The Corseted Vampire

During the literal dark and stormy night, an ornate brass key sits snugly in your hand that had arrived in an unmarked envelope earlier in the day. Victorian-esque in shape, you can't shake the feeling of its light vibrations and ominously warming metal as you approach the darkened building up ahead. It's various curves and gilded features are highlighted by the drops of rain flowing over your fingertips and onto the soaking ground below. You adjust your long coat, ensuring the majority of the frigid water doesn't find home within the fibers of your fine clothing. The warm wool of your waistcoat and pants combined with the snugness of your tie is certainly helping to keep some of your natural body heat close. In your pocket rest a small letter written in gilded cursive that also came inside the envelope; its lack of official stamping an indication of not being delivered by any Equestrian bureaucracy or post office. Quite terse and mysterious, albeit non-threatening:

"Nightmare Night.

After midnight, come to Carousel Boutique.

Don your finest attire.

Arrive alone.

Do lot lose the Key to your new Life."

The careful lettering reminded you of Rarity's magical writing. Is she finally finished with her Canterlot trip and back in town? Or perhaps it had been delivered by your "fiance"? Sweetie Belle, already quite the mature foal, had grown rapidly over the past three years in both height and...other places. You blamed it on Pinkie Pie, who constantly shoved cakes and cookies as the sickly-thin filly whenever possible. Despite her odd walking hours, those scarce days she'd be with her friends, she'd been quick to newly introduce you as her husband-to-be, much to the eye-rolling and vocal jabbing of her companions. The filly looked quite normal during the twilight hours, no doubt thanks the helpings of blood and sexual fluids she'd harvest from you in combination with her normalizing physique. Still rarely seen around town, she'd been pulled out of the final months of public schooling by her sister in favor of a private Canterlot education program, and vanished without a trace...however, Sweetie Belle had been rather vigorous during her "goodbye" to you. You question the sanity of your mind while standing like a statue in the icy air of Ponyville; her once hypnotism-induced visits became increasingly consensual. The final time you'd been "together" could have been considered love-making; you were an active participant and couldn't resist rubbing her healthy stomach during your manic thrusting...

You had kept this quiet, taking the situation as it came to glean what you could from the little blood-sucker. After all, what could you say to make anyone believe you? That you were being molested and drank from by a vampire filly? Oh, but she's not interested in killing you, just getting laid. And calling you her husband. Yes, that would go over wonderfully with the guards as they proceed to lock you up inside a scenic mental facility. Probably with that damn barking pony...

Thinking back, you realize how much time you both spent together, and think of just how frequently she'd "bump into you" for a late-night romp; a shiver runs down your spine that certainly isn't the result of any icy winds. Sweetie Belle loved her liquid diet of human sanguine and ivory, and fanatically filled her holes with the latter. Although not inexperienced to the pleasures of the flesh, sleeping with the young vampire had been anything but ordinary. The effects of Sweetie's "love bites" would enhance your sex drive to the point of madness, ensuring that you'd fall from the eventual tipping point of the would-be rape into consensual desire. Hell, you'd even let it slip to a mare or two that you were in a committed relationship with Sweetie Belle while getting hit on at Sugar Cube Corner, your brain shutting off and speaking for you each separate time. The thought of the filly returning to town after being absent the last few months stirs your loins, and makes you worry of just how much subconscious influence the mare had over you.

Once full of the laughter and joy of foals, the streets of Ponyville had cleared out quickly after the storm began. Whipping winds and drenching rains even put a stop to nearly all of the post-Nightmare Night festivities, including Pinkie Pie's late-night soiree. The last minute change in the weather schedule was certainly providing you good cover, ensuring that you arrive alone just as instructed. A rumble of thunder claps through the sky, but you are too focused on inserting the key into the magical lock of Carousel Boutique's fancified doors. You don't remember seeing such an ornate locking mechanism before when entering the boutique...

You're startled as the lock seems to bend and twist with the turn of the key, warping into a auburn-tinted spiral before springing back to normal with a soft "click". Gingerly taking the key, you place a hand on the doorway and open it. Stepping in out of the darkness, you're met with an immediate feeling of stillness. The instant the heavy doors close, thin cracks appear along the lines of your peripherals. Expanding across your vision, you blink once in an attempt to clear them to no avail. Mannequins and hanging dresses become distorted, and all at once, the room shatters like glass. You throw up an arm to block your face, but the fragments ebb away into nothingness.

