Feature Writer: mypenname3000 /
Feature Title: The Vampire’s Kiss 4 TO 6 /
Copyright: © 2015 by mypenname3000 /
Story Codes: M/F, F/F, Consensual, Romantic, NC, Hypnosis, Magic, Lesbian, Bisex, Paranormal, Vampires, Cuckold, Incest, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Orgy, Harem, Interracial, Oral, Anal, Lactation, Clergy, Violence /
Synopsis: Damien and Abigail, a pair of vampire hunters, are at the center of a contest between Aurora, an angel, and a Jezebel, a demon /
The Vampire’s Kiss
Chapter 4: Slut on the Altar
The metal door boomed shut behind Abigail D’Angelo. The room was pitch-black. Her naked feet flexed on the cold concrete. She didn’t mind the cold or the dark. She could see. Everything was painted in hues of blue in the absent of light.
This was her room now. Her Sire’s orders.
Abigail felt the oppression of the sun outside the room and the walls of Faust Tower in downtown Chicago. She curled down naked on the floor, her clothing having been stripped away by Faust, the vampire who Sired her, the moment she arrived before she was shoved into here. She curled up on her side, her arm acting as a pillow.
And closed her eyes.
Damien’s face filled her mind as she sank into sleep. I let him die. There was no way for him to get the keys.
That saddened her. It was her Sire’s will for Damien to die by sunlight, but the human part of Abigail loved her husband. If she was still human, guilt would have clouded her mind and kept sleep away.
She plunged into her dreams.
Abigail watched herself stalking through the cafeteria, moving on the balls of her feet, crossbow in hand. It was … surreal to the vampiress. She sat on one of the cafeteria tables. Her Sire, Faust, watched in the shadows behind the Dream-Abigail as the still-human hunter scanned the darkened room for the vampire.
An exhilaration stirred through Abigail as she watched Faust stalk her dream self. Abigail squeezed her thighs together. Metal chains clinked. They were wrapped around her naked body, made of black iron pitted with blood and rust.
Faust moved, shadow-walking as he crept up on Dream-Abigail. It was his vampire gift. Abigail hadn’t learned what hers was yet. Every vampire had one. Shadow-walking was a powerful ability. Faust would melt into the shadows and then step out of another one.
He grew closer to the oblivious Dream-Abigail. The real Abigail watched, remembering how tense she was as she stalked through the cafeteria. Then Faust appeared before Dream-Abigail. She fired her crossbow bolt, but he vanished back into the shadows and appeared behind her. The real Abigail’s heart beat faster as she watched her dream self fight.
“I am good,” Abigail purred. Faust constantly was forced to dive into the shadows by her dream self’s attacks. “Not better than Sire, but I was amazing.”
Abigail remembered the exhilarating terror of the fight mixed with the slow realization that this vampire wasn’t newly turned but experienced. Faust wasn’t a vampire for Abigail to tackle without Damien for back up.
Vials of holy water smashed on tables. Crossbow bolts twanged through the dark. Faust danced through the shadows, moving with the grace of a vampire. The real Abigail licked her lips, her nipples aching as the climax of the fight drew closer.
Faust ripped the crossbow from Dream-Abigail’s hand before seizing her throat. Abigail’s own throat tightened, remembering her Sire’s crushing grip choking off her air. The vampiress smiled as the dream version of herself ripped out a silver knife and stabbed it into her Sire’s thigh.
“I shouldn’t be happy about hurting Sire,” Abigail whispered. “Even if the knife hadn’t done anything permanent.”
“You should be proud,” a cold, sultry voice hissed.
A third Abigail appeared, naked and predatory. Her face had a shadowed cast, her lips bright-red with blood. More blood splattered her naked body, the coppery scent exciting the real Abigail. Hunger burned in Vampiress-Abigail’s eyes.
She was a true hunter, far beyond the human version that was slammed to the ground by Faust, pinned by his strong grip.
“No,” Dream-Abigail croaked as she struggled for life.
That’s when I knew I was dead. That I was too weak to stop Sire.
Vampiress-Abigail strolled around Faust and Dream-Abigail struggling on the ground. Clothing tore. Dream-Abigail was flipped onto her stomach, the cement cold on her tits. Her jeans were ripped off, baring a curvy ass prodded by Faust’s hard cock.
“This is where he made us weak,” Vampiress-Abigail hissed. “We were strong before.”
“We lost,” the real Abigail pointed out.
Faust thrust into Dream-Abigail’s asshole as his teeth buried into her neck. The real Abigail shuddered, her body remembering the moment of duel penetration—hot cock reaming her asshole, sharp teeth piercing her neck.
“Yes,” sighed Dream-Abigail as Faust’s vampire venom drugged her body. “Oh, yes.”
The real Abigail’s eyes fluttered. It had been ecstasy when her Sire fucked her ass and drank her blood. The pleasure had been so intense as she grew weaker and weaker. Her vision had fuzzed. The pleasure had only increased as he sucked out her blood.
Her asshole had gripped Faust’s cock. Burning, painful pleasure radiated from her bowels, mixing with the ecstasy of his bite. As her blood pumped out of her body, her orgasm had built and built until it exploded through her. Her asshole had writhed about Faust’s thrusting dick.
“So good,” moaned Dream-Abigail as her body shuddered its last convulses while Faust flooded her asshole with his cum, beginning the process of turning her into a vampiress.
“Whore,” Faust growled then spat on Dream-Abigail’s face.
“He made us his,” Abigail moaned, her hand touching her cheek. Her Sire rose from Dream-Abigail’s corpse, his cum leaking out of her asshole. “He gifted us with immortality.”
“He made us his slave,” spat Vampiress-Abigail as she scrubbed at her cheek. Then she seized the chains wrapped tight about the real Abigail’s naked body. “Pathetic. You submitted.”
“He’s my Sire.”
“He’s our enemy.” Vampiress-Abigail straddled the real Abigail’s waist, their naked breasts pressing together. The blood splattering Vampiress-Abigail’s body smeared on the real Abigail. “You need to break free.”
“Why would I want to?”
“Revenge.” Vampiress-Abigail savored the word. “For our murder. For our enslavement. For our love.”
Vampiress-Abigail kissed the real Abigail. She moaned into the kiss, savoring the coppery blood on Vampiress-Abigail’s lips.
For a single moment, Abigail tried to break out of her iron chains. But they were too strong, crushing her, driving her back into submission. Vampiress-Abigail hissed in frustration and slid off the real Abigail.
“Stop being weak, bitch. Be strong.”
Abigail looked down at her chains. “No one’s strong enough to break these chains.” Vampiress-Abigail sneered. “You were strong before. Remember the strength that drove you into your High School at eighteen to face your first vampire.”
Jezebel the demon floated through the Ether, the reality that separated Life from Beyond. From here, demons and angels could affect the lives of mortals. She hovered around Father Augustine, the chaplain to a pair of vampire hunters.
Father Augustine was important. He would protect a valuable client. The demon merely had to finish corrupting him.
He was a priest, a shaman. He had sworn the sacred oaths, giving him power over monsters and the undead. His prayers helped to armor Damien and Abigail D’Angelo, the Knights Venator that hunted vampires with Father Augustine. His power was so attractive to Jezebel, and if she could corrupt him in the sanctum of his church, his soul would crack.
And she would fill it.
The priest pulled his parish van into Our Lady of Heaven, the Catholic church for the small town of Pingree Grove outside of Chicago. He had driven from Santa Fe with the weapons and equipment stored in the back.
He wasn’t alone. The weapon of Jezebel’s corruption—a runaway girl, barely eighteen, named Joy—was with him. She was the priest’s slut. He had dominated her and claimed her fully as his thanks to a few interventions from Jezebel.
“So this is it?” Joy asked. “Where you will teach me to fight evil?”
“Yes,” the priest grinned as he stared at her lush thighs revealed by her small shorts. “And you will repay me.”
“I will, Father,” she nodded, her nipples hard.
Jezebel smiled as the final instrument of her plan walked up, a tartan skirt swirling about her naked thighs—Mary Daniels. A young woman so corrupted by sin, Jezebel didn’t even have to nudge her on this path.
“Hi, Father,” a voice purred as Father Hyrum Augustine climbed out of the van, tired after the long drive. “I’m glad you’re here. I was so naughty last night. I need to confess all. My. Sins.” Her last three words were punctuated by her breathy passion.
A shudder ran through the priest—Mary Daniels, the source of all his temptations. The first time he fucked Joy, it was the bleached-blonde creature strutting before him he had imagined. Mary was a coquettish eighteen-year-old, far too aware how her tight, youthful body made men ache. Her breasts were small points in her tight boob tube and her short, pink-and-black tartan skirt swirled about her bare thighs.
They were tan and perfect.
The little whore tempts me with sin. Father Augustine’s cock swelled to a full mast beneath his black cassock.
“I just returned from a long trip,” Father Augustine said, trying to fight his sin. Women always tempt men with their filthy bodies. She is just as much a whore as Joy.
“But … what if I were to die without confessing all my dirty, wicked sins.” Mary’s nipples were hard against her boob tube.
The little strumpet tempts me. Her wickedness knows no bounds. I should bend her over the altar and fuck her.
“Father?” Joy said, walking around the van holding his duffel bag and her backpack. “Where would you like this?”
“She’s a … volunteer,” Father Augustine quickly said. “She’ll be helping out around the church in exchange for a roof and food. She is … most unfortunate.”
“How wonderfully generous of you, Father,” Mary purred, her blue eyes twinkling. “Why don’t you unlock the church, and I’ll wait in the confession box for you.”
Wicked harlot. She wants to make me hard again and leave the church without satiating what she aroused. The priest glanced at Joy. An idea crossed his mind.
“Very well, child,” Father Augustine said, pulling out his keys from a pocket. He walked to the church’s side door and unlocked it. “Wait inside. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Father,” grinned Mary.
She spun, her skirt flaring up, flashing the bottoms of her asscheeks and a hint of pink, frilly panties before she marched in. Father Augustine’s cock ached harder. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he watched her hips sway.
“Wow,” Joy whispered. “What a whore.”
“She’s just like you,” Father Augustine growled. He turned and pinched Joy’s hard nipple through her blouse. “You’ll be quiet when you follow me into the confessional booth. You will kneel and you will suck my cock while I listen to her filthy sins.”
“Yes, Father,” gasped Joy, her eyes wide, her lips oh, so moist.
“Good, my cottage is back here. You will be sleeping in there from now on.”
Joy nodded and he let go of her nipple. Her thighs squeezed tight together. The little whore was wet, eager to give into her sins and tempt him into fornication. The memory of her hot, silky, wet flesh wrapped about his cock shuddered through the priest.
Father Augustine led the whore to his cottage while thoughts of Mary danced in his head. She was bent over the altar, her skirt sliding up and exposing her naked pussy. For once, the little whore would pay for leading the Father into sin.
For a moment, Father Augustine thought he heard a wicked laugh drift through his ears.
After deposing his duffel bag and Joy’s backpack in his small, austere bedroom—a small bed, white comforter, nightstand, crucifix on the wall, and a single photo of his dead sister—the priest strode back to his church. His dick ached. He fought the urge to squeeze himself.
“To be a hunter of evil,” Father Augustine said, “you must be aware of your surroundings and know how to move undetected.”
“Yes, Father,” Joy said. “I will do my best to follow after you in silence and relieve the sinful desires that whore stirred in you.”
Father Augustine smiled. “Exactly. For what is woman’s place?”
“On her knees, Father,” Joy answered.
“Sweet child,” he groaned.
The side door led into the worship hall of Our Lady of Heaven. It was ornate, covered in stained glass windows and dark-stained pews. A statue of the Virgin Mary cradling the infant Savior dominated the wall behind the altar.
He gazed at her. The only woman who wasn’t a whore in the history of mankind.
Father Augustine crossed himself—Joy clumsy copied. Then, his heart thudding, he marched to the back where the confessionals were. One had the curtain drawn, the sandal-clad feet of Mary pocking out the bottom. Her toes were painted bright pink, attracting his attention in the gloom.
Joy padded quietly behind Father Augustine while his steps boomed through the empty hall and echoed back and forth. Mary’s toes curled and then shifted as he approached. The priest pictured her in there squirming, her panties wet with her sinful juices as she knelt on the bench and feigned penitence.
No woman is ever penitent for their sexual sins.
Father Augustine opened the door to the confessional and sank down on the hard, wooden bench. Joy knelt before him, squeezing in as he shut the door. His legs were spread wide, his knees touching both sides of the confessional as Joy lifted up his cassock, her hands soft as they reached his underwear. He opened the privacy screen.
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” purred Mary, pride filling her voice. “It has been four days since my last confession.”
“Yes, Child,” Father Augustine said, fighting off his pleasure as Joy sucked his cock into her mouth.
Warm, wet, hot paradise surrounded him. Joy sucked and swirled her tongue, her hand caressing his balls. The priest stared at Mary through the grill, her hands out of sight, her cheeks red. She shifted on the bench, letting out a sigh.
“I was so wicked last night, Father,” Mary gushed. “I tried to be pure. I tried not to sin with boys. I tried so hard. But I couldn’t fight it.”
Of course you couldn’t, slut. “Go on.”
Joy sucked harder. The priest’s eyes squeezed shut at the bliss radiating from his cock.
“It was all Brad’s fault, really,” Mary panted, her voice growing thicker. “He asked me out to Risqué, the new club that opened in Chicago. I knew I would be wicked, but I couldn’t fight myself.”
“You have to try, Child,” Father Augustine groaned. You’re just a whore. A slut. You couldn’t fight your pussy. His hand squeezed Joy’s blonde hair, forcing her to take more of his cock into her mouth.
“I do,” lied Mary. “At the club, the music was pulsing and Brad gave me ecstasy. Everything was wonderful after that. All the colors were beautiful and I just wanted to dance and love him. I was so wild and free.”
“Drugs, too, Mary?” His dick throbbed in Joy’s mouth.
“I know. I’m so bad. But that’s not the worse. Brad took me to the back, hiked up my skirt, and slammed his dick into me.” A breathy shudder escaped her lips. “He was so thick inside of me. The ecstasy made it wild. I writhed against him, our hips pumping to the base of the dance music. All the colors shone around us.
“It was heavenly.”
Joy sucked harder. She bobbed her head, no longer being quiet as Mary described in detail her orgasm, the way she shuddered against Brad, and how his cum shot into her pussy. Father Augustine grit his teeth, fighting his cum as Mary kept talking.
“After he spilled his seed in me, Father,” moaned Mary, her voice breathless with arousal, her shoulders moving, her hands busy doing something.
The slut’s masturbating in confession. What a whore. She will have to be punished for this affront to the Lord’s house.
“Another girl came up. I didn’t know who she was, but she fell to her knees and … licked me clean.”
“You engaged in lesbian sex?” gasped the Priest, his dick erupting into Joy’s mouth. He groaned through clenched teeth as the pleasure rushed through his body. His head banged back against the wall while Joy swallowed every drop.
“I did, Father,” gasped Mary, her body swaying. “I was so wicked. I came so hard on her lips. And when she finished, I kissed her, sharing the sexual fluids. We danced and ground on each other, and then I went down on her while all the guys watched.
“She tasted so spicy and delicious. I loved her, Father. I was so bad.” Her voice rose an octave. “I loved her so much. I shoved my tongue into her pussy. I licked her out and, oh, God, I made her cum so hard.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein,” panted Father Augustine as he watched Mary orgasm on her fingers.
“I was so wicked. I made her cum and I loved it, Father. I’m such a sinner.” Her eyes fluttered and she tossed back her head. “Such a wicked sinner.” Her breathing slowed. She let out a sigh and then lifted her right hand up, her fingers shiny in the dim light, and licked them clean. “Such a wicked sinner. What shall my penance be?”
Despite cumming, Father Augustine was still hard. He was a man approaching fifty, but in the last few days he had finally given into his sexual desires. Thirty years of abstinence gave him the stamina of a younger man.
Especially when a nubile eighteen year old just masturbated in the confessional while talking about her lesbian sin.
“This will require a serious penance, child,” Father Augustine panted. “More than any ‘our Fathers’ or ‘hail Marys’ can handle.” The priest stood up, opened the door, and slipped past Joy. He yanked open the curtain to Mary’s box. “Especially when you masturbated like a slut in my confessional.”
“Father,” gasped Mary as the priest yanked her out by her hair.
“It is time you learn how a whore relieves the sinful desires she arouses in a man with her deliberate, teasing ways.”
