The Masturbating Vampire - Christoph Paul

Val Cortez knew God’s purpose for him was to save the souls of the savages, because he was once a savage.

He loved young female flesh and slept with many girls in northern Spain until one was with child. Not ready to be a father, he traveled by donkey down to the southern coast of Spain to Toledo to escape marriage.

But Huelva became a lonely place for Cortés.

He drank wine from morning to night to forget his failure to answer the call of fatherhood. He ended up destitute and near death when a nun found him on the side of the street.

She was not an attractive woman but he saw a new type of beauty that came from her offering food and salvation.

He bonded with the nun and enjoyed the teachings of the Bible. These teachings gave his life meaning and he felt special knowing God loved and forgave him. He made peace with his new life and developed a friendship of the soul with her.

The nun was proud of her pupil when he asked her if he should join the Church. She smiled and blessed his decision to go into the Priesthood.

The Church accepted Cortés but all the priest positions were taken in Huelva; the Church decided it would be best if he became priest of the first ship traveling to the New world. His assignment guided by the Holy Spirit was to travel to the Americas for gold and to save the savage souls.

Cortés accepted the position from the Church and was ordained. He felt blessed and ready to leave the past behind.

***

When he boarded the ship with the crew, he felt optimistic and enjoyed the smell of the sea. Inside the ship, one of his duties was to lead dinner prayer and after desert console the lonely seamen. His prayers, guidance, and empathy for the men helped the ship keep up morale.

The other men discussed missing their families and Cortés couldn’t help thinking of his own child. He wondered what sex the baby was. Even being filled with the Holy Spirit he could not suspend the guilt he felt for abandoning the child.

Each night before bed, he prayed to feel less guilt. He asked God to take this guilt and transform it into more faith. It took time but as the ship approached the America’s, Father Cortés was able to accept it was not in God’s plan for him to be a father. The ship’s men were his children and his job was to feed their souls and soon the savages.

When the ship landed, Cortés and his shipmates walked on to the New World’s shore. It was as hot as Andalucía but it had a different smell, unclean and wild like the brothels Cortés visited before the Holy Spirit saved him.

The people of the land were darker skinned with long hair and looked suspicious of the ship. Father Cortés said a prayer asking God to bless their mission. The other men walked off the ship holding guns and ready to conquer the coast.

Cortés' prayer was interrupted when the savages shot arrows at the lighter skinned intruders. The savage’s arrows were not powerful enough to stop the magic black sticks of the Spaniards. Soon the coastal tribe was on their knees the way Cortés had his men kneel during Sunday service.

The Ship’s soldiers took over the tribe grabbing their gold and bringing it back to the ship.

***

Days passed and the dark skinned men and women became too weak to fight back; it was disease not the guns that took their fight away, as their immune systems became as weak as their bows.

The disease, a Spanish form of Small Pox, infected 2/3 of the tribe. They lost their strength and their heathen gods did not cure them nor did their Shaman who was also succumbing to the Spanish Small Pox.

The Shaman’s rituals and concoctions did nothing to stop the sickness of himself and his tribe. The Shaman was getting closer to death but Cortés saw him as a way to convert all of the tribe to Christians before they passed.

Cortés pulled the Shaman aside to talk with him in private under a palm tree.

He treated the Shaman with respect like he was an equal. He had his translator explain the truth of Heaven, Jesus Christ, and that if the Shaman converted to Christianity and helped his tribe do the same he would sit at the right hand of God and never feel pain again.

He then paused and gave the shaman a solemn face and explained if he did not accept Christ and convert, his tribe they would all feel Hell Fire for eternity.

The shaman was starting to feel the pain as the disease mutated; it was affecting his blood flow giving the spiritual chief a burning sensation throughout his body. The Shaman started to crave the idea of an afterlife with no pain, for he knew death was coming soon.

He accepted Cortés' God and was the first of the tribe to be baptized. Afterward he told his tribe to accept the ‘Jesus’ as their God or else they would feel an even worse pain after they died.