Revealing your eyes, you're met the sight of bright candelabras lighting a completely different space. The colorful pastels of the walls are replaced with wooden browns and hanging carpets of flowering reds gilded with silver. The various sewing equipment and measuring tools normally scattered around the boutique were replaced with shelves of vials of various liquids and dusty tomes, some representative of times long since passed. Even the furniture seemed to adopt a more archaic style; a chase lounge sitting in the center of the spacious layout. Although the building seemed to keep its original layout, there was little familiar still remaining within its walls.

"Welcome to the real Carousel Boutique, darling." a voice sounds from around the corner steps a well-dressed mare. Her ivory fur is cloaked with a regal bodice of purple lace, her lengthy frock cascading around the room as she waltzes into view. The pony flashes you a rather toothy smile before revealing her pair of pointed fangs with a throaty laugh, her true nature exposing itself...

"Rarity! You...you really are..."

"Stunning, yes? I made this up specifically for tonight." she gestures with a forehoof along her torso. "Now take off your coat. It must be positively dreadful outside; I must thank you for being so punctual despite this inclement weather. I was worried the storm wouldn't hold out for our return from Canterlot to conduct our little ceremony."

"I've had my suspicions," you gulp, hanging your coat along a rack against the door, "but when did Sweetie Belle turn you into a vampire? You never had an overly-gaunt appearance or any reddening eyes..."

"Turn me? Why, whatever gives you the idea that Sweetie was the first mare in town with a taste for vascular wine, hmm?" she flashes a predatory gaze at you.

"Then you're telling me-"

"Yes, I was the one who inducted my lovely little sister into this life...and what a life it is! Eternal youth, forever beautiful, and just look at my fur! Have you ever seen such a diet do such wonders to a mare's coat?" Rarity gently unsnaps her dress with a bit of magic, allowing the garment to fall aside and reveal her lacy lavender corset. "Please, make yourself comfortable in our main room."

You look to where Rarity's hoof is gesturing towards the chaise lounge, and situate yourself atop the upholstery. At least it is a comfortable, albeit eerie atmosphere given your recent revelations.

"How in Equestria have you kept this, this...version, I'm going to say, hidden for so long?"

"Simple, dear. A vampire doesn't become Matriarch overnight without learning how to conceal herself well. Ever since Ponyville's previous representative to The Council met with an untimely fate, I felt more than obligated to assume her title of nobility. The high nobility agreed that there should be someone representing the planned expansion and proper stature of our influence; it was only natural to select me, an Element no less, as a successor. On an unrelated note, it was a lovely stay in Canterlot." the mare giggles softly, allowing the venom of her words to take affect. "I must say, given my stature, I have a delightfully diverse range of stallion-cattle to drink from. Keeping well-fed prevents our...private nature, from becoming exposed. Most vampires in Ponyville do keep their masquerade in order, although much to my frustration, Sweetie Belle frequently strays too close to crossing the line..."

"...just what are you implying?"

"Oh, I can't fault her. She drinks first and foremost with her heart. As I've told her for years, 'It tastes much better when one is in love.'; she's repeatedly refused to hunt other stallions or partake from the matriarch's chattle, let alone harvest their more carnal substance. Shame, since I have a litany of heavy bleeders ripe for biting. One would think that she'd at least indulge with her fangs..."

Your mind swims, struggling that Rarity is not only a creature of the night, but the leader of Ponyville's secretive vampire population before settling on the possible return of your self-proclaimed filly bride.

"Sweetie Belle? Is she with you? I'm assuming that you didn't return here alone."

"Oh yes, Sweetie Belle has returned to these quaint little hunting grounds. She's been positively aching for reunion with her betrothed. Speaking of which, how thoughtless of me to fail to notify my sister of your presence. Sweetie Belle, come here, darling!" Rarity's sing-song voice carries easily though the boutique. It wasn't a second before Sweetie Belle rounds a corner, obviously in earshot the full time and waiting for her sister's approval to step into view. With practiced steps, she gracefully walks closer to you before meeting your eyes with her own.

"Hello, my love."

