The Vampire’s Kiss
Chapter Four: Slut on the Altar
© Copyright 2015
Story Codes: Male/Female, Female/Female, Vampire, Clergy, Blood, Lactation, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Magic Domination/submission, Spanking
For a list of all the Vampire’s Kiss Chapters and other stories click here
Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.
Click here for Chapter 3.
The metal door boomed shut behind Abigail D’Angelo. The room was pitch-black. Her naked feet flexed on the cold concrete. She didn’t mind the cold or the dark. She could see. Everything was painted in hues of blue in the absent of light.
This was her room now. Her Sire’s orders.
Abigail felt the oppression of the sun outside the room and the walls of Faust Tower in downtown Chicago. She curled down naked on the floor, her clothing having been stripped away by Faust, the vampire who Sired her, the moment she arrived before she was shoved into here. She curled up on her side, her arm acting as a pillow.
And closed her eyes.
Damien’s face filled her mind as she sank into sleep. I let him die. There was no way for him to get the keys.
That saddened her. It was her Sire’s will for Damien to die by sunlight, but the human part of Abigail loved her husband. If she was still human, guilt would have clouded her mind and kept sleep away.
She plunged into her dreams.
Abigail watched herself stalking through the cafeteria, moving on the balls of her feet, crossbow in hand. It was…surreal to the vampiress. She sat on one of the cafeteria tables. Her Sire, Faust, watched in the shadows behind the Dream-Abigail as the still-human hunter scanned the darkened room for the vampire.
An exhilaration stirred through Abigail as she watched Faust stalk her dream self. Abigail squeezed her thighs together. Metal chains clinked. They were wrapped around her naked body, made of black iron pitted with blood and rust.
Faust moved, shadow-walking as he crept up on Dream-Abigail. It was his vampire gift. Abigail hadn’t learned what hers was yet. Every vampire had one. Shadow-walking was a powerful ability. Faust would melt into the shadows and then step out of another one.
He grew closer to the oblivious Dream-Abigail. The real Abigail watched, remembering how tense she was as she stalked through the cafeteria. Then Faust appeared before Dream-Abigail. She fired her crossbow bolt, but he vanished back into the shadows and appeared behind her. The real Abigail’s heart beat faster as she watched her dream self fight.
“I am good,” Abigail purred. Faust constantly was forced to dive into the shadows by her dream self’s attacks. “Not better than Sire, but I was amazing.”
Abigail remembered the exhilarating terror of the fight mixed with the slow realization that this vampire wasn’t newly turned but experienced. Faust wasn’t a vampire for Abigail to tackle without Damien for back up.
Vials of holy water smashed on tables. Crossbow bolts twanged through the dark. Faust danced through the shadows, moving with the grace of a vampire. The real Abigail licked her lips, her nipples aching as the climax of the fight drew closer.
Faust ripped the crossbow from Dream-Abigail’s hand before seizing her throat. Abigail’s own throat tightened, remembering her Sire’s crushing grip choking off her air. The vampiress smiled as the dream version of herself ripped out a silver knife and stabbed it into her Sire’s thigh.
“I shouldn’t be happy about hurting Sire,” Abigail whispered. “Even if the knife hadn’t done anything permanent.”
“You should be proud,” a cold, sultry voice hissed.
A third Abigail appeared, naked and predatory. Her face had a shadowed cast, her lips bright-red with blood. More blood splattered her naked body, the coppery scent exciting the real Abigail. Hunger burned in Vampiress-Abigail’s eyes.
She was a true hunter, far beyond the human version that was slammed to the ground by Faust, pinned by his strong grip.
“No,” Dream-Abigail croaked as she struggled for life.
That’s when I knew I was dead. That I was too weak to stop Sire.
Vampiress-Abigail strolled around Faust and Dream-Abigail struggling on the ground. Clothing tore. Dream-Abigail was flipped onto her stomach, the cement cold on her tits. Her jeans were ripped off, baring a curvy ass prodded by Faust’s hard cock.
“This is where he made us weak,” Vampiress-Abigail hissed. “We were strong before.”
“We lost,” the real Abigail pointed out.
Faust thrust into Dream-Abigail’s asshole as his teeth buried into her neck. The real Abigail shuddered, her body remembering the moment of duel penetration—hot cock reaming her asshole, sharp teeth piercing her neck.
“Yes,” sighed Dream-Abigail as Faust’s vampire venom drugged her body. “Oh, yes.”
The real Abigail’s eyes fluttered. It had been ecstasy when her Sire fucked her ass and drank her blood. The pleasure had been so intense as she grew weaker and weaker. Her vision had fuzzed. The pleasure had only increased as he sucked out her blood.
Her asshole had gripped Faust’s cock. Burning, painful pleasure radiated from her bowels, mixing with the ecstasy of his bite. As her blood pumped out of her body, her orgasm had built and built until it exploded through her. Her asshole had writhed about Faust’s thrusting dick.
“So good,” moaned Dream-Abigail as her body shuddered its last convulses while Faust flooded her asshole with his cum, beginning the process of turning her into a vampiress.
“Whore,” Faust growled then spat on Dream-Abigail’s face.
