Feature Writer: mypenname3000 /
Feature Title:  The Vampire’s Kiss 13 TO 15 /
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 13: Bloody Orgy

The vampire Faust stared with fear at the priest. Father Augustine had changed in the time since they first met in the early hours of the morning. The priest was possessed by the demon Jezebel, Faust’s patron, sent to protect him. Augustine’s eyes bored into Faust’s while the priest’s hand gripped Lynette’s black hair, working her mouth up and down his cock.

Lynette was Faust’s vampiress and lover. Her wanton moans twisted Faust’s stomach. Her skimpy, black negligee, worn to please Faust, had hiked over the pale cheeks of her ass, revealing her fingers plunging into her hot pussy.

She was willing.

“Release my vampiress, Priest,” growled Faust. He blustered, but the old vampire knew better than to show fear. Weakness. Especially after seeing the reinforced doors of his office torn open by the supposedly human priest. “Now.”

“Your woman was wet for my cock,” the priest answered, a mocking smile on his lips. “Fickle whore wanted a real cock.”

Faust’s jaw tightened as Lynette moaned again. The tangy of her pussy flooded the room as she orgasmed. Her juices squirted out of her cunt, splashing around her wrist, and staining the expensive marble flooring.

“She is a slave to her lusts,” said the blonde slut standing beside the priest. “Like all women. And the Father’s cock inspires.”

Faust sneered. “Where are your other whores? Did you attend to Damien?” Is the threat against me ended?

“He lives. If you can call your kinds’ existence living.”

“Then why are you here instead of attending to the vampire?”

“Things are different now.” Pleasure crossed the priest’s face. He held Lynette’s head on his cock. Lynette swallowed the priest cum, moaning in delight.

Faust’s enhanced senses heard every last blast of the priest’s cum rushing out of his cock, the streams of jizz splashing into her mouth, the muscles working in her throat as she swallowed every drop, and the long, orgasmic sigh that rose from her depths.

Humiliation smoldered in the vampire. My woman.

“Explain, Priest,” Faust growled, pushing down his fear. He was beyond such weakness. He was beyond human frailty. Faust advanced. “Explain, Priest, why I shouldn’t rip your head off for your effrontery.”

This is my kingdom he treads upon, my subjects he uses.

Lynette kept sucking as Faust stood over the priest. Her eyes were glazed with bliss, her fingers still fucked her dripping cunt. The priest stared up at Faust without fear. Father Augustine’s blue eyes were a storming sea about to crash over the vampire and drown him.

“Your perverse kind do not deserve to walk this world,” growled the priest. “You had your chance, Faust, but you have failed. You have caused this doom to fall upon you by your own actions. She is not happy.”

“Jezebel?” swallowed the priest.Lynette moaned as she came again.

“How can you provide her with her tribute when all those you’ve corrupted are dead by your own folly? You created Damien and provoked him.” The priest grabbed Lynette’s hair and ripped her off his cock. He rose and seized Faust’s throat.

Iron gripped the vampire. The priest lifted him from the ground.

“A-are you going t-to kill me?” choked the vampire. Surely that squeaking voice can’t be mine. I’m a conquerer. A lord. I do not beg. “Please. I c-can still furnish the tributes.”

“So can I.”

The priest’s hand burned. His body beat with so much life. “I can still serve. I-I can aide you.” Stop being weak. “P-please, Father.”

“I do not need your filthy kind serving me.”

Faust’s eyes flicked to Lynette. “I c-can be useful.”

“Yes, you can be.” A smile crossed the priest’s face. Another weak, human emotion rose in Faust’s breast.



Britney Lawson couldn’t help the excited, giddy bubbles churning her stomach. The thrall to Damien couldn’t wait for her mother to wake up from her change as a beautiful vampiress. We’ll serve Damien forever and ever.

Her giddiness almost interfered in her job. She was in the back of the large SUV Rosa had stolen. The vampiress was beside Britney, stringing up the black sheet to cut off the back of the SUV from the driver seat, shielding the rear from the sun’s pure rays. There were six vampires in Britney’s dark family—her master Damien, his sultry wife Abigail, Britney’s best friend Mary, Rosa, and Samantha and Britney’s mother. The last two both underwent the change from life into undeath. Out of the six, only Rosa had the gift of daywalking.

Only she could withstand the direct light of the sun’s pure rays.

Britney, her nipples both aching as the bite wounds from Rosa and Mary adorning her areolas healed, painted the windows in the back of the SUV black. Paint from coating the windows of their safe house remained. She was careful, making sure every inch of the window was covered. She would not allow for her master or his vampiresses to burn.

“Hand me the other sheet,” Rosa commanded, the Latina vampiress’s words cold.

Little humanity lingered in Rosa. She was merciless. Mary had whispered to Britney how Rosa had killed in the mansion while rescuing Abigail. She had enjoyed it, coating herself in all the wonderful blood. Whenever Rosa looked at Britney it was a lioness gazing at a gazelle.

She wants to devour me.

The thought made Britney wet. The young woman loved to be devoured.

“Here,” Britney smiled, handing over the sheet.

“You’re wet,” Rosa said. “I can smell it through your clothing. Is it me?”

“Yes,” Britney moaned. “I’m such a slut for vampires.”

Rosa laughed and let out a hungry purr.

“I can feel it,” Britney continued. “You want to pin me to the floor and drain every drop of my blood. You want to feel my pulse flutter and still. To drink my blood while the warmth fades from my body.”

“So much,” Rosa moaned.

“That’s why I’m wet.”

“The danger?”

Britney shook her head as she dipped her roller into paint pan. “The thrill of being fed on, to feel my life spill into another. It’s such a drug. Like sex. Every time I’m fed on, this rush shots through me—what if it is the last time? What if my Master decides to drain me all the way?”

“He never would. Damien’s too soft to kill one of his women.”

“He’s not soft.” Britney fixed an angry glare at the vampiress.

“Only with his women. He still loves.” Rosa snorted. “I learned as a child how foolish that emotion was.”

Rosa stared at Britney, the vampiress’ tongue flicking across her lips. Damien’s commands held her in check. She was wild, straining at the leash, eager to feast and slay. Britney squeezed her thighs together as death stared at her.

I would cum so hard as she drained me.

The door to the SUV opened and Vickie, Damien’s other thrall, climbed in. The Black girl’s face was flushed with pain, and she pressed her hand to her belly. In the fight, Shannon had shot Vickie. That was before Abigail had subdued and turned Shannon.

“Master is growing impatient,” Vickie said, wincing as she bent down to grab the paintbrush. She turned to the back window.

“It’s coming along,” Rosa said as she attached the second sheet, ensuring no sunlight would slip by into the back. “I’ll go open the club up.”

The vampiress slipped out the open door into the sunlight streaming through the alley. Her clothing was torn and bloodied. Father Augustine, the priest from my parish church, had attacked Rosa this morning. To escape, she had thrown herself through a window at her office. The vampiress walked to a padlocked loading door. A club called Risqué lay beneath the loft Damien had chosen as his lair.

Rosa snapped off the padlock and ripped open the door. It rattled as it rolled up. Inside, Damien waited with the other vampiresses beneath a hole ripped through the flooring. Rosa climbed back in the SUV, started it up, and drove it into the parking garage.

Paint slopped. Britney sighed.

“We’re almost done, Master,” Britney reported as she rolled the paint over the final window. There were so many of them. Humans wanted to see out in the world.

“The back is safe for you, Sire,” Rosa said, a hint of malice in her words. She was disappointed it was safe. She itched at her leash.

Damien nodded. He had Britney’s mother—a busty, mature blonde—slung in his arms. Britney was eager for her mother to wake up. What did Father Augustine do to you and Shannon? Why were you so strong and swift?

Shannon, a woman a few years older than the eighteen-year-old Britney, lay draped over Abigail’s shoulder. Britney knew Shannon from church. The young woman’s wedding was next week. I guess that’s not happening. She has a new man in her life.

Britney giggled as Abigail threw Shannon’s body into the car. The young woman’s glasses almost came askew. Britney leaned down and adjusted them then gave Shannon a quick kiss on the lips, stroking her fair cheek.

“A car’s approaching,” Damien said, his back straightening. He drew the sawed-off shotgun he carried. Abigail produced the 9mm automatic handgun she looted off of Shannon. She carried it with practice ease.

Britney’s heart beat faster as a vehicle’s tires squealed as it turned into the alley. A black SUV, the windows tinted too dark to see through, pulled up to the open door. A huge, blond man stepped out. I gaped. The man had muscles on his muscles and almost no neck.

Abigail hissed, “You.”

“We come with a peace offering,” the man said with a thick, German accent.


Abigail D’Angelo kept her gun aimed on the German, as she called the blond brute. “There is nothing Faust could offer us to buy peace. Not after what he did.”

Anger burned in the vampiress. Memories of being attack, being fed on while Faust fucked her, turning and chaining her. She remembered killing her own husband, drinking his blood and turning him into a vampire on Faust’s orders then having to fuck her Sire in front of Damien. His cries of shame and rage echoed through her mind as he had struggled to break free of his bonds.

I came so hard, so many times. Faust emasculated my husband, and I was the knife.

She pressed her finger to the trigger. It had a 3 lb. pull. She put two on it. A hairsbreadth more and she would put three silver rounds into the thrall’s chest. The German ignored the weapon as Damien moved closer, his shotgun held before him.

“The only thing I want from Faust is his head,” Damien snarled, such hatred in his voice.

Even in high school, before Vincent preyed on their friends—on Lynette!—and they became vampire hunters, Abigail had found her husband’s strength so sexy. He made her wet. She surrendered her virginity to him. And a decade-and-a-half spent hunting vampires, honing his skills, his strength, kept her desire flowing.

And now as a vampire, he was so strong, so powerful. He would not compromise. Only Faust’s death would satisfy them.

“The peace offering isn’t from Faust,” the German said. He wrenched open the back of the van. Faust lay inside, thrown on the floor like a sack of potatoes, his body wrapped in chains.

Abigail let out a shocked gasped. “You’re his thrall,” she said as the German reached in and seized Faust. “What is going on?”

“We serve the priest now,” answered the German. He threw Faust through the doorway. Chains rattled as the vampire rolled to Damien’s feet. “Father Augustine doesn’t want to be your enemy. He’ll be your ally or you can simply walk away.”

“P-please,” whined Faust. “Abigail, set me free.”

Abigail arched an eyebrow, then her foot latched out, planting in the vampire’s stomach. His grunt sent a surge of excitement through her. She pointed her gun at his belly, aimed between the loops of chains, and fired.

Faust howled as the silver bullets penetrated his stomach. The wounds burned, smoke hissing. His agony sang through her heart. Abigail’s pussy grew wet. Her excitement dripped down her thighs as she savored the scent of his blood mixed with the gunpowder. The brass shells tinkled as they bounced across the cement floor.

What a beautiful melody.

“Faust is yours to deal with,” the German said, closing the SUV’s side door.

Damien put his booted foot on Faust’s neck, pressing down hard. “And my angel?”

The German furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know anything about an angel.”

“Father Augustine destroyed her.” A snarl crossed Damien’s lips. His fangs bared. “He has to answer for her death.”

“You’re welcome to try,” the German shrugged. “But the priest is not someone you want to make enemies with.” He climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV, sunlight falling across his face. The SUV’s tires squealed as it roared down the alleyway and out of sight.

“P-please,” sobbed Faust. “Please, I c-can help. I-I know how—”

His words cut off as Damien crushed his windpipe. “What happened to the arrogant prick? What happened to all your power?”

“Father … Augustine…” the vampire choked out. “He … he … not … human…”

Abigail aimed at the priest’s kneecap and flicked the selector switch on the 9mm to single shot. She fired a single shot. His kneecap exploded. His howls were so sweet. Abigail pressed her thighs together and fired at his other kneecap.

Damien turned to Abigail, his nose flaring. He can smell my excitement.

“Throw the filth in the back of the SUV,” Damien barked, pulling Abigail to him.

The vampiress trembled as his arms went around her body. She gasped as she pressed against him. Her thighs parted, rubbing her naked cunt on his black, combat pants. Her clit rasped as she humped, her flesh aching. Faust howled and blubbered behind her.

“There’s so much he can tell us,” moaned Abigail as her nipples rubbed into her husband’s chest, tingling on the cloth. “We’ll have to extract it from him.”

“Yes,” Damien growled, his cock hard against her thigh. She rubbed her flesh against him as she humped. Such delicious bliss rippled through her body. His hands seized her thighs. “We’ll have to be thorough.”

His mouth kissed her hard. His hands lifted her ass. She through her legs around his waist, holding him tight, grinding directly on his cock. Her blood pumped fast, her excitement growing. The scent of Faust’s blood and smoking flesh propelled her lusts. She moaned into the kiss as her clit rubbed up and down on his pants, scraping across rough fabric.

Delicious pleasure roared through her. Faust howled again as Mary and Rosa threw him in the back of the SUV. Damien followed, holding his wife. She groaned as he stretched her down beside the screaming, howling, pathetic vampire. Her red hair fanned out, crimson tendrils reaching in all directions, brushing Faust.

Damien’s hands squeezed her tits. He broke the kiss and she groaned, humping harder against him as he twisted her nipples. Her back arched as the bliss seared through her body. Rosa and Vickie climbed into the front seats.

“Take us to a safe house,” Damien growled at Rosa as she started the SUV.

“Yes, Sire.”

“We’re going to inflict so much pain on you,” Abigail gasped to Faust as Damien leaned down and sucked on her nipple. Delight shot through her.

And then Damien bit.

“Oh, yes, so much agony.” Abigail’s eyes fluttered as the pleasure rippled through her body. Damien’s teeth were in her, mini-cocks penetrating her body. Her blood flowed into his mouth as he sucked and worshiped her nub.

“They’re going to hurt you so badly,” Britney giggled, a silver-plated knife in hand. Then she cut Faust’s cheek. “Master wants you to suffer.”

“Ooh, I have to try,” Mary giggled, taking the knife from Britney’s hand and leaving another smoking wound on the vampire’s flesh.

“Yes,” Abigail gasped, savoring Faust’s pain as Damien suckled on her breast.

She ran her hands through Damien’s dark-brown, short hair. His hungry eyes flashed up at hers as he feasted. He released her right nipple, leaving bleeding wounds behind, the crimson trailing across her pale flesh, and moved over to her left.

He bite.

She came.

“Yes!” screamed Abigail as her pleasure burst through her. She bucked and shuddered beneath Damien. Her pussy humped against his flesh. Her moans echoed through the back of the SUV. She bucked and undulated, grunting with each explosion of her pleasure. It was so sweet. It rushed through her body, driving her wild with his touch.

“Damien, yes!”

Her blood flowed into his mouth as he played with her nipple. Her juice gushed from her pussy, soaking into his clothing as she humped her hot cunt against him. Every breath through her nose carried the scents of Faust’s agony. A heady aroma.

Britney leaned over, licking at the trickles of blood leaking from Abigail’s right breast. The thrall latched on, sucking as the wound healed. Abigail groaned and gasped, both her nipples bursting with pleasure.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Keep making him howl, Mary.”

“I will,” laughed the vampiress.

Faust screamed almost as loud as Abigail moaned. She thrashed on the carpet of the SUV, her orgasm driving towards a peak of bliss. Damien sucked harder while his strong hands roamed her body, teasing her.

Abigail licked her lips, turning her head and staring at Britney’s heaving tits in her low-cut top. “I need to feed, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

As Damien worked his way down Abigail’s body, biting her, leaving bloody kisses behind, Britney freed a large, round tit from her blouse. The young blonde brandished a pink nipple beading with milk. Her aureola had healed from Rosa and Mary’s feeding earlier.

Abigail engulfed nipple and aureola, knifing her fangs into Britney’s flesh. She let out an orgasmic sigh and stroked Abigail’s hair as the vampiress fed. She sucked mouthfuls of blood and milk mixed together, feasting on the motherly drink.