Sweetie looks far different than when she left. Her gauntness has returned, along with the redness of her eyes. However, instead of a light hint of discoloration, her normally emerald rings are replaced with a deep crimson tone. Her fangs can't be easily hidden and poke slightly out from her upper lip. Hey eyes appear slightly bruised, and her coat is tinted with flecks of grey fur. Her ribbed chest heaves shakily, taking in your scent as her pointed ears twitch once. Glancing down, your vision rests on the young mare's unique attire: her lacy-black corset, and a thin metallic belt wrapping fully around her upper thighs and hardly-existing waist. The elegance of her vestment matches the glistening silver, which radiates a hoof-crafted feel with each subtle etch and design.

"Hello, Sweetie Belle." you say softly, choosing to ignore the contraption at her flank. "You've been gone for so many months. I take it that you have lost weight from the lack of my blood and...intimacy. Correct?"

"Well, even if missing so many meals meant I couldn't leave the lair during my tutelage in Canterlot, abstinence is the finest sauce for a sexual banquet with one's True Love." she smiles hungrily, clearly struggling to resist the overwhelming urge to have either your blood or your seed.

From her manner of Sweetie's speech and gait it was clear that norms of the Canterlot aristocracy had been drilled into her psyche. You assume the role is heavy encouraged by Rarity, considering her obsession with such semantics and her newfound "nobility". Out of the corner of your vision, you notice Rarity carefully watching her sister for any impropriety.

"Oh sister, my elegant little vixen, tonight will be the final night of your denial. A vampire's loins select her partner, considering how one instinctively knows form a young age which male will provide her with the most succulent nectar; fortunately your lover has brought the key to your release."

Sweetie Belle stands still as her eyes shoot to your gilded key laying on the lounge at your hip.

"What has she done so wrong to be placed into such an...object?"

"First, you handsome, innocent man, the silver 'object' is a hoof-made, solid silver, carefully decorated chastity belt. Turn around and show your lover your punishment, Sweetie Belle."

Sweetie blushes heavily, embarrassment rife on her cheeks as she turns herself around. Looking over her shoulder, the young mare flicks her tail dock left and reveals the slender metal plate locking away her onyx netherlips. Small beads of moisture form at the bottom of the curves hugging her rear legs, threatening to drip onto the floor. Your member stirs in your pants, reflexively reacting your the thought of Sweetie Belle's winking lips steaming with need under the belt.

"Second, my darling sister, as much as I've tried to instruct her, is quite passionate and still quite young...and was obviously even younger those many moons ago she decided to take a husband, let alone one who isn't even a pony, without the proper consent of the matriarch. It is highly taboo to select a male without the consent of the county leadership, and even if approved, there is a rigid process involved in investigating the potential groom's worthiness."

"Worthiness?"

Sweetie remains silent and gazes longingly at you while Rarity continues her explanation.

"An untrustworthy stallion could easily risk the security of Ponyville's lairs...and furthermore, as an equally damning decision, one is not allowed to fornicate with non-vampires with the intent of expanding the local brood. Fortunately for her, my unexpected assent to prominence has resulted in her choices being less, shall we say, fatal...but she must be punished for her transgressions so that she does not forget that one uncontrolled exposure could lead to the death of us all. Hence, during Sweetie's remaining time in Canterlot, she was to wear this magically-fastened chastity device to prevent any masturbation before her fiance released her on his ascension night."

You cock your head slightly, trying to remain calm and maintain some semblance of control over the situation. Sweetie Belle turns herself back around and steps back towards her sister, waiting patiently for the filly to take her place.

"Ascension night? You speak in too many riddles, Rarity. I must say, that although little Sweetie Belle has certainly coaxed me into more than a few dalliances, I don;t believe that I've ever formally agreed to wed her."

"Silly man," the matriarch coos as she approaches you, swaying her hips and tail softly. "As I've said, 'a vampire's loins select her partner'. You were Sweetie's the moment her flower bloomed for your pollen."

"Doesn't sound like much of an exercise of free will if you ask me..."

"There is no 'will' in our culture, darling. In our own way, we are all slaves to what our bodies and hearts crave. When a vampire selects her mate, then he has only one choice: accept her love, or meet with a rather unfortunate consequence. On the bright side, the latter option usually results in a wonderful meal for the local matriarch, who arrives to stamp-out any risk of discovery." Rarity reaches out with a hoof and gently strokes your thigh. Sweetie Belle's eyes flash with jealousy, having been unable to even touch you with her hooves. "Mmm...this is a lovely fabric. I must find the supplier."

You shift your hips, thankful that the mare chose to rub along the thigh that your erection wasn't currently running down. You've been conditioned for sex far too easily...