“He made us his,” Abigail moaned, her hand touching her cheek. Her Sire rose from Dream-Abigail’s corpse, his cum leaking out of her asshole. “He gifted us with immortality.”
“He made us his slave,” spat Vampiress-Abigail as she scrubbed at her cheek. Then she seized the chains wrapped tight about the real Abigail’s naked body. “Pathetic. You submitted.”
“He’s my Sire.”
“He’s our enemy.” Vampiress-Abigail straddled the real Abigail’s waist, their naked breasts pressing together. The blood splattering Vampiress-Abigail’s body smeared on the real Abigail. “You need to break free.”
“Why would I want to?”
“Revenge.” Vampiress-Abigail savored the word. “For our murder. For our enslavement. For our love.”
Vampiress-Abigail kissed the real Abigail. She moaned into the kiss, savoring the coppery blood on Vampiress-Abigail’s lips.
For a single moment, Abigail tried to break out of her iron chains. But they were too strong, crushing her, driving her back into submission. Vampiress-Abigail hissed in frustration and slid off the real Abigail.
“Stop being weak, bitch. Be strong.”
Abigail looked down at her chains. “No one’s strong enough to break these chains.”
Vampiress-Abigail sneered. “You were strong before. Remember the strength that drove you into your High School at eighteen to face your first vampire.”
Jezebel the demon floated through the Ether, the reality that separated Life from Beyond. From here, demons and angels could affect the lives of mortals. She hovered around Father Augustine, the chaplain to a pair of vampire hunters.
Father Augustine was important. He would protect a valuable client. The demon merely had to finish corrupting him.
He was a priest, a shaman. He had sworn the sacred oaths, giving him power over monsters and the undead. His prayers helped to armor Damien and Abigail D’Angelo, the Knights Venator that hunted vampires with Father Augustine. His power was so attractive to Jezebel, and if she could corrupt him in the sanctum of his church, his soul would crack.
And she would fill it.
The priest pulled his parish van into Our Lady of Heaven, the Catholic church for the small town of Pingree Grove outside of Chicago. He had driven from Santa Fe with the weapons and equipment stored in the back.
He wasn’t alone. The weapon of Jezebel’s corruption—a runaway girl, barely eighteen, named Joy—was with him. She was the priest’s slut. He had dominated her and claimed her fully as his thanks to a few interventions from Jezebel.
“So this is it?” Joy asked. “Where you will teach me to fight evil?”
“Yes,” the priest grinned as he stared at her lush thighs revealed by her small shorts. “And you will repay me.”
“I will, Father,” she nodded, her nipples hard.
Jezebel smiled as the final instrument of her plan walked up, a tartan skirt swirling about her naked thighs—Mary Daniels. A young woman so corrupted by sin, Jezebel didn’t even have to nudge her on this path.
“Hi, Father,” a voice purred as Father Hyrum Augustine climbed out of the van, tired after the long drive. “I’m glad you’re here. I was so naughty last night. I need to confess all. My. Sins.” Her last three words were punctuated by her breathy passion.
A shudder ran through the priest—Mary Daniels, the source of all his temptations. The first time he fucked Joy, it was the bleached-blonde creature strutting before him he had imagined. Mary was a coquettish eighteen-year-old, far too aware how her tight, youthful body made men ache. Her breasts were small points in her tight boob tube and her short, pink-and-black tartan skirt swirled about her bare thighs.
They were tan and perfect.
The little whore tempts me with sin. Father Augustine’s cock swelled to a full mast beneath his black cassock.
“I just returned from a long trip,” Father Augustine said, trying to fight his sin. Women always tempt men with their filthy bodies. She is just as much a whore as Joy.
“But…what if I were to die without confessing all my dirty, wicked sins.” Mary’s nipples were hard against her boob tube.
The little strumpet tempts me. Her wickedness knows no bounds. I should bend her over the altar and fuck her.
“Father?” Joy said, walking around the van holding his duffel bag and her backpack. “Where would you like this?”
“She’s a…volunteer,” Father Augustine quickly said. “She’ll be helping out around the church in exchange for a roof and food. She is…most unfortunate.”
“How wonderfully generous of you, Father,” Mary purred, her blue eyes twinkling. “Why don’t you unlock the church, and I’ll wait in the confession box for you.”
Wicked harlot. She wants to make me hard again and leave the church without satiating what she aroused. The priest glanced at Joy. An idea crossed his mind.
“Very well, child,” Father Augustine said, pulling out his keys from a pocket. He walked to the church’s side door and unlocked it. “Wait inside. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, Father,” grinned Mary.
She spun, her skirt flaring up, flashing the bottoms of her asscheeks and a hint of pink, frilly panties before she marched in. Father Augustine’s cock ached harder. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he watched her hips sway.
“Wow,” Joy whispered. “What a whore.”
“She’s just like you,” Father Augustine growled. He turned and pinched Joy’s hard nipple through her blouse. “You’ll be quiet when you follow me into the confessional booth. You will kneel and you will suck my cock while I listen to her filthy sins.”
“Yes, Father,” gasped Joy, her eyes wide, her lips oh, so moist.
