It's coming

We will go hunting this evening. My hunger is too great. Master hasn't allowed me to feed in awhile. I am tired of behaving, being obedient. I want to rant, rave, scream! Bubbling just under the surface is a massive hunger, pleading with my sanity to let it loose. Oh, to run my nails over skin, feeling for a major artery. To reach over and kiss that tender soft covering. Brushing my lips across, feeling my prey's body arch and hear them softly moan. Not fully knowing how far I will take them. Smelling the excitement and fear coming out of every pore. Teasing myself in anticipation for the feasting. Forget about donors or volunteers, they don't taste right. I crave the raw, evil that can only come from night's host. They have decided to enter into our domain, they beg to be drained.