Black Vampire Lord

Adam Brent is the name. Most people just call me Young Adam. I don't know why, but that nickname has stuck with me for ages. I'm a tall, and dare I say good-looking young African man with dark brown skin, curly black hair and pale gray eyes. Anyone looking at me would see a young African-American male. The kind of man that both men and women can't help but feel attracted to. I'm a bisexual black stud and I totally love the attention both men and women give me. I'm no ordinary sexy guy, either. They would be wrong, though not entirely. I'm more than just a man. You see, I am also a vampire.

I bet you don't hear too much about Black vampires. Well, it's time to set the record straight. There aren't that many vampires out there but many of them are people who look just like me. My maker was this female vampire named Kali Johnson. If you were to gaze upon her, you'd see a tall, regal African woman in her early forties. Of course, she's a lot more than that. Kali Johnson has been known under many names. She has been just about everywhere. In ancient Africa, she was once a warrior queen. These days, she's a night club owner in Los Angeles.

Kali Johnson was my maker. Can you imagine this? A 2000-year-old vampire housed in the body of a night club owner. I guess life takes us all into many strange places. Kali has made many vampires in her day, most of whom are of African descent. What can I say, she has a preference. Kali was my maker and for a time, my lover. We've shared many torrid nights together. I can remember one of our particularly steamy encounters. It was in the summer of 1899. I was wandering through Texas, looking for adventure. I had gotten separated from my companions. I wandered into the small town of Amarillo, seeking refuge from the elements. I found Kali Johnson in this very small town. She was making a living as a bar owner and was in a steamy relationship with John Shay, the town sheriff.

I hadn't seen Kali in years. We had previously seen each other in 1840. Back then, I was still raging against the practitioners of slavery, which was pretty much everyone back then. I had made many mistakes in those days. I had a deep hatred for the slavers and freed many slaves, often turning them into vampires. I've lost count of how many Black men and women I turned into vampires but I can tell you that the numbers were pretty darn high. Kali had come to stop me. There were rules, even in the vampire world. There can only be a certain number of predators in a certain land. If that number is exceeded, chaos ensues.

What works in the natural world also works in ours. What did I know back then? I thought I was doing them a favor. Giving these African men and women who had been snatched away from their homelands and sold into slavery the ultimate gift : Immortality, and the power to pay back those who had enslaved them. In those days, I was known as the Blood King. I lived in a plantation in Texas and was served by many vampires, all of whom were former slaves. I had given them freedom, and power. In their eyes, I was a god. I must say that I enjoyed the power. I committed many atrocities in those days. My vampire acolytes, also known as the Blood Pack, would attack farms and plantations at night. We would kill all of the owners. To the slaves, we would offer a choice. Either they perish like their former masters or they become vampires, like us.

By the time Kali came back into my life, I was ruler of a band of vampires which numbered in the hundreds. Not all of them were made by me. Some had been made by others whom I had created. Kali helped me realize the error of my ways, but my powers of persuasion were great even then. For a time, Kali Johnson was the Blood Queen, my consort. We ruled the night. What does that say about me? I could sell pebbles on the beach, folks. Especially to the ladies. I can be very convincing when I want to be. One night, I went into her chambers. Kali was there, her splendid body was naked. I smiled and disrobed, then walked up to her.

I looked at her. All of those centuries had done wonders for her supple body. Vampires are like fine wine. We only get better with age. Kali and I hadn't been together in ages. What can I say? I just had to satisfy this sixty-year itch, alright? I kissed Kali, and pulled her into my arms. She kissed me back, and drew me down into her bed. Slowly, passionately, we began to make love. I bit into her neck, and drew blood. I drank from her. Her blood tasted sweet and raw, filled with power and sensuality. Kali moaned as I drank from her. Her hands caressed my body, and her nails dug into my flesh, piercing it. Instantly, I was healed, of course.