“Good, my cottage is back here. You will be sleeping in there from now on.”
Joy nodded and he let go of her nipple. Her thighs squeezed tight together. The little whore was wet, eager to give into her sins and tempt him into fornication. The memory of her hot, silky, wet flesh wrapped about his cock shuddered through the priest.
Father Augustine led the whore to his cottage while thoughts of Mary danced in his head. She was bent over the altar, her skirt sliding up and exposing her naked pussy. For once, the little whore would pay for leading the Father into sin.
For a moment, Father Augustine thought he heard a wicked laugh drift through his ears.
After deposing his duffel bag and Joy’s backpack in his small, austere bedroom—a small bed, white comforter, nightstand, crucifix on the wall, and a single photo of his dead sister—the priest strode back to his church. His dick ached. He fought the urge to squeeze himself.
“To be a hunter of evil,” Father Augustine said, “you must be aware of your surroundings and know how to move undetected.”
“Yes, Father,” Joy said. “I will do my best to follow after you in silence and relieve the sinful desires that whore stirred in you.”
Father Augustine smiled. “Exactly. For what is woman’s place?”
“On her knees, Father,” Joy answered.
“Sweet child,” he groaned.
The side door led into the worship hall of Our Lady of Heaven. It was ornate, covered in stained glass windows and dark-stained pews. A statue of the Virgin Mary cradling the infant Savior dominated the wall behind the altar.
He gazed at her. The only woman who wasn’t a whore in the history of mankind.
Father Augustine crossed himself—Joy clumsy copied. Then, his heart thudding, he marched to the back where the confessionals were. One had the curtain drawn, the sandal-clad feet of Mary pocking out the bottom. Her toes were painted bright pink, attracting his attention in the gloom.
Joy padded quietly behind Father Augustine while his steps boomed through the empty hall and echoed back and forth. Mary’s toes curled and then shifted as he approached. The priest pictured her in there squirming, her panties wet with her sinful juices as she knelt on the bench and feigned penitence.
No woman is ever penitent for their sexual sins.
Father Augustine opened the door to the confessional and sank down on the hard, wooden bench. Joy knelt before him, squeezing in as he shut the door. His legs were spread wide, his knees touching both sides of the confessional as Joy lifted up his cassock, her hands soft as they reached his underwear.
He opened the privacy screen.
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” purred Mary, pride filling her voice. “It has been four days since my last confession.”
“Yes, Child,” Father Augustine said, fighting off his pleasure as Joy sucked his cock into her mouth.
Warm, wet, hot paradise surrounded him. Joy sucked and swirled her tongue, her hand caressing his balls. The priest stared at Mary through the grill, her hands out of sight, her cheeks red. She shifted on the bench, letting out a sigh.
“I was so wicked last night, Father,” Mary gushed. “I tried to be pure. I tried not to sin with boys. I tried so hard. But I couldn’t fight it.”
Of course you couldn’t, slut. “Go on.”
Joy sucked harder. The priest’s eyes squeezed shut at the bliss radiating from his cock.
“It was all Brad’s fault, really,” Mary panted, her voice growing thicker. “He asked me out to Risqué, the new club that opened in Chicago. I knew I would be wicked, but I couldn’t fight myself.”
“You have to try, Child,” Father Augustine groaned. You’re just a whore. A slut. You couldn’t fight your pussy. His hand squeezed Joy’s blonde hair, forcing her to take more of his cock into her mouth.
“I do,” lied Mary. “At the club, the music was pulsing and Brad gave me ecstasy. Everything was wonderful after that. All the colors were beautiful and I just wanted to dance and love him. I was so wild and free.”
“Drugs, too, Mary?” His dick throbbed in Joy’s mouth.
“I know. I’m so bad. But that’s not the worse. Brad took me to the back, hiked up my skirt, and slammed his dick into me.” A breathy shudder escaped her lips. “He was so thick inside of me. The ecstasy made it wild. I writhed against him, our hips pumping to the base of the dance music. All the colors shone around us.
“It was heavenly.”
Joy sucked harder. She bobbed her head, no longer being quiet as Mary described in detail her orgasm, the way she shuddered against Brad, and how his cum shot into her pussy. Father Augustine grit his teeth, fighting his cum as Mary kept talking.
“After he spilled his seed in me, Father,” moaned Mary, her voice breathless with arousal, her shoulders moving, her hands busy doing something.
The slut’s masturbating in confession. What a whore. She will have to be punished for this affront to the Lord’s house.
“Another girl came up. I didn’t know who she was, but she fell to her knees and…licked me clean.”
“You engaged in lesbian sex?” gasped the Priest, his dick erupting into Joy’s mouth. He groaned through clenched teeth as the pleasure rushed through his body. His head banged back against the wall while Joy swallowed every drop.
“I did, Father,” gasped Mary, her body swaying. “I was so wicked. I came so hard on her lips. And when she finished, I kissed her, sharing the sexual fluids. We danced and ground on each other, and then I went down on her while all the guys watched.