"I'll take it that's what I'm here for, then. To provide you with the comfort that your family's secrets are safe with me, yes?"

"Mhmhmm, my precious gem...there is no difference between 'families'. We've been inseparably linked for far longer than you might suspect. Once we turn you as well, I have little concern that you will make an ideal husband for my darling sister. Of course you'll then only be able to feed her with sexual fluids, but a Lady's intuition tells me that Sweetie Belle would not object to such an arrangement."

"What?! Rarity, you aren't serious...this is a lot to take in tonight. Hearing your secrets, planned marriage, becoming a vampire, I-"

"You'd be wise to make the correct decision." Rarity's tone adopted a more sinister air. "Lives are in the balance; you are well aware as to the lengths I'm willing to traverse to ensure our safety."

Your eyes dart to Sweetie Belle, who shifts anxiously on her hooves. Silently, she begs you to acquiesce; both for her lovesick heart and for fear of the consequences that would undoubtedly result from you declining marriage.

Well, given the alternative, it's plain that you have no real choice unless you wished to wind up like a raisin at Rarity's hooves. Perhaps you are a fool for coming here at all. Perhaps you are a fool for failing to stop Sweetie Belle from having her way with you night after night. But perhaps...this is something you want, a trap your subconscious sends you for time and time again. Maybe life as a vampire wouldn't be so bad with Sweetie Belle at your side. After all, Rarity said that lives were at stake, and you'd be livid if anything were to happen to the darling, albeit sex-hungry filly. Your gaze meets your "fiance" once more, and her blood-red eyes flash in the orange candlelight.

"....yes. I will marry Sweetie Belle."

"Lovely news, darling! To think I had my doubts after all these months. I'm certain that Sweetie Belle is quite happy as well, for more than one reason..." Rarity glances over her shoulder, giving Sweetie a knowing nod. "I'm sure that she's quite eager to consummate the affair formally. Ah, but her punishment, how could I forget. That key will only unlock her chastity belt after a few hours past midnight, when the small keyhole appears on the underside of the silver. Until then, there is simply no way to complete the transformation ceremony. I suppose that my mouth will be a worthy surrogate for such an event, hmm? It is only my right as matriarch to induct such a male into our brood. Besides, Sweetie babbles on and on about the lovely flavors and feelings of satiation after partaking in your ivory fountain. I simply must sample such a treat before turning you mysel-"

"R-Rarity!" Sweetie Belle gasps, a blush of anger held-back from knowing what could happen should she overstep her boundaries. "Please, we've talked about this. I know i should have waited. I know not to risk our family. You can leave the belt on me all night, I don't care if its only come off once my entire time in Canterlot...but please, please let me be the one to turn him..."

"Sister," Rarity shoots Sweetie a nasty glare, using her blue energy to toy your pant zipper lower and lower, "be thankful that I'm only taxing your husband with my mouth in front of you, and not any other orifice. I shall be the one to begin his ascent, and we'll see how things progress from there."

Rarity finishes undoing your fly, and uses a quick bit of magic to pull out your heavy testicles followed by your now throbbing member. She struggles with the length, angling the opening of your pants to properly wiggle the venous pole form its woolen confines.

"My, my...look at the male my sister has chosen. I can see why you decided not to wait to claim him. Come close and observe, Sweetie, and you just might learn a thing or two in the process." she giggles playfully, marishly snorting hot air along your dripping glans. You shiver back, acting as a reluctantly passive participant. However, you feel she shame and desperation in Sweetie Belle's voice, and sympathize with her need to have you again. Taking things slowly would be most advantageous for you; it would be best not to goad your future "matriarch" so you could understand more of things to come...

"Shall I remove my clothing?" you hands go to your tie to undo the knot.

"Oh no, darling," a thum of light blue magic moves your palms aside. "I much prefer a pulchritudinous gentleman such as yourself in his lovely attire." Rarity laps at your crown once with a long, arduous tongue stroke and collects a healthy bead of pre. Slowly, the mare curls her muscle backwards and into her mouth. "Mmm...it inspires me."

Without warning, Rarity opens her hissing lips and takes a quarter of your length into her maw. You groan at the sensation, her flat equine tongue languidly lubricating your hardness. Looking down, you see the subtle indents where your flesh is pinned between her fangs; your girth barely fits between the two dangerous points. The mare hums casually, taking her time as she begins to pull her neck back. You stifle a moan, spreading your legs as the firmness of her fangs contrasts with the delicate ministrations of her lapping appendage. She nearly removes you entirely from her mouth, the stiff ridges of your glans remaining tucked near her gums before she engulfs your length once more.

