The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Why is it that the ones who have the most reason to live in those films die first?



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Ie:



“I’m so happy. I’ve got everything to live for…a good career, prospects… girlfriend… and…”



“Oh God,” their friend exclaims.



“What?”



“Now we know you’ll be the first to die!”





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The Collar (Abridged)





He had walked downstairs slowly and very nervously. Then, once at the bottom of the stairs he turned an immediate left, so as to stand in front of a full length mirror hanging on the wall: the tall slim built young man had looked at himself, hoping that she would like his appearance, for he had shaven fully, so no stubble would harm her delicate flesh.

Running a finger beneath the collar around his neck, he had blushed somewhat at the memory of its purchase – remembering the face on the young woman who had served him in the pet shop as he had sorted through one collar after another, until he had found one that he had gauged would fit him.

He also remembered how his hand had sweat and shook as he had proffered the money for his purchase.

Now, as he stands naked in front of the mirror, the young man runs his hands over his chest, as he plays with his nipples, teasing them erect, his eye fixed on the collar that he wears for her … then, toying with his right nipple with is left hand, James Murcheson let his hand drift down his belly slowly … as he thinks of his wife and the authoritative tone she had adopted when she had told him what to buy, to please her.

He caressed his body with his eyes closed, his arousal growing with as each second passed.

And as he opened his eyes once more, he thought Margaret’s last words as she had left the house earlier that day: “I want to find you kneeling in the hall, naked, save for the collar, waiting for me…”

He took his hard, warm length in hand and smiled at himself in the mirror, “I do hope she approves.”

James took another look at his reflection in the full-length hall-mirror; he was naked, except for the quarter-inch wide, black, studded dog-collar he wore around his neck; and, he felt more than a little foolish, but this and all the other chores he had done that day had been part of the deal that he had struck with Margaret.

He sighed deeply, as he recalled his wife smile at his suggestion that he make restitution for the abysmal, way in which he had treated her mother.

“How?” She had asked as he had coloured at the question, for he had already prepared his reply.

“Well … er, I could…” he had stammered, “be your slave for the day!?”

To his answer to her question, Margaret had smiled at her husband and said to him: “Yes, I like the sound of that … it’s been a horrible weekend and that might just amuse me. So yes honey, book tomorrow off…” and then she had added, “because I’m going to work you hard.”

That had been yesterday. Today he would acquiesce to all that they had agreed upon.

James turned away from the mirror to face the front door: nearly four thirty and soon Margaret will be home from her mothers; so he fingers the collar again, nervously remembering the anger in his wife’s voice as she had said to him, “I wouldn’t have spoken to a dog like you spoke to my mother!”