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Story Codes: Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Oral, Vampirism

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at my_pen_name3000@hotmail.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.

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Note: This takes place during Chapter 40, following Sam on her mission to Rennes-le-Château to study the Matmown in the Nun’s Motherhouse. Thanks to klimstit for inspiring me to write a vampire story.

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Monday, September 30th, 2013 – Lilith – The Abyss

I spied on him from the shadows as he spoke to that slut wife of his, projecting my spirit from my Vessel resting safely in Seattle. I could not let Mark and Mary get their hands on a Matmown. They had grown too powerful today when they defeated Brandon; I needed the edge I gained by spying on them if I am going to have any chance of surviving long enough to realize my plans.

Samnag Soun needed to be stopped before she could discover the secrets of the Matmown.

I flashed back to Seattle, back to my body, and opened my eyes in my office – a richly appointed space full of expensive carpets, dark-wood furniture engraved with intricate designs, expensive statuettes and figurines carved of delicate crystals and veined marbles, incense sticks and scented candles that filled the air with sweet delights – and let the beauty of my surroundings relax me. My office almost matched the majesty of ancient Babylon. A train horn blared; the warehouse rumbled, spoiling my enjoyment. I hated this place; it was old, dusty, dilapidated—hardly a fit place for a Goddess, but it was the only building we had in Seattle that could house my children and followers unnoticed.

I just had to keep reminding myself it is only temporary. Soon, the city of Seattle would fall to my power; soon Tir’s plague would be ready and the Earth would be brought to its knees. I only needed to keep Mark at bay for a few more months. By the new year, Seattle, and then the world, would be wiped clean of the vermin—men. Only women would survive, transforming the world into a paradise.

Chantelle and Lana sat in chairs opposite my desk, patiently waiting. They were my two High Priestesses; the first to join my cause. The lesbians – opposites in every way; one was blonde and busty, the other dark-haired and slim – were holding hands, I saw with amusement. Love. What a weak, useless emotion, enslaving those it inflicted. I controlled my daughters with love just like I controlled these two fools.

In unison the pair slipped to the floor and paid me their homage.

“What did you see, my Goddess?” blonde Lana asked, her Slavic face worshipfully staring up at me.

The blonde was the more outgoing, the bolder of the duo—the more outspoken. Modern humans did not know how to show proper respect, particularly these Americans. This country bred insolence and arrogance into their children, and these character defects had rubbed off on an immigrant like Lana.

“Send for my daughter, Luka,” I commanded, ignoring her lapse; allowances had to be made…for now. “I have someone for her to kill.”

“At once, my Goddess,” Lana replied, smoothly rising and turning to leave.

I leaned back in my chair. The plush leather was so comfortable as it cushioned my body in heavenly softness. There was something to be said for the comforts of this age, even if its inhabitants left something to be desired.

A smile crossed my lips; Luka would be perfect for this task. Hopefully, she wouldn’t fail me like Di and Emi had. Irritation flashed like lightning; who knows when I would mother another Dimme, let alone twins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka – Seattle, WA

“Luka, follow me,” Lana said peremptorily as I snuggled up to Mona, my birth mother.

Mom’s blood was salty on my lips as I nursed gently from the small punctures my teeth left on her breasts. Mom shook in ecstasy from my bite, her hands stroking my fiery-red hair as she fed me. Her blood was delicious, salty, life. I could feel that Mom was close to cumming, her moans soft, passionate, and I resented the intrusion.

“Why,” I demanded, regretfully pulling my lips from Mom’s delicious flesh. I could only feed off her once a week; more often would be too dangerous for her. As an Alukah I needed blood to survive, and Mom offered herself; such a loving, intimate gift.

“Our Goddess wants you,” Lana answered, furrowing her eyes.

I perked up. My True Mother needed me. Joy blossomed inside me; all the children of Lilith, myself included, had been so jealous of Di and Emi when they had been chosen for their special mission, and I was secretly delighted to hear that they had died. The more of my siblings that perished, the less competition there was for Mother’s love.

I followed the curvy blonde to Mother’s office. I could see the blood pumping beneath Lana’s skin. Warm, delicious blood, flowing through a beautiful spiderweb of arteries, capillaries, and veins. She positively glowed with life, pooling in her womb where her daughter grew. I wondered what Lana’s blood tasted like; I only ever got to taste my birth mother’s blood. Lana smelled different, spicier than Mom, and I bet her blood would have a zesty flavor.