Sweetie Belle watches her sister roll her head, seeing the purple curls of her mane bouncing as she works your turgid stalk. Sweetie subconsciously licks her lips, scraping the floor with her forehooves and unable to blink. Her long-neglected clitoris winks from its ebon pocket, moist with need the moment she'd lain eyes on you that night. The combination of squelching and spattering within her belt reaches the ears of the matriarch, who simply continues her painfully relaxed oral. The filly swallows dryly, almost panting at the sight or her sister taking nearly half of her husband's shaft.

Rarity stares into you, dipping her mouth lower and lower with each inhale though her nose. Every withdraw is accompanied with a nearly painful ache in your member. You feel contractions as larger dollops of pre mingle with the mare's saliva before sliding down her throat with a delicate "gulp". The matriarch's well-paced breathing and subtle slurping contrasts her sister's desperation. A gentle pitter-patter of filly juice lands on the ground, drawing your attention. The foal's corset rises and falls with her breathing, the elegant lace once again accentuating her figure and making your manhood stiffen further.

The young mare imagines your length resting between the plush softness of her own cheeks, throbbing in time with your heartbeat. She recalls the many glorious midnights she's nursed your glans, suckling on your shapely ridge and breaking only occasionally to nuzzle your hanging orbs. She whimpers at the void, her tongue lolling about within the woefully vacant space. Her throat swallows reflexively, imagining the seemingly endless ropes of sperm plastering the back of her gullet and satiating her thirst in the way only you, her lover, could. You watch as Sweetie Belle reaches a hoof back, lost in your pupils and preparing to-

"*tink!*"

Sweetie squeezes her eyelids shut at the metallic sound, shaken from her fantasy. Her chastity belt holds firm, the lock still to be hidden from use for several hours. Rarity's own ears catch the chime, and she pulls her pursed orifice off your manhood with a quiet "pop".

"Punishment, darling." the mare coos, chiding her sibling while placing light kisses along your plum. Bit by bit, Rarity makes her way around the head and down your broad length, stopping to hold your testicles with a hoof to check their fullness and shape. Despite your best efforts, you can't stop a muffled groan; the mare's teasing causing your thickness to throb painfully. Rarity smiles devilishly at your reaction, catching you grip at the lounge.

"Goodness, you're positively trembling. I've heard many a rumor about the virility of your species; it would seem as though you don't disappoint." Rarity begins, conjuring up a pair of wispy blue orbs that massage the veins at the base of your trunk as she speaks, "However, I fail to see how human males can possibly endure such a state of constant arousal. You are conundrum; resisting the advances of mares while repressing such a powerful drive to reproduce...and then there's this," she huffs marishly against your pole, sending it dripping pre to the ground. "Such a studly plaything human females must enjoy. How selfish of you to strive to hide such a marvelous feature from poor little Sweetie Belle; all she craves is the love of her groom. Don't you want to give it?"

You throw your head back as the magical stroking sensation spreads down your veins, twisting around your shaft before pressing against the rear of your hood. It had been quite some time since your last release, and your feel the pressure of denial stoking your sexual desire.

"Rarity," you grunt, feeling your pectorals pushing against your neatly buttoned waistcoat, "I...I'm-AH!"

The mare gently brushes her front teeth along your flesh, missing with her fangs by not more than a millimeter.

"Go on then," she whispers as her magic kneads the spread-out ridges of your glans. "Ask your matriarch what you crave."

"I'm close. So, so close..." your shaft swells, feeling the building seed churning in your balls and preparing to surge forth. You can hear the frantic panting of Sweetie Belle, who has stepped slightly closer to observe the glorious finale. The matriarch pauses, taking a deep breath and opening her jaw wide. Closing her eyes, Rarity continues her magical massage as she takes you past her tonsils and into her throat. She manages to fit nearly your whole masculinity, roughly an inch or so remaining exposed to the air. Sweetie watches in disbelief, ogling the slight bulge of her big sister's throat as the matriarch swallows heavily around your shaft. The stimulation is overwhelming, nearly sending you over the edge. After engulting your spear with the ridges of her esophagus, she dislodges herself with a lewd schlick.