The Shaman died a day later but Father Cortés was able to convert many savages offering them joys of Jesus’s Heaven that Father Cortés described as an afterlife full of Gold, cold breeze, and all the fish and yuca you could eat.

***

A week later after a Sunday Service on the shore, Father Cortés and the other Spanish settlers returned to Spain as most of the tribe had perished.

Those they did not perish saw the Spanish Small Pox mutate into a parasitic blood disease. The savages started cutting themselves to let out the ‘fire blood.’ With no Shaman and only a Bible in Spanish, a twenty-something boy who was not dying from the disease took the Shaman’s place.

He cut the arms of his people and started sucking out the blood of the sick to see if it would cure them; he believed his body could handle their fiery blood. 

It did, the disease affected the blood sucking stand in-Shaman in a different way: he did not die from the disease like the rest but instead his immune system developed strange symptoms to deal with the disease like being sensitive to sunlight and a craving more human blood to give the body Vitamin D and keep its telomeres from ending.

The disease became a mutated parasite that required human blood for nourishment, a disease that made a human host unable to die.

The parasitic disease also wanted to spread itself sexually; if no new human blood was ingested it would give a signal to the brain to release semen or take in semen— it would make the host feel like their blood was on fire to reproduce itself.

Once the young Shaman was fully turned, he desired blood and to spread the disease through his seed. He masturbated at first to feel less of the burn but it got tiresome and the thirst for blood got stronger.

He would not rape his people, he did not want to release this demon inside them and give them curse the white man gave him. Instead, he masturbated behind a palm tree until the sun went down. The few of members his tribe that were left were granted their wish for death as he sucked out all their blood and cooled his fiery blood.

When there were no more bodies of blood to suck, he cried as he masturbated onto their dead bodies.

After he climaxed again, he made a vow that if the white man’s ship ever came again he would get revenge. He would turn the white man’s shaman, who spoke the lies of the Jesus, into the same demon as him. He understood that the demon could be passed only through someone sucking on his blood. 

The vampire Indian would give the white shaman the curse of the disease: the constant need to take life or release it from yourself.

He waited and hungered for more human blood and for revenge. He chronically masturbated waiting for the next ship of Spaniards to reach the shore.  

***

Father Cortés was back on the ship heading to the same shore of the Vampire Shaman.

 Spain and The Church were proud of him and his ship’s progress. The Church funded a second mission to start a colony on the same coast. With no Indians left they could claim the land for the Catholic Church who would continue to help as long as the gold made its way back to them and the Crown.

Father Cortés enjoyed the ship now had families aboard looking for a new start just like he received from the Church. He would see the smiles of the children, and enjoy their innocence but yet there was still a part of him that wondered about his own child.

He’d have to say the Hail Mary Prayer and take solace in being the spiritual farther of the ship.

Like his soul, his child was in God’s hand, which was better than his own. He was not returning to Spain and accepted and embraced being the Church’s servant and priest of the New World Colony.

When the ship reached the same shore, the captain called everyone to the dining hall. He told Father Cortés and the rest of the passengers to wait until daylight to step onto land and reminded them they were blessed by God to arrive safely. He asked Father Cortés to say the night’s prayer before everyone returned to sleep. Cortés obliged and said a Hail Mary but a scream came from the inside of the ship stopping the sacred prayer.

Father Cortés looked under the moonlight and saw a young Native on board; the long haired boy was attacking the innocent by sucking blood from their necks. Father Cortés recognized the young man. He remembered a boy that did not get sick from the disease, but he was no longer a boy—he was some type of demon who craved the white man’s blood.

The families screamed as the soldiers from the Spanish Army shot their rifles and threw their knives at the Native but nothing killed him. He took the stabbing and the bullets but still stood up right as he sucked the blood of soldiers, mothers, and children.

Father Cortés made the sign of the cross. He asked God for his protection watching blood spill out of the red skinned demon’s wounds but be healed when he sucked on the new necks of the Spaniards’.