I could take just a little nip; her neck was so inviting. I sighed. No, I couldn’t touch her. As much as I hated Lana – she thought she was so much better than me – she had mother’s favor. She was untouchable…for now.

I knelt when I entered my True Mother’s glorious presence, gazing up at her with awe and love. Mother was perfect, and her beauty always made me feel lacking; her flesh was flawless, and her blood pumped divinely through perfectly shaped blood vessels that painted a glorious picture of life and power beneath her skin. One day I hoped that she would let me taste her divine blood.

If I served her faithfully, I knew she would.

“You humble daughter is here to serve, Mother,” I said, and shuddered as she smiled at me.

Mother waved her hand and the image of a woman appeared. She was young, early twenties, with olive skin and a round face. Her eyes were dark, almond-shaped, revealing a Far East Asian origin. She had a serious look, almost a scholarly air about her. And it wasn’t just her appearance Mother conjured—I could smell her. The warm, salty flavor of her blood; the sour of her sweat; the spicy tang of her sex—all of it combined to give the woman a unique odor.

I looked questioningly at Mother.

“Samnag Soun,” Mother answered. “Vizier to him.” I knew from the heat in her voice just who ‘him’ referred to. The despicable Mark Glassner. “She is traveling to southern France, to a small town called Rennes-le-Château. Kill her.”

I licked my lips. “I am the instrument of your will, Mother.”

She bent down and kissed me on the lips; pleasure exploded in my pussy. I gasped and shuddered as the most intense, amazing orgasm burst through my body, leaving me nothing more than a twitching ball of sensation whipped by the winds of lust scouring my soul. When I regained my senses, I was lying on the floor and I picked myself up. Mother was reading over some papers; Lana and Chantelle – obviously caught up in Mother’s Lust – passionately writhed in an embrace on the carpets. Sensing I was dismissed, I withdrew quietly.

My birth mother Mona waited outside the office, and hugged me and wished me success and safety in my task. Together we walked up to the roof of the warehouse. “I love you, Luka,” she said, throwing her arms about my neck and kissing me on the lips.

“I love you too, Mom,” I told her as my red hair fanned out, forming into the wings that would carry me through the night sky.

Carrying me to my prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday October 1st, 2013 – Sam Soun – New York City

“Now boarding British Air Flight 482 for London’s Heathrow Airport.”

That announcement sounded important, the rational, thinking part of my mind told me, but I was too tired to care. I didn’t sleep at all over the weekend – how could I when my very life rested on Mark and Mary overcoming Brandon’s seemingly insurmountable forces – and despite trying to sleep on the flight from Seattle to New York’s LaGuardia Airport, I couldn’t. Mary’s mysterious command plagued me.

We need you to do something that is very important, Mary had said to me last night. Go to the Motherhouse in Rennes-le-Château. In the basement you will find a room. Study it carefully. I need you to reconstruct it perfectly.

I was so curious. What was this mysterious room? Could it be a Matmown? The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke of something called ‘Hidden Rooms’—places that spiritual beings could not see into. Angels, Demons, Spirits. None of them could so much as enter one of these rooms, but the Book didn’t explain how to make one.

It seemed that while I waited for our flight to Toulouse, France – with a layover in London – I had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable, plastic chairs in the airport’s terminal. Someone was shaking my shoulder. Candy, my half-asleep mind realized; my lovely and vivacious toy.

“What,” I muttered in irritation.

“Our flight is boarding,” Candy urged. “C’mon, Sam.”

I groaned, “Fine.” I let Candy drag me to my feet.

Candy maneuvered me as I shuffled through the boarding procedures. Since we were in First Class, we got to board with the first group. The First Class tickets were expensive, but I wasn’t paying for the tickets, and Mark and Mary sure could afford to. They gave me a credit card months ago to use for any expenses I needed. The First Class seats were a little wider, a little roomier, a little easier to sleep on—a definitely needed expense.

The moment I buckled in I was dead to the world. I don’t even remember taking off. I woke up with my face pressed against the bulkhead, drool sticky on my cheek, and a blanket – one of those light, airline ones that are too thin to really do much of anything – bunched up on my right side. Candy smiled at me, and reached out to stroke my left thigh. My skirt had ridden up while I slept, almost exposing my naked pussy, and Candy’s fingers dipped in and took advantage of that. I stirred, enjoying her touch, as I looked at her. A grin was plastered on her cute face, framed by hair that was half-dyed cotton-candy blue and bubblegum pink. She was my toy, given to me by Mark in exchange for being their vizier. She was smart, feisty, funny; my right-hand woman.