“She tasted so spicy and delicious. I loved her, Father. I was so bad.” Her voice rose an octave. “I loved her so much. I shoved my tongue into her pussy. I licked her out and, oh, God, I made her cum so hard.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vein,” panted Father Augustine as he watched Mary orgasm on her fingers.
“I was so wicked. I made her cum and I loved it, Father. I’m such a sinner.” Her eyes fluttered and she tossed back her head. “Such a wicked sinner.” Her breathing slowed. She let out a sigh and then lifted her right hand up, her fingers shiny in the dim light, and licked them clean. “Such a wicked sinner. What shall my penance be?”
Despite cumming, Father Augustine was still hard. He was a man approaching fifty, but in the last few days he had finally given into his sexual desires. Thirty years of abstinence gave him the stamina of a younger man.
Especially when a nubile eighteen year old just masturbated in the confessional while talking about her lesbian sin.
“This will require a serious penance, child,” Father Augustine panted. “More than any ‘our Fathers’ or ‘hail Marys’ can handle.” The priest stood up, opened the door, and slipped past Joy. He yanked open the curtain to Mary’s box. “Especially when you masturbated like a slut in my confessional.”
“Father,” gasped Mary as the priest yanked her out by her hair.
“It is time you learn how a whore relieves the sinful desires she arouses in a man with her deliberate, teasing ways.”
Joy peaked her head out and smiled as Father Augustine dragged Mary towards the altar. The priest smiled back at Joy, delight in the way she rubbed at the crotch of her shorts, trying to relieve her sinful ache.
Mary didn’t fight as Father Augustine pushed her into the altar. She bent over it, her bleached-blonde hair spilling across the pristine, white cloth trimmed in gold. Her delicious rear shook, her skirt hiking up to reveal the bottom curves of her ass. A tramp stamp of a winged heart decorated her lower back.
“Such a sinful, wanton child,” growled Father Augustine. “You came into a house of God dressed like a slut.”
“I am so sinful,” Mary moaned as she wiggled her hip. “Give me penance, Father. I need it. I need your strong hand to keep me from sin.”
Father Augustine flipped up her skirt. She wore a pair of pink panties, the legbands and waistband frilled with lace. The skimpy cloth was cut high in the back, revealing the bottom halves of her smooth, bubbly ass. The crotch pressed tight to her pussy, stained dark with her excitement and molding to her flushed pussy.
“These are the panties you wear in a house of God?” he roared, ripping the skimpy things down her thighs, exposing her flush, shaved vulva. Her slit was virginal tight, betraying her whorish nature.
“I am so wicked,” she moaned.
His hand cracked down on her ass. The slap echoed through the near empty church, the excellent acoustics echoing it back over and over. Mary moaned as her ass reddened. She wiggled again, her excitement building.
“I’m so sorry for being sinful, Father,” she lied. Father Augustine knew she lied.
They are all sluts. Joy, Mary, Britney, and even Abigail. I wouldn’t be surprised if she whored herself out while visiting her family, leaving Damien and myself to hunt alone. I doubt her mother was even sick.
Father Augustine smacked his hand down hard on Mary’s ass, savoring the way her cheeks jiggled as he imagined Abigail bent over the altar. Her ass always looked amazing in the tight jeans and fatigues she wore on the hunt. Her red hair made her vivacious.
They are all sluts.
The feminine laughter echoed through his ears. He glance at Joy. She sat on a pew, her eyes wide with rapture as she watched. She hadn’t laughed. Father Augustine shook his head and cracked his hand down on Mary’s ass again.
“You’re just a whore.”
“I am,” Mary moaned. “Spank the sin out of me, Father.”
“There are not enough spankings in the world to make you pure, slut,” he growled as his hand fell again.
“No,” she groaned and shuddered, her hips shaking.
His hand fell again and again, her moans and the smacks echoing through the church. Father Augustine’s cock throbbed beneath his cassock, aching more with every fall of his hand. Mary’s ass burned bright red.
Red is a whore’s color.
“Father!” Mary groaned.
“It is not enough,” growled Father Augustine as he hiked up his cassock. His dick pressed against Mary’s naked thigh. “You have pulled me into sin. You filthy whore.”
“Yes!” screamed Mary as he thrust his cock into her hot pussy. Her sheath gripped him as he buried deep into her pussy.
He was violating the altar by fucking her. She drove me to this heinous sin with her whorish ways.
His balls slapped into her flesh as the priest pounded her, his grunts mixing with her moans as they chorused through the church. A dark, depraved hymnal of worship to sin. Father Augustine savored the obscene, wet noise of his cock thrusting in and out of her wet depths.
“That’s it, whore,” he growled. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I did,” moaned Mary. “I’ve been burning for weeks to be fucked by you, Father. You are so sexy. Oh, I’ve been so wicked just so I had the juiciest sins to confess to you.”
“I knew you were a temptress given flesh,” he snarled.
Her pussy was tight and hot. Father Augustine shuddered and groaned as he took her harder and harder. Her pussy was so juicy, so delicious. She drove him wild as she bucked and rocked against him. He grit his teeth as his balls tensed.
“I’m going to cum in you, whore,” he growled. “It would serve you right to be bred, but you are such a slut I imagine you are on birth control.”