Joy peaked her head out and smiled as Father Augustine dragged Mary towards the altar. The priest smiled back at Joy, delight in the way she rubbed at the crotch of her shorts, trying to relieve her sinful ache.
Mary didn’t fight as Father Augustine pushed her into the altar. She bent over it, her bleached-blonde hair spilling across the pristine, white cloth trimmed in gold. Her delicious rear shook, her skirt hiking up to reveal the bottom curves of her ass. A tramp stamp of a winged heart decorated her lower back.
“Such a sinful, wanton child,” growled Father Augustine. “You came into a house of God dressed like a slut.”
“I am so sinful,” Mary moaned as she wiggled her hip. “Give me penance, Father. I need it. I need your strong hand to keep me from sin.”
Father Augustine flipped up her skirt. She wore a pair of pink panties, the legbands and waistband frilled with lace. The skimpy cloth was cut high in the back, revealing the bottom halves of her smooth, bubbly ass. The crotch pressed tight to her pussy, stained dark with her excitement and molding to her flushed pussy.
“These are the panties you wear in a house of God?” he roared, ripping the skimpy things down her thighs, exposing her flush, shaved vulva. Her slit was virginal tight, betraying her whorish nature.
“I am so wicked,” she moaned.
His hand cracked down on her ass. The slap echoed through the near empty church, the excellent acoustics echoing it back over and over. Mary moaned as her ass reddened. She wiggled again, her excitement building.
“I’m so sorry for being sinful, Father,” she lied. Father Augustine knew she lied.
They are all sluts. Joy, Mary, Britney, and even Abigail. I wouldn’t be surprised if she whored herself out while visiting her family, leaving Damien and myself to hunt alone. I doubt her mother was even sick.
Father Augustine smacked his hand down hard on Mary’s ass, savoring the way her cheeks jiggled as he imagined Abigail bent over the altar. Her ass always looked amazing in the tight jeans and fatigues she wore on the hunt. Her red hair made her vivacious.
They are all sluts.
The feminine laughter echoed through his ears. He glance at Joy. She sat on a pew, her eyes wide with rapture as she watched. She hadn’t laughed. Father Augustine shook his head and cracked his hand down on Mary’s ass again.
“You’re just a whore.”
“I am,” Mary moaned. “Spank the sin out of me, Father.”
“There are not enough spankings in the world to make you pure, slut,” he growled as his hand fell again.
“No,” she groaned and shuddered, her hips shaking.
His hand fell again and again, her moans and the smacks echoing through the church. Father Augustine’s cock throbbed beneath his cassock, aching more with every fall of his hand. Mary’s ass burned bright red.
Red is a whore’s color.
“Father!” Mary groaned.
“It is not enough,” growled Father Augustine as he hiked up his cassock. His dick pressed against Mary’s naked thigh. “You have pulled me into sin. You filthy whore.”
“Yes!” screamed Mary as he thrust his cock into her hot pussy. Her sheath gripped him as he buried deep into her pussy.
He was violating the altar by fucking her. She drove me to this heinous sin with her whorish ways.
His balls slapped into her flesh as the priest pounded her, his grunts mixing with her moans as they chorused through the church. A dark, depraved hymnal of worship to sin. Father Augustine savored the obscene, wet noise of his cock thrusting in and out of her wet depths.
“That’s it, whore,” he growled. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I did,” moaned Mary. “I’ve been burning for weeks to be fucked by you, Father. You are so sexy. Oh, I’ve been so wicked just so I had the juiciest sins to confess to you.”
“I knew you were a temptress given flesh,” he snarled.
Her pussy was tight and hot. Father Augustine shuddered and groaned as he took her harder and harder. Her pussy was so juicy, so delicious. She drove him wild as she bucked and rocked against him. He grit his teeth as his balls tensed.
“I’m going to cum in you, whore,” he growled. “It would serve you right to be bred, but you are such a slut I imagine you are on birth control.”
“I am, Father,” she moaned. “Spill your seed into my cunt. Please. I want to feel it in me all day long.”
Her whorish words shuddered through the priest. He closed his eyes as he slammed into Mary, imagining it was Abigail’s married cunt wrapped about his cock for that one instant. His balls boiled. His cum erupted.
He filled her cunt with jizz.
Jezebel shuddered as she came on her fingers. Dark cracks fissured the father’s soul as he soiled the blessed altar of his church. His seed erupted into the slut’s cunt and dribbled out onto the altar, their sexual fluids staining the pristine cloth.
The demon entered the cracks, possessing Father Augustine. She drank in the last dregs of his climax as she worked her changes in him. The priest ripped his cock out of Mary as her phone chirped. The slut smiled as she pulled up her panties.
“Mmm, that was great, Father Augustine,” purred Mary as she wiggled her hips. “I have to run. Britney’s heading over to pick me up, but I’ll be back to morrow to confess the sins I committed today.”
“Yes,” Father Augustine groaned as he shuddered. He gripped the altar as the last vestiges of good inside of him warred with Jezebel.
Jezebel batted the good aside. He had brought this upon himself and he no longer had the strength to resist her. His shamanistic powers were twisted towards hell as he sat on the altar and shuddered, his eyes fixed on Mary’s ass, still lusting for the girl.
I’ve fucked Mary. But there’s others. Young, busty Britney, Abigail, Mrs. Anders, Mrs. Lawson…
His lusts for the women of his parish aided Jezebel and she finished twisting him from the holy to the profane. No longer a holy shaman but a dark warlock.
“Later slut,” Mary giggled to Joy as she strolled by. “You should suck his cock clean. My pussy taste amazing.”
Jezebel laughed as Joy stood up and came closer. She was primed and ready to be seized by the priest’s power and to be invested as the priest’s weapon. Jezebel seized control of Father Augustine’s body and breathed life to his cock.
The church’s door boomed shut behind Mary.
“Mount my dick, slut,” Father Augustine found himself growling to Joy as he sat on the altar. He had profaned it with his sin. That excited him. He stroked his hardening cock. “It is time to train you to fight evil.”
“Yes, Father,” moaned Joy as she wiggled her shorts and panties down her hips.
The feminine laughter echoed loudly through his mind as Father Augustine seized Joy and pulled him onto his cock. The moment she sank down on his girth, his dick erupted into her. Joy shuddered, her eyes growing wide as more than cum boiled out of the priests balls.
She is yours, the feminine voice whispered. And so can Abigail, Mary, and the others.
“How?” croaked Father Augustine as Joy continued sliding up and down on his cock, lost to the throes of her orgasm.
Britney Lawson’s phone chirped. Mary had answered. Britney read the text: “Pick me up at our lady.”
Britney grinned. Her Master needed to feed when he woke up. It was her duty as his Thrall to provide for his needs. The eighteen-year-old former virgin shuddered, imagining her whorish, best friend lying upon the bed as Damien drank her blood.
Britney almost orgasmed.
Britney walked out of her bedroom, a suitcase packed with her clothing, the keys to the car her parents gave her in her hand. Both her parents had left for work. They had no idea their innocent daughter had been claimed by a vampire.
The busty girl’s imagination was filled with Damien taking her virginity as he drank her blood. Her nipples ached as her breasts were full of milk. She wanted to nurse her Master after he had drained every drop of blood from Mary.
She’ll have one amazing orgasm before she dies, Britney smiled. She deserves it.
It always astounded Britney that her best friend was such a whore. But, despite that, Britney had continued hanging out with Mary, ignoring all her friend’s teases about still being pure and resisting Mary’s every attempt to hook her up with a stud to pop her cherry.
Or to let Mary do it herself.
The idea of sleeping with Mary no longer disgusted Britney. She was free of morality now. Damien had unshackled her when he fed her his vampiric blood and made her into his Thrall.
Britney smiled as she stepped into the sunlight. She glanced at Damien’s house next door and smiled. She would get her Master food and tonight they would head to Chicago to rescue Abigail. Britney wasn’t sure why she knew Damien’s plans, she just did.
They were connected. She was his servant. Maybe I need to know his desires so I can fulfill them. Right now, he needs more blood to be strong.
Britney climbed into her car and drove to Our Lady Queen of Heaven to pick up Mary.
The drive didn’t take long. Pingree Grove wasn’t a large town. Technically, it was still a village despite the rapid growth in the new suburbs taking over what had been farmland when Britney was a child. Her drive took her past new construction.
Yesterday, it would have annoyed her. Today, she was beyond such things.
I’m Damien’s thrall. His nubile sex slave.
Britney had fantasized about serving a man, especially Damien. She had secretly read a few romance stories that bordered more on the erotica, all about sexual domination. They had excited her at times, and she had rubbed her virgin pussy while picturing Damien taking her in hand.
But now she didn’t need safewords with her Master like the women in her story. She was his. It was so wonderful to surrender to his desires.
A minute later, she pulled into the parking lot of Our Lady of Heaven. Her eyes narrowed at the crucifix prominently displayed. It was an image of faith. Her skin prickled. The church was blessed. Holy.
Britney’s eyes burned and she looked away.
Britney was glad Mary waited outside in her pink-and-black tartan skirt and half-unbuttoned blouse.
“Is this text true?” Mary asked the moment she climbed in.
Before answering, or even letting Mary safely buckle in, Britney jammed the accelerator. She had to get away from the church. The tires squealed as she drove the car through the parking lot towards the street.
“Damn,” Mary gasped, grabbing the handle above her door. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m just eager for our threesome,” Britney answered, her pussy itching. It was partly true.
“You are not shitting me, right?” Mary moaned. “What happened to uptight, virginal Britney.”
“Damien popped my cherry.”
“Damien?” Mary eyes goggled. “You actually seduced him away from his wife. Damn, I knew he was a pig. All men are. Just like Father Augustine.”
“He is not a pig,” hissed Britney. “He is my Master.”
“Master?” Mary grinned. “Ooh, this is getting so kinky. Is that who we’re having a threesome with?”
“Damn, I would have fucked a bum off the street if it meant I had a chance at your sweet body, Brit.” Mary licked her lips, then quickly reached out to touch Britney’s bare thigh.
A hot rush shot up Britney’s leg.
“Wow, this better be happening,” groaned Mary. “I need something juicy to confess to Father Augustine again. He fucked me hard.”
Britney looked at her friend. “What? You fucked the priest?”
“Mmm, he shot a big load in me as I bent across the altar. I finally got him.” Mary shuddered, her hand sliding higher. “And now I’m landing you and Damien. I never thought he looked at other women than his wife. I’ve tried to seduce him.”
“What?” Britney gasped, her hands tightening the steering wheel. Mary’s hand his higher. “You knew I had a crush on him.”
“And?” Mary’s hand reached Britney’s panties. “Damn, I am so excited to finally touch you. I never wanted to try too hard to seduce you. Didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“So you tried to seduce Master?”
“Master,” purred Mary. “You make that sound so natural and sexy.”
“I’m his Thrall,” Britney answered. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.
“Thrall? Is that, like, sex slave?”
Britney nodded. She gasped as Mary’s finger slid into Britney’s panties and rubbed at her pussy and her blonde curls. She slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop at an intersection as Mary probed a finger deep into her cunt.
“You are wet,” grinned Mary. “Do you have cum in you?”
Mary pulled out her finger and grinned at the spunk and pussy cream staining her digit. She brought it to her lips and sucked it into her mouth. Britney licked her lips and squeezed her thighs together. That is so hot.
“Want to taste Father Augustine’s cum?” Mark asked, spreading her thighs and revealing her drenched, pink panties.
“No,” Britney hissed in revulsion. “You have to take a shower first and clean your pussy out. Master deserves fresh, untainted pussy.”
“Did he send you out to bring him back another cunt to fuck?” Mary purred, rubbing her pussy through her panties.
“Yes,” Britney answered. Even if he didn’t explicitly tell me, I know he needs her blood.
“Damn,” panted Mary. “Drive faster.”
Two minutes later, Britney pulled her car into the D’Angelos’ driveway. Mary grinned as she climbed out of the car, her skirt slipping down her thighs and covering up her messy panties. Britney licked her lips.
Master will love draining her dry.
“There’s a bathroom on the first floor,” Britney reported. “Master’s sleeping.”
“Wore him out, slut?” asked Mary as Britney led her into the house through the open garage.
“No. he had a … rough night.” The memory of Damien hanging from the manacles, his flesh burned by the rising sun sent a stab of anger through her.
Britney pointed to the bathroom. “You can shower in there.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?” Mary asked, pulling off her top and baring her perky tits. Her pink nipples were hard, the right one pierced and the left one tattooed with the outline of a red heart surrounding her areola.
Britney licked her lips.
“We haven’t showered together since we were twelve,” pleaded Mary. “I promise not to bite.”
“I don’t mind being bit,” Britney admitted and pulled her top off, freeing her large, milk-laden tits.
“That’s the spirit.” Mary dropped her skirt and panties as she walked into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind. The shower hissed on as Britney stripped.
The two blondes stepped into the shower, the water matting their hair down. Britney’s natural gold darkened beneath the spray. Mary grinned as Britney noticed the silver ring piercing her clit and the tattoo of a lipstick kiss on her pudenda.
“I didn’t know you had these,” Britney said, tugging on the clit piercing.
“You’ve been afraid to see me naked,” Mary purred as she grabbed the shower massager and brought it between her legs. “Let me get rid of all of Father Augustine’s nasty cum so you’ll play with my pussy.”
“Yes,” Britney smiled, her nipples aching.
Mary leaned over as she rubbed the shower massager between her thighs, the water cascading down her legs, and sucked Britney’s right nipple between her lips. Britney shuddered as her breast milk flooded out into Mary’s mouth.
“Mmm,” Mary groaned, licking her lips. “It’s sweeter than I thought it would be.”
“Have you been dying to be nursed,” Britney asked, running her hands through Mary’s bleached blonde hair.
“Yes,” groaned Mary, hips undulating. Her pussy was clean; now she masturbated with the shower massager.
Britney groaned as Mary hungrily sucked on Britney’s nipple. Milk flowed into Mary’s mouth, shooting tingles down to Britney’s own pussy. Mary moaned as she suckled, her lips hallowing. Britney held her friend to her breast.
“Oh, I wish we had done this before,” moaned Britney. “I was such an idiot. We could have been having lots of fun.”
“So much fun,” groaned Mary before she sucked Britney’s other nipple into her mouth.
Mary shuddered as she nursed. The shower water hissed as it massaged her pussy. She suckled harder and harder as her moans grew louder. Britney shuddered, her pussy clenching every time her friend nursed.
“That’s it. You hungry, naughty girl,” moaned Briney. “Suckle from Momma’s big tits.”
The words made her feel even naughtier. Though they were the same age—Mary was only older by three months and seven days—the fantasy of nursing Mary like her own daughter made Britney’s hips shake.
She itched to touch her pussy and cum.
“Drink your fill. Drink all of Momma’s milk. Mmm, yes. That’s it. You’re such a hungry girl.”
Mary shuddered, suckling harder. A low, whining moan escaped Mary’s throat, growing louder and louder. Her lips popped off Britney’s nipple as she quaked. She leaned against Britney, and the busty girl held Mary upright as her orgasm swept through her.
“You fucking slut,” Mary panted between gasping breaths. “That Momma stuff was so hot. Mmm, you’re my busty, sexy Momma. I loved your milk.”
Mary pressed the shower head between Britney’s thighs. Britney gasped, her eyes shooting wide open as the dozens of small streams of water shot against her pussy, massaging her. She quaked as Mary latched onto Britney’s nipple, suckling hard again.
“Yes, yes, drink my milk and make Momma cum,” groaned Britney. “That’s it. Be a good girl and make your Momma cum.”
Mary rubbed the shower head up and down Britney’s slit. Streams of water shot into her pussy, caressing the inside of her walls. Britney shuddered and grasped the shower bar with her right hand, her left stroking Mary’s bleached-blonde hair.
Britney’s back arched as the leisure increased. The water massage didn’t put out her fires in her pussy—it stoked them. She gasped and moaned, holding onto the shower bar with a death grip as her hips writhed.
“So good,” Britney moaned, letting the pleasure wash through her. “That’s it. Make Momma cum. Drink Momma’s milk and make Momma feel wonderful like a good girl.”
“Yes, Momma,” Mary purred as she switched nipples.
Britney shuddered as Mary suckled hard. Britney’s nipple shot bliss down to her pussy. The tingling bliss of the milk flowing from her nipple trigger her orgasm. Her moans echoed through the bathroom as the bliss rushed through her.