“Good morning,” Candy purred. “Or, I should say good afternoon. Or evening? I’m not sure anymore. I think we have another six hours to go.”

My bladder felt full and my stomach rumbled. The lavatory took care of one and I bought a meal from the stewardess to take care of the other. It was an okay chicken salad with an oily dressing. Not enough vinegar, I thought, but I was famished and wolfed it down.

Candy giggled and bent over and licked me. “You had something on your chin.”

“Do I still have anything?” I asked, a smile playing on my lips.

Candy bent over and kissed me on the lips, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. “Nope, all clean.”

I was starting to feel a familiar itch in my crotch and one look at Candy’s face told me she felt the same. I grabbed the blanket from the floor and placed it over both of our laps. The grin on Candy’s face broadened, and her hand slip down to find my thigh and slid up my leg to my wet pussy. I shuddered in delight when her skillful fingers played with my damp nethers.

I returned the favor, sliding my hand up Candy’s miniskirt and found her sopping pussy. I smeared my fingers through her juices and brought them up to my lips, sucking each finger one by one. “Umm, I love to eat some sweet Candy,” I laughed.

“Why don’t you try some more?”

I slid my hands back between her thighs, stroking her vulva as Candy probed my pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out achingly slow. I shuddered in pleasure on my toy’s digits, as I shoved three fingers up Candy’s twat; she raised up on her seat at the sudden intrusion, before relaxing and enjoying my finger-fuck.

Across the aisle, a sleeping man stirred and stretched suddenly. Candy and I kept fingering each other, trying to stay discreet. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Candy started grinding the heel of her hand on my clit. Well, two could play at that, so I pulled my fingers out of her cunt and began pinching her button. She tossed her head back in pleasure, her pink-and-blue hair swaying wildly about her head.

Candy squeezed her eyes shut, her face turning red as she struggled not to cry out as her orgasm rippled through her. I bit my lip, silencing a moan as she writhed and sighed. Her orgasm was so powerful her stomach muscles contracted and she bent over, a low groan escaping her lips and sweat breaking out across her forehead.

“Are you okay, miss?” the man across the aisle asked in a British accent. “You look a little knackered.”

“I’m fine,” Candy panted.

“No you’re not,” I told her. “C’mon, let’s get you into the lavatory before you throw up.”

Candy gave me a confused look, but she was my slave and obeyed me, standing up. The man had a puzzled expression on his face. “She gets this way all the time,” I told him. “We might be in there for a little while. I know just what to do to make her feel better.”

Candy caught on and nodded, “She gives me what I need.”

“Yep, she needs her protein injection,” I stated. “She’s too chicken to stick the needle in herself, so she likes me to thrust it in her. You see, it has to be plunged deeply into her flesh for the injection to work.”

Candy almost giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth and vigorously nodding her head. “She makes the needle plunging into me feel so nice!”

We reached the two first class lavatories and entered the left one, locking it behind us. It was a typical airplane lavatory: stainless steel toilet, sink, and mirror; cramped for one person, let alone two. We made it work.

Candy reached down and lifted my skirt, exposing my neatly trimmed, black bush, and started playing with my clit. “You know just what I need, Sam,” Candy purred.

I concentrated on my clit, and it began to lengthen, widening, transforming into eight inches of hard iron—my very own cock. I learned how to do this from the Book – the Magicks of the Witch of Endor – and Candy was the first woman I ever fucked with it. We met at the Clam Diver, a lesbian club in Tacoma, and I fucked her with it on a love seat at the edge of the dance floor. Candy had been so impressed by the magic, that she offered to be my slave if I would teach it to her.

She loved every minute of being my slave and apprentice.

Once my clit had grown to its full length I purred, “Time for your injection!”

Giggling, Candy stroked me to full hardness. Her hand felt wonderful on my girl-cock, then she sat on the edge of the sink, parting her legs so I had access to her dripping cunt. “I’m ready to be pricked!”

We embraced and kissed as her hands eagerly guided me into her. I moaned; it felt wonderful to be inside my Sweet Candy again. My hips pumped fast; we couldn’t spend too much time in here before a stewardess got nosy. We shared a sloppy kiss with lots of tongue, moaning into each other’s mouths, as I fucked her hard. Her cunt was tight silk on my cock; I felt that urgent need to cum building in my ovaries, spurring me to fuck Candy faster.