Two different forms of life mixed together.

“That’s it, Mistress,” cooed Britney, sounding like a young mother. “Mmm, drink it all down.”

Damien’s hungry eyes were on her as he knelt between her spread thighs. She slid her legs, her knees forming a pair of chevrons flanking him. Damien bit into her thigh. Sharp, hot pain flared through her.

Abigail moaned about Britney’s nipple.

“Such a beautiful sight,” Damien said, watching the blood trickle down Abigail’s thigh towards her pussy. She felt the trickle as her body heaved. It reached her pubic hair, mixing with the fiery bush.

I bet that must be a beautiful sight.

Damien licked the blood down her thigh, his tongue’s caress sending a wicked shudder through her body. She moaned and arched her back. His lips found her pussy. He licked through her folds, teasing her excited flesh.

“She loves it, Master,” cooed Britney. “She sucks so hard when you lick her pussy.”

Faust howled again. Fresh blood burned in the air.

Abigail humped her pussy into her husband’s devouring mouth. He licked and nuzzled, feasting on her flesh. Her pussy clenched. She groaned, a desperate hunger in her depths. She had to be filled. To be used and fucked.

She didn’t need her pussy eaten.

“Fuck me,” Abigail hissed, releasing Britney’s nipple. “Ram that big, thick cock in me, Damien. I need it. Pound me. Oh, I’m so horny.”

Mary laughed as Faust howled.

“Pound me. Make me scream louder than Faust.”

“Yes,” Damien growled, his lips smeared with her pussy juices.

Damien mounted Abigail as he unzipped his fly. With the dexterity of a vampire, he produced his dick and slammed into her depths. She groaned as her pussy embraced his shaft. She clamped down on his thrusting girth, rocking to him as their lips met, sharing the flavor of blood, milk, and pussy juices.

“Oh, pound her, Master,” Britney smiled, her breast still out, oozing blood and dripping with milk.

“Make him howl,” Damien growled as he pounded his wife.

The SUV rocked as Rosa drove it through Chicago. Damien’s thrusts were powerful. His dick slammed into Abigail’s cunt. His groin bruised her labia. Such sweet agony shot through her. She hissed through her teeth as Faust’s howls grew louder.

“Ooh, look at how he twists when I do this,” Britney chortled in her innocent voice.

“That’s so hot,” Mary agreed.

Abigail bucked her hips into her husband’s thrusts. They kissed and moaned as their bodies heaved together, driving towards their mutual climaxes. His balls smacked into her. His hands squeezed her breasts and rolled her nipples. His dick reamed her cunt.

The pleasure rippled through Abigail. Her clit ached every time Damien slammed into her depths. Powerful sparks flooded through her body. They crashed inside of her depths. She groaned and spasmed, drinking in the bliss.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she moaned. “Oh, Damien, pound me. Make me cum so fucking hard! I love it.”

“Just listen to his agony,” Damien growled in her ear. “His suffering. He tried to destroy us.”

“And failed!”

Her pussy clenched on his cock. Faust screamed and thrashed. Blood spurted, splashing across Abigail’s face. She licked her lips, tasting the blood of her Sire, her enemy. Her back arched. Her body tensed.

She exploded.

Abigail thrashed beneath her husband. Her pussy writhed about his cock, milking him, pleasuring him. She gasped and grunted, her fingernails scraping across the tough cloth of his black combat fatigues. Her pussy spasmed about his dick. He fucked her harder, driving his cock into her depths.

The pleasure rippled out of her. Sweet bliss. It drowned her mind. Her senses came alive. Every gasp of Faust, every inhalation of his blood, every thrust of Damien’s cock, every caress of her husband’s hand drove Abigail higher and higher.

She screamed in wordless pleasure. Rapture had carried her beyond intelligence. She groaned and gasped. Her thighs clenched about his waists as she bucked into his thrusts. Her clit burst with pleasure every time he slammed into her.

He kept her orgasm alive.

Her head lolled. A silver knife flashed. Blood spurted. Faust howled.

Abigail’s orgasm swelled even higher. The world fuzzed around her. She drifted on pleasure.

“Savor your revenge,” Damien growled in her ear. “Savor it.”

He bit her lobe. She shuddered at the new sensation crashing bliss through her. His dick buried into her depths. His cum spilled into her body.

And the entire time, Faust cried and blubbered.


“No one will be coming here,” Rosa said as Damien D’Angel stepped out of the SUV dragging the bloody Faust with him. Mary and Britney had used the silver dagger all over his body. “After what happened this morning at my office, I doubt any of my coworkers are showing houses.”

Damien nodded. They were in the suburb of Chicago in a foreclosed house. The garage was empty of anything, the cement slab stained with oil spots. The chains rattled as he hauled Faust to the wall and threw him into the corner.

“Rosa, Mary, string him up against the wall.”

“Yes, Sire,” both vampiresses said.

Rosa stripped naked as she walked over, unveiling her gorgeous, Latina flesh, her ass swaying. Abigail pressed up against Damien. He was naked. Abigail had ripped off his clothing before they fucked again in the car ride over. He breathed in her scent, mixed with the salty musk of his seed dripping out of her cunt.

“Just like he strung you up,” she purred.

“I won’t be stupid enough to leave without making sure he’s dead.”

Abigail nuzzled into his neck. “You always were thorough.” Her hand found his dick. “Can I torture him. After what he did to me.”

Anger burned in her voice. “It’s my gift to you,” Damien answered. “Our anniversary is coming up.”

Abigail gave a wicked giggle. “Did you remember for once?”

His hand squeezed her ass then pushed her forward. Mary and Rosa worked swiftly. Mary’s enhanced speed helped out. They had his bleeding, burned body unwrapped and used the chains to hang him by the wrists from the garage’s rafters. He dangled, slumped.

“We need to know the layout of your building’s security,” Abigail said.

Damien watched his wife interrogate Faust. His dick thrust hard before him. Vickie and Britney knelt on the floor, their lips kissing his dick, their vanilla and chocolate cheeks pressed together as their tongues flicked and licked his cock. Nearby, Rosa and Mary sixty-nined, satiating their lusts.

Damien stroked their hair as Abigail worked the silver knife through Faust’s flesh.

The pathetic vampire spilled all his details. He blubbered the entire time, his body shaking. Damien savored his enemy’s humiliation. Faust had fallen hard. He thought himself at the apex of the world and reality had taught him differently.

He was weak.

“The priest is possessed,” he blubbered, “Jezebel has made him into something more than human. He’s nephilim.”

“Nephilim?” Abigail frowned. “Like from the old testament.”

Blood spattered his wife’s body. It dripped down her curves, highlighting them in the artificial light of the garage. She rubbed a nipple with her left forefinger, circling her aureola as she studied Faust. Damien’s dick ached.

Britney and Vickie moaned as they pleasured him.


“It’s ancient,” sobbed Faust. “Jezebel captured an angel somehow. The combined union of Heaven and Perdition changed the priest. He’s stronger than a human, than a vampire. He is powerful. Unstoppable. Nephilim are dangerous. He took my vampiress, my thralls. They fell before his power. They betrayed me.

“And they’ll betray you, Damien!” Faust’s eyes sought out Damien’s. “Your women will serve him, fuck him. Abigail will become so wet. She’ll bend over and beg for his cock to sodomize her ass before you. I controlled her last time, but the priest … he’ll make her his willing slave. She’ll be helpless.”

“I would never,” Abigail hissed and slashed the knife across the priest’s chest, leaving a smoking, bleeding wound behind.

“Mine did,” Faust wept. “She didn’t hesitate. She sucked his cock. She worshiped him. And so will you and the other whores.”

“We would never,” Britney gasped. “We love Master.”

“Uh-huh,” Vickie moaned then swallowed Damien’s cock. Pleasure rushed through you.

“Of course your whore and your servants betrayed you,” laughed Abigail. “You never inspired loyalty. Your servants feared you. They never loved you. But Damien’s a better vampire. He everything you are not.”

Damien’s hand tightened in Vickie’s hair as he fucked her mouth. He heard the love in Abigail’s words. He knew the truth of her statements. Father Augustine would never steal my women from me.

“You say the demon’s stole my angel’s powers?” Damien growled. “Is she dead?”

“The angel?” groaned Faust. “No. She’s imprisoned, somewhere in the priest’s soul.” Faust licked blood-flecked lips. “You have an angel?”

“I tamed her,” laughed Damien, thrusting harder, remembering Aurora’s beauty. “I dominated her and made her sing for me.”

Damien’s dick ached in Vickie’s mouth. His shaft dived down her throat. She moaned her enjoyment as his balls smacked her chin. She hummed and swallowed, pleasuring his cock as he savored his triumph.

“I claimed an angel, Faust,” snarled Damien. “And the priest took her. I don’t care what the fuck he is. I will tear him apart. I will rip out his entrails to find my angel.”

“Yes,” Britney moaned.

“You’ll loose,” Faust shouted. “You’ll—”

His words cut off in a bloody gurgle. Abigail sawed the knife into his throat. Blood spurted, spraying her body as she cut more and more of the vampire’s head off. Abigail moaned, her ass cheeks clenching as she writhed her hips.

Damien’s thrusts grew harder as Faust died. Abigail’s knife parted his flesh then sawed through bone. With a snarl of triumph, Abigail lifted Faust’s head and turned to Damien. She held her prize aloft, blood smearing her breasts.

“Yes,” Damien snarled and came down Vickie’s throat. He held the thrall’s head as cum spurted from his dick. The pleasure rushed through him. Faust was dead.

Abigail tossed his head to the side and walked to him. She rubbed her hands up her belly, smearing the blood. Behind her, Rosa and Mary rushed to Faust’s corpse, drinking the blood from his neck, moaning their delight.

“We’ll crush the priest,” Abigail purred, pressing her blood-stained body against Damien. “Faust was weak. Frail. Father Augustine will pay for stealing Aurora.”


Abigail gasped as she laid on the cold garage floor. The cement leached the heat from her body as she squirmed, rubbing the blood smeared flesh across her body. Damien, Britney, Vicky, Mary, and Rosa fell on her, licking Faust’s blood from her skin.

“So good,” Britney panted, her tongue licking at the blood staining Abigail’s thighs.

“Yes,” Rosa panted, the vampiress nuzzling at Abigail’s neck. Her tongue licked up and down Abigail’s neck, gathering Faust’s blood.

Damien lapped at the blood on her stomach. Abigail shuddered. Her thighs pressed together, working her clit as the five tongues bathed her body. Her sensitive skin savored every lick and flick, the pleasure rushing down her body as she relieved the moment of killing Faust, the slice of the knife through his flesh and the spurt of his blood bathing her body.

Vickie nuzzled at Abigail’s face. The Black woman kissed and licked. Their lips met. Abigail savored Faust’s salty blood on the thrall’s lips. She squirmed and groaned, her body teased. Mary found Abigail’s right nipple, sucking the blood off and making her squeal.

“Father Augustine would never make me his slut,” gasped Mary. “Even if the priest does fuck good.”

“You fucked the priest?” Abigail moaned.

“At the church before I was turned,” Mary moaned. “I seduced him. He fucked me on the altar. It was so hot. But I’m Damien’s now.”

“Yes,” Rosa snarled between licks. “Damien’s. Not some old priests.”

Britney’s tongue licked down Abigail’s thigh and brushed her pussy. The vampiress groaned. Such sweet ecstasy rushed through her body. She squirmed on the concrete as the harem feasted on Faust’s unlife, his essence.

Lips sucked on both her nipples. Britney tongued deep into Abigail’s snatch, gathering up Damien’s jizz. Abigail gasped and squirmed. Damien’s tongue teased her belly button, gathering the blood pooling there. Abigail trembled, her every breath full of Faust’s salty blood.

“That smells so good,” a new voice purred.

“Mother,” squealed Britney in delight as Donna Lawson pressed between Abigail’s thighs next to her daughter. Two blonde heads leaned down to lap at Abigail’s pussy, mother’s and daughter’s cheeks pressed together.

“So good,” Donna groaned between licks of Abigail’s pussy. “That’s Master’s cum in there,” purred Britney. “Isn’t it wonderful, Mom?”


The pair kissed. Abigail groaned at the incestuous sound. Their lips smacked together. Abigail groaned again. Her eyes rolled back in her head as mother and daughter resumed licking her pussy. Donna flicked and flailed Abigail’s clit while Britney probed Abigail’s sheath, searching for more of Damien’s cum.

“Oh, yummy,” Samantha purred. “You are covered in delicious blood, Dam.”

Abigail turned her head and smiled at Samantha, the first vampiress Abigail had turn. She had sired the young woman. She was her Dam. The young woman pushed up her glasses and nuzzled at Abigail’s stomach, licking on the side Damien hadn’t covered.

“Fuck,” Damien growled. His dick thrust hard before him. He moved behind his thrall, seizing Vickie’s chocolate hips. He slammed his cock into her asshole.

“Master,” Vickie moaned in delight. She nuzzled into Abigail’s neck as she bucked her hips. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck my ass.”

Mother’s and daughter’s tongues attacking Abigail’s pussy drove the vampiress over the edge. Her body heaved. Her pleasure crashed through her body. She screamed out her triumphant bliss as she flooded Britney and Donna’s faces with her cream.


Damien slammed his cock into the velvet grip of Vickie’s ass. Her plump, chocolate butt-cheeks jiggled every time he buried his dick into her depths. Her bowels clenched on him and she moaned into Abigail’s neck.

The lust of Faust’s death gripped Damien. Blood stained lips. His hips hammered his thrall. She groaned and gasped, bucking and shuddering, loving every moment of his thrusts. Abigail moaned with her, cumming on the lips of the vampiresses.

Mother’s and daughter’s blonde hair spilled about each other as they feasted on Abigail’s snatch. The taboo sight inspired Damien. His dick ached in the embrace of Vickie’s ass. Her bowels clenched and relaxed on his girth.

Only snarls escaped Damien’s lips. The blood lust gripped him. It left no room for coherency. His moans and grunts joined the vampiresses’ and thralls’. Everyone purred and moaned, swept up in the excitement.

“Yes, yes, yes, Master,” gasped Vickie as she bucked her hips back. “Pound my ass.”

“Flood the little slut’s bowels,” panted Abigail, her green eyes fluttering. Blood smeared her cheeks, most licked up by the hungry women.

Damien roared. Faust was dead. Father Augustine would be next.

His balls smacked into Vickie’s taint. Each meaty thwack reminded Damien they brimmed with his seed. Vickie panted and moaned as she undulated her hips. She gripped him. She clenched and relaxed about his dick, massaging him, eager for his seed.

My slut.

The thought echoed over and over through Damien’s mind. He owned Vickie. She had surrendered herself to him. His strokes grew faster, his passion boiling through him. He grunted and snarled, lips coated in Faust’s blood.

His enemy’s blood.

I won.

Damien slammed his dick into Vickie’s bowels. His cock unloaded. Damien howled like a beast as his cum fountained into her bowels. His fingers clawed at her flesh. Fresh blood filled his nose as the rapture seized his body.

Damien buried into her. His cum flooded out of his body. Each blast brought him higher. He reached nirvana for a brilliant heartbeat. Perfect pleasure. Perfect Rapture. And then crashed back to the world, sucking in breaths.

“Master,” squealed Vickie, her bowels spasming about his dick as she came.

Damien surveyed the garage, smiling at his harem as they feasted and loved. Britney and Donna’s lips met, sharing their incestuous passion, their bodies writhing together. Damien remembered the intensity of Donna’s blood, somehow flavored by the demonic Jezebel. Samantha and Mary tribbed, humping their pussies together. Abigail feasted on Rosa’s cunt.

My harem will crush Father Augustine.


Britney’s heart beat for joy as she kissed her mother. Their lips locked together, their tongues licking, sharing the tart musk of Abigail’s pussy mixed with Damien’s salty cum. Her mother’s body was cool, a vampire’s unlife. Britney twisted, hugging her mother and sharing her warmth.