All of our brethren can regenerate. It's one of our greatest abilities. As I drank from Kali and felt her sexy body undulating beneath mine, I felt desire. From the taste of her blood and her urgent words, I could tell that she felt it too. Kali begged me to take her, in the traditional manner. I was hard already. Blood letting is the most erotic thing I can think of. I entered her swiftly, and at once our bodies were joined. Kali pulled my arm and bit it, drinking from my blood. Our passion was raging at its peak. I thrust into her, taking her with all my might. Kali dug her nails into my back, and let go of my arm, urging me to be harder and faster. And so I fucked her, harder and faster, just the way she liked it. We continued to fuck and suck all night. At some point, we switched positions. Kali climbed on top of me. Her large, firm breasts rocked against my face and I gently caressed them as she rode me for all she was worth. I was thrusting deep inside her, and her tight flesh gripped my manhood. Gentle, passionate growls escaped her throat as we fucked. I suckled on her breasts and planted my hands on her hips, supporting her as she rode me like a cowgirl. Hell, I'm pretty sure she said heehaw a couple of times. We both came multiple times, and finally fell asleep, sated.

Yes, Kali Johnson, my maker, was on her way to becoming my Blood Queen. For a time, she was, until the end came, spectacularly and unexpectedly. You see, I invaded a farm with my vampire acolytes and was surprised to discover that many of the slaves not only knew about who and what we were but also refused to join us. Instead, they joined their masters. We were driven off. I had lost more than a dozen followers. I was not a happy camper. Although she disagreed with some of my tactics, Kali valiantly fought by my side against the slaves who had fought against my vampires due to their own refusal to become inhuman and also because their masters promised them freedom if they helped them escape our wrath.

We were retreating. My acolytes returned to the plantation, a sad and unhappy bunch. The mistake that many people make when they become vampires is that they think they're invincible. Vampires have many abilities. We are stronger than humans, and faster too. Our bodies can regenerate indefinitely. There are very few ways that we can die. Sunlight will kill us. Burn us into ash. That much is true. We are immune to disease and aging. A vampire's body can heal itself from any damage he or she sustains. However, if you are a vampire and you get beheaded, or burned to ash, then you're done. It's that simple. Most of the slaves-turned-vampires thought of themselves as invincible. It proved to be their undoing.

I can see why invincibility is tempting for vampires. I knew this man named Ralph. In mortal life, he was a slave. A five-foot-nine, 150-pound man. He was not very large. Yet once he became a vampire, this ordinary Joe suddenly could lift ten times his body weight and run almost as fast as a horse. Yes, vampire power gets to your head. What was worse is the fact that men from the nearby farms, armed with guns and machetes, began to raid our land. We had fast acquired a nasty reputation as the farm run by devils. They came en masse. What's worse is the fact that they came near dawn. Most of my acolytes were asleep. Kali and I weren't on the farm that day. We were in the caves nearby, feeling somewhat romantic and all that. When we returned the next night, most of my acolytes had been destroyed. The few of them that escaped hid in the surrounding forest. The Blood King was suddenly without a kingdom. Kali and I left Texas not long after that. For a time, I was very angry. The humans had destroyed everything I had ever built. I had gone from respected and revered leader of powerful acolytes to rogue and pauper in one night. I had what most men spend their entire lives pursuing. I had wealth and power, respect and admiration. And it was all taken away from me by a bunch of Texan farmers and their not-so-bright slaves.

To say that I was not a happy camper would have been an understatement. As it was in the beginning, Kali was with me. When I was an African slave in the island of Saint Domingue, which would later become The Democratic Republic of Haiti , Kali came and changed my life. I went from runaway slave to Lord of the Night and Vampire Prince. Yes, all was not lost. Kali was with me. Back then, that was enough. After all that we've been through, I guess I can call it love. I've had many lovers, both male and female, and I shall never forget Kali. A vampire can never forget his or her maker. It's the unalienable bond of blood sharing, after all.