"Then cum for me. Give your matriarch every last drop of human seed." Rarity gives your glans the gentlest of kisses, frenching the small slit at the end until she feels you throb powerfully. Moving only a few inches back, she positions her open maw in plain view to that her sister might easily bare witness.

Every muscle in your body tenses as the first shot of sperm lands thickly across Rarity's features. Your first rope takes nearly a full second to fully leave your shaft, and leaves a wide line across the mare's mane and nose bridge before dripping into her mouth. Accustomed to the thin fluids of stallions, Rarity is unprepared for the thick viscosity of your seed and reacts quickly to adjust herself. The second spurt fires powerfully, gushing into the mare's throat as she simply holds her mouth open for more. Sweetie Belle leans forward, letting out a high-pitched whine and sticking out her own tongue only to catch the bitter air. It took every ounce of the filly's discipline to stop herself from shoving her sister aside and capping your exploding fountain with her own thirsty lips. After the fourth rope, Rarity does just that.

You cry out, mind awash in pleasure as the mare on your girth softly bobs her head, swallowing each wave of cum before holding the smaller gushes expertly between her cheeks. Rarity keeps suckling as your bountiful load finishes, still massaging your testicles with magic to confirm that every last drop was relinquished. You wince as she finally removes her puckering lips, ultra-sensitive from the scraping stimuli of her fangs; it feels like a massive weight of lust has been lifted out of your balls and you collapse back along the chaise lounge. Rarity gracefully tosses her mane, striking a pose of dominance as she rolls the mounds of cream with her tongue. She murmurs approvingly at the taste, savoring the richness.

"Sweetie Belle," the matriarch opens her mouth carefully in an attempt to speak, "...come and give your generous sister a kiss...and never forget who permits you your husband."

Even in your post-orgasmic daze you're able to lift your head enough to see the lithe filly scramble over to her sister in a desperate gallop. Rarity opens her cummy lips, allowing the nectar to drip from her tongue and fangs as a large dollop is nearly lost to the ground before being caught by Sweetie's mouth. The sisters meet in a wet, sloppy kiss as Sweetie Belle frantically laps at the thick white seed. Rarity, for the most part, is content to hold open her mouth and allow Sweetie her long-denied treat, thinking back to a time when her naive sibling hungered for confectionery delights on Nightmare Night rather than the essence of a man. Their corsets rubbed together, creating a pleasurable friction along the each mare's teats and barrel. Watching the two slender mares in their oral embrace kept your manhood rigid as steel; you watch the show with wide eyes. The young mare was careful not to prick herself on the matriarch's fangs as her flat tongue sought every ounce of human cream.

"Ahaha, that's enough, Sweetie," Rarity laughs genuinely as her sister smooches the long line of cum running up her nose, tracing the thick rope all the way into the dense clump in her purple mane. "Save some enthusiasm for after your belt comes off tonight. But first," Rarity ignores Sweetie Belle licking the side of her face to approach your sprawled form, "to finish the transformation ceremony."

Rarity takes a rears on her hind legs, her sister retreating backwards in surprise. With an elegant pounce, the mare seizes your neck with her fangs right above your collar.

"Agh!" you cry, not anticipating the aggressive action. You clench your eyes, and yield to the darkness that was surely about to engulf your heart. However, instead of feeling any blood leaving your arteries, you simply remain frozen as Rarity holds you with her teeth.

"No!...n-no, you promised..." Sweetie Belle steps back, tears of hurt welling up as she watches her sister go through the motions of inducting you into the world of the damned. A few more seconds pass as you feel the gentle tingle of Rarity's chucking against your skin. She withdraws her teeth rather painfully, causing you to flinch and your long-sleeved shirt to be stained with droplets of blood.

"Hmm, it seems like I'm a bit too distracted to finish the ritual myself; I should really set about finding a human of my own for the future if this is the sweetmilk that men produce." she gestures towards your ever-turgid rod, "Dear sister, perhaps if you are swift enough, your vampirism can be the one to mark him as your own. Wouldn't that be romantic; a wife transforming her husband into a being of immortal darkness to ensure their eternal matrimony?"