Mother’s and daughter’s large, pillowy tits pressed together and then their clits brushed. Donna rolled Britney onto her back. The young woman shuddered as her mother undulated and writhed, pressing their pussies together.

Britney broke the kiss. “We’re his, Mother. His!”

“Yes,” moaned Donna, her fangs flashing behind her ruby lips. “You smell so warm. So alive, baby-girl.”

“I am, Mom,” Britney gasped, loving their clits rubbing together. Her mother fucked her the way only a woman could fuck another. Britney dug her fingers into her mother’s writhing butt-cheeks. Then Britney turned and lifted her head, offering her neck to her vampiress mother. “Feed.”

Rapture flooded Britney as her mother’s fangs sank into her neck. Britney’s heart beat faster, eager to pump blood into her mother’s mouth. Donna moaned, sucking the blood gushing into her mouth. Her hips undulated faster, grinding against Britney’s pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes, Mom,” gasped Britney. “Feed from me. Grow strong. I love you.”

“Love you,” moaned Donna before she latched onto her daughter’s neck again.

The garage spun about Britney as the rapture of being fed on mixed with the heady rush of blood lust. Her thrall body fought to keep up with the flow of blood. Britney shuddered, humping into her mother’s pussy.

Will she drain me dry?

Britney moaned again, flirting with death as her mother drank her blood. The young woman’s pussy ground into her mother’s. Their clits brushed and rubbed together. The feeding heightened Britney’s senses. Everything felt so wonderful and amazing as her life poured into her mother’s mouth. She was so aware of Donna’s breasts pressed on hers, the silk of her mother’s stomach, the brush of their hard clits and wet folds of their pussy.

It all built inside Britney. The world fuzzed as her heart labored to keep up with her mother’s hungry feast. Donna moaned as she suckled. She swallowed. Her cheeks hollowed. Britney savored the wonderful sound.

“Master!” she moaned as her orgasm burst inside of her.

Rapture flooded through Britney’s body. She gasped and writhed beneath her mother. The world growing blacker and blacker as ecstasy consumed her. Britney hurtled into the stratosphere of passion. She went higher and higher, drifting in bliss.

“Don’t drain her dry,” snarled Damien, ripping Donna’s mouth from Britney’s throat. “That’s my slut.”

“His,” Britney purred as her head swam.

Damien’s cock appeared above her face. She tried to focus on it, but the pleasure gripped her. It made her spasm and groan. Britney gasped as Damien rammed his cock into Donna’s mouth. The sour scent of Vickie’s ass brushed Britney’s nose.

“Clean his cock,” she slurred, another wave of bliss washing through her. “Clean Master’s cock, Mom.”

Donna kept tribbing Britney. Mother ground her clit into daughter’s flesh. Britney shuddered as her thoughts grew clearer. The rapture still gripped her. She writhed and moaned. She kissed and nibbled at her mother’s neck as the wound on her neck closed.

Britney wouldn’t die today. She had flirted with death and escaped with her pleasure.

“Suck his cock, Mom,” moaned Britney, humping against her mother’s cunt. She squeezed Donna’s ass. “Suck his cock and cum, Mom. Let me feel you cum. I want to feel your juices wash over my cunt.”

“Fuck,” Damien groaned. “Keep humping against your daughter. Cum on her.”

Donna moaned about Damien’s cock. The mother shuddered on her daughter. Britney smiled. Her hands slid up her mother’s thighs and seized her tits. Britney squeezed them. I nursed from these tits as a child. Britney brought them to her lips and suckled. Britney loved her mother’s nipple, worrying it with her lips and nipping it with her teeth.

Donna spasmed. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Britney’s mother came hard. Juices flooded Britney’s cunt. Britney sucked harder on her mother’s breast, savoring the wicked delight of her mother’s orgasm.

“Mother and daughter,” panted Damien. “Share it. Share it with your daughter.” Damien tossed back his head and came.

Britney popped her lips off her mother’s nipple and smiled as Donna’s cheeks bulged. Cum dripped off her lips. Donna lowered her head down and kissed Britney hard. She thrust her tongue into Britney’s mouth, swapping cum. Britney shuddered and a small orgasm rippled through her body as she shared her Master’s cum with her mother.

“I’m so glad we get to serve him together,” smiled Britney.

“Me, too,” her mother smiled. “He’s quite the man.”

“More than Dad?”

“So much more,” shuddered Donna. And then she kissed Britney again.

Britney held her vampiress mother as they shared an incestuous kiss, her heart beating for joy.


Damien stared out the open door of the garage. The sun set behind the house. A long shadow stretched before Damien, shielding him from the sun. He stared at the Chicago skyline rising over the house across the street.

He stared at Faust Tower.

His angel was in there. Tonight, he would save her. The plan was set. Everyone knew their parts. It would be the hunt to end all hunts.

“No hunter has ever killed a nephilim,” Abigail purred as she stepped up to Damien. “It’s been 3000 years since one walked the earth.”

He smiled. “We always were the best.”

Abigail laughed and kissed her husband hard. It was almost time to leave. The night belonged to the vampires. They would instruct Father Augustine not to tread in it.


Father Augustine grunted as he fucked his cock into Lynette’s tight ass. The vampiress gasped and shuddered, her black hair spilling about her shoulders. He pressed her against the window of Faust’s office.

My office.

The glass flexed as he pounded Lynette. They stared to the north at Lake Michigan. The sun set to the west, its rays unable to reach Lynette’s flesh. She gasped and shuddered, her bowels gripping his cock.

The office reeked of sex. The priest had every attractive woman that worked in Faust Towers sent to the office. Dozens of them lay scattered about the room, half-conscious, fucked by his insatiable cock. No matter how many he fucked, it wasn’t enough.

His sin could never be drained.

Lynette screamed her orgasm. He thrust into the depths of her spasming bowels and unloaded his cum. It flooded her ass. She groaned, her breasts sliding across the glass as she shuddered. The pleasure boiled through him. Such power he had.

He ripped his still-hard dick from her ass. The vampires swayed.

“It’s time,” Father Augustine growled. “Damien will be coming for me. Faust will have spilled all his secrets.”

“Then why did you hand him over?” Lynette panted.

Joy fell to her knees before the priest and swallowed his filthy cock. “Because the peace offering had to be made,” the priest growled. The feminine voice insisted. “And besides, there is nothing Damien can do to stop me.”

“Yes, Father,” Lynette smiled. “Nothing.”

The vampiress gained her strength and strolled through the room, stepping over the stupefied women lying in puddles of the priest’s cum. Father Augustine closed his eyes and pictured Damien’s harem.

Abigail. Mary. Britney. The Black girl. Rosa. Shannon. Donna. The priest would have them all. Four vampiresses and two thralls to join his harem.

His cock erupted into Joy’s sucking mouth.


Aurora thrashed at the prison inside Jezebel’s soul. Nothing she did could help her escape. She was blind to the world. The only thing that escaped Aurora was her lust. It flowed into Jezebel and then into the priest.

He drinks my power. He gluts on it.

“Please, save me, Damien,” she called out, clawing at Jezebel’s soul. It was useless. She was trapped. Weak. As fast as she regained her energy, Jezebel stole it. “Please!”

Her only answer was Jezebel’s malicious, triumphant laughter.


Chapter 14: Passion’s Trap

The scent of feminine lust filled the SUV as Damien D’Angelo drove it through the streets of Chicago, the impending violence exciting Abigail and their women. Abigail sat beside him clad only in her red hair, thighs glistening, eyes dilated, cheeks pale, nipples hard. In her hand she cradled her 9mm automatic handgun with an extended clip.

They were all armed. Damien’s silver-plated machete hung from his belt, the blade thrust past his seat. He wore his blood-stained combat fatigues. The dried blood stiffened the fabric and formed a mosaic pattern of cracks from his movement. In the back, the wet sound of female masturbation echoed. Rosa moaned, the vampiress consumed by the impending slaughter.

Rosa lived for it.

Ahead, Faust Tower rose over the city. Though Faust was dead, and the fond memory of his torment and death hours ago was seared into Damien’s mind, the Tower still beat with his fester. Father Augustine had usurped the vampire.

And Father Augustine held Damien’s angel in his soul.

A possessive hatred burned inside Damien. He guttered with rage. Tonight, he would paint Faust’s Tower with his old friend’s blood. Tonight, the priest would die.

“They’re waiting for us,” moaned Abigail, her thighs writhing together. “Can you hear them? So many waiting.”

“Cops,” Damien growled, his attuned senses picking up the crackling of police radios. Through the darkness, spread out around Faust Tower, was a police cordon. Chicago PD, once controlled by the vampire now belonged to the priest.

“Yes,” Rosa moaned as her climax boiled through her. “Yes, yes, we’ll tear through the, Sire. We’ll carve a bloody path.”

Damien grinned and hit the accelerator. The police cordon rushed towards them. His keen senses picked out the cops rushing to take cover behind their cars, aiming their weapons. Unless they were outfitted with silver, Damien had nothing to fear.

The engine roared. The tachometer red lined. The accelerometer climbed higher and higher. 60 MPH, 70 MPH, 80 MPH. The blockade hurtled towards them. Damien’s held the accelerator to the floor.

90 MPH.

The cops opened fired.


Father Hyrum Augustine, the first nephilim to live in 3000 years, grunted as he buggered Joy. The blonde, young woman gasped and moaned in delight, her bowels clenching on the priest’s cock, her butt-cheeks jiggling with every thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes, Father,” gasped Joy, his slave, his woman, his whore, his warrior. “Fuck me. Ram that cock into my ass.”

“Yes,” he growled. “Satisfy my body with your sinful hole.”

Lusts burned in the priest. The stronger his body grew the more intense his lusts. All day as he waited for Damien’s attack, he had fucked. His office, formerly the weak Faust’s, lay strewn with semi-conscious women fucked into orgasmic insensibility. Their holes leaked the priest’s cum. He couldn’t stop fucking.

Even while Damien approached.

“Oh, yes, Father. Your cock. Oh, God, yes. Keep fucking me.”

Joy, enhanced by his unholy communion, could withstand the priest’s appetite. His cum smeared her naked body. It matted her blonde curls. Streaks of drying jizz flaked as she gasped and bucked, bent over the priest’s desk.

And the clench of her bowels were divine on the priest’s cock, building the pressure in his balls. His hands gripped her, strong. He grew younger with every passing minute, aging down from his late forties back to a man in his prime. His cossack fit tight about his deep chest while his cock barely fit in Joy’s hole.

The slut loved how his new girth he stretched her open.

The desk rocked. It had slid halfway across the office from his rutting, pushing up an expensive Ottoman rug now stained by the priest’s and his many whores’ fluids. Every part of the once elegant, sophisticated office was stained with the priest’s seed.

He had marked his territory.

“Cum in my body, Father! It’s why I exist. Every woman! Yours to fuck! Yours! Our wanton holes were created for you to dump your seed in, Father!”

Her words were Truth.

The priest slammed his cock into her and came. The jizz boiled out of his balls. The pleasure whipped through his soul. The feminine voice, the dark spirit he once believed was Holy, shuddered with him, reveling in the bliss. And, faintly, a third voice screamed and raged as her lusts flowed into the priest.

Invigorating him.

His hips did not stop thrusting. His cum boiled out of his balls but his dick was still hard. Cum oozed out around the priest’s dick, forced out by his thrusts. He savored the fresh scent of his cum and the moans of Joy as she came again.

The phone rang, the only object remaining on the desk.

Still fucking his slut, Father Augustine reached for the receiver. “Yes,” he grunted, his balls smacking into his slut.

“Damien approaches,” Lynette, the vampiress, purred. She had been Faust’s lover, but the vampiress was still female—still a whore. She had abandoned Faust for the satisfaction of a better cock. “He’s rushing the barricade.”

“Good,” the priest groaned and then the world outside erupted in gunshots.


Abigail thrust her body out the SUV’s passenger window. Her red hair whipped behind her as she aimed her automatic 9mm. She laughed in delight as the cops opened fire with handguns, shotguns, and AR-15 rifles. She aimed and opened fire as the bullets hissed by her.

Bullets slammed into the SUV. Sparks danced on the hood. The right tire burst. The car swerved for a moment, but Damien held it on course. The engine chugged, whined, then died in a burst of black smoke that rolled over the vehicle.

But it went to fast to be stopped—a battering ram hurtling at 100 MPH.

Mary threw herself out the back door. The vampiress streaked past the SUV, a blur crashing into the cops. Abigail marked Mary’s progress only by the blood spurting from severed necks as she slashed with a silver-plated knife. Flowing in Mary’s wake was Samantha, the vampiress Abigail sired. The young woman became mist, white, ethereal, drifting beside the vehicle.

Abigail fired her 9mm. Each pull of the trigger sent a burst of three or four rounds from the gun. It spat them out in a rapid tat-tat-tat. With her strength and reflexes, the bullets struck their targets. Cops fell dead, each bullet landing between their eyes.

Abigail squeezed her juicy thighs together, savoring the carnage.

The SUV was 100 feet away.

Abigail pulled the trigger, firing the last rounds and killing three more cops. Bullets struck her. They stung for a moment before her body healed. They were lead. Impure. Harmless. Her gaze caught one cop’s eyes as she tossed her gun away.

She mesmerized the with her gaze.


The heartbeat before the SUV crashed into the lead cop car, the mesmerized cop turned, aimed his AR-15 at the cop beside him, and fired. He did not miss at five feet. Abigail shifted her gaze to find another cop to mesmerize.

The SUV hit the first cop car.

Metal crunched.

Glass shattered.

Cops screamed.

Rosa moaned in joy as the SUV sent the cop car flying. Damien lost control of the SUV. It tumbled. The world spun. The force threw Abigail from the vehicle. She crashed her back into the side of a patrol car, bounced off, and landed on her feet before an astonished cop scrambling for cover. He had brown eyes, a youthful face.

“Kill,” Abigail purred as she stared into his eyes. “Kill all your friends.”

The cop’s eyes went dull. He rose mechanically, turned his shotgun, and opened fire. Abigail laughed. Pandemonium swept through the cops guarding the front of Faust Tower. Samantha swept through the police as mist. Where she passed, men screamed. A crimson hue spread through her pearly fog. The SUV came to a crashing halt against the security gate of the building’s parking garage. The vehicle had half penetrated through the metal partition, sheering the metal links. The engine burned. The vehicle smoked.

The side door kicked off and Rosa burst out naked and weaponless. She crashed into a cop, her teeth sinking, her thighs wrapped tight about his waist. Rosa humped the man as she fed, blood spurting around her face and staining her body.

Abigail laughed as her mesmerized cop fell in a hail of his own side’s bullets. More struck her, annoying gnats. She strode through the panicked cops to her husband, mesmerizing every officer she passed, leaving chaos in her wake.

Men screamed in frightened panic.

Damien climbed out of the SUV and ripped down the broken partition, opening the way into the parking garage. “Let’s go,” he snarled, pulling Britney out of the SUV. The busty thrall held a combat shotgun in hand. Her mother followed her out and then Vickie, a wild gleam in her eye, blood dribbling from a cut on her arm.

“Aurora!” snarled Damien.

Abigail smiled. Always soft with his women.


Exhilaration spilled through Britney Lawson as she raised her combat shotgun and fired it at a cop. More were in the parking garage. They wore the combat armor of SWAT Officers. Did Father Augustine get every cop in the city to guard him?

Did he think that would stop my Master?

The cop stumbled back, his body armor taking the blow. He raised his submachine gun, a compact, black weapon. A spike of fear shot through Britney that made her feel so alive. Unlike the vampires, she could be killed by normal bullets.

Her mother, Donna, crashed into the swat officer. Donna’s blonde hair spilled about her as she sank her fangs into the cop’s neck. The scent of blood filled the air. Britney licked her lips as she pumped the action on the shotgun and pivoted, firing at another cop.

The cop fired back.