“I love your cunt,” I hissed in Candy’s ear. “You’re a dirty, cock-loving whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Candy panted. “A dirty, girl-cock loving whore! I love it when you fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt, and fuck my filthy ass! I love the taste of your cum. All thick and salty as it pumps in my mouth!”

I felt her fingers squeeze my ass, then reach lower, sliding between my legs. I thrust hard into her as her fingers invaded my cunt. Fuck, she was stroking the passion in my girl-parts and my boy-parts.

“You dirty whore!” I purred. “Finger me! I want to cum with both my pussy and my cock!”

Candy threw her head back, exposing her pale throat, and I couldn’t resist sucking hard at it. I loved leaving hickeys on her pale flesh. They were my marks of ownership—this slut was all mine! Just a few more thrusts and I would be flooding her cunt with my cum. I pounded on her harder and harder, then my ovaries were boiling over and my cock exploded. The pleasure was intense: the focused blast of a male orgasm and the wonderful waves of pleasure of a female orgasm all mixed together in a wonderful maelstrom of rapture.

“Yes, yes!” Candy groaned as she felt my cum jet into her cunt and my pussy juices flooded her hand. I pulled her face down and silenced her with a kiss, her cunt spasming on my cock as she came hard.

“Umm, that was delicious,” I purred, shrinking my clit. “Clean yourself up.”

Candy reached down and scooped up a big gob of my cum and sucked it into her lips. “That’s the best part!”

I chuckled as I slipped out. The British man asked how she was doing and I was about to tell him that she needed a few more minutes, when someone in the back of the plane began screaming. Wondering what could be going on, I made sure my gale bracelet was on my wrist as I started walking to the back of the plane. The bracelet, made of brass, could conjure a strong wind and throw an attacker away from me; one of many charmed objects I had come up with.

I debated grabbing one of my daggers. I had a pair of copper daggers in my carry-on bag stowed in the overhead compartment. They were useful against a supernatural opponent; carved with symbols that would allow the blades to harm spiritual flesh. I decided against grabbing the daggers; unless I saw an actual threat, it would only cause more problems for me to pull them out.

I was about to head into coach when a stewardess stopped me. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“A passenger thought she saw a woman out on the wing,” the stewardess explained.

“What, like that Twilight Zone episode?” One of my favorite episodes. “With the gremlin on the wing?”

The stewardess gave me a momentarily confused look, then, ignoring my comment, said, “It happens sometimes. When you mix sleeping pills, alcohol, and altitude it can cause all sorts of unanticipated reactions. If you could please take your seat, miss.”

I walked back to my seat and tried to peer out the window, straining to see the aircraft’s wing, but I was too far forward. “What are you doing, Sam?” Candy asked as she returned from the lavatory.

“Get my laptop,” I told her.

When we rushed out of the house on Saturday morning, one step ahead of Brandon’s forces, I had grabbed a bag I had prepared. I got the idea from some spy movie—a go bag. It contained anything I would need if I had to leave in a hurry: my copper daggers, a laptop which contained copies of my translations of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, my enchanted perfume, the bracelet I wore around my wrist, and a few other handy items. Candy grabbed my laptop out of the overhead bin and I booted it up. There was a section in the book that described Lilith’s monstrous children.

The Children of Lilith could manifest in a myriad of different ways, and there were a few that could fly. For instance: a Zauba’a could take the form of whirlwind, the Pazuzu and the Lamassu had bird wings, the Th’uban was something that resembled a dragon, and the Alukah could fly using her hair. I read each entry carefully—the one about the Alukah jumped out. An Alukah looked perfectly human and was a type of vampire. Its bite imparted a narcotic effect on the victim, making them docile as the monster fed. Its hair could be shaped into wings or in other, useful ways. The gaze of an Alukah was hypnotic, making its victims docile or causing people to ignore its presence. The drunk were supposedly immune to this power.

My blood chilled as I shut down my laptop.

I tried in vain to see the wing again. Was there an Alukah perched on the airplane’s wing? Or was it just a drunk woman hallucinating? I chewed my lip. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Fuck, but what if I wasn’t? I could only hope that the Zimmah bond would protect us from an Alukah’s gaze.

No. Hoping is what Mark would do. I bet there was a way I could neutralize the gaze, and started my research.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luka – London, England

Riding on the wing of an airplane was exhilarating.

After Mother sent me to kill Samnag Soun last night, I had flown south on wings made of my fiery-red hair. Young Crystal, one of Mother’s followers, called me Bayonetta when she saw me use my hair this way the first time. Bayonetta turned out to be a video game character, and Crystal got me hooked playing the game on her PS3. I reached Tacoma in a few minutes, swooping over the city, trying to isolate Sam’s scent through a city’s worth of humans.