Juices squirted from her pussy and were washed away by the warm water caressing her. She shuddered, her vision fuzzing as she swayed. Mary’s left arm, wrapped around Britney’s waist, held her tight as the young woman quaked.
“Yes, Mary, yes,” gasped Britney. “Wow, oh, wow, that was good. I never knew you could do that with a shower massager.”
Mary giggled as she pulled it away. Milk gleamed white on her lips. “You never tried that before?”
Britney shook her head, then she leaned down and kissed her friend, delighting in her creamy treat. Mary’s wet body pressed against Britney, so slippery and lithe. Britney held her friend while dark thoughts bounced through her mind.
I can’t wait for Master to enjoy you.
The scent of hot pussy awakened the sleeping vampire.
Damien D’Angelo’s eyes opened as his nostrils flared. Britney’s sweet musk filled his nose, but a tart scent mixed with it. Another woman was in the house. His enhanced hearing heard the two sets of hearts beating beneath the giggle of feminine voices coming from below.
His hunger stirred. A living, beating meal had walked into his house. Who was she? Why was she here? Why had Britney let her in?
Damien sat up from the blood encrusted sheets. He glanced at the clock. He had slept for hours, but it was summer, and there were still hours more before he could head to Chicago and free his wife from Faust.
I should find a place to stage out of in Chicago.
The scent of tart pussy and the beat of a warm heart called to Damien. His hungers overwhelmed his need to rescue his wife. Britney and another morsel awaited him. His mouth hungered to feast on the fresh human. His cock hardened.
He could enjoy the woman in multiple ways.
Damien slipped off his bed and instinctively moved with a hunter’s grace, his feet not making a sound as he crossed the hardwood floors. He reached the stairs and peered down. The girls were in the living room watching TV and talking about the most inane things.
He swiftly moved down the stairs from the third floor to the first. He stepped into the living room. Both girls were naked. Britney lounged on the couch with Mary’s head in her lap, Britney idyll stroking Mary’s hair.
Britney smiled, her nipples hardening at the sight of Damien. “For you, Master,” she mouthed, a wicked grin crossing her lips. Milk beaded at her excited nipples, adding a creamy, sweet scent to the air.
“When is Damien going to wake up?” Mary groaned. “It’s been hours. I want to be fucked.”
“I’m awake now,” Damien growled.
Mary jumped, then gasped. “Damien.” Her blue eyes ran up and down Damien’s naked body. “Mmm, you are even more gorgeous than I imagined.”
Even before Damien became a vampire, he was at the peak of his physical shape—muscular, athletic, tall, broad-shouldered. His change only enhanced his natural physique. His cock ached before him as Mary spread her thighs on the couch, an open invitation.
“Did you bring her, slut?” Damien growled.
“I did, Master,” shuddered Britney. “I knew you would need her. Isn’t she delicious.”
“Yes, she is.” This close, Damien could smell Mary’s blood beneath her skin. His mouth watered and his fangs grew sharp.
“Enjoy her, Master.”
“Yes, enjoy me,” moaned Mary, her hands running up and down her spread-apart thighs, oblivious to the danger she was in.
Aurora the angel watched in horror as Damien moved to the couch and the innocent, relatively speaking, Mary.
Aurora wanted to cross over from the Ether and stop Damien from feeding. There has to be a way for me to keep Mary alive. “How do we keep Damien focused on killing Faust?”
“He can’t kill Mary,” Gabriel answered, the angel staring at his clipboard. “And the probability of that is 10%. Vampires have a hard time controlling their first few feedings. And once they kill, it goes to their head. He’ll be lost to the blood lust for weeks.” It was why most young vampires were easy to track down and kill.
“And Faust gets away,” Aurora groaned. “Again.” All because I failed to keep Damien and Abigail alive.
“Afraid so,” sighed Gideon. “This operation has not gone are way much at all. Using Damien as a vampire was a gamble anyways. We should alert Father Augustine through his prayers, make him suspicious. The Knights Venator can deal with Damien, and we’ll have to wait for another opportunity to take out Faust.”
“What about if Damien turns her?” Aurora asked.
“1%. The only reason he didn’t kill Britney was he knew her. He had watched her grow up next door. He cared for her. But Mary … she’s the girl that annoyed him with her blatant attempts at seduction. He won’t care about killing her.”
“Why wouldn’t he care about turning her?” Aurora demanded. “Most vampires turn a few others as sexual partners.”
Damien buried his face between Mary’s thighs and bit into her pudenda right on the kissing lips tattoo. Mary shuddered as the euphoric drug of Damien’s saliva entered her bloodstream. The vampire feasted on blood and pussy.
“He is too in love with Abigail and he has Britney for his sexual needs. It hasn’t even crossed his mind to turn Mary.”
How many more will die? “But if he does, he wouldn’t actually cross into the blood lust yet. It would give him time for control.”
Before Gabriel could finish, and without thinking, Aurora leaned over and touched Damien. He growled in pain at her touch as she whispered in his ear, “Turn her.”
“You intervened without permission,” gasped Gabriel. “Aurora, what have you done?”
Damien savored the rich, salty blood mixed with Mary’s tart pussy juices. The slut moaned as her body shook. Her eyes were wide, her lips quivering as the narcotic effect of his bite rushed through her body. Britney grinned, her fingers pulling on Mary’s nipples.
“Drain her dry, Master,” purred Britney. Her lips nipped Mary’s ear. “Doesn’t Master’s bite feel amazing?”
“Oh, god, yes,” Mary groaned, her thighs tightening on Damien’s head.
Damien licked up her slit, gathering blood and pussy juices. Her reached her clit and flicked it. Mary shuddered. Her hips undulated, griding against him as fresh trickles of blood reached his mouth, coating his tongue.
He thrust his tongue deep into her hot depths, gathering up her pussy juices. The tart cream was almost as good as her blood. He drank it down as she writhed and bucked, smearing her hot flesh against his hungry lips.
Damien bit into her labia.
“Yes,” gasped Mary. “Oh, fuck, what is he doing to me, Britney?”
“Feeding,” Britney purred. She had slid down so Mary’s head pillowed on Britney’s lush breasts. Britney’s lips nibbled on Mary’s ear. “He’s going to drink your blood and shower you in ecstasy.”
Mary groaned. “I don’t care what he’s doing to me. I feel … wonderful. I’m floating, Brit. Damn, what did you slip me? Oh, we need music. That would be wonderful.” Mary undulated, griding her pussy into Damien’s hungry mouth. “Love this high.”
“Just relax and enjoy.”
Damien grinned at his Thrall. Joy burned in Britney’s blue eyes as she pinched and rolled her friend’s nipples. He took another long lick up Mary’s pussy. Her blood was sweet. Her flesh warm. Inviting.
His hunger grew. The trickles of blood flowing from her bite marks on her pubic mound and labia barely satiated his hungers. His cock ached for her flesh.
Damien wanted to drain her dry.
There was a part of him that remembered being a vampire hunter, a part that urged him not to kill, but the little strumpet was right here. Wet, warm, full of blood, begging to be fucked and drained. She’ll cum so hard as I drain—
Pain flared across his temple.
… turn her…
“Master?” Britney asked.
Damien frowned. The voice sounded liked Abigail’s. If she cums as she dies, I can turn her. She came be … mine. My weapon against Faust.
“Don’t you want to drink her dry, Master,” Britney moaned, her lips nibbling now at Mary’s soft neck.
“Yes,” he growled.
Damien rose over Mary’s body. His telekinetic power—his vampiric gift—spread Mary’s pussy lips open and guided his cock into her pussy. It was strange feeling an invisible tough on his dick as he draped himself over her and lowered his body to hers.
His cock touched her bloody pussy. Mary gasped as he entered her tight, wet hole. Her pussy clenched down on his cock. The pleasure shuddered through him. He bared his fangs as he growled his pleasure.
“Right here, Master,” Britney moaned before kissing Mary’s neck right above her femoral artery.
The artery beat in Mary’s throat as his hips thrust his cock in and out of her cunt. Mary gasped and shuddered beneath him. Her blood called to him. He leaned down and kissed her throat, loving the flutter of her life beneath his lips.
“Fuck,” Mary gasped as her blood flooded his mouth. He sucked hard, letting it fill his mouth and drive his hips to fuck her even harder.
Mary spasmed beneath him, her body gripped by the ecstasy of his bite as her heart beat out her life, pouring it into Damien. His mouth drank it her salty life. He sucked hard, loving every drop of of her salty life. Blood leaked out and Britney cooed in delight, her lips kissing at his, gathering the spilled blood.
“So wonderful,” Britney gasped. “You taste amazing.”
“Good,” Mary gasped.
Her heart beat weaker as her head lolled back into Britney’s shoulder. Damien’s cock was gripped by her pussy. Mary gave one more buck as she headed into blood shock. She moaned as the ecstasy of being drained of every drop of her blood burst through her.
The slut came. Her pussy massaged Damien’s cock. Drunk on her blood, Damien slammed his dick into her pussy. His balls erupted. He flooded her pussy with blast after blast of his cum. The girl spasmed a final time and then let out a happy sigh as her heart beat its last as a living human.
Damien lifted his bloody lips, growling as his cock dumped a final blast of cum into Mary’s body. The change settled into the dead girl. Soon she would awaken, sired by Damien into unlife. Britney nuzzled at her friend’s neck, gathering up the last bit of blood dribbling out of Mary’s wounds.
“Did you kill her, Master?” shuddered Britney, her lips stained crimson.
“I turned her.”
Britney smiled. “How absolutely wonderful, Master.” She nuzzled Mary’s ear. “I’ll hold you until you wake up, then you can drink my blood. I bet you’ll love it as much as I will.”
Damien grinned at his Thrall and his Vampiress. They were his.
Abigail D’Angelo woke up naked on the concrete floor, alerted by the scraping of the metal door.
She gained her feet in an instant, her hunter instincts augmented by the changes to her body. She hissed at the three strong men that entered. They were naked and alive. Each was muscular, their cocks throbbing hard.
“We’re here to feed you, fangwhore,” the Black man growled, the largest of the three. His thick hand stroked his fat, ebony cock. “And fuck you like the filthy slut you are.”
Abigail hissed and threw herself at them.
Chapter 5: Feeding the Fangwhore
The angel Aurora trembled. Her wings fluttered. She had crossed over from the Ether into the material world and intervened on the vampire Damien D’Angelo, preventing him from killing the youthful Mary. Instead, the Angel twisted him to turn Mary into a vampire.
“It … it was the only way to keep him on track,” Aurora spluttered.
Gideon’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. The more scholarly angel swallowed. “I … I … you didn’t have permission for the intervention, Aurora.”
Aurora glanced at the vampire fucking Mary on the couch of his house, his lips sucking her blood. Mary would still die. I’ve condemned her to a life of undeath. I’ve chained her soul in the same prison that binds Damien.
Aurora wasn’t sure what had driven her to break the rules. She was normally such an obedient angel. But the last few weeks, working towards the plan of finally taking down one of the greatest threats to the mortal world had weighed on her. Faust Crespo, the vampire that had turned Abigail and unleashed her upon Damien was foul and loathsome. He had made deals with a filthy demon, buying protection and allowing his commercial empire to flourish while no mortal hunter, the Knights Venator, were allowed to hunt him.
But Heaven had finally found a way around the demon’s protections. When Faust sent into motion his plan of revenge on Damien and Abigail D’Angelo for killing numerous vampires Faust had sired, it gave Heaven their window.
And at every turn Aurora’s plan failed. She couldn’t stop Abigail from entering the high school and falling into Faust’s trap. She couldn’t prevent Damien from returning to his home and falling into Abigail’s trap. Now that Damien had been turned, the plan was tenuous at best. But his desire to reclaim his wife and avenge the cruelty Faust inflicted burned hot in the vampire.
But only so long as he didn’t fall into the pitfalls of a new vampire.
“If he killed Mary, more would have died,” Aurora pleaded to Gideon, desperate for justification. I had to do the right thing. I’m an angel. I don’t perform acts of evil. This had to be good. “This had to be the right thing to do. I saved lives.”
“But what about the consequences?” Gideon groaned. “You intervened without permission. Every time we intervene, a demon is allowed an equal intervention. You broke the rule. There is a demon out there that will use this to cause great harm.”
“But…” Aurora’s voice faltered. “I couldn’t let Faust get away. And … and … demons break the rule all the time. They intervene without permission. And we’re forced to clean up the mess, like with Faust.”
“But if we don’t follow the rules of creation, who will, Aurora?” Gideon pushed up his glasses. “We’re angels. We do not break the Covenant. We—”
“Aurora,” a commanding voice boomed around her, light flooding down from above. “Report for judgment.”
“But I was just doing the right thing,” Aurora hissed before she rose to Heaven.
The demon Jezebel shuddered as she lurked inside Father Augustine’s soul. The priest had given into his sin and had violate the sanctity of his church by fucking the young temptress, Mary Daniels, on the altar. That unholy act had cracked his soul open, allowing the demon to slip inside and possess him.
The demon had such wicked plans for the Father. I will twist you and make you an agent of the very thing you loathe, Father.
The priest enjoyed her presence inside his body. She gave him such stamina. Right now, he fucked Joy, the first of the woman to fall beneath his spell. She wouldn’t be the last. The priest corruption would spread.
Jezebel could feel the delight of Father Augustine ramming his cock into Joy’s asshole as she squirmed on the altar. It was like Jezebel had a dick of her own while possessing the priest. The demon drank in the priest’s pleasure, savoring the tight, hot grip of Joy’s greased asshole as Father Augustine fucked her hard.
“Let me feel that slutty hole cum on my cock,” the priest moaned.
Yes, hissed Jezebel in Father Augustine’s soul. Fuck the whore. Her body tempted you. She made you hard. You have no choice but to fuck her sinful body.
“Your body temped me, whore,” Father Augustine groaned. “You made me hard.”
“I’m so sorry, Father,” gasped Joy, the blonde shuddering as her orgasm built. Her asshole clamped down hard on the priest’s dick; Jezebel shuddered in delight. “Cum in me then teach me to fight evil.”
“Yes,” groaned Father Augustine. “I shall.”
You shall be my instrument to fight evil, groaned Jezebel, her soul consuming the bliss. The pressure built at the tip of the priest’s cock.
“You shall be my instrument to fight evil,” gasped the priest. “And more shall follow.”
Jezebel savored the priest’s wicked thoughts. Images of all the beautiful woman of his parish flashed through the priest’s mind: Abigail, Mrs. Lawson, her daughter Britney, Mary, Samantha, Mrs. Anders, and more. He wanted them all.
They all shall be yours. Especially Abigail.
“Hallelujah,” groaned the priest as he slammed his dick deep into Joy asshole.
Jezebel shuddered in Father Augustine’s soul as the priest climaxed in the whore’s asshole. The demon savored the powerful, explosive blasts of cum erupting out of the priest’s dick. Every blast sent a ripple of bliss through Father Augustine body and the demon’s soul.
“Yes, yes, yes,” gasped Joy. “Oh, thank you for coming in me. It’s so hot. I love it. I—”
For a moment, the world shuddered. The demon was rocked by the powerful, spiritual intercession that happened only a few miles away. An angel had intervened without the sanction of Heaven. Jezebel shuddered at the possibilities open before her.
I have free rein to do something so naughty, Jezebel gasped. Not waisting her opportunity, she dumped her power into the priest. He would be an even greater weapon than she could possibly have hoped for.
Abigail D’Angelo crashed into the large, Black man that had entered her bare room, the walls undressed cinder blocks and the floor a concrete slab, in the bowels of Faust Tower. The vampiress wasn’t afraid of the three men that had boldly walked into the room she had hid out the day since being brought to the room by her Sire, the vampire Faust.
They were here to feed her. She hungered for the blood roaring through their veins. Beneath the men’s hard muscles were networks of veins, arteries, and capillaries spreading that life-giving fluid through their bodies.
Abigail needed it. She hadn’t fed since turning her husband last night at Faust’s orders.
Despite the three men’s size—they were all powerfully built men and moved with the confidence of fighters—Abigail was unafraid. Even before becoming a vampire she would not have been afraid. Now that she had a vampire’s strength and speed, she knew she could take all three men. She was as fiery as her red hair. She never shirked from danger, not even in high school when she helped kill her first vampire.
That same vampire had been one of many that Faust had sired. Their deaths had triggered Faust’s plan to kill and turn Abigail, culminating in the dawn’s sun burning Abigail’s husband to a crisp. A part of Abigail mourned her husband. She loved him, but the bulk of her was under the compete domination of Faust.