Britney fell to her knees out of instinct, screaming in wordless excitement. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her blonde hair rippled as a bullet knifed past her face. An inch and I would have died. Everything became more real as time slowed to her. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, chilling her blood and sharpening her vision.

She pumped the action. A red shotgun shell tumbled through the air as she fired at the cop. Blood spurted from his legs. The buck shot tore through his black fatigues. The cop groaned and fell to the ground.

Britney sprinted forward, her bare feet slapping on the concrete. The cop struggled to get up, but his legs were mangled. She kicked his gun away, pushed him over onto his back, and aimed the shotgun right at his face.

“Please,” begged the cop.

Britney fired. Her heart soared. I killed someone.

She stared at the ruin of his face for a moment, savoring the exhilaration of ending a life. She understood the vampires better. It was a drug. Power. Britney could not imagine a narcotic more potent than pulling a trigger and snuffing out a life.

“Don’t just stand there,” her mother shouted, dashing by, her naked tits covered in blood.

“Right, Mom,” Britney called and followed her mother through the parking garage.

Bullets cracked against support columns and pinged into parked cars. Glass shattered. Tires hissed as they deflated. Car alarms blared, flashing amber and red lights through the parking garage. More cops rushed from the right. Rosa fell into them, her body covered in blood.

So beautiful.

Donna jumped in front of her daughter. A cop’s submachine gun erupted. Donna shuddered, taking the bullets that would have hit Britney. They did not harm the vampiress. With a screech of maternal rage, Donna threw herself at the cop.

Why did Father Augustine have all these cop defend the building? He had to know they would be useless against vampires. They have no special weapons.

Britney furrowed her eyebrows. It didn’t make sense. The priest was a chaplain to vampire hunters—to Damien and Abigail. He knew how to fight the undead. He knew what weapons were effective and what would do nothing.

So why isn’t he using silver or white oak or holy water?

Unease settled into Britney. She cast her gaze about for her Master. A blur streaked across her vision, Mary racing at supernatural speed, gutting cops with her knife and leaving streaks of blood in her wake. The crimson mist of Samantha engulfed a squad of cops pouring out of a utility door. Their guns fired uselessly through her mist as they screamed and died. Abigail mesmerized more cops, turning them into her weapons.

And Damien strode at the far end, ripping car doors off their hinges with his telekinesis and hurtling them into cops, breaking their bodies. He was away from the other vampires, attacking a group of cops falling back.

Or leading him to a trap.

“Master!” Britney shouted and raced across the chaos.

Her bare feet slipped on blood slicking the smooth concrete. Bullets hissed past her. Her mother roared in her wake, attacking and protecting Britney. She ran through Samantha’s mist, caressed by the wet fog, leaving her body dripping in watery blood.


Damien turned to face her.

“It’s a trap!” Britney’s voice echoed.

As she shouted, the air rippled before Britney and a new vampiress appeared, black hair streaking about her face, a wild gleam in her eye. Britney gasped and tried to stop her flight before she crashed into the vampiress.

But Britney’s feet were slicked by blood. She slipped and fell forward. Britney impaled on the silver knife held by the vampiress. Pain shot through Britney. She stared down at the knife buried in her guts. The vampiress smiled and twisted the blade.

Agony flared.

Britney fell onto her back, clutching the gaping wound in her stomach. The vampiress licked the blood from her blade and vanished with a ripple.


Britney’s cry turned Damien around.

The air rippled before him. The tall, blond man who handed Faust over this morning stood before Damien. Abigail called him the German, one of Faust’s three massive thralls, hulking men enhanced by the vampire’s dark ichor like Damien enhanced Britney. Only she was a 110 lb. girl. The German easily weighed a hundred pounds more.

His fist cracked into Damien’s face. The vampire grunted in pain, the bone snapping in his jaw. He crashed into a sedan. The car alarm set off as he bounced off and hit the ground. Damien’s jawbone healed as he rose.

The air shifted to his right. The Texan, another of Faust’s thralls, fired a crossbow bolt at Damien. The vampire dived, the white oak scoring across his back. Fire and pain flared. Damien grunted, rolling across the floor and drawing his machete.

“You fucked my wife,” growled Damien as he glared at the men.

“Yep,” the Texan drawled as he reloaded his crossbow. “And she was mighty fine, too. Came real good on our cocks.”

“Ja, the way she squealed as we fucked her was special,” the German grinned as he rushed in, a silver gladius in hand. He lunged the short, stabbing blade at Damien’s gut.

Damien swiped his machete to the side, deflecting the blade and gaining his feet. He snarled, anger bubbling through him. He hacked with the machete, eager to find the German’s flesh and spill his blood.

“The impotent rage of the cuckold,” laughed the German as he parried with his gladius. “Too late to change the past. Won’t unfuck your wife.”

“But we can always do it again,” the Texan drawled, raising his crossbow.

Damien darted right, forcing the German between him and the Texan. “Faust thought the same thing,” growled Damien. “He thought he could fuck my wife and not pay the price.”

“So she is whore, huh?” the German laughed. “Death’s steep price for her cunt. Her pussy ain’t that good.”

“We filmed it,” the Texan added, moving, circling, trying to get a shot. Damien moved with him. He was faster than the Thralls, his body leaner. “You can watch it over and over. Savor your wife’s passion as real men fucked her.”

Damien feinted to the right, swinging the machete wildly, the stroke of an angry husband. The German grinned, his gladius lunging at Damien’s unprotected side. The vampire twisted his torso as he balanced on one foot and shifted the swing of his machete.

A human would have fallen, overbalanced, his footing bad.

The gladius lunged past Damien’s side, missing by half-an-inch. His machete screamed through the air and struck the German’s neck, cutting through muscled flesh and striking the spine. The machete, designed to chop and propelled by a vampire’s strength, cracked through the vertebrate. Blood fountained as the German’s head spun through the air.

Then his heavy bulk crashed to the ground.

The Texan stood ready, his weapon aimed right at Damien’s chest.

Rosa darted in. She crashed into the Texan’s side, knocking his arm to the right. The crossbow bolt went wide, embedding into a car tire. Air hissed behind Damien as the Texan grappled with Rosa. The vampiress hissed and snarled, her fingers raking the huge thrall’s flesh, leaving bloody scratches behind while her fangs sought his neck.

“Fangwhore,” snarled the Texan as he through Rosa off of him.

The vampiress screamed and landed at Damien’s feet. Somehow, the Texan drew a white oak bolt and slammed it into Rosa’s stomach. The vampiress trembled on the ground, paralyzed by the wood burning her insides.

“Going to paralyze your wife and fuck her again,” bellowed the Texan as he cranked back his crossbow. “She’ll squeal on my cock over and over while that tight cunt massages my dick.”

Rage seized Damien. He roared and threw himself forward. The Texan didn’t flinch. He dropped the crossbow and his right hand darted beneath the suit jacket. It came out with a silver throwing knife. He flicked it.

Damien screamed in pain as it buried into his chest. The silver attacked his body. Pain flared. Damien stumbled and fell to his knees. Agony suffused his body. His undead heart labored as the poisonous silver reached for it.

“Yep,” the Texan grinned and planted a foot on Damien’s shoulder. The Texan pushed. Damien fell on his back. “Gonna fuck all your fangwhores. They’re gonna love my big cock.”

Damien laughed.

“What?” the Texan asked, drawing a thick, silver blade from beneath his jacket. The big man bent over, planting his knee on Damien’s shoulder. The knife, the edge serrated for cutting, lowered to Damien’s throat.

“They wouldn’t feel your small dick.”

The Texan smiled. “Well, I guess you’ll never know. You’ll be down in hell.”

Damien’s telekinesis seized the silver throwing knife embedded in his chest. He wrenched it out, turned the blade, and slammed it into the Texan’s throat. Arterial red sprayed. The big man reached at his throat, gaping as he brushed the blade embedded in him. He pulled the knife out.

A crimson fountain spurted.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he spilled over. “Shouldn’t have … done that.”

Damien heaved the corpse off of him, licking his lips, savoring the Texan’s blood. He had one more thrall to kill for fucking his wife.


The world rippled around Abigail. The vampiress froze in a crouch. Trickles of cop’s blood ran down her body. Silence descended on the parking garage. All the gunshots and screams, the car alarms and crackling fires, ended.

A stillness gripped the garage.

Her eyes flicked about. The cops, the vampiresses, and Damien all vanished. Her ears pricked, straining for any sound. She inhaled, searching for any scents. Only her excitement and the blood dripping from her body caught her nose.

She furrowed her eyebrows. She caught another scent. Feminine. Not Samantha, Rosa, Mary, Donna, Britney, or Vickie.

Abigail spun, following the scent. Her heart beat faster as she crept through the parking garage. The female scent grew stronger as she moved towards the elevators. Abigail moved like a hunter. Stealth, cunning, patience. She wove through the bullet-ridden cars, peering through splintered windows or around fenders, trying to find the source.

Black hair. Dark business suit. Nylon-clad thighs. A woman stood before the elevator. Professionally dressed. One of the office workers? No. Any normal human would be screaming right now.

A vampiress. One of Faust’s serving the priest?

Abigail crept closer. She stilled her breathing. It wasn’t necessary. She slowed her heartbeat. Silent steps. A ghost moving closer. Abigail’s guts squirmed. Nothing was right about this. Something had happened to her.

Illusion. I’m caught in a vampire’s illusion. Hers. Why? Separate me from the others. Isolate and kill me.

A stab of excitement shot through the vampiress. A challenge lay before her.

“Now, Abigail, skulking? What happened to the bold girl that brazenly walked into the liquor store and bought us all our first wine coolers.

Abigail froze. She knew that voice. “Lynette?”

Abigail rose and took a good look at the woman at the elevator. She was young, eighteen, beautiful. She looked the same as Abigail remembered. I’ll see you tomorrow, Abigail had said to Lynette. Tell me how your date with Vincent goes.

I’ll tell you every detail. He’s such a stud. He is getting lucky tonight. Lynette had laughed, a wicked giggle that was at odds with her fresh, Midwestern looks. They had hugged and parted, Lynette waving as she walked from Abigail’s house.

“Hello, Abigail,” Lynette purred, sliding a hand up her body, a sensuous purr.

Abigail strode to her friend. “I searched for you.”

“Well, you finally found me.” A sneer crossed Lynette’s lips. “Are you going to kill me? All those years hunting for me, putting down others of my kind.”

“Maybe.” Abigail paused twenty feet from her friend. “I killed the vampire who turned you.”

Anger mottled Lynette’s face. “I begged Faust to let me kill you. For years, I begged him. Pleaded with him. You took Vincent from me!”

“The vampire who turned you?” Anger flared in Abigail. “The vampire that killed our friends? Of course I killed him. I loved killing him. He was the first. And a girl always remembers her first.”

“Faust finally listened. He finally grew angry enough. You killed so many of his children. Beautiful creatures. We plotted in bed, discussing how best to inflict pain on you and Damien.” Exultation crossed Lynette’s face. “I don’t know how many times I came picturing you suffering before me, begging me to take your life for killing Vincent.”

“I killed Faust, too,” Abigail taunted, striding forward. “I bathed in his blood and fucked my husband while his unlife was still wet on us.”

Lynette shrugged. “Faust was weak. I found a better man to serve.”

“And is killing me one of your perks?” Abigail demanded.

“It can be.” Lynette licked her lips. Lynette hit the elevator button. The doors open. “Ride up to the top. Become Father Augustine’s whore and we can love each other like we used to.” A wicked giggle escaped Lynette. “Remember our slumber parties? Sharing kisses and more in the dark while your mother thought we were sleeping.”

Abigail’s pussy itched at the memory. Damien was the first man she ever lay with, but Lynette was the first person. They had made love, exploring each other’s bodies. Her body ached at the memory of their fumblings.

“I remember,” Abigail purred and rushed Lynette. “But I’m not going to fuck Father Augustine.”

She crashed into Lynette. Suddenly, the vampiress was naked in Abigail’s arms, the clothes rippling away as they fell in a heap before the elevator doors. Abigail became so aware of her naked breasts pressing against Lynette’s, their nipples brushing.

Just like the first time.

Lynette kissed Abigail. Hot lips worked together. Fangs bit, cutting each other’s lips, spicing their passion with blood. Lynette’s fingers clawed at Abigail’s back as Lynette hissed angrily into the kiss. Pain flared through Abigail. She embraced it.

Her hand found Lynette’s round breast. Abigail squeezed, fingernails biting into the soft mound. Lynette shuddered in pain, rubbing her hot, wet cunt into Abigail’s. Both vampiresses’ hips undulated, grinding their clits against each other.

“I’m going to enjoy watching Father Augustine fuck you,” panted Lynette, her hips humping up into Abigail.

“And you’re going to be my husband’s slut,” Abigail hissed, staring into Lynette’s eyes. “We’ll finally have that threesome you always wanted with my boyfriend.”

“Not scared I’ll steal him?” Lynette giggled viciously.


They kissed again. Abigail groaned, her body bursting with excitement. All the cops she killed inflamed her lusts and now Lynette satiated them. The vampiresses snarled and hissed, sharing their passion as their fingernails raked and clawed each other.

“I hate you so much,” Lynette moaned as they rolled into the elevator, her hips undulating harder, grinding her clit into Abigail’s. “You killed Vincent. My Sire. I loved him.”

“I did kill him,” Abigail moaned, her fangs nipping at Lynette’s throat. Salty blood squirted. Abigail shuddered as she fed on her friend.

“And then you hunted me. I fled to Faust in fear of my best friend.” Lynette’s voice burned with passion. She ground their clits harder together,

Such wonderful sparks burst through Abigail every time.

“I hated you while loving you,” panted Lynette. “I dreamed of killing you and then licking your pussy. I wanted to skin you and wear you as a dress. To always be close to you.”

“You can,” Abigail moaned, her lips stained with Lynette’s blood. “I did hunt for you. I wanted to free you from the curse.”

“And now?” Lynette asked, staring down at Abigail. Lynette’s dark eyes softened. “Do you still want to kill me?”

“Only if you make me. Why would I want to set you free from this?” Abigail bucked her hips into her friend’s thrusts as the elevator lurched and rose. “I was a fool for thinking you needed to be liberated from undeath.”

Lynette smiled and kissed Abigail.

The vampiresses writhed together as the elevator rose. Their nipples rubbed together. The scent of their blood and pussies filled the air. Abigail shoved her hand past Lynette’s ass, reaching for wet pussy. Lynette moaned as Abigail penetrated the vampiress’s cunt.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Lynette panted as Abigail fingered her pussy. “Ooh, yes, you’re not scared anymore. Not afraid of the sinful delights women can share.”

“Not anymore,” groaned Abigail in agreement, her clit throbbing with delight every time it brushed Lynette’s. “I love it.”

Abigail fingered Lynette faster as the vampiress’s fangs sank into Abigail’s neck. She shuddered as her friend fed. Her blood pumped into Lynette’s mouth. Her pussy clenched on Abigail’s probing fingers, the silky walls massaging.

“Yes,” panted Abigail, her orgasm swelling. Ecstasy spread from Lynette’s bite. The elevator spun around Abigail. She shoved her fingers deep into Lynette’s pussy, fingernails scraping along sensitive walls, cutting.

Giving Lynette pain to mix with her pleasure.

Lynette moaned into Abigail’s throat. Lynette’s teeth bit harder as her orgasm exploded. The vampiress bucked atop Abigail. Lynette’s pussy spasmed on Abigail’s fingers. Juices flooded out, the tangy flavor of her musk overwhelming Abagail’s senses.

“Just as wicked as I remember,” panted Abigail. “The first time you came, your fingers spasming about mine was wonderful.”

“It would be more wonderful if you joined me,” Lynette purred into Abigail’s ears.

“Yes!” Abigail gasped, her body trembling, her clit aching. Lynette pinched Abigail’s nipple.

Pleasure exploded in Abigail’s depths.