“I am, Father,” she moaned. “Spill your seed into my cunt. Please. I want to feel it in me all day long.”
Her whorish words shuddered through the priest. He closed his eyes as he slammed into Mary, imagining it was Abigail’s married cunt wrapped about his cock for that one instant. His balls boiled. His cum erupted.
He filled her cunt with jizz.
Jezebel shuddered as she came on her fingers. Dark cracks fissured the father’s soul as he soiled the blessed altar of his church. His seed erupted into the slut’s cunt and dribbled out onto the altar, their sexual fluids staining the pristine cloth.
The demon entered the cracks, possessing Father Augustine. She drank in the last dregs of his climax as she worked her changes in him. The priest ripped his cock out of Mary as her phone chirped. The slut smiled as she pulled up her panties.
“Mmm, that was great, Father Augustine,” purred Mary as she wiggled her hips. “I have to run. Britney’s heading over to pick me up, but I’ll be back to morrow to confess the sins I committed today.”
“Yes,” Father Augustine groaned as he shuddered. He gripped the altar as the last vestiges of good inside of him warred with Jezebel.
Jezebel batted the good aside. He had brought this upon himself and he no longer had the strength to resist her. His shamanistic powers were twisted towards hell as he sat on the altar and shuddered, his eyes fixed on Mary’s ass, still lusting for the girl.
I’ve fucked Mary. But there’s others. Young, busty Britney, Abigail, Mrs. Anders, Mrs. Lawson…
His lusts for the women of his parish aided Jezebel and she finished twisting him from the holy to the profane. No longer a holy shaman but a dark warlock.
“Later slut,” Mary giggled to Joy as she strolled by. “You should suck his cock clean. My pussy taste amazing.”
Jezebel laughed as Joy stood up and came closer. She was primed and ready to be seized by the priest’s power and to be invested as the priest’s weapon. Jezebel seized control of Father Augustine’s body and breathed life to his cock.
The church’s door boomed shut behind Mary.
“Mount my dick, slut,” Father Augustine found himself growling to Joy as he sat on the altar. He had profaned it with his sin. That excited him. He stroked his hardening cock. “It is time to train you to fight evil.”
“Yes, Father,” moaned Joy as she wiggled her shorts and panties down her hips.
The feminine laughter echoed loudly through his mind as Father Augustine seized Joy and pulled him onto his cock. The moment she sank down on his girth, his dick erupted into her. Joy shuddered, her eyes growing wide as more than cum boiled out of the priests balls.
She is yours, the feminine voice whispered. And so can Abigail, Mary, and the others.
“How?” croaked Father Augustine as Joy continued sliding up and down on his cock, lost to the throes of her orgasm.
Britney Lawson’s phone chirped. Mary had answered. Britney read the text: “Pick me up at our lady.”
Britney grinned. Her Master needed to feed when he woke up. It was her duty as his Thrall to provide for his needs. The eighteen-year-old former virgin shuddered, imagining her whorish, best friend lying upon the bed as Damien drank her blood.
Britney almost orgasmed.
Britney walked out of her bedroom, a suitcase packed with her clothing, the keys to the car her parents gave her in her hand. Both her parents had left for work. They had no idea their innocent daughter had been claimed by a vampire.
The busty girl’s imagination was filled with Damien taking her virginity as he drank her blood. Her nipples ached as her breasts were full of milk. She wanted to nurse her Master after he had drained every drop of blood from Mary.
She’ll have one amazing orgasm before she dies, Britney smiled. She deserves it.
It always astounded Britney that her best friend was such a whore. But, despite that, Britney had continued hanging out with Mary, ignoring all her friend’s teases about still being pure and resisting Mary’s every attempt to hook her up with a stud to pop her cherry.
Or to let Mary do it herself.
The idea of sleeping with Mary no longer disgusted Britney. She was free of morality now. Damien had unshackled her when he fed her his vampiric blood and made her into his Thrall.
Britney smiled as she stepped into the sunlight. She glanced at Damien’s house next door and smiled. She would get her Master food and tonight they would head to Chicago to rescue Abigail. Britney wasn’t sure why she knew Damien’s plans, she just did.
They were connected. She was his servant. Maybe I need to know his desires so I can fulfill them. Right now, he needs more blood to be strong.
Britney climbed into her car and drove to Our Lady Queen of Heaven to pick up Mary.
The drive didn’t take long. Pingree Grove wasn’t a large town. Technically, it was still a village despite the rapid growth in the new suburbs taking over what had been farmland when Britney was a child. Her drive took her past new construction.
Yesterday, it would have annoyed her. Today, she was beyond such things.
I’m Damien’s thrall. His nubile sex slave.
Britney had fantasized about serving a man, especially Damien. She had secretly read a few romance stories that bordered more on the erotica, all about sexual domination. They had excited her at times, and she had rubbed her virgin pussy while picturing Damien taking her in hand.
But now she didn’t need safewords with her Master like the women in her story. She was his. It was so wonderful to surrender to his desires.
A minute later, she pulled into the parking lot of Our Lady of Heaven. Her eyes narrowed at the crucifix prominently displayed. It was an image of faith. Her skin prickled. The church was blessed. Holy.