She was his slave and would do anything for him.
Abigail’s sharp fingernails lunged for the Black man’s throat. A quick tear and his blood would gush out on the floor. A waste, but she had two other men to feed off. She needed to disable one of the men as fast as possible.
The Black man’s arm lashed out faster than a human should have reacted. He snagged her reaching hand and twisted, throwing Abigail into the bare, cinder block wall. She bounced off and landed on her feet in a low crouch.
“The fangwhore is feisty,” the blond man laughed, his voice thick with a German accent. He stroked his hard cock. “We are going to feed and fuck you hard.”
“So just be patient, darlin’,” the third man, his hair buzzed short like a soldier and his voice twanging like a man from Texas. “Don’t you fret. Your hot cunt will get a chance to enjoy all our cocks.”
“And your asshole,” laughed the Black man.
“If you want to fuck me and not die, then you better subdue me,” Abigail purred, growing excited at the prospect of sex and violence.
Her pussy ached. Her nipples were hard. The three men were gorgeous. Hard cocks jutted at her, full of blood. The salty musk of their precum filled her nose. All three men had a slightly different flavor.
Abigail licked her lips; she had a banquet to feast upon.
She feinted, slashing her sharp fingernails at the German. He moved his muscular leg back, pivoting to dodge her attack. She twisted away in the blink of an eye and threw herself at the Texan. She crashed into his muscular torso, her fingernails clawing at his chest. Long, bleeding trails covered his sculpted peck.
Her lips thirsted. She leaned in and licked up the bloody wounds, her teeth aching to sink into his throat and bleed him dry. His coppery blood warmed her tongue, but it was only an appetizer. She reached his neck and sank her teeth into his flesh.
“Damn,” the Texan moaned. “This fangwhore is one hungry vixen.”
Abigail’s pussy clenched as the hot, salty flood of jizz filled her mouth. It spilled over her lips in a gush, running down to her heaving breasts. Her dusky-pink nipples were covered in the vermilion as she feasted while she ground her hot cunt into his rippling abs. Her thighs wrapped tight around his waist as she fed.
“Enough of that, slut,” growled the Black man.
Abigail screamed as the Black man ripped her mouth away by her hair. He was strong. She hissed at him, bending her body, her breasts thrusting above her. She released her legs from the Texan and flexed her body, twisting in the air and slamming her thighs around the Black man’s head, griding her pussy into his face. Her breasts rubbed into stomach as her hands grasped his cock.
“Bitch,” the Black man moaned into her pussy.
Hissing in delight, Abigail brought his ebony cock to her lips. Her fangs sank into the tip. His moans of pains turned into grunts of delight as her vampire venom flooded the man’s blood stream. She sucked the tip of his dick, the salty precum and coppery blood mixing in her mouth.
Abigail bobbed her head as she hung up down, the Black man’s arms holding her while his thick lips and bold tongue licked through her pussy adorned with trimmed, fiery pubic hair. Her thighs kept a firm grip on his neck as she undulated. Her teeth nipped his cock, bringing more moans from his lip and more blood pumping into her hungry mouth.
How can he stay hard with his cock bleeding? Like air leaking from a punctured tire, his dick should have lost pressure and went limp.
But it didn’t. He stared hard and throbbing in her mouth.
Abigail really didn’t care why. She was drunk on blood. It was salty and delicious, feeding her hunger. Her fingernails clawed at the black man, bringing more blood welling. It dripped down his thighs and smeared in her hands.
“Look at that fangwhore feed,” whooped the Texan.
And why aren’t you dead? I ripped out your carotid artery.
A hot shudder ran through Abigail, driving away her puzzling thoughts. The Black man’s lips latched onto her clit. His teeth bit, shooting delicious pain through her body. Her pussy clenched as her sensitive bud was savaged. The blood filled her belly. She moaned about his cock as her orgasm rippled through her body and her juices squirted into the Black man’s face.
“The fangwhore just came,” growled the Black man. “Fuck, she’s sucking my cock so hard.”
“Flood her mouth,” the German laughed. “Give her more than blood to drink. A slut like her wants cum as much as blood.”
Abigail sucked hard on the cock in her mouth. Their words were so nasty. She loved them. The Black man nipped her clit hard. Her pleasure crashed through her again. She moaned about the Black man’s thick dick as her juices squirted into his hungry mouth. His cock throbbed in her mouth.
His cum erupted.
Salty, thick, delicious jizz. Abigail moaned as she drank it down mixed with the man’s blood. Her teeth nipped again as his cock flooded her mouth with cum. Her hips bucked, grinding her pussy hard into his lips as she swallowed down the delicious mix of flavors.
“Fuck,” the Black man grunted. “The fangwhore knows how to suck cock.”
“But can she fuck?” laughed the German.
“Let’s find out.” The Black man suddenly let go of Abigail.
As she came, her thighs relaxed. She gasped and twisted as she fell, managing to land on her hands and toes. She hissed, blood matting her breasts and face. More smeared across her hands, leaving bloody prints on the floor.
The Texan stroked his dick. Blood sheeted down his rippling chest to his stomach, but the wound no longer bled. He had somehow healed.
“Familiars,” Abigail hissed, realizing what the men were. Virgins who had been nearly bled to death by a vampire then fed the vampire’s blood. The ichor in a vampire’s undead blood would devile their purity and change a familiar, granting them faster healing, greater strength, and almost continuous supply of blood for the vampire. “Does Faust fuck your asses when he feeds from you?”
“We do whatever the Master wants,” the Texan drawled. “Just like you, whore.”
“So yes,” mocked Abigail.
The Texan’s jaw throbbed and his knuckles cracked. “He’s watchin’ right now. He wants you fucked up and fucked.”
His fist was a blur, catching Abigail by surprise. The vampire gasped in pain as it cracked into her head, knocking her onto her belly. She moaned in delight, savoring the pain. Before she could get up, the German seized her red hair and smashed her face into the concrete floor.
Abigail’s moan was orgasmic.
“That’s what a I thought, whore,” the German grunted and rammed his cock straight up her unlubed ass.
The pain hurt almost as much as having her head slammed into the floor. Abigail discovered something about her, something that becoming a vampire had changed. Pain was as ecstatic as pleasure.
“Fuck my ass,” she hissed, bucking into his painful thrusts, drinking in the burning agony.
The German slammed her face into the concrete again as he buried his cock hard into her asshole. The concrete floor could only momentarily hurt. There would be no bruisers or scraped skin. Only something truly pure—holy water, white oak, blessed silver, salt, sunlight—could actually hurt her.
Everything else was merely a new experience to enjoy.
“You like my cock fucking your ass, fangwhore?” snarled the German. “I bet you do. Did your husband ever fuck you this hard before you killed him.”
“No,” snarled Abigail. “Pound my ass. Make me cum, then I’ll drink every drop of your blood.”
“You can try,” laughed the German.
His hand pressed on the back of her neck as he pounded his cock in and out of her asshole. Abigail’s nipples rasped on the rough floor, adding more delight to her ass fucking. Her hips bucked up into his thrust while her lips ached for blood.
It filled the air. She had tasted two of the men. But, she wanted the third.
“Oh, you love my ass, faggot,” she moaned. “Ream my ass. Do you ever fuck Sire? Or does he only use your faggot ass? Maybe I can strap-on a dildo and give you the same thrill. I’ll fuck your ass harder than you’re fucking me.”
“You are one fucked up slut,” laughed the German. “Did your husband whine like a bitch when Faust fucked you in front of him.”
“He raged,” Abigail hissed, her ass clenching down on his cock as she remembered the way her husband had tried so hard to break free of his restraints. “He would have killed Sire if he could.”
The pain built inside of her. She embraced it, drinking it in. Her ass clenched and relaxed on his cock as she tensed. She pumped her hips, eager to feel his cum dump into her ass, aching for her orgasm to burst through her.
“Fuck me harder!” Abigail moaned. “Really make me hurt. Give it to me.”
“Slut!” snarled the German. He pounded her so hard.
Her asshole drank in the pain. Her pussy clenched as she trembled beneath him. She moaned and panted. A tremble raced through her body. His strokes grew faster. His balls smacked into her taint. His heart raced.
He’s about to cum.
“Fangwhore,” he growled. “Take it. Take my cum.”
Hot, salty cum exploded into her abused asshole. Abigail loved the heat. It burned inside her flesh. She shuddered as her orgasm burst hard through her. She screamed out loudly, her voice echoing through the room.
Abigail twisted around and stared into the German’s eyes. She wasn’t sure exactly how she did it. She just focused on him, boring into his mind, into his soul. He stiffened on her, driving his still cumming cock deep into her asshole as he fell under her trance.
“Attack,” Abigail purred.
The German ripped his cock out of her asshole and lunged at the Black man. Their bodies collided together, both man grunting. They struggled, bodies heaving. The German had the advantage of size and surprise, slamming the Black man’s head hard into the concrete wall.
Then he did it a second time. Blood matted the Black man’s head as he slumped to the floor, leaving a red smear on the wall.
I have mesmerizing gaze, Abigail chortled to herself as she sprang at the Texan and his coppery blood. How wonderfully wicked.
Every vampire had a gift—telekinesis, shadow walk, daywalking, astral projection, flight, and others. Abigail received mesmerizing gaze. She could dominate a human with a glance and bend their will to hers. If they were prepared they might be able to resist. Faust’s familiars hadn’t been expecting it, their mental defenses lowered.
Now they were ready. So Abigail didn’t try to mesmerize the Texan.
The Texan took a swing. His punch was hard, fast, blurring at her. She twisted her body and kicked out her foot, slamming into his solar plexus. He grunted and stumbled back. He threw two more punches, quick jabs that Abigail twisted around as she dropped.
Her hand smashed into his knee on the side. Her enhanced strength meant the blow landed with strength. His patella snapped. The Texan let out a moan of pain as his leg folded beneath him. He fell into a crotch and threw a punch at her stomach.
She caught his arm, twisted, and threw him over her shoulder. He landed hard on his back, groaning in pain. In a blur she was upon him, impaling her pussy on his cock. She sank down his girth as her teeth savaged at his neck.
This time, Abigail would drain him dry as she rode his cock.
The blood pumped into her mouth. Her hungers were fed as her pussy clenched down on his shaft. Her hips rose and fell, slamming her pussy up and down on the man while he groaned and shuddered on the ground, lost to the ecstasy of her bite.
The German stood over her, still under her power, his foot planted on the neck of the Black man in case he stirred. Abigail would kill the Black man next, drain him dry, then she would feast on the German. He would stand their and watch as she fucked and killed his companions one by one.
Her pussy clenched on the Texan’s cock. The man’s blood was ecstasy on her lips. The pleasure flowed through her body and gathered in her pussy. All the nerves in her sheath were alive, drinking in his girth, eager to cum as the man died.
Since he was a familiar, he wouldn’t turn.
“Abigail,” Faust’s voice calmly said, echoing throughout the room. It was tinny from speakers.
She lifted her mouth from her feast. The blood poured down her neck and covered her breasts. She squeezed her tits as she looked up, scanning for the speaker. The ceiling was a normal drop ceiling, with the cheap, drywall panels. In one of them was a small, pinhole camera beside the mesh for a tiny speaker. Without her keen senses, she would have missed it.
“Yes, Sire,” she moaned, massaging the blood into her breasts and nipples.
“Do not kill them,” he ordered. “In the future, when they come to feed and fuck you, you shall submit to their violence. You shall let them beat and humiliate you.”
“Yes, Sire,” Abigail moaned, her hips still rising up and down on the Texan’s cock. “Are you recording this?”
“Yes,” Faust answered. “After I’ve killed you, I want hours of footage of your various humiliations to amuse me over the decades. And I have so many different ways to humiliate and abuse you in store.”
“Yes, Sire,” Abigail moaned, her body shuddering. She pinched her blood-covered nipples.
“Now cum, whore.”
Her pussy spasmed. Her body obeyed her Sire. The pleasure rushed through her as she slammed down on the Texan. He stirred and grunted as she spasmed on his cock. Then his dick erupted and bathed her pussy with blast after blast of his cum while the camera recorded it all.
Damien D’Angelo dumped the corpse of Mary Daniels on his blood soaked bed. He had just fed and turned her. Even now, the change worked in her dead body. Soon, she would be reborn to unlife, a vampiress sired by him.
Britney Lawson, his busty familiar and Mary’s best friend, snuggled against the corpse, stroking the bleached-blonde hair of Mary off her face. Britney’s lips were stained with her friend’s blood. A familiar didn’t need to drink blood, she was still human, but she had enjoyed the taste of her friend’s life.
“Did she please you, Master?” Britney asked.
“She did,” smiled Damien. “She’ll be very useful.”
“How?” asked Britney. “With your plan?”
“What do you know of my plan?” Damien asked.
“Not much. There is someone you need to kill and someone you need to rescue.” The blonde Britney let her finger trace around Mary’s right nipple, brushing the silver barbell that pierced it. Mary was a far wilder girl than the virginal Britney. Damien had never understood their friendship. He had always found Mary to be a slut. She had even tried to seduce him when he was human.
Damien had Abigail and passed on the little piece of fluff. Now, as a vampire, he was learning he could have the fluff and still claim his wife.
“I can’t wait for her to wake up and feed on me,” Britney moaned. “I’m glad you turned her, Master. It would have been such a waste to kill her outright.”
Damien smiled. “She was your best friend, but it wouldn’t have bothered you if I drained every drop of her blood?”
“It’s why I brought her, Master,” giggled Britney. She was both so youthful and innocent, yet so wicked at the same time. It made his cock ache. “I knew she would enjoy it. She’s always craved new delights. A final explosion of bliss and ecstasy. Plus, I had to find you food. You were hungry. I could feel that. You deserved a special treat. You can’t just drink my blood all the time. You need variety, Master.”
“I need caution,” Damien said. He had drunk the blood of two different women now. He had fed his thirst. He knew the pitfalls of a new vampire. They became drunk off blood and killing. They would amass bodies swiftly, drawing attention of a Hunter like Damien had been. “I can’t afford to leave in bodies behind. Not for now.”
“Then you’ll have to turn them,” Britney giggled. “So, where are we going when the sun sets?”
“Ooh, Mary knows Chicago. She knows were all the clubs are at. She’s a party girl.” Britney licked her lips. “I bet there’s good hunting at a club.”
Damien gave her a look. “What do you know of hunting?”
“I like to watch those vampire shows. They’re so naughty. They always made me tingle between my thighs.” Britney spread her legs, showing her pussy covered by light-blonde hair matted by her excitement. “Right here.”
Damien was tempted to fuck her, but he needed to ready for their trip. Night was a few hours away. “Go home and pack,” he commanded Britney. “Then return. And pack something for Mary to wear, too. I’m sure you have some of her clothes.”
“Yes, Master,” smiled Britney. “I hope she doesn’t wake before I return.”
“She won’t. Be fast.” He paused. “Have you ever used a weapon?”
“I’ve shot skeet with a shotgun a few times at my uncle’s farm.”
“Good. You need to learn how to fight. Both of you will.” He grabbed his laptop. He had money in the basement. He just needed to find an apartment to rent. Preferably with cash. A loft would be perfect. Something near Faust Tower.
He began his search. It didn’t take him long to find something perfect.
When Britney returned, he had his cell phone in hand and made a phone call. The loft over Risqué would do. It was listed as office space—no would want to live over a club—and it was cheap and near Faust Tower.
“Why are you smiling, Master?” Britney asked as she stripped naked and slipped back in bed with Mary. Color returned to the corpse and the bleach faded from her hair, Mary’s natural black returning as her body underwent the change.
“I think I found where we’ll be staying in Chicago.”
The phone picked up. “Windy City Property Management,” answered a woman, her voice a sultry purr. “How can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m interested in renting the loft over Risqué. It’s perfect for my tech start up. Is there any chance we could meet tonight to see it?”
“Tonight?” the woman asked. “Well, our business hours are between 9 AM and 5 PM, sir.”
“I’m flying in tonight. I have a tight schedule. Here, you can make arrangements with my secretary. We need this fast. I’m willing to pay a premium to jump through all the red tape possible.”
Damien tossed the phone to Britney. He mouthed, “10 PM, promise her anything.”
“Hi, I’m Britney, Mr. D’Angelo’s secretary,” the busty girl purred as she continued stroking Mary’s nipple with her free hand. “How about 10 PM? I know it’s late, but this is really important. We’d be more than willing to pay for the inconvenience. Mr. D’Angelo has an amazing idea. His tech company will be the next big thing in social media. In five years, you’ll have forgotten all about Twitter.”