The redheaded vampiress bucked beneath her friend, her lover. Their lips met, hot with Abigail’s salty blood. The pleasure washed through Abigail, soft and sweet. It reached her mind. The vampiress drank in the rapture as she kissed her friend.

The elevator doors opened.

Lynette popped off Abigail and darted out of the elevator. Lynette turned, standing winsome, her thighs glistening with her excitement. She crooked a finger at Abigail. The redheaded vampiress licked her lips, her body heaving with passion.

Abigail wanted more from Lynette, to taste her blood and her pussy. Abigail darted after her friend.


Damien yanked the crossbow bolt from Rosa’s gut, ignoring the shaft burning his palm. He threw it to the side. Rosa groaned, her limbs moving, her hands rubbing at her smoking wound. Then, hissing like a cat, she threw herself on the dead Texan, tearing at his throat.

Damien let her vent her fury and scanned the battlefield. Britney lay wounded nearby, clutching her stomach. Her mother, Donna, knelt beside her. The vampiress met Damien’s gaze. “Did you see where she went, Sire?”


“The bitch who stabbed my daughter.”

Damien shook his head. “She’ll live.”

“I will, Mom,” panted Britney.

“You will,” Vickie said, limping to the group. She had a gash in her leg. A bullet had creased her thigh. Drying blood ran in sheets down to her calf. Vickie sighed as she sank down beside Britney. “Master, the cops are fleeing. They’ve pulled back.”

“To regroup,” Damien smiled.

He surveyed the parking garage. Smoke billowed from burning cars. Sprinklers hissed wherever the smoke rolled across the ceiling. Dead or dying cops littered the parking garage. The final thrall of Faust’s, the Black man, staggered, clutching his spurting knee. He fell to the ground.

A blur streaked by. Blood gushed from the thrall’s throat. He teetered over and fell. Mary appeared out of the streaking blur, her body splattered with drops of blood. The black-haired girl looked around, a pout appearing on their lips.

“They’re all dead, Sire.”

Samantha coalesced out of her crimson mist. Her naked body streaked with dripping blood. It splattered her glasses and clung to her long braid of brown hair. “I chased the last cops out of the south exit, Damien.”

“So there really are no more?” Mary pouted. She leaned against Samantha. “And I was having so much fun.”

“What?” Rosa snarled, turning from the savage Texan’s throat. “No more?”

“There’s still the priest,” Damien growled, looking up at the ceiling, wishing he could peer through all the intervening floors.

“Where’s Abigail?” Samantha asked.

Damien froze, he cast his gaze about. “Abigail?”

His voice echoed through the parking garage, a booming call. He cried again, his ears searching for any sound. None came back. Is she wounded? Dead? He couldn’t catch her scent over the blood and the excitement bleeding off his vampiresses. Juices dripped down all their thighs, mingling with the blood that splattered their bodies.

Damien’s own dick ached in his pants. He wanted to take Abagail, fuck her hard, and cool his ardor before fighting the priest.


“Abigail … Abiga … Abi … A…” echoed back.

“When was the last anyone saw her?”

“She was over there,” Samantha said, pointing towards the elevators. “Look, a few of her mesmerized cops are over there. They killed themselves when they ran out of other cops to kill.”

Damien moved at a run, his boots thudding as he raced through the parking garage. Was she caught up in the trap that almost killed him? A vampire, probably the woman who stabbed Britney, used illusions to hide the Texan and the German.

Damien threw a car out of his way with his telekinesis, running faster. Mary streaked past him, racing over the cars. She appeared on the far side, paused. She breathed in deeply, scenting the air. Damien pushed another car to the side, metal crumpling as it slammed into a red truck.

“I have her scent, Sire,” Mary said. She crouched down, sniffing. “Yes, yes, she was here. She went that way, towards the elevator.”

Damien reached her side. Abigail’s scent was clear, a mix of her tart pussy musk and the unique, salty aroma tinged with her favorite body wash. A scent Damien had smelled on her clothing and her pillow all through their marriage.

“I don’t scent her blood,” Mary added.

“She was lured to the elevator,” Damien growled. “There’s a vampiress about. She can use illusions. Do not trust your senses.”

“Then what do we trust, Sire?” Rosa demanded, joining him.

Damien shook his head. He had no answer. “Donna, stay with the thralls. Protect my women.” “I will, Sire,” the vampiress answered, her voice ringing through the parking garage.

“And what are we doing?” Samantha asked. She bent down, wiping her glasses clean on the uniform of a dead cop.

“Going up.” The priest has my wife and my angel. Damien ached to rip his former friend and chaplain to pieces.


Abigail followed Lynette as she raced down the halls, the hot scent of her pussy drawing Abigail on. Tangy, hot cunt and the promise of Lynette’s salty blood. Heaving passion. Orgasms. Abigail trembled, drunk on the excitement of finding her friend after over a decade of searching.

Lynette flitted naked through a pair of iron doors burst inward, her breasts heaving, bouncing, still firm with her youth. Abigail’s fingers clenched as her own breasts, though still gorgeous, had lost some of their perky firmness.

She caught Lynette just on the other side. Abigail pulled her friend to her. The vampiresses kissed, moaning as their bodies pressed together. A new scent filled Abigail’s nose—salty cum. It overwhelmed her. The wicked scent thickened the air, drowning out everything.

“Yes, yes, yes, Father,” gasped a young woman. “Keep fucking me.”

Abigail moaned, the slap of flesh echoing, the sound of a hard cock sliding into a woman’s tight ass. The grip of bowels on a shaft … The grunt of masculine passion. Abigail shuddered. Her pussy itched as she moaned into Lynette’s lips.

“Whore!” the man yelled.

Father Augustine.

Abigail pulled away from Lynette, sense knifing through Abigail’s lust. The priest, younger than Abigail had ever seen him, his muscles stretching the black fabric of his vestments, threw back his head and groaned. Abigail heard the spurts of cum flood the already filled ass of the blonde spasming on the desk.

“You,” Abigail hissed as a wave of pure lust ran through her. She staggered, drinking in the sight of the priest’s power. “You took … Aurora.” Abigail shook her head. Her nipples ached, her clit throbbed. Her pussy clenched.

She wanted to be fucked.

“Abigail, how wonderful to see you again,” the priest grinned. “Oh, how long I have wanted to see you naked. I knew you were such a whore. Look at yourself. Without shame.”

“She’s such a whore, Father,” Lynette purred, pressing her body behind Abigail. Hard nipples and round breasts rubbed on Abigail’s back while Lynette’s hands slid around Abigail’s hips down to her pussy.

Her dripping pussy.

“She’s so wet for you, Father.”

“No,” Abigail groaned, shaking her head as the lust consumed her.

“I can see the whore’s desire in your eyes, Abigail,” the priest said, his voice orating with the same intensity he preached at mass. He slid his cock from the blonde’s ass.

Abigail’s eyes locked on the large cock, shiny with cum.

“You are but a slave to that sinful hole Lynette plays with,” the priest said, facing Abigail, his cock pointing at her. “I can see the war in you, Abigail. You desire to be faithful to your husband, but your lusts demand that you give in. That you cheat on him.”

“No,” Abigail groaned, shaking her head even as her right foot took a step forward.

Lynette giggled behind her.

“You have lusted for other men. Burned to experience sinful congress with their bodies. Yearned to be penetrated and filled. You did not care who fucked you.

“You just needed to be fucked.”

“No,” Abigail groaned again and walked forward, entranced by the dick.

Lynette let Abigail go. “Yes, yes, that’s it. Worship his dick.”

“How many times did you cheat on Damien?”

“Never,” Abigail panted. “Only when Faust dominated me. When I was … his … slave.”

“But you wanted to.”

Abigail’s pussy clenched. “Yes! So what!” She reached the priest. His cock was there, begging to be sucked. To be fucked. Another shudder ran through Abigail. “I never acted!”


The priest’s words snapped through her. She staggered. The lusts surged in her.

“Fall to your knees and worship it.”

“The cock of cocks,” moaned Lynette as she nuzzled against Abigail’s back again.

What is happening to me? Abigail fell to her knees. The lust radiated out from the priest. He was her enemy. He attacked her, sent his whores to kill her. She shouldn’t be grasping his dick, stroking it, savoring the sour musk of the blonde’s ass.

The angel’s in him. He’s devouring her lust and its infecting me.

Knowing the truth didn’t stop Abigail from leaning forward, her mouth opening. She pressed the tip of the priest’s cock to her lips. Her eyes closed as a wonderful satisfaction rippled through her. Abigail’s pussy clenched as she sealed her lips about the dick and sucked.

The sour flavor of the blonde’s ass mixed with the salty musk of the priest’s cum. It was filthy and subservient to suck his dirty cock. Abigail moaned, her excitement growing as she slid more and more of his cock into her mouth, moaning, her tongue swiping.

Lust gripped her. She had to worship this cock. It dwarfed Damien’s, Faust’s, and all the men she was forced to fuck last night.

The cock of cocks. None was more perfect.

“Yes, I knew you were a whore, Abigail,” groaned the priest, his hand running through her red hair.

Your whore.

Abigail shuddered at the thought. It burned through her. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked harder, eager to clean his cock and worship him. Her hands stroked the base and cupped his balls. Her tongue swirled, gathering the sour flavor of the blonde’s ass while her thighs squeezed together, rubbing on her clit.

“I knew you were a slut. For as long as I knew you, I saw the wanton lust in your eyes. I waited the day you came crying into my confession, weeping over your indiscretion while knowing you had finally awakened to your whorish lust. Like all the other married women of my parish.

“One day, you would have cheated on Damien. And done it again and again. Like Donna. Like Mrs. Parson and Mrs. Tenor. You are all whores, parading your sins before me, exciting me. And now you shall satiate what you stirred. Now all you whores will surrender to me and spread your legs while your husbands watch.

“I will claim you all!”


Abigail sucked harder. She moaned and groaned, her head swiveling. She rubbed the tip of his dick around her mouth, against her cheeks. She took more of him. He brushed the back of her throat. She had to give her all to him. She had to surrender every ounce of herself.

Abigail deep-throated his cock.

She swallowed every inch. She pressed her lips into his pubic hair, felt the curls tickle her flesh, breathed in his manly musk. His balls slapped her chin as he bucked. She moaned and swallowed, massaging and pleasing his dick, eager for him to spurt his cum into her.

Then she slid her mouth up his shaft, sucking the entire way. His groans spurred her on. She squirmed, her clit aching, throbbing. She squeezed her thighs so tight together. Pleasuring the priest’s cock excited her.

She slid her mouth down his cock as she came. The pleasure burst in the vampiress’s nethers. She moaned about the burning shaft as it filled her throat again. Rapture gripped her. The priest groaned louder.

I’m pleasing him!

The pleasure crashed through her mind. She gripped it. Held onto it. She embraced it. The pleasure was amazing, wonderful. It washed over her, left her dizzy. His fingers gripped her hair. He grunted, his balls slapping into her chin as he fucked her mouth.

“Fucking whore! I knew it! You were like all the rest!”

I am!

… Abigail… Aurora whispered. … trapped … help…

“Abigail!” Damien shouted.

“Hallelujah!” the priest cried as he came down Abigail’s throat. The vampiress shuddered as the cum warmed her stomach. A second orgasm crashed through her body on the heels of the first.


Shocked disgust gripped Damien when he entered Faust’s office. Abigail, on her knees, moaning about the priest’s cock. The scent of her lust washed through the air. The ground between Damien and Father Augustine lay strewn with half-unconscious women.

All fucked by the priest.

Rage seized Damien. The priest fucked his wife.

Impotent fury propelled Damien across the room. Blood streamed from his machete as he leaped over the fallen women. The priest’s head threw back as he came. Abigail’s throat worked. She swallowed, noisily, with delight.

She’s worshiping his cock! Why?

Damien roared.

The white oak crossbow bolt embedded into his chest at his sternum. Pain flared, burned. The purity embedded in the core of his body paralyzed him. His legs ceased to work in mid sprint. He pitched forward, landing on his side and rolling onto his back, his head lolling.

Stared at his wife as she popped her lips off the priest’s dick and stared up at Father Augustine with such worship.

Like she had for Faust.

“Abigail,” Damien groaned as his wife licked her lips.

“His cock,” his wife breathed. “What a cock. I have to feel it in me, Damien. I have to. It’s so huge. So big.”

“She’s a slave to her hole,” the priest roared, his dick still hard.

Abigail bent over the desk. Beside it, the air rippled and two women appeared, the blonde who rescued the priest this morning holding a crossbow and … Lynette. His wife’s missing friend, the vampiress controlling illusions.

“No,” Damien croaked, wishing he could move. He struggled to wiggle fingers, toes. “No, Abigail! You’re my wife.”

“It’s his cock,” Abigail panted, wiggling her hips at the priest. “Fuck me, Father! I need it! Please! Pound me! Give me that cock and make me moan!”

“Kill him!” snarled Damien. “Rosa, Mary, rip him apart.”

“But his cock, Sire,” Mary gasped, appearing beside the desk, her hand reaching to grab the dick.

Samantha flowed around to the other side followed by Rosa. All three vampiresses stared at the priest with worship. They stroked his thick shaft and guided him to Abigail’s waiting pussy. Damien bucked, roaring his rage, ignoring the purity stabbed into his chest.

“No, Abigail! Please!”

“Fuck me, Father!” Abigail moaned. “I need you in me. I want your cock! I want to cum!”

Her words knifed through Damien.

The priest thrust into Abigail. She tossed back her head. Damien’s wife moaned her pure, unabashed delight as the cock stuffed her pussy. She shuddered and bucked on the desk, slamming her hips back into his thrusts.

“So good,” she groaned. “It’s so good. I love it. Keep pounding me, Father! Oh, yes! This cock!”

“Hurry and cum in her so I can feel your dick again, Father,” Mary moaned, humping against the priest’s side.

“You are my women!” Damien snarled. “I made you, Mary! Rosa! You are mine! Kill him!”

“How can we serve you before him?” Rosa moaned. “How can we war against this man? He’s perfect.”

“All women are whores craving the strongest,” the priest grunted, his balls smacking into Abigail’s flesh. “And none are stronger than me!”


Damien’s roar echoed through the room, mixing with Abigail’s pants and moans. The married vampiress shook and shuddered on the desk, her face twisted with passion. Her green eyes flashed and her breasts jiggled as she arched her back.

Damien fought against the agony burning in his chest. He struggled to move. He reached out with his telekinesis and grabbed the bolt. He jerked at it. The head was barbed. Pain seared through him, the agony drowning out the humiliation of his wife’s moans.

“Fuck me, Father! Oh, yes! Keep ramming that dick in me! Oh, god! Oh, fuck! Yes!”

Abigail’s orgasmic delight forced Damien to keep pulling on the bolt. Bone cracked. Flesh ripped. Smoke burst from his chest. His innards burned but he wouldn’t stop. He would prove to his fickle whores he was the strongest.

He would kill every man who touched his wife.

“Keep fucking me!” Abigail screamed. “Keep making me cum!”

Her tart excitement filled Damien’s nose. He could hear her pussy spasm about the priest’s cock, the wet thrusts of his dick, the juices raining on the floor as they fell from her cunt. She gushed for the priest.

Damien wrenched the bolt from his chest with his thoughts. Control returned to his body. Smoke billowed from the blackened hole in his sternum as Damien rose. He seized the bolt in his hand, embracing the searing pain as his palms burned.

He charged the priest fucking his wife. Father Augustine’s face twisted, too caught up in ramming his dick into Abigail’s cunt to notice Damien. All the vampiress’s were fixed on the union of the priest’s flesh and Abigail.

Damien stabbed.

The sharp point of the crossbow bolt slammed into the priest’s neck at his jugular.

The wood splintered and snapped.

Not a drop of blood was shed.

Damien gaped as he stared at the unmarred flesh of the priest. Not a drop of blood. Not even a red mark.

“What are you?” Damien gasped.