Britney’s eyes burned and she looked away.
Britney was glad Mary waited outside in her pink-and-black tartan skirt and half-unbuttoned blouse.
“Is this text true?” Mary asked the moment she climbed in.
Before answering, or even letting Mary safely buckle in, Britney jammed the accelerator. She had to get away from the church. The tires squealed as she drove the car through the parking lot towards the street.
“Damn,” Mary gasped, grabbing the handle above her door. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m just eager for our threesome,” Britney answered, her pussy itching. It was partly true.
“You are not shitting me, right?” Mary moaned. “What happened to uptight, virginal Britney.”
“Damien popped my cherry.”
“Damien?” Mary eyes goggled. “You actually seduced him away from his wife. Damn, I knew he was a pig. All men are. Just like Father Augustine.”
“He is not a pig,” hissed Britney. “He is my Master.”
“Master?” Mary grinned. “Ooh, this is getting so kinky. Is that who we’re having a threesome with?”
“Damn, I would have fucked a bum off the street if it meant I had a chance at your sweet body, Brit.” Mary licked her lips, then quickly reached out to touch Britney’s bare thigh.
A hot rush shot up Britney’s leg.
“Wow, this better be happening,” groaned Mary. “I need something juicy to confess to Father Augustine again. He fucked me hard.”
Britney looked at her friend. “What? You fucked the priest?”
“Mmm, he shot a big load in me as I bent across the altar. I finally got him.” Mary shuddered, her hand sliding higher. “And now I’m landing you and Damien. I never thought he looked at other women than his wife. I’ve tried to seduce him.”
“What?” Britney gasped, her hands tightening the steering wheel. Mary’s hand his higher. “You knew I had a crush on him.”
“And?” Mary’s hand reached Britney’s panties. “Damn, I am so excited to finally touch you. I never wanted to try too hard to seduce you. Didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“So you tried to seduce Master?”
“Master,” purred Mary. “You make that sound so natural and sexy.”
“I’m his Thrall,” Britney answered. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.
“Thrall? Is that, like, sex slave?”
Britney nodded. She gasped as Mary’s finger slid into Britney’s panties and rubbed at her pussy and her blonde curls. She slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop at an intersection as Mary probed a finger deep into her cunt.
“You are wet,” grinned Mary. “Do you have cum in you?”
Mary pulled out her finger and grinned at the spunk and pussy cream staining her digit. She brought it to her lips and sucked it into her mouth. Britney licked her lips and squeezed her thighs together. That is so hot.
“Want to taste Father Augustine’s cum?” Mark asked, spreading her thighs and revealing her drenched, pink panties.
“No,” Britney hissed in revulsion. “You have to take a shower first and clean your pussy out. Master deserves fresh, untainted pussy.”
“Did he send you out to bring him back another cunt to fuck?” Mary purred, rubbing her pussy through her panties.
“Yes,” Britney answered. Even if he didn’t explicitly tell me, I know he needs her blood.
“Damn,” panted Mary. “Drive faster.”
Two minutes later, Britney pulled her car into the D’Angelos’ driveway. Mary grinned as she climbed out of the car, her skirt slipping down her thighs and covering up her messy panties. Britney licked her lips.
Master will love draining her dry.
“There’s a bathroom on the first floor,” Britney reported. “Master’s sleeping.”
“Wore him out, slut?” asked Mary as Britney led her into the house through the open garage.
“No. he had a…rough night.” The memory of Damien hanging from the manacles, his flesh burned by the rising sun sent a stab of anger through her.
Britney pointed to the bathroom. “You can shower in there.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?” Mary asked, pulling off her top and baring her perky tits. Her pink nipples were hard, the right one pierced and the left one tattooed with the outline of a red heart surrounding her areola.
Britney licked her lips.
“We haven’t showered together since we were twelve,” pleaded Mary. “I promise not to bite.”
“I don’t mind being bit,” Britney admitted and pulled her top off, freeing her large, milk-laden tits.
“That’s the spirit.” Mary dropped her skirt and panties as she walked into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind. The shower hissed on as Britney stripped.
The two blondes stepped into the shower, the water matting their hair down. Britney’s natural gold darkened beneath the spray. Mary grinned as Britney noticed the silver ring piercing her clit and the tattoo of a lipstick kiss on her pudenda.
“I didn’t know you had these,” Britney said, tugging on the clit piercing.
“You’ve been afraid to see me naked,” Mary purred as she grabbed the shower massager and brought it between her legs. “Let me get rid of all of Father Augustine’s nasty cum so you’ll play with my pussy.”
“Yes,” Britney smiled, her nipples aching.
Mary leaned over as she rubbed the shower massager between her thighs, the water cascading down her legs, and sucked Britney’s right nipple between her lips. Britney shuddered as her breast milk flooded out into Mary’s mouth.
“Mmm,” Mary groaned, licking her lips. “It’s sweeter than I thought it would be.”
“Have you been dying to be nursed,” Britney asked, running her hands through Mary’s bleached blonde hair.
