating, and horridly intoxicating.

His entire body jolted forward when a sharp pinch emanated from his neck. Rarity had pinched a piece of his skin between her teeth and began biting. The harder she would clench her teeth, the louder her thrall would moan. Once she was satisfied with the volume she relented from biting and began to suck and lick upon the abrasion.

Rarity gave Spike's neck a quick kiss where she had been biting and pulled back, still holding Spike to the wall. There, on the left side of his neck, was a beautiful mark; deep red that got darker near the center. She could still see the dents where her teeth had been.

Her eyes trailed down Spike's body and she smiled, seeing in full view just how much her thrall enjoyed her succors. She took her right hand away from his arm and lay it, palm first, upon the tent that rose at the nexus of his legs.

Spike gasped, Rarity giggled.

"You liked that, didn't you?" She asked, dragging her palm upwards. "You liked your queen marking you." Spike let out a grunt and she continued, dragging the tips of her fingers down. "Everyone will see it, you know? They'll see it and they'll know I made it." She leaned forward and began undoing buttons she had placed herself, Spike's panting becoming more and more fervent. "You liked being bitten by your queen."

"St-stah. Sto-"

"Stop?" Rarity chirped, smiling at her panting thrall. "Why in the world would I stop?" She asked, pulling a strap of elastic away from Spike's body; the only piece of clothing on his body that wasn't of her own design. "You're enjoying it so much", she cooed, sliding her hand between the fabric and his skin. She could feel the tips of her fingernails dragging down the length of her thrall, she couldn't help but swell with pride. Rarity clenched down, letting her hand be filled, and smiled. She could feel his blood; pumping, churning, burning all for her.

She clenched and Spike cried out.

Rarity didn't need anything else for a trigger. With her prize in her hand she set back upon Spike's neck. Any time he would move she would clench harder and push him back against the wall, he had to learn his place somehow. She let her tongue dance up and down his flexing muscles, tasting the salty sweat that coated his skin. Every so often she would kiss a spot, alerting Spike to the next spot that would inevitably be bitten and marked.

Spike's hips had soon began to lightly thrust no matter what his mistress did, so she simply let him help her in her movements. Her left hand abandoned his shoulder and ripped the fabric away from his torso, exposing his smooth chest. She dug her nails in and spread her mouth open across the entirety of his neck.

"Rarity!"

She ripped her nails down his chest, knowing how deep the marks would be. For a brief moment she pulled her mouth up to say, "Wrong", before moving back down.

"M-Mistress, I", Spike let out an elongated moan. "I'm I'm going-"

That was it! The trigger! There was nothing unknown beyond this point.

Rarity bit down and dug her fangs in, relishing in the sensation of his skin stretching around the points. She bit harder and harder until, until...

Spike screamed and hot fluid dripped onto Rarity's tongue; she began lapping up her thrall's blood, moaning in lust and starvation. She bit down harder and a much more viscous heat exploded into her palm.

Spike fell to the ground, sliding down the brick wall that supported him; Rarity watched the spectacle and smiled. She licked her lips and swallowed down the last drops of his blood, shuddering at the metallic taste. She looked down at her hand and licked her lips at the sight of the thick, white goo running over her fingers. She raised her hand over her lips and let it drip into her mouth, what didn't fall in was quickly stolen by her writhing tongue.

The bitter tang was far better that the iron-tasting blood.

She wanted more.

Rarity looked down at her thrall and their eyes met. She'd have more, she knew she would. She leaned down and offered her hand to Spike, which he gladly accepted. Once he was standing, Rarity took him into her arms, pressing their bodies together once more.

"What a good thrall."