Sweetie Belle's chest heaves in her tight corset; her gaze darts from her sister over to your exposed neck. Time seems to halt as the filly lunges, more vampiric and bestial than ever as rows of sharp teeth and fangs make for a frenzied bid at her groom. Pinning her eyes open, she hisses harshly before pinning you down by the shoulders and biting into Rarity's pre-made holes. Sweetie's pronounced fangs, far longer than her sisters, dig further into the artery. Immediately, you feel the difference as the filly's vampirism begins to spread through your body. Your capillaries are on fire, and the nerves of in your muscle tissue electrify with energy. Rarity hadn't began the process at all, but was rather staging the process to the chagrin of her sister. The result led Sweetie to bite you with passion, attempting to claim you her human in every way possible, hoping to override the matriarch with her own dark magic.

A tsunami of anxiety floods your brain as your lifeblood pours into your fiance's mouth only to be replaced by the blessings of vampirism. Your thumping heart stops for a solid five seconds before resuming its steady rhythm; Sweetie Belle continues her feast. Your vision is dotted with small blotches resembling flies, swarming your eyes and multiplying as if an ominous cloud. A sudden soreness runs rife, causing every joint to ache. Most damnable of all is your erection, still throbbing painfully as the filly shifts herself to lay atop your torso. Eventually, after nearly two straight minutes, Sweetie Belle reluctantly releases you from her toothy embrace. Although you cannot say that you feel worse, you certainly feel different. You're certain that the true extent of your metamorphosis is yet to be realized; the young mare nuzzles your bleeding neck with her nose, taking brief sniffs and curling her lips back to taste the droplets.

"It worked..." Sweetie Belle mumbles almost inaudibly, "I can smell it...you're mine now. You're really mine..." her voice trickles off into breathy hitches of near-disbelief. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around the...your mare. Glancing down, you notice that your erection has finally subsided, although certainly once your body became used to its new state, your lust would undoubtedly return. A palm brushes against, Sweetie's silver chastity belt, and already you could feel your member stirring in anticipation for the hours to pass. Still, it would be prudent to prevent the foal from suffering any unnecessary sexual discomfort until then. A quick look around the room as you re-secure your manhood with your trousers reveals that Rarity is nowhere to be found; she has obviously given you time with your filly-bride to be alone and talk about the whirlwind of the night's events.

"Looks like your belt is still on. We can find some way to pass the time until the proper hour strikes."

"W-we can wait," Sweetie mumbles, drunk on emotion and hemoglobin. "There's...many, many things we must discuss about our new life together. Before we know it, the time will pass and you can finally remove this, this thing from me so we can finally be together again."

"I can understand." you gently stroke her mane with a hand while the other rests in the center of her flanks. A few peaceful moments pass as you breathe together, feeling your rebirth taking hold. Rarity giggles from seemingly out of nowhere; a gentle series of squeaks and the rolling of wheels from the adjoining hall catches your attention.

"Wait here, my husband." Sweetie Belle looks up at you lovingly before sliding from your embrace. She quickly trots around the corner, leaving you to wonder what could have possibly lured the filly away from your arms. When she returns into view, she is accompanied by her re-dressed sister who uses her magic to push a small, gilded stroller of sorts. Victorian in nature, the onyx basket seems finely decorated and covered with an ebon veil. Sweetie trots proudly, taking the lead and wheeling the elaborately-crafted carriage closer.

"Sweetie Belle, what is this?"

"My greatest treason, and my greatest treasure." Sweetie swoons towards the carriage, smiling warmly as a single drop of your lifeblood drips from her fangs.

"I told you lives were at stake when you made your choice to accept Sweetie's proposal, did I not?" Rarity lowers her eyelids and gives you a knowing smile. "Half-bloods are shunned by vampire society as an extreme social liability, traditionally culled by shall we say, cautious matriarchs should their vampirism not be fully 'awoken'; fortunately, they can be turned full-fledged by a magical bite on the midnight of their first birthday by their mother...and father." she allows Sweetie to wheel the basket closer, opting to stay further back.

You thought that your heart couldn't become any more still than before; perhaps it wasn't the lack of lovemaking or blood-wine that resulted in Sweetie's dramatic weight loss...

"Born 335 days after conception in Canterlot, an ideal length of time for a mare's pregnancy to come into a healthy term." Rarity whispers, although you're far too bewildered to hear her.

Sweetie Belle solemnly removes the obstructive veil with a thum of peridot magic to reveal a small foal, white as snow with with a sky-blue mane sound asleep within a blanket cocoon. You observe breathlessly as the newborn equine's chest moves up and down, shifting the silken blanket slightly with each motion. Sweetie quietly trots next to you, shaking you from your unblinking stupor with a delicate kiss on the lips.

"He has your eyes..."