“Yes,” groaned Mary, hips undulating. Her pussy was clean; now she masturbated with the shower massager.
Britney groaned as Mary hungrily sucked on Britney’s nipple. Milk flowed into Mary’s mouth, shooting tingles down to Britney’s own pussy. Mary moaned as she suckled, her lips hallowing. Britney held her friend to her breast.
“Oh, I wish we had done this before,” moaned Britney. “I was such an idiot. We could have been having lots of fun.”
“So much fun,” groaned Mary before she sucked Britney’s other nipple into her mouth.
Mary shuddered as she nursed. The shower water hissed as it massaged her pussy. She suckled harder and harder as her moans grew louder. Britney shuddered, her pussy clenching every time her friend nursed.
“That’s it. You hungry, naughty girl,” moaned Briney. “Suckle from Momma’s big tits.”
The words made her feel even naughtier. Though they were the same age—Mary was only older by three months and seven days—the fantasy of nursing Mary like her own daughter made Britney’s hips shake.
She itched to touch her pussy and cum.
“Drink your fill. Drink all of Momma’s milk. Mmm, yes. That’s it. You’re such a hungry girl.”
Mary shuddered, suckling harder. A low, whining moan escaped Mary’s throat, growing louder and louder. Her lips popped off Britney’s nipple as she quaked. She leaned against Britney, and the busty girl held Mary upright as her orgasm swept through her.
“You fucking slut,” Mary panted between gasping breaths. “That Momma stuff was so hot. Mmm, you’re my busty, sexy Momma. I loved your milk.”
Mary pressed the shower head between Britney’s thighs. Britney gasped, her eyes shooting wide open as the dozens of small streams of water shot against her pussy, massaging her. She quaked as Mary latched onto Britney’s nipple, suckling hard again.
“Yes, yes, drink my milk and make Momma cum,” groaned Britney. “That’s it. Be a good girl and make your Momma cum.”
Mary rubbed the shower head up and down Britney’s slit. Streams of water shot into her pussy, caressing the inside of her walls. Britney shuddered and grasped the shower bar with her right hand, her left stroking Mary’s bleached-blonde hair.
Britney’s back arched as the leisure increased. The water massage didn’t put out her fires in her pussy—it stoked them. She gasped and moaned, holding onto the shower bar with a death grip as her hips writhed.
“So good,” Britney moaned, letting the pleasure wash through her. “That’s it. Make Momma cum. Drink Momma’s milk and make Momma feel wonderful like a good girl.”
“Yes, Momma,” Mary purred as she switched nipples.
Britney shuddered as Mary suckled hard. Britney’s nipple shot bliss down to her pussy. The tingling bliss of the milk flowing from her nipple trigger her orgasm. Her moans echoed through the bathroom as the bliss rushed through her.
Juices squirted from her pussy and were washed away by the warm water caressing her. She shuddered, her vision fuzzing as she swayed. Mary’s left arm, wrapped around Britney’s waist, held her tight as the young woman quaked.
“Yes, Mary, yes,” gasped Britney. “Wow, oh, wow, that was good. I never knew you could do that with a shower massager.”
Mary giggled as she pulled it away. Milk gleamed white on her lips. “You never tried that before?”
Britney shook her head, then she leaned down and kissed her friend, delighting in her creamy treat. Mary’s wet body pressed against Britney, so slippery and lithe. Britney held her friend while dark thoughts bounced through her mind.
I can’t wait for Master to enjoy you.
The scent of hot pussy awakened the sleeping vampire.
Damien D’Angelo’s eyes opened as his nostrils flared. Britney’s sweet musk filled his nose, but a tart scent mixed with it. Another woman was in the house. His enhanced hearing heard the two sets of hearts beating beneath the giggle of feminine voices coming from below.
His hunger stirred. A living, beating meal had walked into his house. Who was she? Why was she here? Why had Britney let her in?
Damien sat up from the blood encrusted sheets. He glanced at the clock. He had slept for hours, but it was summer, and there were still hours more before he could head to Chicago and free his wife from Faust.
I should find a place to stage out of in Chicago.
The scent of tart pussy and the beat of a warm heart called to Damien. His hungers overwhelmed his need to rescue his wife. Britney and another morsel awaited him. His mouth hungered to feast on the fresh human. His cock hardened.
He could enjoy the woman in multiple ways.
Damien slipped off his bed and instinctively moved with a hunter’s grace, his feet not making a sound as he crossed the hardwood floors. He reached the stairs and peered down. The girls were in the living room watching TV and talking about the most inane things.
He swiftly moved down the stairs from the third floor to the first. He stepped into the living room. Both girls were naked. Britney lounged on the couch with Mary’s head in her lap, Britney idyll stroking Mary’s hair.
Britney smiled, her nipples hardening at the sight of Damien. “For you, Master,” she mouthed, a wicked grin crossing her lips. Milk beaded at her excited nipples, adding a creamy, sweet scent to the air.
“When is Damien going to wake up?” Mary groaned. “It’s been hours. I want to be fucked.”
“I’m awake now,” Damien growled.
