Demon, Servant, Lover

Do you know who’s willing to die for you? Are any of them worthy? Would they defend you against any odds? Could they hold back 100 raging men? 1000 all packed into one? Could they kill for you without thought? Without mercy? Relentlessly till the task was done? Can you really say anyone could? Would any woman be willing to risk that much? Her life? Her very soul? Just to protect you. When they face the beast eye-to-eye, blinding red fury, blood on its hands, death on it breathe, an inhuman growl from its lips, muscles tense ready to attack. Who would stand and fight? Do you know? I know her, a woman who, if for no reason other than her honor, would face the beast, stare it down. She would slay it. Would she show fear? Never. Would she falter? She could hold fast against any foe. How? You ask well, underneath the honor, underneath the mask of cool and calm deep inside, her heart rages with a fury unmatched by heaven, hell, or anything between. The gods themselves fear her. 2000 years of bloody history, the Vikings called it the berserker rage. Every day she holds it in, forces it down, slowly, the bonds straining and snapping, the beast, a little more free every day. Soon life, honor and justice will mean nothing. Only through bloodshed and death will they be forgiven and will she be reborn. Of course there is the other way, force her rage to be used for love, for passion, for something that goes deeper than bloodiness and laws. Let her show you a passion, a love beyond any you have ever known. No man or women could ever compare. Sweet, pure love coursing through every vein in your body. Pressed close, held tight, her claws bite deep into the flesh, blood runs freely, her teeth sink deep into the supple neck, rich dark warm liquid fills her mouth and she drinks, chokes, coughs, she pulls away for a minute, it's like a strong liquor, the addictive blood burns more than any before, her mind forces her back down and she drinks again. She drinks again, but this time she gets her fill and more. Head spinning, heart pounding faster then ever before, the next wave of attacks finds her on the floor, sweat and blood pooled together all around her, she squeezes with all her might holding tight, yet deeper it goes. Her voice cracks she can stifle her screams no more, you moan with pleasure you've never felt before. Again and again the hours pass, the rooms fly by. Holding tightly everything disappears; you open your eyes the end is near. You both tense, your love flows like a wild river. You shake, tremble, shiver, you cant move, cant speak. There lying next to you she kisses your cheek, again she asks, you can take no more? As you drift to sleep, strong arms wrapped around her tight, her sweet siren voice whispers sleep well my dear we can continue tonight. Her rage subsides for now but there will be other nights, passion, flowing like the blood on which she survives. Forever she serves you, now her rage becomes love, never will there be any other. Your nights forever, now full of pleasure. Yes I know that woman and she already loves you... imagine when you love her back...