Damien smiled and left Britney to work out the details. Britney would put the Realtor at ease. She sounded so innocent, so nonthreatening. You will be useful.
Damien headed downstairs to gather the money and weapons he kept in the house.
Britney Lawson watched her friend slowly become a vampiress.
Britney hummed to her friend as she stroked her naked body. First, a heart began beating beneath those lovely breasts and color returned to Mary’s face. Her nipples hardened beneath Britney’s touch. Then those breasts rose and fell as Mary breathed again.
“You’re getting closer and closer to waking up,” purred Britney. “How wonderful.”
Britney felt absolutely no guilt that she brought her best friend here to die. The fact that Mary would now be a vampiress in service to her Master was wonderful, but Britney would have been equally happy burying her friend’s corpse after her Master finished consuming Mary’s blood.
I have really changed, Britney marveled as she watched the flesh knit itself where Master’s teeth had ripped out Mary’s carotid artery and feasted on her blood. It’s so wonderful to be free of guilt. All I have to do is serve Master’s every whim and I’ll be happy.
“And you get to serve him, too,” purred Britney.
She stroked Mary’s face. Britney turned her friend’s face to the side, Mary’s lips just an inch from Britney’s nipple. Her breasts were already full of her milk. As a familiar, she didn’t just restore her blood faster than a human, but she always felt full of breast milk. She pressed her nipple into Mary’s lips.
“I hope you sink your teeth into me right away,” Britney cooed. “Then you can drink my breast milk and blood all at the same time. I just know you’ll love it.”
Mary’s mouth grew wet. Instinctively, she suckled on the nipple as she stirred, her body moving. She dreamed now. Britney stroked her friend’s pure-black hair, then let her hand trail down to pinch and pull on Mary’s nipples, playing with her piercings.
“It’s time to wake up and feed.”
Mary’s eyes opened. A hot shudder rippled through Britney as Mary’s fangs bit.
“Yes,” Britney gasped. Four fangs pierced her areola. Her blood flowed as the intoxicating drug of a vampire’s saliva entered Britney’s bloodstream. She shuddered as Mary suckled, drinking blood and breast milk together. “That’s it. You need your strength, Mary.”
The new vampiress suckled harder, her cheeks hallowing as she nursed noisily. Britney was in heaven. She gasped and shuddered, her blood and milk flowing out of her. The pleasure rushed down to her pussy.
She parted her legs and humped her hot flesh into Mary’s side. “Yes, yes, feed. Nurse. Oh, such a good vampiress. You need to be strong to help master out.”
Mary wrapped her arms around Britney’s body. The vampiress turned on her side, her wet pussy rubbing on Britney’s thigh. The pair humped each other, sliding their hot flesh up and down each other’s sleek thighs. Pleasure rippled through Britney’s body, from her nipple down to her pussy.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” purred Britney. “Keep drinking my milk and blood. Oh, yes. Oh, wow. I’m going to cum. I love being fed upon.”
Britney’s head tossed back. She meant it. There was nothing the familiar loved more now than a pair of fangs sucking blood and a hot mouth suckling milk. Her body shuddered as she humped her pussy into Mary’s thigh.
“You’re so amazing,” Britney gasped. “Oh, yes. Keep drinking. I’m going to cream your thigh.”
Mary moaned. Her eyes squeezed shut. She humped harder against Britney. Both girls gasped and moaned as they writhed together. Britney shuddered every time her pussy slid up Mary’s thigh. Britney’s clit shot bliss through her.
Mary’s fingernails bit into Britney’s back, leaving fiery scratches that oozed blood. Britney drank in the pain. She was changed, her body twisted to enjoy anything a vampire did to her. The pain shot to her pussy, mixing with all the other delights.
Britney’s pussy clenched. Her eyes squeezed shut.
“Mary!” she screeched as her orgasm exploded through her.
The bed creaked louder as Britney was carried away on her orgasm, half-drunk of Mary’s intoxicating saliva while her pussy burned with bliss. Mary’s fingers clawed deeper into Britney’s body, tearing flesh, shooting wonderful pain through Britney’s body that made her cum harder.
“Cum with me, Mary!” gasped Britney. “Oh, I love it.”
Mary ground her pussy hard on Britney’s thighs. A flood of juices squirted against Britney’s flesh as the vampiress came. Her mouth bit harder on Britney’s areola, fresh blood mixing with the milk squirting into Mary’s hungry mouth.
Britney held the vampiress as she spasmed and orgasmed. The blonde familiar gasped and moaned, her orgasm dying down. She floated on the bliss of her climax and savored the delight of nursing Mary.
Mary released Britney’s nipple. “You fucking bitch,” Mary gasped, her lips stained with milky blood. “You lured me here to die.”
“Guilty,” laughed Britney. “But Master made you into a vampire.”
“Vampire?” Mary arched her eyebrow. “How wicked.” She stared at her fingers covered in Britney’s blood. She brought her fingers to her lips and licked them clean one by one.
The pain faded from Britney’s body as her accelerated healing repaired the damage Mary caused while her body replenished the slight amount of blood lost. Britney slowly humped her pussy on Mary’s thigh as she watched the vampiress clean the blood from her fingers.
“Did you drink my blood, too?” Mary asked.
Britney nodded her head.
“But you’re not a vampire, right?”
Britney shook her head.
“Mmm, and that’s why you smell so delicious. Your heart thuds in your chest. You’re so warm. My body’s drinking in your heat. And your blood…” A shudder ran through Mary. “I think I’ll drink every last drop. Serve you right for trying to kill me.”
“That wouldn’t make Master happy,” Britney told her. Britney didn’t fight as wet lips nuzzled at her neck. Mary’s lips. Mary’s fangs sank into Britney. Her blood flooded into the vampiress’ mouth. She can kill me doing this. Britney’s pussy clenched in delight. “Oh, Mary, drink my blood.”
Mary settled atop Britney as she feasted, grinding her pussy into Britney’s. Their clits kissed. Pleasure burst out Britney’s pussy as the world swam dark over her. Britney hugged the vampire, moaning loudly.
“Drain me dry!” Britney gasped, stars dancing as her vision fuzzed darker. Her body struggled to replace the blood gushing into Mary’s mouth. But it was going too fast even for a familiar to replenish. “Yes, yes. Drink all my blood, Mary.”
Mary purred, grinding her wet pussy harder against Britney.
The floor creaked. “Mary!” Master’s voice cracked. “Stop feeding on her.”
Mary let out a snarling moan, her teeth lifting off of Britney’s body. The blonde familiar kept spasming beneath Mary, Britney’s world swimming, the pleasure burning hot through her body. The blood slowed, no long gushing from her neck.
“I’m hungry, Sire,” pouted Mary, her clit rubbing hard on Britney. “Let me drain her dry. She tried to kill me.”
“She brought you to me.” Damien’s words made Mary shudder atop Britney. “She is mine. Only I can drain her dry.”
“Any time, Master,” Britney gasped, the world still spinning. She struggled to stay conscious as the orgasm built inside her pussy.
“You can feed off of her, but never come close to killing her,” Damien said, seizing Mary’s hair. He kissed her hard on the mouth, savoring Britney’s blood staining Mary’s lips.
“Yes, yes, yes,” gasped Britney as another orgasm burst through her.
Then Master pushed Mary’s head down. He slammed his dick into her mouth.
“Fuck her mouth, Master,” Britney gasped. “Dump your cum in her.”
Mary moaned and humped Britney harder. The vampiress and the familiar came together, their pussies gushing juices, bathing each other in their passion. Britney shuddered and struggled not to pass out, but the world grew darker and darker.
She slipped into unconsciousness to recover from Mary’s aggressive feeding, a smile on her lips. I have two vampires to feed now.
Britney’s mouth sucking on his cock made Damien D’Angelo smiled. He pulled his SUV out of the garage, the back loaded with all his weapons and the $200,000 he and Abigail had stashed away in the house—they were paid handsomely by the Jesuits to hunt vampires.
Britney moaned as she sucked, recovered fully from Mary’s feeding a few hours ago. Britney’s tongue swirled about his dick. The idea of driving while being blown had occurred to him before, particularly when he was younger, but now that we was undead, petty concerns like safety and morality hardly mattered.
“Suck his cock, slut,” Mary purred. She sat in the passenger seat, Britney kneeling between both seats. Mary’s hand caressed Britney’s naked ass—her skirt had ridden up as she sucked.
The sun had just set. It still painted the western horizon in reds and oranges, but the direct light was gone. Damien was eager to get to Chicago. He had just enough time to make his appointment with the realtor.
“I’m hungry, Sire,” purred Mary. “Can we grab a bite to eat.” The vampiress glanced out the window of her car where a gorgeous woman in yoga pants jogged by, oblivious to the world as she listened to music through her earbuds. “We could split her.”
“Britney,” Damien smiled. “Show her what awaits for us in Chicago.”
Britney popped her mouth off Damien’s cock and smiled. She pulled out her phone and played with it. “This is who we are meeting. Rose Reyes.”
“Damn, she is gorgeous,” moaned Mary. “I love Latinas. They are firecrackers.”
“We’ll have a feast when we arrive,” Damien promised as Britney swallowed his cock. “But if you need to wet your appetite, I’m sure Britney won’t mind.”
Mary grinned, her red lips wet. Her fangs grew as she leaned over and sank her teeth into Britney’s ass. The familiar moaned about Damien’s cock while the coppery scent of her blood tickled Damien’s nose.
He drove faster as Britney sucked harder.
The door to Abigail’s cell opened. The three familiars entered again, the Texan carrying a tub of steaming, soapy water. The German held a beautiful, red dress that he hung off the door handle. The Black man threw a loofah at Abigail.
All three men had healed from their injuries.
“Clean yourself, fangwhore,” the Texan drawled. “Master is taking you out tonight.”
Abigail ached to kill all three men, but her Sire had given her orders. She grabbed the loofah and washed the dried blood and cum off her body.
Dark thoughts whispered through Father Hyrum Augustine’s ever since he fucked Joy’s ass while she was bent over the altar hours ago. He felt different. He felt more alive. Stronger, younger, more virile. He hadn’t change. He still looked like a man almost into his fifties.
But a certainty had settled in on him. He would lead a crusade, and he needed warriors. Joy was the first. He wasn’t sure how he would mold her, but he would. And he needed others. Mary, Mrs. Lawson, her daughter Britney, Abigail, Mrs. Anders, and Samantha would be nice. His warrior whores.
His eyes leered at Samantha Murphy as she sat across from him. Next to her was Tony, her fiancee. Their wedding was next Saturday and they were having their final counseling session with Father Augustine.
Samantha was innocent. According to the young couple, both eighteen, they hadn’t had sex yet. Samantha had bushy-brown hair and glasses perched on her delicate face. Her lips were pale-pink, so lovely, so perfect to be wrapped around his cock.
She’s a whore. They always are. Every woman is a whore. She just hasn’t learned how to be one yet. Once she’s had her cherry popped, she’ll have a roving eye. Tony thinks he’s marrying a perfect angel, but she’ll cuckold him as she grows older. She can’t fight that whorish hole between her thighs.
Father Augustine wanted to bend her pretty ass over the altar and fuck her hard. Why should he let Tony enjoy that sweet delight. Father Augustine might as well enjoy her young body before she became a complete whore.
It will happen no matter what. That wet, sinful hole controls a woman. Unless they have a strong man to keep them in line. Tony’s not strong. He’s just a boy.
“I think we’re ready for this, Father,” Samantha said, holding Tony’s hand. She gave him a shy smile.
“Are you?” Father Augustine asked. “You’re so young. Neither of you have even lived.”
“It’s in my heart,” Samantha nodded.
It’s a shame your heart can be overridden by your cunt. I’ll prove it, slut. “Okay. If you’re certain.” Father Augustine paused. “Did you come in the same car?”
“No, Father,” Tony frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“Just making sure. Such temptations are found in a car.” The Priest leaned forward. “But I think I need to talk with Samantha alone. I’m not sure she is ready for this commitment.”
“Father?” Samantha frowned. She glanced at the priest, at his eyes, and hers widened. The priest knew Samantha recognized the hunger burning in his eyes. She shifted on her seat, her little pussy growing hot. “Why would you need to talk to me alone?”
“I’d rather not say in front of your fiancee. But, I think this will be the best for the both of you.”
The couple glanced at each other. “I guess if he needs to talk to you, Sam, I can take off. I don’t want there to be any problems.”
“But…” Samantha glanced back at the priest. Her chin trembled.
“Is something wrong?” Tony asked.
“Yes?” Father Augustine leaned forward across his desk. “Is there?”
“I … no. Of course we can talk.” She blushed.
“Good. Tony, it’s been a pleasure. Stay out of trouble.”
“I will, sir.”
As the young man stood, Father Augustine produced his phone. He fired off a quick text to Joy: “Come to the church. Be quiet.”
Samantha swallowed when her fiance left. She squirmed on the seat, her cheeks red. Father Augustine could almost hear the young woman’s thoughts: The Father is so sexy. He’s changed. So strong. Commanding. What is wrong with me? I’m getting married in less than a week. Don’t think these thoughts. Don’t be impure.
All women are whores, a feminine voice whispered out of Father Augustine’s soul. That’s why they need you to guide them. You can reduce their sin to only one man. A holy man. A man who will guide them and mold them into weapons.
“Amen,” Father Augustine whispered as he rose, a tremble running through his body.
“Father?” Samantha asked, her lower lip trembling.
“Let’s continue this in church. I think it’ll be more instructive inside there.”
“Yes, Father,” she whispered, standing up and trailing after him.
Father Augustine led her out of his office in the back of the church and out into the main hall. It was dark. There was no one in here. He loved the quiet of his church when no one was here. It was so private.
“Are you a sinful girl, Samantha?”
“Of course not,” she gasped.
“But you have impure thoughts?”
“You have confessed them to me in the past. You have masturbated while thinking of other men. Celebrities, cute boys in your class, but never to Tony.”
“I … I have … to Tony,” she answered. “I imagine our wedding night.”
Father Augustine stopped at the altar and turned to her. “Is that the reason you are in such a hurry to get married?”
“We love each other,” Samantha protested.
“You just want to be fucked. You just want your hot, wet hole between your thighs to finally know a man. You don’t care which man. Tony is the only one dumb enough to marry you, to go through the hoops, to fuck you. It’s good that you are trying not to be a complete whore.”
“A whore, Father?” she gasped.
“What else would I call you?” He seized her shoulders and pushed her against the altar. Her lips tremble. “I know the thoughts in your mind. Filthy, impure thoughts. You sat next to your fiance, the man you claim to love, and thought about another man.
His last word echoed through the empty church. Samantha trembled as she sat on the edge of the altar, her hips twisting. Her breasts rose and fell while her eyes were so liquid behind her glasses. Those made her seem so innocent, hiding her whorish lusts.
“I … I wasn’t.”
“You are in the House of our Lord, sitting upon the altar.” His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Do not lie in here, whore.”
Father Augustine pressed closer to her. Samantha’s legs were forced apart, her skirt riding her calves to her knees. She trembled before him, her tongue flicking across her lips as she stared into his eyes, transfixed like a doe in the headlight of a car.
She knows she should look away, whispered the wise, feminine voice that had guided Father Augustine to such delights these last two days. But she can’t. She’s a whore. Her pussy is soaked. Show that to her. Make her confront the truth of her body.
Father Augustine thrust his hand beneath Samantha’s skirt. She shuddered and gasped as the priest rubbed at her panties. Her hands shot down, trying to grasp his wrist and stop his finger from slipping through the leg band of her panties.
“Father! Please! What are you doing!”
“Proving that you’re a whore that wants to fuck anyone. You don’t love Tony.”
Samantha’s eyes widened as his finger caressed up and down her wet pussy lips. Her fingers tightened on his wrist as a low, unbidden moan escaped her lips. Father Augustine smiled as he pulled out his finger.
It glistened with her sweet musk.
“Then why are you so wet right now?” he demanded. He smeared the pussy juices on her lips. “You are in the House of our Lord. Do not lie and make him more angry with your whorish ways.”
“I … I do want to have sex, Father,” she moaned. “So badly. I … I can’t help myself. I do want to have sex. With anyone. But … I don’t want to sin. I have to get married.”
“So you don’t love Tony?”
“I … I don’t know. I … want him in me. Sometimes, when we go out on dates, it takes all my self-control not to give in. I know he wants me. That’s why we need to get married as soon as possible.”