In horror, Cortés saw the demon-boy suck the children’s blood out of their little bodies after he finished with their parents. Cortés left his flock and ran to the back of the ship. He hid in the ship’s modest chapel and heard more screams of the dying. He prayed to the God who had saved him before and he hoped would do the same again.

The young Native had killed everyone. He made his way to the back of the ship’s chapel where Cortés continued to pray. The vampire approached him with hate and bloodlust in his eyes. Father Cortés held his cross out for protection and prayed louder.

The young vampire took the cross out of his hand and threw it against the wall.

He growled at Cortés and said in broken Spanish, “Your people destroyed mine. You Christians said I go to hell. But I did not die. I cannot die. The demon you preached about; it is in  me. The demon makes me ingest blood or release seed. That is curse. To take life or let seed out. But curse can spread.”

Father Cortés begged the vampire in Spanish, "Please demon, don't make me into..." but he stopped mid-sentence as the vampire bit his neck and then put his own bloody wrist into Father Cortés' mouth forcing his ‘demon’ blood into Cortés' human body which was being drained of his own human blood.

The disease spread quickly forcing Father Cortés to desire more blood; he started suck harder on the Indian’s wrist.

The blood trade finished.

Father Cortés was full of new diseased blood and the Native felt no need to masturbate.

The young boy wiped the blood off his mouth. “Now, you will know the true loneliness. When it is late at night and you masturbate and cry, know you deserve it.”

The Native left Father Cortés to find new blood and masturbate.

Father Cortés felt his heart beat with the new blood; it burned and he felt the burn the most in his crotch area. He needed to suck blood or release this ‘burn’ inside.

Horny and hungry Cortés left the ship and walked onto the shore.

His senses were new and alien. His sense of smell and hearing increased as he heard and smelled the water washing against the beach while his massive erection pointed toward the trees.

A wild boar walked toward Farther Cortés, but he did not want to take any lives of God's creatures. He hissed at the boar that whimpered and ran away.

Cortés could not handle the burning sensation, he needed to release it. He grabbed his erect penis and started masturbating for the first time since he took the Priesthood.

It did not take much time as he came and the burn inside him cooled.

He wiped the semen off his hand with the leaves of a palm tree. He felt hatred for the Native that made him this way; he felt existential loneliness as he was now a demon and believed he was no longer in God’s grace.

He contemplated about ending his life but knew that was the most mortal of all sins. Deep down he knew he lacked the courage to do the deed. Even worse, he did not know how to kill himself, all he knew was he really wanted blood or to let his seed out on to the ground or inside a woman.

He screamed for the Native but the Indian did not return leaving Father Cortés with a loneliness and a desire for blood and masturbation. No one came, the animals were the only sounds he heard. Cortés was now alone in the coastal swaps of Florida and wondered if he was being punished for his past sins.

His philosophizing would only last so long as the cravings would come. He ended up masturbating ten times in three hours but the burn would return, for an act that felt new he was already sick of it.

He went out into the swamps to hunt accepting he would kill an animal for its blood. He went deeper into the swamps and found an alligator. He grabbed the six-foot gator and bit into his head sucking the blood out but it did not cure the need.

He needed human blood. The disease fed off and needed the DNA strands of human blood cells for nourishment.

He took his teeth out of the alligator and masturbated until he climaxed on top of the gator’s head. The gator was in a daze but Cortés felt an existential ache that unless he found human blood, he would spend all of eternity masturbating.

***

For Cortés, time moved fast and slow; it does that when you’re chronically masturbating. The years passed and the Americas became inhabited by more men and women from all parts of Europe and Africa. Cortés still kept part of his human soul and morality; he knew if he got too close to human beings he would attack them. Instead he lived deep in the swamps where the moist air felt good for masturbation.