When I found it, the trail led north back to Seattle. Hissing in frustration, I had to fly back the way I came. When I arrived at Boeing Field in southern Seattle, I had just missed her plane taking off, flying east. This was getting frustrating. I could fly fast, but I couldn’t fly quite as fast as a jet.

Doggedly I pursued, and the Country had passed as a blur beneath me as I followed the scent of the airplane through the skies. I had been lucky to arrive in New York City just in time, smelling Sam’s scent on a plane taxiing onto the runway. I landed on the wing, and used my hair to grip its leading edge while my gaze hypnotized any passenger that happened to looked out the window.

It had worked until that one lady got drunk and saw me.

Luckily, everyone just thought she was a hysteric woman. No-one else saw me for the rest of the flight and I enjoyed myself. The wind howled almost painfully, and exhilaratingly, past me, and we were up so high that if I had to breathe I would have been in trouble. The ocean was so blue as we passed over it. Once we flew above a thunderstorm; I watched in awe as lightning flashed and danced in the clouds below, a beautiful display of power that seemed for my eyes alone. When the sun set, the stars were so brilliant, twinkling down upon me. There were so many of them, more than I ever saw in Seattle.

By the time the plane began landing, I was feeling pretty weak. Feeding off my birth-mother once a week sustained me when I wasn’t exerting myself—when I didn’t fly halfway across the country and hitch a ride on an airplane. I could feel my thirst growing. I needed blood to survive, to fuel my powers. As the plane landed in a dreary city – London I think – I let go of the plane, swooping towards the airport’s terminal.

I could find someone to snack on in there.

I was overwhelmed when I snuck through a maintenance tunnel and entered the terminal proper. There were so many people; the smell of warm blood filled my nose. Everywhere I looked I could see veins and arteries, and all the beautiful blood pumping beneath their skin. Whom to drink from? Everywhere I looked was a feast.

I saw a flash of purple.

A girl wearing a gray hoodie and a gauzy, lilac skirt over black tights disappeared into a bathroom. Her hair, dyed purple, was shoulder length, framing a cute, round face. She was so enticing. I touched my sharp canines with my tongue and felt my nipples harden beneath my tight, red bodysuit; I took a page out of that video game and shaped the clothes from my hair. I followed the girl into the bathroom, smelling her warmth from the last stall.

I padded silently to the stall. The sharp, ammonia scent of urine filled my nostrils as I heard water splashing. The door was locked and the girl shouted “Occupied!” when I tried to open it. I leaped up and easily slid through the gap between the door and ceiling, then landed gracefully on my feet before her.

“Bloody hell!” the girl exclaimed in a melodic, British accent. “Why’d you go and do that?”

She sat on the toilet, her black tights and white panties bunched up around her ankles. I licked my lips and relaxed my hair. My clothing dissolved away, leaving me naked before the girl. All she could do was stare dumbfounded at me.

Finally, the girl collected her thoughts. “Clear off. I’m taking a piss, slag!”

I gazed at her; her eyes went wide and almost black as her pupils dilated. A shudder passed through her body and her lips curled with lust. She pulled off that gray hoodie, exposing a low cut, lilac blouse. I delighted to see the blood flooding her capillaries, giving a nice, red flush to her pale skin. She smelled delicious: warm blood, spicy cunt, acidic urine.

I had to taste her.

“Aren’t you tidy,” the girl purred, lost to the lust my gaze generated. “I could just dive right into that fanny and eat you all up!”

I turned, presenting my ass to the girl. I liked a good ass-licking and I was feeling horny. After she pleasured me, I could taste all the delights the girl’s body had to offer.

“Not your arse, I said your fanny!” she objected.

“My fanny is my ass,” I said in confusion.

“Bloody yanks! Your fish taco.” I only stared blankly at her over my shoulder. “Your cunt, stupid git.” I spun around and she knelt before me, her breath hot on my pussy. She took one, delicious lick of my pussy and I shuddered. “I love fish for supper,” she murmured before diving back in.

I leaned back against the door and let this girl devour my fanny; what a funny word for my pussy. Her tongue was agile, licking along my lips. Then she shoved her tongue deep into my hole, fucking my snatch like a small cock. My back arched and I writhed against the stall. I gripped the girl’s head and started humping my cunt into her lips.