Joy lurked at the doorway, a smile on her naughty lips. She rubbed her hand between her thighs as she watched.
“There is another way,” Father Augustine said, his hands pushing up her skirt. “A way for you to satisfy your sinful lusts while serving something greater. By being a warrior under my guidance.”
“What?” she asked.
His fingers reached her panties. She didn’t fight this time as he pressed into her legband. He rubbed at her hot flesh. He stroked up and down her virginal pussy. Her juices flowed and she moaned and shuddered again.
Power flowed out of him. The gift the feminine voice had given Father Augustine entered into Samantha’s whorish hole. She spasmed and groaned, her brown hair swaying about her shoulders as she tossed back her head.
“Do you want to serve something Higher than you, Samantha?” he asked, stroking her wet petals. “Something greater. Something more than you are?”
“I … I do,” she moaned. “What do I have to do?”
Father Augustine motioned for Joy to come out. “Why, share a holy sacrament with me and your new sister.”
Joy stepped up, hunger in her eyes. “Is she going to fight evil with us, Father?”
Samantha bit her lip and shuddered again as Father Augustine rubbed at her hard clit and fed her a bit more of his energy. The voice whispered and the priest repeated, “Yes, she is. Tonight, you both shall be consecrated. Through communion and sharing of the sacrament, the three of us shall embark on a new path.”
Jezebel the demon shuddered in Father Augustine’s soul as he ripped down Samantha’s panties. She had him corrupted. He was hers. There would be no redemption for Father Augustine. He had perverted his church and misled his flock.
He was a dark shaman now. Her tool along with the women he would claim. Faust Crespo had to be protected. A grave threat had arisen, and Jezebel would see her contract with the vampire upheld and defend his life.
I really need to thank the angel that violated the rules. I did not expect to be able to corrupt Father Augustine and his flock this much.
“Aurora,” the commanding voice said out of the light.
Aurora stood straight and proud in Heaven. She faced the light without flinching. It pulsed and contracted, tinged with red. Uriel, her superior, was greatly displeased. Aurora faced him without flinching.
“What have you done, Angel?”
“I prevented a vampire from going on a rampage and kept him an instrument of Heaven’s will.”
“By condemning a young woman to vampirism?”
“She would have died,” Aurora explained. “And then more would die and we would have lost our weapon against Faust.”
“Death is immaterial,” Uriel answered, his light pulsing with every word. The red grew brighter. “You have allowed a greater evil into the world. Through your actions, you have allowed a demonic possession to progress to the second stage.”
Aurora hesitated. “Demonic possession?”
“And you have only strengthened Damien D’Angelo.”
Aurora shook her head. She had made her decision. She would not flinch from it. “I made the right decision. If I had been given permission to intervene, then the demonic possession would not have progressed. And what matters is Faust’s defeat.”
“You mean Jezebel’s defeat.”
Aurora’s mouth opened and then snapped shut. “I won’t lie and say that is not important. She is a foul, loathsome creature. Faust is hers. His death will be a blow against Hell. My actions were necessary. I saved lives and it will lead to stopping the most dangerous vampire in the world.”
“Such arrogance offends me, Angel. Two hundred years in purgatory. Let the scourge whip your pride from your soul.”
“No. I am needed on earth. Damien will need more guidance. You cannot pull me out. Sacrifices were necessary to win this war.”
“Are you rebelling, Angel?”
Aurora drew herself up. She had done the right thing. She should be commended, not castigated. Heaven’s rules always allow the demons to work their plots. The balance is a joke. Why should my necessary intervention allow a demon to perform evil without reproach? A good act should not allow an equally evil one to be committed. It is folly.
“I am, Uriel.”
Chapter 6: Unholy Communion
Aurora’s words of defiance echoed through Heaven. The crystal foundations reverberated with her defiance. Aurora had rebelled. She was tired of Heaven’s rules allowing Hell’s success. No longer would she play the game that led mankind to ever increasing levels of depravity. She would guide her tool, the vampire Damien, and use him to right the wrongs.
She would see Faust destroyed along with all the others whom polluted the human’s world. She would rediscover Paradise that had been Lost to Adam’s sin.
In her mind, it was all so clear. Damien would kill Faust, be reunited with Abigail, and then she would lead the vampires to hunt others of their ilk. They would be the greatest hunters ever. She just had to leash him before he caused any more harm.
And Heaven’s rules held her back.
“Rebellion!” roared Uriel, her superior. The Archangel’s nimbus of light flickered and pulsed with violent reds. “You throw your cause with the demons?”
“No. I will never be one of them. I will be what Heaven should have always aspired to be—crusaders. I will drive back the darkness from the world.”
“By adding more darkness to it?” Uriel moved towards her. “You think you can fight Hell with its own tools and be victorious?”
“I will be victorious because I will not be bound by the petty restraints that chain Heaven. I will not let Jezebel spread poison any longer upon the world. I will make the Earth burn pure again.”
“And this has nothing to do with your own pride?” Uriel demanded. The light seized Aurora. Pain burned across her body. Her once white wings burned and cracked into gray ash. “Do you think I am blind to your petty vendetta against a single demon? We strive against all of Perditions hordes, and you are fixated on one, insignificant spec who wounded your pride.”
Aurora swelled up and threw off the archangel’s arms. “My only concern is protecting mankind and stopping Hell’s influence upon them. Do not presume to question my motivations.”
“I do not question them, I elucidate them. Go and rebel. You have made your choice. You are banished from the light of Heaven, exiled to the world. Fight your pointless crusade. Swell your pride in the misguided belief that your actions will cause any good and that your vendetta with Jezebel at all matters.”
The words slammed into Aurora. She was thrown from the light of Heaven. She tumbled through the void, crashing hard into the Ether as she hurtled towards the stained Earth. Righteous anger burned inside of her.
I will see Faust destroyed, his Empire salted into the Earth, and all of Jezebel’s foul plans stopped. I will stop Hell’s machinations without Heaven’s handcuffed help.
Aurora knew her purpose. She knew it wasn’t pride that drove her. She knew it wasn’t her anger at all the harm the demon had caused, or all the ways she had failed to protect Damien and Abigail. She had a calling. Pure. Righteous. Unsullied.
It drove her with purpose. She would cleanse the world, and Damien would be her fire.
Jezebel shuddered in delight from inside the soul of Father Augustine. The priest rubbed his cock up and down the virgin slit of Samantha, the engaged parishioner Father Augustine had corrupted. When he plunged his cock into Samantha’s cunt, he would forever be the demon’s puppet.
Her dark shaman.
The demon trembled in anticipation of feeling the father’s cock pierce through Samantha’s hymen and buried into her pristine depths. Such a betrayal of his church and calling as a priest to seduce a woman on the eve of her marriage.
Jezebel loved it. She loved being a demon, and she exulted in the knowledge that an angel out there had broken the rules and allowed her to so thoroughly corrupt the priest. Never once in all of Jezebel’s plotting and plans had she anticipated the power Father Augustine would harvest for her.
The Heavenly threat against Faust shall be cleansed. Jezebel shuddered as Father Augustine thrust.
Father Hyrum Augustine thrust. His cock popped through Samantha’s cherry. The virgin gasped and squirmed on the altar as his dick sank into the hot, tight depths of her pussy. Father Augustine savored the flesh wrapped about his cock.
“Your sinful cunt has tempted me,” Father Augustine breathed as he drew back. “It has urged me into this sinful act, but do not fear. I will remake you and Joy tonight. You shall be holy warriors, your whorish lusts chained to righteousness.”
“Yes, Father,” gasped Samantha, her virginal sheath clenching down on the priest’s cock. “I want to be a holy warrior. I don’t want my sinful hole to tempt men.”
“We’ll fight evil together,” Joy said, her blonde hair falling about her face as she leaned over the altar from the other side and cupped Samantha’s face. “We serve the Father now. We’re his. We’ll use our bodies to satiate the lusts we create in him.”
Joy kissed Samantha.
Father Augustine’s dick ached in Samantha’s cunt as he watched the whorish display of lesbian lust before him. Samantha shuddered, her head turning as she moaned into the kiss. Their lips melted together, their tongues flicking out. Father Augustine fucked Samantha harder, loving the sight.
“See what wanton creatures you are,” he moaned. “Always giving into the perversities of your sinful flesh. You tempt me with this lust, but know that you are forgiven. Indulge your carnal passions for each other.”
Joy broke the kiss. She licked her lips, her hands sliding down her naked stomach to her shaved pussy. She pushed Samantha’s head down. The virgin’s lips kissed at Joy’s pudenda. The father could hear the wet smacks as Joy moved Samantha’s lips lower and lower.
“I can’t believe this,” moaned Samantha. “I can’t fight this. I never thought I could be so sinful, but you were right, Father. I am. I would have cheated on Tony eventually. I didn’t love him. I just wanted to marry him so I could fuck.”
Her pussy clenched when she said “fuck.” Her word echoed through the worship hall of Our Lady Queen of Heaven, Father Augustine’s perish. From here he had aided Damien and Abigail in their holy mission to hunt vampires.
“Oh, yes,” Joy gasped. “Mmm, lick my clit, sweetie. That’s it. We’re holy warriors together. We need to love each other.”
“Such sin lurks in the heart of women,” Father Augustine groaned. I wish I could see Samantha’s tongue licking through Joy’s folds.
Father Augustine gathered Samantha’s brunette curls in his hand, clearing them from the side of her face. As he fucked her pussy, he leaned out to the side and grinned at the pink tongue swirling around Joy’s nub.
His dick ached. He had been celibate since he was eighteen. Thirty years without sex before he met Joy hitchhiking. And even when he was a young man that had indulged in a woman’s flesh, he had never witnessed such debauchery before.
If it wasn’t for his new-found stamina, he would have erupted into Samantha’s cunt on the spot.
“That’s it, lick her pussy,” groaned Father Augustine. His balls smacked into Samantha’s pussy. “You stir lusts in women as well as men. You have to satiate her lusts. She is your sister-warrior. You are united. Tonight, you shall be bathed in a new baptism.”
“Yes, bathe us, Father,” gasped Joy, her hips undulating.
Samantha moaned and suddenly shuddered. Her pussy convulsed about the Father’s cock. The priest groaned as he slammed into her depths. He grit his teeth as her flesh rippled about his dick, sucking at him, eager to be bathed in his cum.
“Did licking her cunt make you cum, whore?”
“Yes,” Samantha moaned. “Yes, it did, Father. This is so sinful. I feel so … naughty. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe how much of a whore I am.”
“You love it,” Father Augustine growled. He pulled her head up by her hair and turned her so he could claim her lips in a kiss. Joy’s spicy pussy covered her lips. He savored them as he fucked her harder, his balls about to boil. “Admit how much you love being a wanton whore.”
“I love it, Father,” Samantha moaned, her body shuddering.
“Are you cumming again?”
“Yes.” Her answer had an ecstatic joy about it. Her face twisted in a parody of serene worship as her pussy massaged the priest’s cock. “I can’t help it. Your cock feels amazing inside of me. I love it, Father. I’m yours. Your devoted slave.”
“Yes,” Joy hissed in agreement. “Yours, Father.”
“Fetch the communion cup from the tabernacle,” the Father barked. “I’m close to cumming in the whore.”
“Tabernacle?” Joy asked.
Father Augustine pointed at the ornate cabinet where the holy communion was stored. Joy went to it, her naked ass swaying, her pussy juices trickling down her thighs. She had a hot cunt. A sinful cunt that begged for the priest’s cock.
I’ll enjoy her next.
“Hurry,” he growled. “Samantha’s sinful cunt is about to overwhelm my cock.”
“Yes,” Samantha moaned, her hips bucking back into his thrusts. “Spill your seed in me.”
Joy opened the cabinet and pulled out the golden chalice. She held it between her hands and raced back to the altar. Instinctively, she knelt below the priest and held the cup up to Samantha’s pussy. Father Augustine’s balls smacked into the cold, metal rim of the cup as he plowed into Joy’s cunt.
“Whore,” Father Augustine growled as his cum spilled into her pussy. Blast after blast flooded out of him. The priest threw back his head. He felt younger by the minute. Cumming into the whores of his church invigorated him.
He ripped his cock out, sucking in deep breaths. His cum, tinged pink from her virgin blood, flowed into the cup. Joy licked her lips as the jizz and pussy juices leaked out. Samantha groaned, clenching her teeth as she forced more cum out of her depths.
Words, spoken by a feminine whisper, rose inside of Father Augustine. He seized the chalice. Energy rippled out of him. The golden cup blackened with tarnish as dark electricity crackled around the rim before shooting down into the jizz.
“This is my body,” the priest moaned as he held the cup before the two women. Samantha quickly knelt beside Joy, both young women staring up at him in rapt worship. “This is my blood. This is my essence mixed.” He thrust the cup towards Joy’s lips and tilted it. “Eat and drink this in remembrance of my authority.”
Joy shuddered as the cum passed her lips. Black sparks rippled across her body. A lasting connection bound Joy to him, tying her soul to his. The feminine voice in the depths of his soul cackled in delight as energy invigorated Joy.
The priest repeated the words and tilted the cup to Samantha. She squealed in delight as she was chained. The priest smiled as he stared down at his holy warriors. They rose and, in unison, seized his cock, their lips both sucking on the crown and brushing together as they worshiped him.
He savored the moment and then his cell phone rang.
The loud, electronic, blaring ring ruined the sanctity of the ritual. He set the cup reverently on the altar. It still contained his seed mixed with virgin blood. There was enough for one more whore to drink and be bound to him.
Then he marched to his discarded cassock and fumbled around in his pockets for the phone. He grabbed it. Donna Lawson’s name flashed on the screen. He smiled. She was a beautiful woman, as hot as her daughter Britney.
Donna was also a whore.
She had confessed her one-night stand a few years back, spinning a sobbing tale at how sorry she was for cheating on her husband and how much of a mistake it had been. “I was out of town. Lonely. I went down to the bar. I was so weak.”
Father Augustine hadn’t believed her lies then. She was a whore.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Father,” the half-panicked voice of Donna Lawson gasped. “My daughter Britney’s missing. She’s not at the church, is she?”
Britney Lawson licked her lips, gathering up the last traces of her Master’s cum. She loved being Damien D’Angelo’s thrall. The recently deflowered virgin was thrilled that she had been chosen to be his. She enjoyed nursing her vampire Master with both her breast milk and her blood.
And she was equally happy that her best friend Mary was Damien’s first vampiress. It had been Britney’s idea to lure her friend into her Master’s clutches. Britney had expected her Master to drain Mary dry, but instead Damien turned her into a vampiress.
Britney sat on her knees between the two bucket seats in Damien’s SUV. The center console had been removed so she could sit there and suck on Damien’s cock while he drove. She savored the salty flavor of his cum as she peered over the dashboard.
“Why are we pulling off the highway, Master?” she asked. In the distance, Chicago’s skyline glowed brightly, a beacon leading them into the city. Her eyes fixed on Faust Tower, the new skyscraper that had been built, taller even than the nearby Sears Tower.
In there was Damien’s kidnapped wife Abigail.
“Gas,” Mary purred. The vampiress lounged in the seat, her thighs almost fully exposed by the short skirt she wore. The tart scent of her pussy filled Britney’s nose. Mary stretched her arms over her head, her small breasts pressing against the tight halter top. Mary was a self-described Lolita, an eighteen-year-old slut that loved to drive men wild with desire for her. She knew how her body made them hard, and she loved it.
“Master needs to fuel up.”
“Might as well top it off in case we need to drive more,” Master said, his hand resting on Britney’s blonde curls.
The busty thrall shuddered, her tits straining her shirt, her nipples hard and a pair of wet spots appeared as her milk leaked out. Though she had been a virgin this morning when Damien had drained her blood, she lactated. Her breast milk had been artificially induced to help her mother out when her baby brother was born.
Britney was glad because Master and Mary loved her milk.
“And you need food and water, Britney,” Master added. “Your thrall metabolism will let you eat anything and not get fat, but you have to replenish your energies and fluids.”
“So we can drain you dry, slut,” giggled Mary, her hand joining Damien’s. The vampiress licked her lips.
Britney smiled. I can’t run dry. It’s too dangerous for Master to kill people. That leaves a trail. I shouldn’t have brought Mary to be killed, but it worked out well in the end.