He masturbated through out the centuries, staying put in the swamps. He only took human blood twice: a dying southern solider during the Civil War who decided to spend his last moments in the swamps. Cortés saw the man suffering and sucked his blood until he crossed over.

The other time was once during the depression of the 1930’s; it was a little boy who was malnourished and on the verge of death. He ran into the swamps to find food but was attacked by a gator. Missing a limb and about to die, Cortés gave the boy his Last Rites, finishing with the sign of the cross and then sucked out all of the boy’s blood. The boy’s blood tasted delicious and it felt good to not need to masturbate, but the sin of killing a child hurt the remaining bits of his soul. 

He buried the boy giving him a Christian ceremony and vowed never to suck human blood again. He cried heavy tears and masturbated thoroughly through the night.

More Europeans and Africans came to the Americas and more years passed for Cortés. He lived a purgatory existence of sleeping in the shade during the day and masturbating in the night. He would say his prayers after he climaxed and then go back to masturbating when the burn in his blood returned.

He stayed in the swamps of Florida but each year the swamp would get smaller and less wild. Until 500 years had passed when the swamp was so small he could smell human bodies from only a few miles away. 

Civilization was encroaching. A pit stop had been built less than a mile from Father Cortés' swamp-home; it had a gas station and a Taco Bell. He smelled the burritos and tacos from Taco Bell. The smell of frijoles reminded him of bean potajes, which brought back his human memories of his old country of Spain. An even more potent smell was the fast-food establishment’s patrons with their fresh blood having lunch.

He tried to masturbate to calm the cravings of memory and bloodlust but it was too strong. He climaxed and then walked out of the swamps wearing the same ripped rags of his priest uniform that clung to skin. He trudged through the road masturbating to the flesh and that smell which reminded him of old Spain.

When he reached the highway he saw a whole new world: mechanical donkey rides and magical lights. It wasn’t just Satan that took over him, Lucifer now ruled the world as he saw women dressed scandalously who rode in strange-wheeled machines.

He craved the blood pumping through their flesh; he was given dirty looks by drivers as he masturbated and walked to the pit stop. He wanted blood or to leave his seed inside these women but the human that lived inside of him did not want to let the demon inside him win.

The closer he got to the smell of that food the more of his humanity he remembered. He thought of when he was a boy and his mother would make fresh beans and serve them with fresh bread. 

It brought him sadness as he cried and masturbated until he reached Taco Bell.

He walked to the drive-through where he saw a young pale but beautiful girl of Spanish decent who spoke in his native tongue. “Please, I can’t give out any food…and you can not do that in public.”

He looked at her and stopped masturbating. It was strange but he did not want to suck her blood; though, he still wanted to masturbate. He wondered if it was love at first sight that overpowered this urge to attack her.

He nodded his head and left to masturbate in the Taco Bell dumpster.

He kept on masturbating when he felt a trash bag hit his arm and stop him from climaxing. Cortés looked up and saw the same girl from the drive-through window.

She starred at him with his penis in his hands but was not startled and told him in Spanish, “It is okay. I know what you are; I know you have the burn in your blood. Come home with me. You will shower. You need it and then we shall talk.”

Val Cortez was in shock and could only nod his head in agreement.

He loved being near someone and not craving the need to suck their blood. He loved too that she was so kind hearted. It had to be love; he wondered if she was angel walking the earth.

He stopped masturbating and she escorted him to her car.

They arrived at her apartment that had oriental blinds all around the windows that she bought at Ikea. Cortés did not understand what these strange curtains were but he also could not understand why he did not want to suck her blood.

She smiled at him and said, “It feels good, right.”

“What does senorita?”

“To not want to suck the blood of someone you are standing next to.”

“Si, how do you know? How do you know what I think and feel; are you a witch or an angel that can read the mind?”

“No, I know because I am like you. I am a vampire, one who consumes blood or engages in lust to the stop the burn.”

“Vampire?”

“That is what we call ourselves, there are more of us now, you must have been one of the first. Where have you been? It’s like you know nothing of the modern world?”