“Um, yes, eat my cunt!” I moaned. “Delicious little slut!”

“Your fanny tastes bloody marvelous!” she purred.

“Don’t stop!” I hissed.

I groaned as she buried her wonderful tongue back into me. Her fingers started pinching my clit, sending wonderful pleasure radiating through my body. The girl moved her tongue up to my little pearl, rapidly flicking it as she slid a finger up inside me. Her finger hooked and curled, rubbing along the walls of my pussy, searching for just the right spot.

I exploded when she found it, my head banging back against the stall door, as an orgasm smashed through me. “Holy shit,” I muttered, panting heavily, gazing down at the girl who had a pleased look plastered on her face.

“Good one, huh,” she said proudly. “I’d fancy one myself.” Her blouse popped off and then her white bra, exposing a cute pair of breasts topped with dark nipples.

“Is everything all right in there?” someone asked from outside, banging on the stall door.

Irritation flashed through me and I opened it up to see a female janitor. “Close the bathroom,” I ordered as I gazed at her. “Let no-one in!”

“Yes,” she muttered in a daze. “The loo is closed.”

I pulled the girl out of the toilet as the janitor left the bathroom. I pushed my prey down and ripped her tights and panties off, leaving her naked save for her purple skirt bunched up around her waist. Her legs spread, and her fanny was shaved bare and glistened with lust. My fangs itched to sink into her pink flesh and taste her blood.

I fell on her, and she cooed in delight as I kissed her, biting her lips and enjoying the coppery blood. I kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse beating just beneath her skin. I itched to sink my fangs in and drink her heart’s blood, but that would attract too much attention. I kissed lower, down to her small breasts and sucked on her hard nipples, swirling my tongue around her nub.

“Suck my knockers!” the girl purred. “Give ’em a good suck!”

I could feel the blood flowing through her breasts and I sank my fangs into her perky flesh. I nursed at her tit, hungrily swallowing her coppery, delicious blood. It was so fresh, tasty, invigorating; the energy spread through my body, inflaming my lust. My prey writhed beneath me, moaning wordlessly; lost in the ultimate intimacy.

I was drinking her life, what could be more intimate?

“Shit that’s bloody amazing!” the girl moaned. “Ohh, what’re you doing to me!”

I left bloody kisses as I moved to her other breast. A second orgasm spasmed through her as I greedily drank her blood; my cheek rubbed against her hard nipple as I lapped the crimson oozing from her ivory flesh.

The scent of her pussy was intoxicating, beckoning to me. I slid down her body, nipping at her flat stomach, watching beads of dark blood blossoming across her pale flesh. I spread her thighs, her spicy scent filling my nose. Then I buried my face into her pussy, looking up at her body as her back arched in pleasure.

Was there anything more beautiful than crimson blood beading across white flesh?

“Um, suck on my fanny!” the girl moaned, kneading her bloody breasts. She was too lost to the lust my bite generated to feel the pain of all her tiny wounds. All she felt was the pleasure.

I nipped at her groin, watching a rivulet of blood run down and mix pink with her pussy juices. I dove in, lapping up the coppery, spicy flavor. I slid my tongue into her pussy, then up to brush her clit. This was so delicious.

“You bloody slag! Eat me! Devour me! I’m gonna cum! Oh shite, oh shite!”

Tasty juices and coppery blood flooded my mouth as she bucked against my face. My own pussy was on fire. I flipped around, straddling her face. Her tongue was rough as she lapped at my burning cunt, sending waves of pleasure through me as I bent down and nipped at her thigh, enjoying another flow of fresh blood. I was so intoxicated with her taste her tongue easily brought me to a powerful orgasm. I screamed into the meat of her silky thigh, her blood filling my lips; life and pleasure burst through me.

I formed new clothing, leaving my prey sprawled on the floor, her hand furiously rubbing her cunt as my bite’s lust still poured through her veins. Blood streaked her body, enhancing her natural beauty with vibrancy. She should live, I thought.

I felt more alive than ever as I slipped out of the bathroom. Never had my belly been so full of blood; a warmth that slowly grew and grew, spreading to every corner of my being. How great would I feel if I had drained every drop from the girl?

I shuddered just thinking about it.

I wiped the janitor’s memory, and stalked off, following the scent of Samnag Soun. I wouldn’t have to hold back with her. I would taste her blood, drinking in every last drop until her heart stopped beating—the blood stopped flowing. I would experience the rapture of draining a human dry.

For Mother.

To be continued…

Click here for Part 2.