Mary’s hand slid down and caressed Britney’s cheek, shooting a warm flood through her veins. Britney turned and kissed her friend’s palm. Their friendship had always puzzled and exasperated Britney’s parents. She had been a model student, attend church, never got in trouble whereas Mary would go out drinking all night and screw any man or woman that caught her eye.
And now we’re both Master’s sluts.
The SUV slowed to a stop in the well-lit gas station. Mary opened her door and stepped out with a subtle grace. Britney noticed the way her friend moved with a fluid beauty. It was subtle, but more than Mary’s hair color had changed when she turned—her bleached-blonde locks had returned to their natural black. Mary had been reborn today. They both had been.
Made to serve our sexy Master.
Britney crawled out and hooked Mary’s arm before they strode to the attached convenient store. “Mary, no feeding,” Damien called after them. “I mean it.”
“Yes, Sire,” Mary answered, then she whispered, “He’s my sexy, strict daddy now. It’s so wicked.”
Britney giggled in agreement. She had always had a crush on Damien growing up next door to the D’Angelos. He had a rugged, muscular sexiness that made a younger Britney fantasize such wicked thoughts.
A two tone, digital bell beeped when they pushed open the door and strode into the convenient store. Coolers full of sodas, bottled water, energy drinks, sports drinks, and beer lined the walls around shelves covered in everything from engine oil to chocolate bars. There was nothing truly healthy to eat, but Britney didn’t care as she strode to the back to grab a few bottles of water. Then she snagged some snacks, filling up her arms.
“Well, look at her,” Mary moaned, nodding her head up front. “Isn’t she a yummy morsel?”
Britney turned her head as Mary pressed up behind her. Mary’s hands wrapped around Britney’s waist and rubbed on her stomach. Britney licked her lips. She had discovered a new appreciation for a woman’s beauty since being turned into a thrall and freed from society’s puritanical morality.
“Yes,” Britney purred, drinking in the coffee-cream skin of the nineteen-year-old girl working behind the counter. She was clearly half-Black, with a small nose and cute lips. Tall with curves hidden by a loose T-shirt and the blue vest that formed her uniform. “I wouldn’t mind watching Master drain her blood.”
“She has such sweet blood,” moaned Mary. Her lips kissed at Britney’s neck. Britney shuddered as Mary’s fangs lightly pressed at her flesh, not hard enough to pierce the skin, but enough to make Britney wet. “I can smell it racing through her veins.”
The clerk looked up and her brown eyes widened. Her cheeks darkened as she jerked her eyes away. “She blushes like a virgin,” remarked Britney. “Like I used to.”
“She is a virgin. I can smell it. I want to taste her blood.”
“Master said no feeding,” Britney reminded as she stared at the girl. “You say she’s a virgin?” Mary let out an orgasmic moan that could have been a yes, her hips undulating and grinding into Britney’s ass.
An idea popped into Britney’s head. Master plans on turning Rosa into a vampiress when we reached Chicago to help him rescue Abigail. How many vampires can I feed? Three might be too many. If we had a second virgin to turn into a thrall…
“Let’s introduce ourselves,” Britney grinned.
“Ooh, you have changed,” Mary laughed. “I love the new you. If I get to taste her blood, I will worship your pussy.”
“You’d do that anyways, slut.”
“I would.” Mary squeezed Britney’s ass through her skirt as the pair walked up to the counter. Britney set her bottle water, a few candy bars, jerky, and a bag of chips on the counter.
“Is this everything?” the shy clerk asked. Her nametag read “Vickie.”
“No, it’s not,” Britney purred, leaning her elbows on the counter and catching a whiff of apricot. Probably her shampoo. “Did you like watching my friend nibble on my neck?”
“What?” Vickie asked.
“Did you find it hot?” Mary asked, leaning on the counter beside Britney. “Did it make your pussy wet?”
“What?” gasped the girl.
“I bet it did.” Britney put her arm around her friend. “Look at us. We’re hot. Who doesn’t like watching a pair of hot chicks make out?”
“A straight girl,” Vickie muttered.
“Even straight girls like to watch,” Mary giggled. Then she turned and kissed Britney.
Out of the corner of her eye, Britney watched Vickie face as Britney moved her lips and flicked her tongue against Mary’s mouth. Vickie’s eyes widened as Britney and Mary’s lips and tongues moved together. The kissing girls moaned as they pressed tight, Britney’s pussy clenching in delight.
Vickie’s breasts rose and fell when the two girls broke their kiss. Britney smiled at Vickie and reached out, touching her hand. Britney loved how her pale fingers contrasted with the light-chocolate of Vickie’s skin.
“Now tell me that didn’t make you hot,” Britney purred.
Mary took Vickie’s other hand. “I can smell how wet you are. Mmm, it’s a delicious musk. Tangy. I bet you want to feel my tongue licking through it.”
Vickie shook her head.
Mary nimbly leaped over the counter, slipped behind Vickie, and pressed up against the clerk. Vickie gasped as Mary pushed the clerk against the counter. Vickie bit her lip as Mary’s hands slid down and rubbed at Vicky’s jeans.
“You are so wet right now,” purred Mary. “You are just aching to have that cherry popped.”
“H-how do you know I’m a virgin?” groaned Vickie.
“It’s so obvious,” Britney smiled. She leaned forward and cupped Vickie’s cheeks. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Before Vickie could say anything, Britney pressed her wet lips against the clerk’s. Britney shuddered, her pussy clenching and her juices trickling down her thighs as she let her tongue flick out and meet Vickie’s lush lips. Vickie shivered into the kiss, her body squirming as Mary kept teasing the clerk.
Britney broke the kiss. “See, that was nice, right?”
“I guess,” Vickie groaned. “Who are you? What are you doing to me?”
“We’re making you wet,” Mary moaned. “We’re exciting you. We want you to fuck our boyfriend.”
Britney shuddered. “He’s such a stud. Look at him.” She turned Vickie’s face to peer out through the glass door. “He’s a stud. Tall, muscular, handsome, a badass. And he knows how to please a woman.”
“He’ll take you in hand and make you his,” moaned Mary. “You’ll want to please him.” “So badly,” Britney moaned. “So come with us and discover something so much better than this dump.”
“Discover what a man is like. Not one of those pussies you went to high school with that failed to spread your thighs and take your cherry. But a real man.”
Master walked towards the convenient store. A thrill ran through Britney. “You’ll love him, Vickie.”
“You’re both his girlfriends?”
“No,” Britney purred. “We’re his sex slaves. He’s our Master.”
“Oh, yes,” Mary moaned. “Don’t you want to be his, Vickie.”
“I’ve never even met him.”
“You’re about to.” Mary rubbed harder at Vickie’s crotch. “You’ll want to worship him.”
The two-toned beep resounded as Damien stepped through the door into store. He wore his sexy jeans and t-shirt. His hungry, dark eyes swept across the three, a cocky smile spreading across his chiseled face. His muscles stretched his t-shirt as he moved.
“Oh, my,” Vickie whispered. “He’s…”
“Hot,” Britney moaned. “And you can be his. He’ll make you cum so hard when he takes your cherry.”
“What are you sluts doing?” growled Damien.
“Getting snacks,” Mary grinned. “Doesn’t Vickie look like a tasty cherry treat?”
Damien D’Angelo breathed in deeply, letting Vickie’s scent fill his preternatural nose. He could smell the sweet blood pumping just beneath her veins. Her heart thudded rapidly, her eyes were dilated, her arousal perfumed the air. She had an exotic quality, her light-chocolate skin was alluring.
His fangs sprouted. He fought the urge to feast on her in the middle of the convenient store. He didn’t have to look to know several CCTV cameras were aimed at them right now. If he drank Vickie’s blood right here, even if he turned her into a Thrall like Britney, it would be recorded. And if the system automatically backed up in the cloud, there would be no destroying evidence.
“Are you a tasty cherry treat?” Damien smiled. He knew women found him attractive. Even before becoming a vampire, he was used to turning down flirting women. They sensed that he was dangerous, a soldier in the fight against darkness.
Now, Damien could indulge.
“Well, Vickie?” he asked, reaching out and lightly caressing her skin. She was warm. Beneath her skin, capillaries beaded with drops of her blood.
She shuddered, her eyes staring at him.
“You know you want to be made a real woman by him,” moaned Mary.
“You’re like her,” Vickie whispered. “You’re not … hot.”
“He’s a vampire,” Mary moaned. Vampires bodies were as warm or cold as the surrounding air. “Like me. But we won’t hurt you.”
Britney shook her head. She lifted up Vickie’s other hand to her lips and kissed her finger. Damien’s cock throbbed, remembering Britney’s mouth sucking on a far thicker member. Vickie shuddered, her eyes fluttering.
“The gas is almost done pumping,” Damien grinned. “If you want to really live, come join us.” Better to be safe. If she’s shown voluntarily leaving with us, no one will care. Just a nineteen-year-old acting irresponsibly the way they’re supposed to. “Let’s go, sluts.”
“Yes, Master,” Britney purred while Mary husked, “Yes, Sire.”
Mary gracefully slid across the counter, snagging Britney’s snacks in the process. Damien took both his women’s arms and walked out of the convenient store. He didn’t have to look back to know Vickie watched. The girl’s breathing quickened. Her pulse thudded. He could hear her tongue sliding across her lips, moistening them while her jeans rasped as her hips shifted.
Shoes squeaked. Damien smiled.
The door burst open. “Wait,” the girl called. “I … I want to…”
“Even though I’m a vampire?” Damien asked. “I’m dangerous.”
“Yes,” Vickie moaned and rushed after.
“Sluts love a bad boy, Sire,” purred Mary, snagging Vickie and pulling her close. “Even a virgin slut.”
Vickie blushed. Damien’s cock throbbed harder.
“Where are we going?” Vickie asked when they reached Damien’s SUV.
“We’re partying tonight,” Mary laughed. “You and Rosa. Mmm, we’re feasting.”
“You’ll love it,” Britney added as she scooted into the back seat. She pulled Vickie in after her. Mary slid in, leaving Damien by himself up front as he drive.
He adjusted his rear view mirror and watched as he drove. Britney and Mary’s hands roamed Vickie’s body. The virgin gasped and squirmed as she traded kisses with each. The scent of three women’s arousal filled his car, keeping Damien hard with anticipation as he roared down the highway to Chicago.
The limousine pulled up at the curb. Abigail D’Angelo sat beside the vampire who killed and sired her. Faust smiled, watching the video of her feeding earlier. Abigail’s pussy itched as she heard herself pant like a slut, feasting and fucking the three strapping thralls that served Faust. The dress Abigail wore was different from her usual attire. She was a beautiful woman, a cascade of fiery hair fell about her shoulders and her round breasts were barely concealed by the slinky, red party dress she wore.
Her usual outfit was more utilitarian. Stiletto heels and skirts that barely fell past her ass were not the best clothing to fight vampires. Of course, that was before she had become a vampire herself. Abigail felt with her new reflexes she could easily fight in heels.
“Remember to smile for the cameras,” Faust smiled as the valet in a black suit opened the door, white gloves covering his hands. He reached in to take her hand and she gracefully stepped out, keeping her thighs pressed together to not reveal her lack of panties to the cameras flashing.
Faust stepped out after her and took her arm. He wore a genial smile, waving at the cameras as they marched up to the mansion’s stairs. Abigail had no idea where they were, besides somewhere in the Gold Coast neighborhood of Chicago.
“This is the mayor of Chicago’s house,” Faust answered. “A good friend of mine. He’s throwing a party. And you will be on your best behavior, my little slut.”
“Of course, Sire,” purred Abigail. She was under his domination. He had turned her, and until he died or released her, she was bound to him.
A small part of her resisted. That part screamed inside Abigail.
Colored lights painted rainbows across the white side of the mansion. The various bushes dotting the dark ground were lit up by carefully placed floodlights to show off the manicured grounds even at night. Music drifted out through the open doors where a pair of strong men stood, their suit jackets left unbuttoned.
Ex-special forces, Abigail appraised. Sidearms with extended clips under their jackets in shoulder harnesses. Possibly fully automatic. Her eyes could see through the darkness. Some of those floodlights created pools of shadows that no normal human could see into against the glare. In there, other men stood with far larger bundles slung beneath their jackets. Sub machine guns.
“Tight security, Sire,” Abigail observed.
“You can never be too careful.”
“And how many vampires are there inside?”
Faust gave her a curious look. “A few. None of the politicians. Too visible, but there are a few among those that pull their strings. Chicago is our city now. We have ensured it. With the city’s murder rate, a few extra bodies hardly raises an eyebrow.”
They stepped into the mansion. A string quartet played in the entry hall, the songs composed by long dead men echoed through the room. Faust smiled as he looked at her and then turned to the three men who followed.
Abigail called them the Texan, the Black man, and the German. They were Thralls that she had fed off of and fucked earlier. They were also Faust’s bodyguards. Each one was stronger than the average human and, if any vampire hunters arrived, impervious or resilience against many of the weapons a hunter would use. A shotgun firing rock salt would only piss off a man the size of the trio.
“Collar her,” Faust ordered.
Abigail blinked. The Texan, a big grin on his rugged face, pulled out a dog collar studded with diamonds. He placed it around her neck and pulled it tight, then he clipped on a leash and handed it to Faust.
“Bitches go on their hands and knees,” Faust growled.
Abigail obeyed. What is going on here?
She knew Faust wanted to humiliate her as punishment for killing a dozen or so of the vampires he had sired over the years. He had promised as much to her. He wanted to degrade her before he finally killed her.
The German yanked up her short skirt, exposing her ass. The quartet never blinked and no surprise disrupted their music. They kept playing as a butt plug was shoved into Abigail’s asshole without lube. Her sphincter widened, burning pain shooting through her. She embraced the pain, letting out a wanton moan.
For a vampire, pain could be as exquisite as pleasure.
Abigail felt something attached to the butt plug. A doggy tail. People glanced at her in their suits and beautiful dresses. No one batted an eye. The powerful men of Chicago and their wives didn’t seem to care that a woman was forced to crawl like a bitch for their amusement.
“Come along,” Faust grinned.
Abigail swallowed her shame. She wanted to rip the butt plug out of her ass and kill everyone who glanced at her with those knowing smiles. As she was led through the room, everyone paused to give her a glance before dismissing her.
These pathetic humans think they’re better than me!
Her fangs itched to sprout. Everyone smelled so alive. There was so much she could feast on, and she had to deny herself. She knelt next to Faust, her insides stewing while he gabbed pointless pleasantries.
“What a fine bitch you brought, Faust,” a portly man laughed, his face ruddy. “Wouldn’t you agree, Maddy?”
“Oh, yes,” the woman on his arm laughed. She was a skinny woman, her face kept young by plastic surgery and her boobs had the perkiness of a woman half her age. She held up her foot, clad in a golden pair of open-toed heels. “Lick, bitch.”
Abigail flushed as her tongue slid across the woman’s painted toenails and in between her toes, brushing the sour shoe. Abigail’s enhanced senses let her taste everything. Her eyes squeezed shut while the inner her raged.
A zipper rasped. “Now lick this, bitch.”
The portly man’s cock thrust out.
“Go on, bitch,” his wife laughed, snagging Abigail’s red hair and yanking her head up. “Lick like a good girl.”
I could rip out your throat and drain you dry before your fat husband even knows what has happened. Abigail opened her mouth and licked across the tip of the cock, gathering the bead of precum.
The polite society of Chicago gathered around, watching her lick and tongue the weak man’s cock while Faust stood next to her, watching her humiliate herself. The wife pulled harder on her hair, forcing her mouth down her husband’s short cock.
“That’s it, bitch, work that mouth,” laughed the woman. “I don’t know what you did to piss Faust off, slut, but you are going to love tonight.”
“Mmm, look at her work that pretty mouth,” laughed a man. “I wonder where Faust found this whore?”
“Do you notice the wedding band on her finger. I wonder if her husband knows she’s such a whore.”
“The slut’s wet. Her juices are dripping down her thighs.”
“She’s eager for his cum. Look at her suck.”
Abigail heard every remark as the man’s precum filled her mouth.
“Her husband begged like a little girl when I claimed her,” Faust laughed. “He blubbered while she rode my cock.”
Abigail sucked harder as her insides twisted with humiliation and rage.
If Damien were alive, he would kill you all. Even you, Faust.
Father Augustine, his two sluts in tow, arrived at the Lawson’s house. He parked the gray church van out front and left Joy and Samantha to wait inside. As he walked up to the Lawson’s door, he glanced at the silent D’Angelo residence. Neither Damien or Abigail seemed to be home. He would have expected both of them to be involved in the search if Britney were missing.