The priest’s hand shot out and seized Damien’s neck. Iron fingers crushed his throat. The priest lifted the vampire from the floor while his hips never stopped fucking Abigail. “I am the man you will grovel before. I am the man who claims your wife and whores.

“I am king, born once more to rule mankind.”

Damien gurgled as the fingers tightened, crushing his trachea, cutting off his breathing.

“And your Abigail shall be my queen!”

“Yes!” Abigail shouted. “Cum in me! Yes, yes! Flood me with your seed! Keep infecting me with Aurora’s lust! I love it! I need it! Make me cum!”


Chapter 15: Angelic Lusts

Damien D’Angelo thrashed in the inhuman grip of the priest. Iron fingers clenched tight about the vampire’s throat. He could not snarl and rage at the priest who fucked his wife, pounding Abigail hard as she lay bent over the desk in Faust’s office at the peak of the skyscraper.

Shame, humiliation, rage, and pain clenched Damien’s blackened soul. His wife’s every gasp and pleasure-filled moan stabbed into his undead heart. She loved the priest’s cock, addicted to its girth spreading wide her pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes,” gasped Abigail, her fiery hair thrashing. “Keep fucking me with that cock!”

“Is it the best?” Mary asked. The first vampiress Damien sired watched the priest fuck Abigail, Mary’s bloody hands fingering her cunt.

“Yes, is it, Dam?” gasped Samantha, her eyes wide behind her glasses. Abigail had sired the vampiress.

“It’s better than Sire’s,” laughed Rosa, glancing at Damien, contempt in her dark eyes.

“So much better,” moaned Abigail.

All Damien’s women had abandoned him for the priest, and Father Augustine reveled in his triumph. Around him, other women moaned and gasped. Over thirty, each leaking the priest’s cum from their cunts and asses or splattered with drying lines of pearly jizz.

The priest had conquered them all. Conquered my Abigail.


“Such a fucking amazing cock!” screamed Abigail as she came on the priest cock.

Father Hyrum Augustine, the first nephilim to walk the earth in millennia, reveled in her cunt’s tight grip spasming about his thrusting cock. Pleasure rushed down the priest’s cock as he savored the married vampiress’ silky flesh. She bucked and gasped while Damien watched on in defeated horror.

Cuckolded. Bested.

“Yes,” roared the priest. “Worship my cock, Abigail. You’re mine!”

“Yours! Just keep fucking me!” Her head tossed back, her juices flooding out of her whorish cunt, perfuming the air with her tart excitement.

“See, Damien,” exulted the priest. “What fickle whores women are! Sinful, deceitful creatures always on the prowl for the best cock! And none are better than mine!”

“None!” gasped the cumming vampiress.

“Yours is the best, Father,” panted Joy as she fucked a dildo in and out of her asshole, the shaft lubed by the priest’s cum.

“So good,” Lynette shuddered, rubbing her cunt on the corner of Faust’s desk.

“Every woman is a whore, Damien. Your wife. Your thralls. They can’t help themselves submit to the better man.”


Father Augustine savored Damien’s crushing defeat, emasculated by the priest’s superior cock. He thrust harder into Abigail’s cunt, the married vampiresses flesh clutching and sucking, eager for another load of cum to flood her sinful pit. Her orgasm still rippled through her. Damien winced at every gasp and cry.

Ecstasy boiled in the priest’s balls. Fucking Abigail’s wanton hole was more satisfying than he had fantasized. Clenching. Hot. Silky. Wet. Married cunt gripped his cock, burning with whorish sin.

“She is mine now!”

“I’m sorry, Damien! He’s … just … too … much!” Abigail spasmed again as the whore came again.

The priest’s hand tightened on Damien’s throat as the pleasure exploded out of Augustine’s cock. Hot cum flooded Abigail’s unholy womb. The priest groaned through clenched teeth. Rapture consumed him.

You’ve crushed him, chortled the feminine voice.


Abigail’s flaming hair tossed. “Yes, flood me with your cum!”


…. yes … flood me … with your … cum…

The words penetrated Aurora’s prison. The corrupted angel lifted her head, her crimson wings flapping in the void. Jezebel’s demonic soul engulfed Aurora’s, imprisoning the angel and siphoning off her powers, feeding the to Faust.

“Abigail?” Aurora asked, frowning. A spark of hope kindled in her breast. “Can you hear me, Abigail?”

“She can’t hear you, my angel slut,” Jezebel answered, her voice hissing from all directions, resounding through the angel’s prison. “You cannot touch the world. You’re stuck in here with me. Forever. My pet. My prisoner. My angel slut.” Jezebel’s rich, throaty laugh echoed through the dark cell. “Oh, the games we shall play. The sins we shall commit.”

Aurora knew Jezebel was right. The angel understood her prison. Others of her kind, fallen and vulnerable in ages past, had been trapped by demons, used as the fuel consumed by the flames of Nephilim. Only the exorcism of Jezebel or the slaying of Father Augustine would free her.

But I heard Abigail. How?

… yes … fuck my … ass…

Abigail’s moan penetrated the prison and rang through Aurora’s thoughts, sonorous and passionate. I can feel her lusts. I am a succubus. Corrupted beyond a normal fallen angel. And Father Augustine is feeding on my lusts.

… vacant…

And those lusts touched Abigail. A part of me touches Abigail.

… your whore…

Aurora focused on the voice. She sent her thoughts after them, flowing with the energy. She hit the barrier of her prison. Her mind recoiled as her energy flowed out through tiny holes. Aurora’s mind was too big to squeeze through, her thoughts too complex.

… oh … damien … it’s so good … i’m his … whore … i love it … i love … his cock…

But not a single thought. An impulse. Something, anything. What?

… someone better … damien…

An idea. Trying to send a message seemed futile to the angel. What could Abigail do while locked in Faust’s passion. She was as much a prisoner as Aurora. But the angel still remembered hope. Damien’s corruption had not wholly consumed her flesh.

… i am … father augustine’s … whore…

Aurora sent out her thought.

Beneath the overwhelming lust, guilt touched the vampiress’s soul. Abigail D’Angelo quaked, her pussy erupting from another all-consuming orgasm. Her pussy spasmed about the priest’s cock while her moans sang through the room.

But her eyes witnessed the pain in Damien’s eyes.

The small kernel of awareness, not swept up by the tide of lust spilling through her, begged to cry out, “Don’t look, Damien. I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. He’s too big.” But instead she moaned, “Yes, yes! Your cock!” as the priest’s cum dumped into her soiled pussy.

Damien thrashed again, impotent, helpless. The priest was too strong.

His cock too amazing.

Abigail groaned, her orgasm still rippling through her body, as the priest withdrew his cock slowly, painfully slowly. Her clenching flesh gripped his dick, feeling every inch of him pull out until her pussy gaped open, begging to be filled.

“Fuck me,” moaned Abigail.

I’m sorry, Damien.

“I need your cock! Please, please, fuck me!”

“But where should I fuck you, whore? You have surrendered your cunt to me. You’ve begged with all the wanton sin of womanhood for my dick. Where else can I use my cock on your flesh? Where else do you need it, slut?”

“Anywhere. Just fill me! Give me that dick!”

I’m such a whore, Damien. I’m so sorry. But his cock. It is magnificent.

The priest’s free hand pulled her right butt-cheek to the side, exposing her sphincter. “Beg me to use your ass, slut. Beg me to ream your filthy hole. Only degradation will satiate your wanton lusts.”

“Yes! Fuck my ass!”

“While your husband watches?”

“Absolutely! Please, please, fuck my ass, Father. I need it. I need to be filled. I’m so empty without your cock. Vacant.”

“You are such a whore!”

“I am!” Abigail wiggled her butt. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I need this, Damien. I need this. “Fuck my ass, Father! Pound it! Fuck me hard! Hurt me! Give me pain and agony!”

“See her sin manifest, Damien,” laughed the priest. “I am doing you a favor. I have exposed your wife for what she truly is.

“A whore!”

The priest slammed his dick deep into her bowels. Pain and pleasure roared through the vampiress. Her back arched, rubbing her hard nipples into Faust’s desk. The vampiress loved it. She shuddered, licking her lips, drinking in all the excitement as her asshole gripped the wonderful, thick cock slamming into her depths.

Heavy balls thudded into her taint. Heavy with more cum. Abigail’s hips undulated. She clenched her bowels. The more friction the more pleasure. And she craved so much pleasure. She wanted the friction to burn through her and leave her gasping and shuddering in wanton delight.

Abigail wanted to cum.

“Yes, yes, use my ass, Father! Use it! I’m your whore!”

“Tell your husband how much you love my cock,” groaned the priest.

“Yes, yes, tell Sire,” panted Mary.

“Oh, please, can you fuck me next, Father,” panted Samantha.

Abigail shuddered, glancing up at her husband as he struggled, his strong hands beating at Father Augustine’s arms, his legs kicking at the priest’s side. He was too weak. The priest too strong. A surge of wanton, filthy lust shuddered through her.

It was hot being fucked before her husband. It turned her on and shamed her at the same time. She was the priest’s whore, and her husband witnessed it. She was laid bare before Damien, her lusts unveiled for him to see.

“Oh, Damien, it’s so good. I’m his whore! I love it! I love his cock.”

The fight in Damien ended. He hung loose in the priest’s hand, resigned.

More shame filled Abigail. It mixed with her lust, feeding it. The dark passion crashed through Abigail. Her body bucked as her orgasm exploded through her. She gasped and squirmed. Her bowels convulsed about his dick as juices and the priest’s cum flooded out of her cunt and washed down her thighs. The scent filled the air.

The vampiresses around her and the human women already fucked by Father Augustine added their own scents. They all masturbated now, aching to be filled by the priest’s cock. Amid the shame and lust crashing through Abigail was pride.

I’m the woman he fucks. The whore he wants the most. He’s already cum twice and still he fucks me.

“I want him to cum in me, Damien,” Abigail cried out, her lusts forcing her to say those shameful words. The more she embraced her dark, humiliating passions the greater her pleasure swelled. It was a vicious cycle, driving her to hurt her husband worse and worse so she could enjoy the priest’s cock more and more. “I want his cum to fill my body day and night. I want to be impaled on his cock! I love it, Damien!”

“What a whore is woman!” cried out the priest with all the passion of a preacher orating a Sunday sermon. “What a depraved work she is. Consumed by her inequities, driven by her passions, slave to her wanton desires. She must be constantly tamed or she wanders. She must be kept on her knees, on her back, submitting to her man or another will steal her.

“Someone stronger. Someone better.”

“Yes, yes, someone better, Damien!” Abigail screamed as another orgasm burst through her body.

The humiliation in her husbands eyes drove the dark hunger inside the vampiress. She glutted on it. Her pleasure engulfed her mind. Transcended bliss hit her. Peaks of passions she had never experienced before. The world swam about her.

She heaved on the desk. Wood cracked as her fists drummed against it. Every nerve in her undead body rejoiced while her soul ripped itself in half, the pain of hurting Damien transforming into the sweetest bliss.

“I am Father Augustine’s whore!”

… you are not his whore… Aurora whispered out of the lusts pouring through Abigail’s body. … he abuses my lust…

“Aurora?” Abigail gasped, casting her gaze around her. She stared back at the priest and it all crystallized. The hungers that consumed Abigail weren’t her own. She didn’t lust for the priest. He merely infected her with Aurora’s power. The angel was in him, trapped, reaching out.

“What?” growled the priest as he buried his cock into Abigail’s asshole.

“It’s not your cock … I love,” panted Abigail, her pleasure still wracking her body. “But the lust … from Aurora. She’s in him … Damien … feeding him … infecting me … Oh, fuck, yes!”

Pleasure consumed Abigail’s mind.

Abigail’s words cut through Damien’s despair.

He lifted his eyes, staring at his wife. For a moment, her green depths cleared of passion as she spoke those words. A surge of hope shot through Damien. His wife wasn’t the priest’s whore. She was infected by him.

She needs me.

Aurora needs me.

“Whore, you worship my cock!” snarled Father Augustine, fucking Damien’s wife harder.

She moaned and gasped, lost to the lust again, poisoned by it, forced to hurt Damien. The dark, depraved lust would feed Aurora the most. She would want Abigail to perform the vilest sex acts, to humiliate herself and others.

And now so does the priest.

His angel was in the priest, trapped. Damien had to rescue her somehow. The vampire only had one weapon, his gift. Every vampire had one. Abigail could mesmerize with her gaze, Rosa could walk in sunlight, Mary could move with blurring speed.

And Damien could use telekinesis.

He reached out his thoughts towards Father Augustine and touched him. The priest grunted and snarled, pounding Abigail’s ass without mercy, consumed with lust. He has to make her take her words back. Abigail has to be his whore.

Damien caught flickers of thoughts. He wasn’t sure why. His power was telekinesis. It was an act of desperate hope to reach out, and yet there was something surrounding the priest, a dark nimbus of malevolent thought. An entity who reacted with something pumping through Damien’s blood.

The nimbus latched onto Damien’s telekinesis. The alien thoughts in the priest seized Damien’s and hauled his soul from his body. He fell through darkness into the priest’s corrupted soul. Shock flooded the vampire as he stood on nothing in a void, buffeted by the priest’s lusts.

A woman stood before him. She appeared young, youthful, eighteen, but her violet eyes were ancient. A predatory smile crossed her schoolgirl face while black-feathered wings spread behind her. Her body was petite, her dark-red nipples hard.

“Jezebel,” Damien growled as he rose in the priest’s soul.

“Well, this is a surprise,” the sultry voice of the demon purred.

… sir, please, save me…

Aurora’s voice came from the demon. Damien narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. “You have my property, Demon.”

“And you think you can take her back?” laughed Jezebel.


Jezebel had seen many strange things in her eons of life, but never had a vampire’s blackened soul appeared before when she possessed another. It should not have been possible for Damien to fall into the priest. Not even if Damien possessed the ability to astral project like some of his foul ilk could.

And yet he is here. How?

Damien snarled and launched himself at Jezebel. The demon danced back, her wings flapping. The violence tore at the priest’s soul. Like when Aurora entered to challenge Jezebel this morning, their battle inflicted harm on Father Augustine.

Damien moved fast. His talent as a fighter translated into his perception of himself here. His fist struck Jezebel in the face, sparking black energy and sending her reeling back. Jezebel stumbled, rubbing her jaw and staring at him.

“You have a bit of me in you,” the demon purred.

“What?” Damien growled as he lunged his hands to grapple the demon.

She tried to dodge, but he was fast. He caught her right wrist, spun her around and twisted it behind her back. Pain flared through Jezebel as his free hand grabbed her other arm, pinning it to her side.

“You fed on … Donna,” Jezebel smiled. “One of my familiars. The priest transformed her for me. And now her blood is in you. My power is in you. That is very interesting.”

“I don’t care,” Damien growled, maneuvering her arms. He seized both her wrists in one hand, his grip powerful. His other wrapped around her body and seized her by the throat. “Release Aurora or I will kill you.”

Jezebel laughed. “Why kill me when you can fuck me?”

The demon diverted the power she siphoned from Aurora, denying it to the priest and giving it to Damien. Lust poured into the vampire. Every muscle in his body tensed. His cock went hard, jabbing into the demon’s ass.

“Mmm, doesn’t that feel wonderful,” purred the demon. She undulated her ass, rubbing on his throbbing cock. “Don’t you just want to satiate yourself.”

“No,” he groaned, his voice throaty. “I want my angel back.”

“But she’s my pet. You can join her.”

Damien’s hand tightened on her neck for a moment. She shuddered and moaned. His dick ached so hard. He trembled, fighting against the angel’s lusts. But he was weak, his soul ultimately mortal and corruptible.

“You can know my flesh. I can satiate your hard cock. Release me and you shall have every delight known to the universe. Every nerve stimulated.”

His dick throbbed against her. He growled but his grip relaxed. He released her arms to hug her from behind. His hands found her small breasts, tweaking her nipples as his hips pumped against her, sliding his dick through the cheeks of her ass.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” purred Jezebel. “Mmm, satiate your lusts.”