“I do not know much senorita; I have lived in the swamps for many years. I have been…a vampire for hundreds and hundreds of years. I have lost count how many years. I don’t suck blood; not anymore. I masturbated many times, for many years. How long have you been a…vampire?”

“I have been one a long time too; I came to the New World, to find family but became a vampire instead.”

“Was it a Native that turned you too?”

“No it was an ex-Catholic Spanish nun, from the old world. We did very bad things. Lesbian things. Afterward she sucked my blood as I sucked hers. I turned. She stayed with me and we masturbated together as we squirted to stop the blood lust. She then abandoned me and I have been fending for myself ever since. ”

“I forgive you.”

She laughed and said, “You forgive me?”

“I was a priest once, but now…now, I’m not; I still forget sometimes. But now, with you, I feel something. Something like love. I have felt unimaginable loneliness, the absence of God and man. I want and need a partner. Someone who understands. Someone to love and love back. We can release seed together to keep up us from sucking blood. We can try to be less sinful and still serve God even if we are demons.”

“I don’t want to suck blood anymore either. And I have been lonely too. The human that lays cold inside me feels something toward you. Something like…a connection.”

She let out a tear. Father Cortés wiped it off and told her, “It is okay. We are both good Spaniards that have demon blood but we can make a Heaven of this Hell with one another. You are beautiful. Already the short contact with you has made me fall in love. I love you. I could give up blood but I could not go another day without you near me and I don’t even know your name.”

“I’ve met a few others, vampire, but I never felt the human connection like I do with you. Let’s not masturbate. Let’s make love. Names do not matter, what we feel does.”

“Si, amor mío.”

“Si.”

 They took off all their clothes and he entered her. They felt a peace and pleasure that the disease had taken from them. Her vagina was tight, reminding him of the young girls he once made love to. He remembered why sex was better than masturbating and the disease inside him enjoyed the feel of a vagina instead of a hand.

They had passionate sex for five minutes until Cortés and the young but old Spanish girl both came and both felt satisfied.

He knew they would have to do it again but it was ok, he felt in his heart he would never tire of making love to this beautiful vampire and he could finally live in peace without God or his humanity.

Him and her could just be.

She put her head on the crook of his chest and smiled. He looked in her eyes and smiled back. There was something special about them. He would have felt connected to her even as a human. A primal strong connection.

He put his hand through her hair, “I will love you for eternity.”

 “I will too, amor mío. I don’t feel the need to masturbate or suck anyone’s blood right now, the warmth of your love and semen inside me quenches my blood thirst.”

“Si, mi señora. ”

“My life as a human was hard too; I was abandoned and have always felt alone. I’ve been searching for a love like this for a long time.”

“I felt the same, that is why I joined the Church. Loneliness is the worst pain. Why did you feel so alone when you were human? Who abandoned you?”

“There was a loss I had felt for centuries. It was the loss of a family member. I finally feel some peace about it, now that I found you.”

“Who was your family? We have the same dialect from Spain, maybe I knew them long ago” Cortés asked, though, he was more preoccupied with the future as he pictured a blissful eternity with the girl.

He thought of even starting a family, wondering if they could even have a demon child.

She smiled and with a tint of sadness she said, “My mother died in Toledo when I was young. I was a bastard. My father was named Cortés; I heard he went to Huelva and, from there, to the new world but was never found. It is ok; I found you.”

She smiled and kissed his breast where his heart beat the diseased blood through out his body. The peace he felt was gone as she held him closer.

He would not tell her, he couldn’t. She looked too happy and he could not break her heart again. He was going to suffer for all of his sins for eternity.

He held back tears as she smiled and bit into Cortés' chest needing to feed the baby that was forming inside of her.

***

Christoph Paul is the lead singer & bass player for the rock band The Dionysus Effect who have just released their debut album—go listen to it!, the EIC of CLASH Books, and an award-winning author who likes to write weird as hell horror and cute as hell rom-coms.