“Thank god,” Donna Lawson gasped when she opened the door. The blonde housewife’s tear-stained face did little to hide her mature beauty. Father Augustine’s cock stirred. He knew who his final woman had to be. “I’m so worried. Her father’s outlooking for her. It’s not like Britney to be out this late. Especially, without calling.”
“I’m sure everything is fine,” Father Augustine smiled, his cock hard in his pants. “I’m more than willing to help.”
“Thank you.” She hugged him. Her breasts were pillowy. He wanted her, Mary, Britney, Abigail, and all the other sluts that attended his parish. He wanted them all to be his sluts. Britney was another virgin. He could use her to consecrate more women to be his.
“Do you have any idea where she could be?” asked Father Augustine.
“She went over to D’Angelo’s house, I think, around sunset.”
Father Augustine nodded. He knew that Abigail was close to the girl, and he suspected Britney had a whorish crush on Damien. “Did you call Damien and Abigail?”
“They didn’t answer their phones.”
The priest frowned at that. He shoved his hand into his pocket, fished out his smart phone, and dialed Damien’s number. It immediately went to voice mail. He tried Abigail’s. His stomach clenched. He could always reach one of them. They were hunters. They had to be ready to go out and fight evil at a moment’s notice.
“Did you knock on their door?”
“It was unlocked.” Donna’s face twisted. “I peeked in and called out, but no one answered. I didn’t feel comfortable going inside. Something … felt off in there.”
His heart racing, Father Augustine strode across the lawn to Damien and Abigail’s house. Donna trailed after him. The priest’s steps hurried. He almost ran as his heart thudded faster. He threw open the door. The scent of blood was unmistakable.
Father Augustine strode through the house, his stomach clenching. Why did I leave the weapons at the church?
Blood stained the carpet in the living room. A pair of pink panties frilled with lace, a heart made of small holes on the front, lay by the blood. The priest recognized the panties. He picked them up. They were still damp with Mary Daniels’s pussy.
She’s been killed or turned by a vampire. His hand clenched on the panties. She was supposed to be mine!
“Oh, god, that’s blood, Father,” groaned Donna.
“It’s not fresh. But hours old. Britney was in here after this blood was spilled.”
“It’s not hers?”
“No, it’s not hers.” Not this patch. Britney’s a virgin. If she’s coming and going from a house where a vampire’s fed, she been turned into a thrall.
“Go back to your house and do not call the police,” growled Father Augustine. “Go, Donna!”
Donna squeaked and obeyed, leaving the priest to search the house.
He had to find out who the vampire was. He had to know if Damien and Abigail were alive or turned. The D’Angelos’ bedroom was a mess. A tub brimmed with cold water and congealed blood. More blood stained the bed. Two more people had been drained in this house and there were no bodies.
Damien and Abigail have been turned.
You have to kill him, whispered the feminine voice in his soul. It’s the only way to save Mary and Britney. Kill him, and they’ll be yours.
“You are not what I expected, Mr. D’Angelo.”
Damien smiled at the real estate agent as she waited by the back stairwell. Around the corner, a line queued to get into Risqué, the hottest new club in town. The dance music thudded through the brick walls, rattling a dumpster pushed against it. Damien licked his lips as he eyed Rosa the real estate agent. She sauntered up in tight, maroon dress that hugged her curves. Her skin was a gorgeous golden-brown and a ruby smile covered her lips.
It was a fake smile. Damien could read the minute differences. Rosa Reyes was a professional. She put on the tight dress and lush smile to woo a rich tech billionaire interested in renting out a piece of property the night club on the first floor made any tenet pass on.
“Three women and you’re someone that takes care of himself.” Rosa stopped before him. “I like that in a man. So many think they can be slobs but expect me to have all the right curves. Mmm, but you have it figured out.”
“Yes, he does,” Mary purred behind him. She and Britney had Vickie sandwiched between them. The virgin’s scent was fear and arousal. All Damien smelled from the real estate agent was a pussy growing hotter.
“Show me the loft,” Damien grinned, “I’m sure the lighting’s better in there. I want to get a good look at what I’m buying.” His eyes boldly roamed her body.
She arched an eyebrow. “What all do you think you’re buying tonight?”
Damien just grinned at her. The pupils of her eyes expanded, turning them almost black. Her nipples dimpled the front of her dress. She wore no bra. Her tits were lush and perky. “Lead on.”
“So you can stare at my ass?”
She was bold, too.
“That’s why you wore this dress with that skirt and combined with those stockings. You want to be watched. Your current boyfriend has you bored.”
“I’m between them, “she answered as she walked up the stairs, her ass swaying. “So I’m back on the market.”
Damien could almost hear her thoughts as she climbed up the stairs: she hoped to land a rich bad boy tonight. The woman was ice inside. No matter how wet he would make her, she wouldn’t lose sight on her goals of getting all she could in life. She had a hot body, and she would use it.
The stairs creaked as Damien followed her up to the loft while trailed by his three women. Well, Vickie wasn’t his yet. But she will be.
Keys rattled as Rosa pulled them from her purse. Her long legs were silhouetted by the streetlight at the mouth of the alley. Long and gorgeous, the perfect legs to be wrapped about a man’s body. Damien’s dick throbbed harder.
The door opened and she stepped inside. Damien followed. The floor boomed beneath him as the music thudded from the club below. The excitement of the youths dancing and looking for partners to fuck permeated the air. The mix of sweat, perfume, hot pussy, and warm blood filled his nose. His body responded as he watched Rosa stroll through the open loft.
She spoke, describing the amenities, but he had eyes only for her. He let her words roll past him. They were empty, meaningless. Soon, she would be gasping and moaning beneath him. Once turned, she would be ruthless and devoted to him.
He couldn’t wait to watch her in action as a vampiress.
“You don’t say much,” she purred, her heels clicking as she sauntered back to Damien. “I hope you’re not judging the loft by the racket at night?”
“I like it.” The song change, frenetic and fast. “Primal. Beats in your chest. Below us, a hundred people are looking to have fun and find someone to fuck.”
“Not to love?”
“Love is such a rare thing.” I’m lucky to have found it. “Most of us just settled for fucking.”
“And should I settle for fucking?”
Damien moved to her. She gasped as he seized her, pulling her close. He stared into her dark eyes, her body trembling against his. Not even she could stay cool. Her heart raced beneath her breasts as Damien slid his hand down and grabbed her ass.
“You shouldn’t settle for fucking,” Damien whispered into her ear. “You should settle for passion.”
“And you can give it to me?” she gasped, touching his face. “You’re not warm. What are you?”
“Death and life. Passion and pleasure. Immortality.”
Behind Damien, Vicky shuddered as Britney and Mary stripped her naked. Mary had her orders. A few bites only, enough to keep Vicky docile while Damien fed first on Rosa. The Latina beauty in his arms stiffened.
“Who are you?” she moaned. “What is going on tonight?”
Damien squeezed her ass. He could bite her and claim her, but where was the challenge in that? “If you surrender to me, I will give you pleasures you’ve never heard of. You will be transformed.”
“Oh, yes,” Vickie shuddered.
“Mmm, she tastes delicious,” purred Mary as the sharp scent tang of spilled blood perfumed the air.
“Let me taste,” groaned Britney. A kiss was shared.
Damien kissed Rosa’s neck. Her pulse thudded against his lips. One bite, and he would deliver her oblivion. He forced himself to kiss higher, fighting against the itch to plunge his fangs into her flesh and feast on her life. His hands hiked up her skirt, rubbing at her naked ass and dipping beneath her skimpy thong. “You crave the power of wealth. But there is a greater power than that.”
“What?” she shuddered as his fingers teased her sphincter. She clenched and relaxed as she squirmed in his arms.
“Death.” Damien ripped her thong from her body. He held it up to his nose, inhaling her tart excitement soaking the fabric. “You’re not afraid. Not really. Only a touch, an instinctive flutter you struggle to master. You want what I can give you. You yearn for it.”
“Yes,” she hissed, her thighs parting, her pussy rubbing at his jeans. Through the denim, her excitement bled hot against his thigh. “I don’t know what you are, but I want it. Give it to me.”
“It’ll cost you.”
“I’ll pay,” she moaned. Her hands fumbled at his belt. She pushed down his pants, seizing his cock through his boxers. “Anything.” Her hand pushed in and grasped his hard cock.
“Anything covers a lot.” She stroked his cock and then parted her thighs as he backed her up. He pushed her against a brick wall. The music thudded through building, rumbling the walls. Her hands guided him to her pussy. He savored her wet, juicy warmth. “Even your death.”
He thrust into her.
“My death,” she groaned, her pussy clenching hot and tight about his dick. “Oh, no.”
Her fear filled her and that made her hips pump faster. A desperate, primal instinct surged through her to please him. She groaned and gasped, her wonderful, perfect thighs wrapping about his hips as she humped against him. His cock ached in her hot, wet silk, shooting pleasure through his body. His fangs grew sharp.
“Please,” she groaned as he kissed at her neck. “Please, no.”
“You’ll thank me when you’re reborn.” Damien bit.
“Yes,” she shuddered as his venom flooded her bloodstream. Her pussy clenched harder on his cock. Her juices poured out of her pussy as she undulated. Her heart thudded through her chest, pumping her blood into Damien’s mouth.
His dick ached and his balls boiled as he fucked her. He thrust hard as he drank down her salty life. It poured down his throat, invigorating him, mixing with the pleasure her tight cunt gave. It was such a wonderful, intimate gift. More precious than fucking her pussy.
The blood set alive his nerves. Every thrust of his cock burned with additional pleasure. It shuddered through him as she clutched harder and harder to him. Her moans echoed through the loft as he fed.
“Yes, yes,” she groaned. “Drink me. Oh, yes. I’m going to cum so hard. Fuck!”
Her body spasmed. Her pussy grew even hotter as her blood left her body. Her hips stopped undulating. She let out soft moans. Her heart faltered as the pressure dropped in her veins. The pleasure only built inside of her.
As she neared death, her pleasure increased. Her pussy spasmed. Her orgasm burst through her. Rosa’s hot pussy sucked at his cock, massaging him, shooting pleasure through his body that mixed with her life essence spilling down his throat.
Damien growled as he sucked out the last of her blood. His hips hammered her. His balls tightened. He was too close to stop. He had to cum in her. He had to drain her of every drop of her blood and spill into her body.
“Yes,” she whispered as she drowned in pleasure and sank towards death.
“Mine,” snarled Damien as he thrust into her depths. He turned her face and kissed her with bloody lips. He claimed her as his cum burst out of his balls. The pleasure flooded through him. His body shook as his cum spilled over and over into Rosa’s body. The ecstasy shot through him as his cum exploded into her over and over.
She quavered one last time, her pussy clenching and then relaxing. She was gone. Damien broke the kiss and smiled. The change settled through her. In a little while, she would have her rebirth, her new power.
Damien held her in his arms, cradling his new vampiress as he walked to Britney, Mary, and Vickie. All three were naked, their bodies smeared with the blood dribbling out of a dozen bite marks across Vickie’s breasts.
“Oh, yes,” gasped Vickie as she shuddered, lost to the vampire’s venom. Her eyes flicked up at Damien. “Is it my turn to be drained? To be gifted?”
“Yes,” Damien grinned. He set Rosa down then shed his clothing while his three woman watch. They licked their lips as they undulated their blood-smeared bodies. The crimson glinted in the dim light of the loft, painting the curves of their bodies.
Damien pressed behind Britney, his still hard cock rubbing at her ass as he leaned over the thrall to kiss Vickie on the lips. The virgin shuddered, tasting Rosa’s blood as Damien rammed his hard cock into the depths of Britney’s asshole.
“Yes,” Britney moaned as her Master’s cock speared into her asshole. She shuddered and clenched on him, her hips writhing as Damien’s lips were locked on Vickie’s.
Her Master’s strong body draped over her, holding her blood-smeared body and pressing her into Vickie’s trembling flesh. Britney’s large breasts pillowed into Vickie’s side as the thrall shuddered, her hips bucking and working her Master’s cock in and out of her asshole. His shaft was lubed by Rosa’s pussy.
It was so hot watching Master fuck her. Now I get to watch him drain Vickie. Joy bubbled inside of her.
Britney leaned over and licked at the blood trickling down Vickie’s light-chocolate breast, savoring the coppery flavor as her pussy ached. Damien groaned, then kissed down to Vickie’s neck. Mary pressed in on the other side.
Britney shuddered as both vampires bit into Vickie. The virgin shuddered, moaning in delight as she was fed upon. Britney knew how wonderful that was. Damien and Mary swallowed the blood gushing out of Vickie’s body.
“Drain her, Master,” Panted Britney, her body writhing as Master kept fucking her ass. His thrusts grew harder and harder as he growled and drained down Vickie’s life. Every time Damien buried into Britney, her pussy rubbed on Vickie’s thigh, shooting pleasure through Britney.
“So good,” moaned Vickie, a big smile crossing her lips.
Britney turned her head, resting it on Vickie’s chest. She had to contort her body, but it was worth it to listen to her heart beat. It slowed and faltered as Vickie came closer and closer to death. The girl shuddered, her eyes fluttered.
“I’m yours,” moaned Vickie before her heart grew labored. She exhaled and convulsed.
Britney’s asshole tightened on her Master’s cock. Damien ripped his lips away, stained with Vickie’s blood, and bit into his wrist. His blood poured out. Britney shuddered at the memory of his dark blood filling her mouth, changing her.
Vickie convulsed as she drank his blood.
Mary lifted her lips, rolling onto her back and squeezing her blood-stained tits as she moaned in delight.
“All mine,” growled Damien. He twisted Britney’s head around. He claimed her lips in a kiss as his dick buried into her asshole and pressed her clit hard against Vickie’s hip.
Britney came as she tasted Vickie’s salty blood on her Master’s lips. Her asshole clenched and relaxed on Damien’s dick. Her body convulsed in her Master’s arms. She shuddered in delight as his strong arms held her.
Mary crawled over Vickie’s unconscious form, pressing her bloody tits against Britney’s. “You little slut, you’re cumming, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” moaned Britney, breaking the kiss with her master.
His thrusts pressed her tight against Mary. The vampiress humped her hot pussy against Britney’s thigh as their lips met in a passionate kiss. The pleasure flooded through Britney as she savored the blood on Mary’s mouth.
“My sluts,” growled Damien.
Britney and Mary both moaned in unison.
Damien’s flesh slapped into Britney’s asshole. His balls smacked into her taint. Mary rubbed at Britney’s clit, circling it, keeping her orgasms bursting through her body. She shuddered and moaned between her two vampires.
Then they sank their fangs into her neck.
“Yes!” Britney screamed as she fed them. Her body convulsed. Her orgasm drowned her in bliss as her screaming heart pumped her blood into the vampires’ hungry mouths. She barely felt Damien’s cum flooding her ass.
Damien pulled his cock out of Britney’s ass. The thrall shuddered, a big smile on her face while Mary nursed blood and milk from her tits. Damien surveyed the loft. No furniture. And there were large windows that needed covering before dawn.
“Britney, take Mary and a thousand dollars from the bag,” growled Damien. Inside the bag was the $250,000 he and Abigail had saved up for emergencies over the years. “Go to Walmart. There’s one on the outskirts of Chicago. By a couple mattresses and lots of black curtains or black sheets.” He paused. “And black paint. And hurry. Dawn’s only five hours away.”
“Yes, Master,” Britney gasped.
“And Mary, no hunting.”
“Yes, Sire,” the raven-haired vampires pouted.
The two dressed and raced out, giggling in delight. Damien sat naked on the floor, watching over Rosa and Vickie as they went through their separate changes. He had Rosa cuddled up to Vickie. The new vampiress would need to feed when she awoke, and Vickie would be the perfect meal.
The door to the loft threw open, crashing into the wall. A wind swept through the room.
Damien bolted to his feet as a woman stepped in, gray wings spread behind her. Silver-blonde hair fell about her shoulders and her golden eyes seemed to glow as they fixed on Damien. She was a warrior.
The angel strode forward. The light fell on her face.
“I know you,” Damien growled, his eyes widening. “You sat beside me on the plane last night. You were in my dreams.”
“I tried to save you,” the angel answered. She shook her head and glanced a the two women as they were changed. “This has to stop, Damien. You can’t keep ruining women’s lives and making them yours. You need to find your purpose again.”
“Or you’ll kill me?” snarled Damien. Then he lunged at the angel.
THE END OF CHAPTER SIX