“Let me fuck you,” panted Damien. “Please, I need it.”

“You do,” she moaned, “but you’ve been so bad. You need to earn my pussy.”

“How? Anything!”

Jezebel laughed and twisted in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his muscular chest. She loved his physical strength. It mattered not at all. Strength of spirit was all that mattered, and Damien’s soul was an infant compared to hers.

“Kneel and pleasure your Mistress, Damien.”

“Yes,” he groaned, his dark eyes burning. His hard cock throbbed against her stomach, leaking precum.

Then he fell to his knees before her, staring up at her with adoration. His strong hands gripped her thighs as he pressed his face between her thighs. She shuddered as his masculine lips found her pussy. He ate her hard, fast, frantic. His tongue slid through her folds, brushing her clit.

“Yes, yes, that’s it, worship your Mistress.”


Father Augustine fucked Abigail hard, fast. He ignored the pain throbbing in his chest. The pain didn’t matter. He was strong. He had to force Abigail to admit the truth and say his cock made her wet. That she was his whore.

She lusts for me, not for some angel. Lying cunt!

“Say how much you love my cock!” he growled and cracked his hand hard on her ass.

She moaned in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Oh, it’s the angel’s lusts. It makes your cock seem wonderful. But it’s not. Mmm, no it’s not. Any cock would feel amazing with Aurora’s desires flooding in me.”

“Fucking whore! Stop lying!”

“Yes, stop lying,” Mary hissed.

“Sire was weak. The priest is stronger, better,” gloated Rosa. “You’re such a bitch, Abigail. Weak like my Sire.”

And then the lusts fled Father Augustine. His dick went limp in Abigail’s asshole. He shook his head, exhaustion swirling around him. The energy that filled him, sent to him by the feminine voice, withdrew. Not all of it, but enough for him to feel the exhaustion from an entire day’s worth of fucking. He let go of Damien. The vampire fell limp to the floor, unconscious.

“What?” he demanded. “Why have you withdrawn from me?”

The vampiresses shook their hands, lust fading from their eyes. Their horny moans ended. Abigail rose from the desk while the other four stopped masturbating fiercely. Joy looked at the priest, concern painting her face. The priest grit his teeth, fighting the exhaustion.

“Answer me? What is going on?”

“You’ve lost Aurora’s lust,” Abigail hissed. “You fucking asshole.”

“You made me beg for your cock,” Lynette snarled, sliding alongside Abigail. Faust’s former pet glared at the priest while Abigail bared her fangs.

“That disgusting cock,” Abigail added, glancing at Lynette. “We should teach him a lesson.”

“Yes.” Anger flashed in both vampiress’ eyes.

Abigail and Lynette lunged at the priests, hissing with fury, their fangs flashing. They crashed into the priest, fingernails scratching at his skin as their teeth tried to find his flesh. The priest grunted, seized them, threw them to the ground.

He still had his strength. Most of it. But the voice had withdrawn power. Why?

Samantha and Mary followed, leaping at the priest, howling their fury.

Abigail rolled to her feet, a vicious smile on her face. Fear beat in the priests heart. He needed all the power. He threw Samantha across the room. She slammed into one of the large windows looking out on Chicago. Her body cracked the thick glass before she fell to the floor.

“Oh, we are going to feast on you, Father,” Abigail promised as she stood up.

Rosa crashed into Abigail.


Abigail grunted as Rosa slammed into her side. The two vampiresses hit the floor in a ball. Rosa’s fingernails went for Abigail’s throat, ripping and tearing. Abigail grunted and planted her knee into Rosa’s stomach and heaved her off.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Abigail gasped as Rosa tumbled away.

The Latina vampiress rolled into a crouch, her dark eyes feral, her tits heaving. “Freedom from Damien’s collar!”

“He sired you,” Abigail gasped in shock.

“And you rebelled against your sire,” sneered Rosa. “Why are you surprised I’m rebelling against mine?”

Anger soared through Abigail. Behind her, Samantha, Mary, and Lynette fought the weakened priest. Abigail wanted to rip off the priest’s cock, but she had to take care of the bitch before her. “My husband owns you, cunt.”

“Not any longer. He’s too weak to stand up to the priest.”

Rosa’s hand shot out and snatched up a white oak crossbow bolt from Joy’s discarded quiver. Rosa grimaced. Smoke curled around the vampire’s fist as she rose. She held the crossbow bolt like an ice pick.

“I’ll kill you first,” Rosa smiled. “I want Damien to suffer.”

“He gifted you immortality.”

Exultation burned in Rosa’s eyes. “That was his mistake. Men think with their dicks too much.”

Abigail hissed and lunged at Rosa. Their feet slapped on the tiled floors. They stepped over the half-conscious women and clashed. Rosa slashed with the bolt, her hand trailing smoke. Abigail twisted her body, moving, dodging.

Rosa had enhanced strength and reflexes, but she was new to fighting. Abigail knew her body. She had spent over a decade fighting vampires as a regular human. Her transformation had honed her instincts and skills to deadly perfection.

But Rosa had a weapon.

The bolt blurred as it sought to find Abigail’s flesh. The vampiress darted back then circled Rosa. Abigail kept moving, waiting, watching. Rosa screeched and hissed, her attacks furious but uncoordinated.

“You and Damien are both so weak,” Rosa laughed as she lunged in. “Caring about our prey. Keeping me from feasting.”

“Caring about survival,” sneered Abigail. “Do you have any idea what is out there? The forces that hunt our kind? You would be killed in a week.”

“Like any human could kill me!”

Rosa lunged hard. Abigail caught Rosa’s wrist. The vampiress gasped as Abigail twisted the hand clutching the crossbow bolt and drove the white oak shaft into Rosa’s chest. The vampiress’s eyes widened. Her body went limp as the parallelization took over.

Rosa crumpled to the ground.

“I killed my first vampire at eighteen,” Abigail sneered. “Four of us, humans, untrained, unskilled, killed him. Sure two of us died, but that didn’t matter. He was dead.”

Rosa stared up at Abigail. “Please … don’t.”

“Kill you?” Abigail planted her foot on Rosa’s throat. “Do you think Damien would forgive your betrayal? Do you really think he’s weak?”

“Yes … he wouldn’t want … one of his women … killed.”

“But you’re not one of his women any longer.” Abigail bent down and grasped Rosa’s head. She squeezed the vampiress’ skull, getting a firm grip. “You tried to kill me. You’re no better than Faust.”

“I’m sorry.”

Abigail twisted. Meat tore. Bones popped. Rosa’s head ripped from her body, blood spurting dark across the floor and forming a lake of crimson. The vampiress died. Abigail held her head then tossed it to the side. Before it stopped rolling, it desiccated black and then became dust.

The blonde whore of the priest fought with Lynette, shattering through the illusions conjured by the vampiress. Samantha and Mary pummeled the priest. He fell to his knees, covering himself as the two vampiresses tore at his flesh. His cassock shredded, blood oozing down his body.

“I need the power back!” snarled the priest. “Why have you forsaken me?”

Abigail didn’t care why he was weakened. Her fingers flexed. She stepped over her husband’s body, hoping he still lived, as she marched on the priest. He had to pay for violating her body and forcing her to say all those disgusting words.

“Yes!” growled the priest. “YES!”

His voice boomed through the room. Windows shattered. Abigail staggered. Such power brimmed in his shout. He rose. A single blow cracked Mary in the skull, throwing the vampiress into an unconscious heap. Samantha turned to vapor. He seized her mist and she reformed in his hand.

“Traitorous bitch.”

He smashed her into the floor. Samantha groaned and spasmed.

“And you.” The priest fixed mad eyes on Abigail. “You will admit the truth. You! Loved! My! Cock!”

The priest lunged at Abigail, a black blur, moving as fast as Mary. Abigail gasped, his fist suddenly about her throat. He lifted her into the air, his hand squeezing her. She kicked and struggled, her fingernails scratching at his arm.

It was like scratching diamond.

He brought her to the desk an slammed her down onto her back. The wood groaned and cracked. The desk wobbled beneath her, still held together but coming closer and closer to shattering. The priest brandished his cock, stroking it hard again.

“You will love my cock again!” he snarled.


“Fuck her,” Jezebel hissed, staring up into the dark void, speaking to the priest. “Dominate her again.”

Lust still gripped Damien. His tongue licked and explored the demon’s cunt. Her spicy musk filled his nose and stained his lips. He loved her flavor. His dick ached to fuck her even as the strength of her lust waned.

A part of Damien realized she diverted energy back to the priest. Not all of it. She kept back the lusts. They poured into Damien, compelling him to keep licking her cunt. His dick had to be satisfied and if he pleased her he would get his release.

It angered and humiliated him that he submitted. He was helpless again, helpless before his lusts like he was helpless to stop Faust and Father Augustine from fucking his wife. Abigail’s moans echoed through his mind, memories of both times she cuckolded him echoing together, merging so it seemed both the vampire and the priest fucked her at once, an amalgamation that drove his hatred.

“Oh, yes,” panted Jezebel. “Mmm, you’re even more eager. I love it. Keep licking me that hard and you’ll make me cum.”

… keep a hold … of that anger … sir… Aurora whispered. … embrace it … it protects you … from my … lusts…

Damien ripped his heart to pieces as he recalled every wanton moan Abigail made as she writhed on Faust’s and Father Augustine’s cocks. Every buck, every orgasm, every ripple of pleasure across her face. He seized it while his tongue kept licking through the demon’s cunt. His hands clenched on Jezebel’s ass.

“Mmm, yes, you love your Mistress’s cunt. Once I cast your soul out of here, I’ll make Augustine fuck your ass. And you’ll beg for it. Beg to be his boy toy while your wife is his slut.”

His anger spiked even harder. He snarled into her cunt as he plunged his tongue deep into her hot depths. He hated how hard his cock was. Hated the urge to obey her and bend over and accept the priest’s cock like a true cuckold.

… yes … yes … sir … now use … that anger … free me … lash out … with your … telekinesis … break my … prison…

Damien focused all his rage and humiliation into a single, concentrated thought. He thrust it like a dagger, following the trail of Aurora’s whispers. Jezebel gasped above him as his telekinesis knifed through her soul, piercing into a prison and creating the tiniest of holes.

Yes, yes, Sir, Abigail shouted, her thoughts so much clearer. She touched his telekinesis. Now rip me free.

Damien heaved against the prison. He growled. Jezebel screamed and released his hair. She stumbled back, her head waving wildly as she clutched at her stomach. She fixed her violet eyes on Damien.

“You!” she hissed. “What are you… ? No!”

The sea of anger and shame poured Damien’s thoughts. He heaved open Aurora’s prison, ripping the demon’s soul. She screamed in agony as a head emerged from her stomach. Black hair dangled as Aurora pulled herself out. Her shoulders emerged and then her large breasts and crimson wings. They flapped as she wiggled.

Damien gained his feet. He rushed to her and seized her arm.

“Sir!” she cried out in delight as he pulled her into his arms and out of the demon’s soul.

His angel hugged him, her wings wrapping about his body. His cock ached against her flesh, her nipples hard against his. She laughed and cried into his neck, her body shaking in his embrace. His angel was freed. His angel was his.

“Nooooo!” howled the demon.

Damien smiled.


Aurora’s soul sang for joy in Damien’s arms. Her vampire. He had come for her. Rescued her from her own hubris. She was weak, her lusts uncontrollable. She needed to be leashed to a will, focused and directed.

She needed to be Damien’s.

Jezebel hissed behind her.

Anger replaced joy. It transformed into hatred and then to the purest odium. “Sir,” Aurora purred, twisting in Damien’s arms, “we have a demon to deal with.”

“Yes,” Jezebel purred, her hand sliding down to rub at her pussy.

Lusts seized Aurora. The demon pulled her fingers from her cunt and flicked her juices through the air. The scent beckoned Aurora. She had to feast and feed her hungers. Her soul ached and her pussy clenched to worship the demon’s cunt.

But she also had her master’s cock to serve. To love. His girth pressed into her hip, hard and throbbing. She focused on it, on his precum smearing into her skin. She absorbed his lust, removing it from his body, allowing him to think clearly.

“Sir, what shall we do with her?” purred Aurora. “The demon-slut promised you satisfaction, but it feels like she failed to deliver.”

“Yes, she did,” Damien growled.

Jezebel sauntered closer, her petite body bursting with all the promise of youthful delight. She cupped her small breasts and pinched dark-red nipples. “I’m right here. Come worship my body.”

Aurora moved first, her crimson wings flapping and carrying her through the priest tumultuous soul. She seized Jezebel and pressed her body against the demon. Jezebel purred as their nipples kissed. Then the demon seized Aurora’s face.

“You will be mine again. Don’t you want to be my whore. I’ll summon my—”

Aurora seized a nipple and twisted. The demon’s words cut off in a moan of painful pleasure. The demon shuddered. Like the vampires, agony and rapture were linked, both merging together, giving them bliss.

“You’re the one that needs to kneel,” Aurora hissed into the demon’s ear. “You have a cock to please.”

Aurora delighted in the rapture crossing Jezebel’s face followed by realization. The demon shook her head. Fingers smeared in demonic cunt rubbed against Aurora’s body, sweeping up to her bountiful breasts, infecting her with desire.

“You have to submit to me,” gasped the demon. “You have to sin with me.”

“But God has given me Damien and his wonderful cock to serve,” Aurora whispered. “The Lord has provided me with a dick to fuck. Don’t you want to experience it in your whorish cunt?”

Aurora shoved her hand between the demon’s thighs and rubbed at her wet pussy. Jezebel groaned, her body shifting, lust infecting her. Aurora glanced at Damien. He nodded his approval, standing strong and proud, her lusts in his hands.

“You have to … submit…” panted the demon. Her hand shot out. Her sword formed.

Aurora’s fingers rubbed at the demon’s clit. A moan escaped Jezebel’s lips. She shuddered, her knees buckled, and then she collapsed. Her breasts jiggled as she knelt. Damien approached and Aurora seized the demon’s black hair.

“Which hole would you prefer, Sir?”

Damien thrust his cock into Jezebel’s open mouth. The demon grunted and gurgled as the vampire’s cock speared down her throat. Aurora smiled, her pussy clenching every time Damien’s heavy balls slammed into the demon’s throat.

“Is her mouth wonderful, Sir?” Aurora asked. She moved to him and pressed her body into his strong back. She rubbed her clit into his muscular ass, pumping with him, matching his rhythm as she ground on him. She drank his lusts as they poured out of him. “Does she please you?”

“Yes,” growled Damien. “The fucking slut greatly pleases me.”

“Good,” laughed Aurora.

Her lips nibbled on Damien’s neck. Her clit ached against his ass. He was so strong. She rubbed her breasts into his back, her nipples bursting with excitement. “She’s the one that really cuckolded you, Sir. Fuck her mouth hard. Punish her.”

“You made my wife say those vile words,” snarled Damien. “You made her addicted to the priest’s cock!”

“She did, Sir!”

Damien fucked Jezebel harder. Aurora’s pussy spasmed. Wicked waves of heat rushed through the angel’s body. Her crimson wings twitched and flapped. She savored the wet, obscene sound of the demon sucking on Damien’s cock, his shaft thrusting down her throat.

Aurora’s clit ached on Damien’s ass. She ground harder, loving his power. Her juices coated his ass as her orgasm built and built. Her hands stroked his stomach and chest, drinking in all his strength as she nibbled on his neck.

“Cum down her throat,” gasped Aurora. “Make her drink all your cum. She forced the priest to fuck your wife. He forced Abigail to love it.”

“You fucking cunt!” growled Damien.

His strokes were so hard. The slap of his balls on Jezebel’s chin so loud. Aurora shuddered. She moaned. Her fingernails scraped along Damien’s chest as her orgasm exploded through her. She bucked and gasped, juices squirting out of her body.

Damien growled, feeding on her lusts. “Aurora!”

“Cum in her, Sir!” the angel screamed as the rapture flowed through her mind. Her great enemy was defeated. Jezebel undone. “Dump your cum down her throat.”

Her wings threw wide as a second wave of bliss washed through her body. Her hands gripped Damien as he thrust his cock deep down Jezebel’s throat. The vampire snarled as Aurora felt his balls unload. His body twitched with each pulse of his cum.

“That’s it. Dump your cum in the whore!”

Jezebel moaned. Her wings flapped. Aurora drank in her lust, too, as her orgasm burst through her.

The world whirled around them as Jezebel swallowed Damien’s cum. It spun and suddenly light engulfed them, harsh and artificial. Women groaned around him. Blood scented the air. Violence of the real world.

The priest lay collapsed on the floor. Abigail set up from a desk, her legs spread wide, her pussy covered in cum. Aurora licked her lips, wanting to feed on all that delicious jizz that leaked out of her while Damien continued to growl and dump his cum down Jezebel’s throat.

“May I punish her, Sir?” Aurora whispered.

“Yes,” Damien snarled and ripped his cock from Jezebel’s mouth.

Aurora summoned her corrupted sword. It dripped with blood. Jezebel panted, cum staining her lips, her eyes dazed from her orgasm. Aurora trembled. Her nipples ached as she placed the edge of her sword on Jezebel’s neck.

The demon looked up. “I guess you finally won.”

Aurora smiled and raised her blade. “I did.”

She swung. The demon’s head parted from her body. It tumbled across the floor. It came to a rest, eyes wide. Aurora savored it. An orgasmic shudder rippled through her body as the demon’s head and body melted into shadows and poured down. The shadows didn’t sink through the building, but through reality, taking the demon back to perdition.

Aurora planted her sword’s point into the floor and leaned on it, surveying the battlefield. Joy rushed to the priest, grabbing him and dragging him away. Lynette, Samantha, and Mary lay groaning on the ground while Rosa lay dead.

Abigail gained her feet. “Damien?”


Damien stared at his wife. She trembled before him. Blood stained her hands. Rosa’s blood. She killed my vampiress.

“Damien?” she repeated as he stepped towards her.

Father Augustine’s cum stained her thighs. The blonde carried the priest away. He stumbled, his body injured. A lingering touch of friendship, a decade of mentoring, held Damien from following. It wasn’t the priest but Jezebel who caused so much pain to Damien. Father Augustine was possessed, the demon’s tool.

And the demon was dead.

“Damien, I…” Abigail swallowed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it … and…” She glanced at her fingers. “Rosa tried to kill me. And…”

Damien seized her red hair and yanked hard. She gasped in pain as he pulled her across the room towards the large windows that ran from floor to ceiling. Most were shattered. The Chicago skyline glowed with artificial lights, the moon hanging above, Lake Michigan a wine-dark sea in the distance.

“Damien, please, it wasn’t me,” she gasped as he shoved her against an intact window.

“I know,” he whispered into her ear as he drove his cock into her pussy.

“Damien!” she gasped, her voice throaty. “Mmm, yes, Damien.”

Her body undulated, her breasts streaking across the glass as her hips bucked back into his thrusts. Her pussy was a hot, molten furnace, swimming with the priest’s seed. He had to cleanse her of the priest’s touch, fuck her over and over, cum in her.

“You’re mine,” Damien growled into her ear.

“Yes,” she answered, her pussy hot on his dick, gripping him. “And you’re mine!”

“Yes.” Damien kissed at her neck, tasting her flesh, her blood pumping beneath her skin.


He bit. Her blood flowed salty-sweet into his mouth. He shuddered, his dick aching in her depths. He pounded her hard. The tinted glass flexed with each thrust. Abigail’s hips undulated, her pussy clenching and unclenching, loving his cock.

“It wasn’t you,” growled Damien. “Neither times. It was their control. They made you be their whores!”


Their flesh slapped together. Her blood and tart pussy filled the air. A wonderful scent. He feasted on it. His teeth bit over and over, loving the hot spurts of her life flooding his mouth. She shuddered each time, her pussy clenching.

Below, sirens howled. More Chicago PD rushing to the scene. “Samantha,” gasped Abigail. “Go stop the cops.”

“Yes, Dam,” groaned the Vampiress.

“Mary and Aurora, help her,” ordered Damien.

“Gladly, Sire,” purred Mary.

“Yes, Sir.”

Damien didn’t care about the approaching cops. He had his wife. She bucked and shuddered. Her orgasm exploded through her. The vampiress’ pussy spasmed about Damien’s cock. A hot, sucking pleasure. He grunted, loving the feel.

I made her cum.

Her juices washed out around his cock, forcing out the priest’s cum. She twisted against the glass, looking over her shoulders at him. She moaned, her green eyes flashing. His cock popped out of her cunt as she spun in his embrace, her breasts heaving before him.

“Mmm, now you can really fuck me,” she grinned, throwing her legs about his waist and slamming her cunt down his cock.

“Yes!” he growled as he seized her ass, holding her tight as he pounded her against the window.

The glass flexed. Groaned. Shattered. Shards reigned down upon them, cutting them. Their blood flowed about their bodies. Hot and salty. The rushing air swirled about them as their hands rubbed each other, massaging blood into muscles.

“Oh, yes,” Abigail moaned, licking at his wounds, drinking his blood, her pussy spasming about his cock.

“Cum in me! Oh, yes! Oh, fuck, Damien! Do it! Spill in me! I need it.”

Damien let out a throaty growl and slammed her pussy down his cock. She bucked and shuddered. Her head rolled back in her head. She gasped and shuddered. Hot, silky flesh massaged Damien’s cock, eager for his cum.


His balls unloaded. He flooded her with his jizz, washing away the last of the priest’s cum. She was his. He trembled before the city of Chicago, exulting in his wife’s cunt and their shared pleasure. Their lips met, stained with both their blood.

Damien held onto his wife, treasuring this moment.

And then something stirred behind them.

“Lynette,” Abigail groaned.

Damien turned to see his wife’s best friend from high school. She looked the same, eighteen, black-haired, beautiful. Vincent’s first victim. I should have known she would have ended up with Faust.

Lynette stretched, her battered body healing. “That blonde bitch can punch.”

“She was a demon’s familiar,” Damien answered. “That was why she was so strong. She had Jezebel’s power in her.”

Lynette shook her head. “Faust is dead?”

Damien smiled. “Yes.”

“It all went to shit,” she laughed, slumping down in the plush leather chair. “I spent over a decade maneuvering Faust to kill the pair of you and it utterly destroys him. Everything he worked on, all the influence in Chicago he curried, all the souls he supplied to Jezebel. He was unstoppable, and then he grew to like my pussy.”

Damien set Abigail down. His wife stretched then walked to Lynette. “Now, what do we do with you?”


Father Hyrum Augustine woke up from a dark dream, the first golden rays of sunlight peaking through a gap in the curtain and landing right on his eyes. A soft voice talked in the background, droning on, like the news.

The priest stared at the sun. His soul felt … unburdened. The feminine presence, the demon he had glimpsed in the final moments of consciousness sucking Damien’s cock was gone from his soul. He was clean.

Tears beaded his eyes. “Lord, Lord, what did I do?”

“You’re awake,” a woman said. “Father, you’re awake.”

He turned his head in time to see Joy, wearing a long t-shirt as a nightgown, fling herself at him. She buried her face into his chest, her body shaking as her tears wept from her eyes. He stared down at her, the poison gone from his thoughts and no feminine voice whispered tainted guidance.

“Joy,” he croaked.

“You’re awake. I was so worried, Father.” She looked up at him, blue eyes shining with tears and more. Then she leaned up, her ruby lips wet, reaching for his.

He caught her shoulders, pushing her back. “No.”

She blinked. “Father? It’s been three days. Don’t you need to satiate yourself with my sinful body?” She let out a purring moan. “I didn’t masturbate. I wanted to, but I controlled my sin. For you, Father.”

He shook his head, more tears coming. “Oh, Lord, what did I do to you?” All the degrading words he had said, spilling from the black part of his soul, rose in his memory. His lusts had festered in him, a rot the demon had used to consume and possess him.

Donna and Samantha stolen from their families, transformed into vampires. All because I could not control myself.

“You’re not sinful,” he groaned. He had believed those words gripped by his lusts and the demon. They were a shield, a dodge for his own sin. “You’re just you, Joy.”

“Father?” she asked. “But … but … I’m so horny. So wanton. I love sex.”

“That’s just being human.” He closed his eyes and stroked her head with a strong hand. He felt strong. He opened his eyes and stared at his chest, muscular and youthful. His body’s changes had remained when Jezebel fled him.

Lord, you have given me a second chance.


“He let us escape,” Joy said. “The news is talking about it nonstop. Here.” She grabbed the remote from the nightstand.

We’re in a motel room.

Joy turned up the volume of the TV. Shots of Faust Tower surrounded by rescue workers, lines of body bags stretched out on the sidewalk besides burning wrecks of cars.

“Chicago still reels three days after two terrorist attacks devastated the city’s leadership and police force. In the early dawn, many prominent City, County, State, and Federal leaders, including the Mayor of Chicago, both Senators for the state of Illinois, and five Representatives were killed in a mansion on the Gold Coast. And then another hundred members of Chicago’s Finest fell defending Faust Tower against their second attack.”

“Sweet Mother of God,” the priest gasped. “Damien and his women did all…” He closed his eyes. “I ordered those cops to be there. I…”

“It was the demon,” Joy whispered. “I felt her leave me when she died. The stain that gave me power and…”

The priest wept, and Joy held him to her breast. She stroked his hair and soothed him. He clung to her for a long time, pouring out his sins and promising to do better. He had his second chance. He wouldn’t fail.

“We still have the weapons,” Joy whispered. “We can still fight evil. Just like you planned.”

The priest looked up at her through tear-stained eyes. The motel room’s light haloed about her golden hair. “What?”

“If the demon used us for evil, we can get back at her by doing good.” She cupped his whiskered cheeks. “Me and you, Father.”

My second chance.

“We can, child.”

And then her lips kissed his, soft and sweet. He clung to her. Not his whore, but his woman. He was a priest no longer. He had failed to uphold his vows. He had disgraced his church. But he could find a new way to serve mankind.

He would be their protector.

Britney shuddered as her mother’s fangs bit into her areola. Milk and blood flowed into the vampiress’s mouth. Britney lay on their bed staring up at the cement ceiling blocking out the day’s sun, protecting her family.

“Mommy,” gasped Britney, her hips undulating as her mother fed. After three months, her mother and the other vampires had not tired of feasting on her milk and blood. Britney, along with Vicky, were their thralls.

It was her purpose to be fed on.

The pleasure flowed through her as she savored her mother’s incestuous suckling. Her toes curled every time her mother suckled. Britney loved the way her milk flowed out of her nipple and her blood pumped from her wounds.

And her mother’s venom flowed through her veins.

Stars danced above Britney’s head as she savored her mother’s feasting. Her body twitched and her toes curled. She stroked her mother’s golden hair, the same shade as her own. Britney let out a throaty moan.

“Oh, yes, Mommy. Mmm, you need to feed. You need all the blood so you can be strong and powerful.”

Her mother’s blue eyes flashed up at her. Britney shuddered as she sucked harder. Her pussy dripped with excitement. She humped and writhed, pressing her wet sex into her mother’s flat stomach. Her clit ached, the pleasure bursting in her.

Britney’s heart thundered beneath her breast. She squirmed, grinding harder, smearing her clit against her mother’s flesh. The ache was wonderful. The young woman enjoyed the delight. She licked her lips and moaned again.

“So good, Mommy. I love it when you feed.”

“As much as when Sire does it?” her mother asked, lifting her milk-and-blood-stained lips.

“No, he’s better,” Britney shuddered. “But then he owns me.”

Her mother laughed then slid up Britney’s body. Their large breasts pillowed together as Britney and her mother kissed. The young woman savored her salty blood and creamy milk mixed on her mother’s lips.

This is so wonderful.

Britney didn’t miss her father or infant brother. She had a new family forged by Damien and Abigail’s dark kiss. Britney would never forget it. The hot knife of pain as his fangs sank into her neck followed by ecstasy as her life flowed into his mouth.

She gripped her mother’s ass, their pussies grinding together, their clits rubbing. Her mother broke the kiss and smiled. “Mmm, that’s nice. Do you want to scissor?”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Mommy.”

Her vampiress mother moved with grace Britney envied. Her mother turned around and spread her legs. She twisted as their legs scissored together and then their cunts met in an incestuous kiss. Her mother’s pussy was almost as hot as hers, the vampiress absorbing Britney’s body heat as they writhed together on their bed.

Both women bucked and gasped, their tits heaving as they tribbed their cunts together. Their flowing juices lubed the way. Milk flicked from Britney’s nipples. She brought one to her mouth, suckling her own milk as the pleasure burst in her pussy.

“That’s it, baby girl,” moaned her mother. “Oh, yes, grind that cunt into my flesh. So hot. I love it!”

Britney moaned about her fat nipple. Her milk filled her mouth. She swirled it around, loving the rich flavor. Her toes curled and she ground harder. Her clit ached every time it brushed her mother’s, sparking like flint striking steal.

The sparks showered through her pussy, trying to catch her alight and burn through her body. Her breasts heaved and her nipple popped from her mouth. Her moans joined her mother’s, echoing through the room, bouncing off the heavy reinforced concrete of the bunker walls.

“Oh, yes, Mommy! Let’s cum on each other’s pussies.”

“Ooh, that would be so hot, baby girl! Oh, yes! I’m so close!”

“Me, too, Mommy!”

Britney grasped her mother’s right ankle, holding it as she humped her hips faster. Their pussies rubbed together, the friction growing hotter and hotter between them. Her mother sucked and nibbled on her toes, biting, drawing droplets of blood.

Giving Britney sweet delight.

“Mommy!” she screamed when her pussy burst inside her cunt.

Juices squirted out of her, splashing into her mother’s twat. Britney shuddered, her hips bucking out of control as the pleasure rippled through her. A moment later, her mother screamed and a gush of cream splashed against Britney’s snatch.

“Yes, yes, cum with me, Mommy!” gasped Britney as the waves of pleasure shuddered through her. She embraced them.

“Yes, baby girl,” her mother hissed, her blonde hair tossing and large tits heaving. “Yes, yes, so good.”

The iron door of their room opened. Aurora stuck her head in. The angel’s wings fluttered. Her nose twitched as she inhaled the musk. “Such sweet sin in here.”

“So sweet,” gasped Britney.

“Another monster hunts and prowls,” Aurora purred. “Another vampire feeds.”

“Oh, yes,” Britney gasped, her heart thudding. “A hunt!”


Damien eyes snapped open. The sounds of approaching feet echoed through the abandoned and decommissioned bunker. It lay in the middle of the Kansas farmland, purchased in secret years ago by Faust as a retreat. Damien set up in his bed, the black sheets falling away from his naked body.

Beside Damien, his two vampiress wives rose. Abigail on his left, her red hair spilling about her naked shoulders, Lynette on his right. She stretched her back, her eyes fixed on the door. Damien heard all his family’s feet out there.

The iron door creaked open. Aurora led them in, Samantha and Mary following, then Donna, and last the two thralls—Britney and Vickie. Aurora’s crimson wings spread wide as she knelt at the foot of his bed.


“Where is the vampire hunting?” Damien smiled. It had been three weeks since their last hunt.

“Kansas City, Missouri,” Aurora answered. “Three missing, turned or dead.”

“Mmm, foolish vampire to feed so close to us,” Abigail purred. “When is nightfall?”

“Three hours, Ma’am.”

Abigail pressed against Damien, her lips nuzzling at his neck. “Plenty of time for some fun.”

Lynette laughed on the other side, he hand grasping Damien’s cock. He groaned, savoring the feel of her fangs biting into his flesh. Aurora’s mouth engulfed his dick, sucking hard. He ached in her mouth, but not just from delight of his wives and women.

But for the hunt.



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