Mary jumped, then gasped. “Damien.” Her blue eyes ran up and down Damien’s naked body. “Mmm, you are even more gorgeous than I imagined.”
Even before Damien became a vampire, he was at the peak of his physical shape—muscular, athletic, tall, broad-shouldered. His change only enhanced his natural physique. His cock ached before him as Mary spread her thighs on the couch, an open invitation.
“Did you bring her, slut?” Damien growled.
“I did, Master,” shuddered Britney. “I knew you would need her. Isn’t she delicious.”
“Yes, she is.” This close, Damien could smell Mary’s blood beneath her skin. His mouth watered and his fangs grew sharp.
“Enjoy her, Master.”
“Yes, enjoy me,” moaned Mary, her hands running up and down her spread-apart thighs, oblivious to the danger she was in.
Aurora the angel watched in horror as Damien moved to the couch and the innocent, relatively speaking, Mary.
Aurora wanted to cross over from the Ether and stop Damien from feeding. There has to be a way for me to keep Mary alive. “How do we keep Damien focused on killing Faust?”
“He can’t kill Mary,” Gideon answered, the angel staring at his clipboard. “And the probability of that is 10%. Vampires have a hard time controlling their first few feedings. And once they kill, it goes to their head. He’ll be lost to the blood lust for weeks.” It was why most young vampires were easy to track down and kill.
“And Faust gets away,” Aurora groaned. “Again.” All because I failed to keep Damien and Abigail alive.
“Afraid so,” sighed Gideon. “This operation has not gone are way much at all. Using Damien as a vampire was a gamble anyways. We should alert Father Augustine through his prayers, make him suspicious. The Knights Venator can deal with Damien, and we’ll have to wait for another opportunity to take out Faust.”
“What about if Damien turns her?” Aurora asked.
“1%. The only reason he didn’t kill Britney was he knew her. He had watched her grow up next door. He cared for her. But Mary…she’s the girl that annoyed him with her blatant attempts at seduction. He won’t care about killing her.”
“Why wouldn’t he care about turning her?” Aurora demanded. “Most vampires turn a few others as sexual partners.”
Damien buried his face between Mary’s thighs and bit into her pudenda right on the kissing lips tattoo. Mary shuddered as the euphoric drug of Damien’s saliva entered her bloodstream. The vampire feasted on blood and pussy.
“He is too in love with Abigail and he has Britney for his sexual needs. It hasn’t even crossed his mind to turn Mary.”
How many more will die? “But if he does, he wouldn’t actually cross into the blood lust yet. It would give him time for control.”
Before Gideon could finish, and without thinking, Aurora leaned over and touched Damien. He growled in pain at her touch as she whispered in his ear, “Turn her.”
“You intervened without permission,” gasped Gideon. “Aurora, what have you done?”
Damien savored the rich, salty blood mixed with Mary’s tart pussy juices. The slut moaned as her body shook. Her eyes were wide, her lips quivering as the narcotic effect of his bite rushed through her body. Britney grinned, her fingers pulling on Mary’s nipples.
“Drain her dry, Master,” purred Britney. Her lips nipped Mary’s ear. “Doesn’t Master’s bite feel amazing?”
“Oh, god, yes,” Mary groaned, her thighs tightening on Damien’s head.
Damien licked up her slit, gathering blood and pussy juices. Her reached her clit and flicked it. Mary shuddered. Her hips undulated, griding against him as fresh trickles of blood reached his mouth, coating his tongue.
He thrust his tongue deep into her hot depths, gathering up her pussy juices. The tart cream was almost as good as her blood. He drank it down as she writhed and bucked, smearing her hot flesh against his hungry lips.
Damien bit into her labia.
“Yes,” gasped Mary. “Oh, fuck, what is he doing to me, Britney?”
“Feeding,” Britney purred. She had slid down so Mary’s head pillowed on Britney’s lush breasts. Britney’s lips nibbled on Mary’s ear. “He’s going to drink your blood and shower you in ecstasy.”
Mary groaned. “I don’t care what he’s doing to me. I feel…wonderful. I’m floating, Brit. Damn, what did you slip me? Oh, we need music. That would be wonderful.” Mary undulated, griding her pussy into Damien’s hungry mouth. “Love this high.”
“Just relax and enjoy.”
Damien grinned at his Thrall. Joy burned in Britney’s blue eyes as she pinched and rolled her friend’s nipples. He took another long lick up Mary’s pussy. Her blood was sweet. Her flesh warm. Inviting.
His hunger grew. The trickles of blood flowing from her bite marks on her pubic mound and labia barely satiated his hungers. His cock ached for her flesh.
Damien wanted to drain her dry.
There was a part of him that remembered being a vampire hunter, a part that urged him not to kill, but the little strumpet was right here. Wet, warm, full of blood, begging to be fucked and drained. She’ll cum so hard as I drain—
Pain flared across his temple.
“Master?” Britney asked.
Damien frowned. The voice sounded liked Abigail’s. If she cums as she dies, I can turn her. She came be…mine. My weapon against Faust.
“Don’t you want to drink her dry, Master,” Britney moaned, her lips nibbling now at Mary’s soft neck.
“Yes,” he growled.
Damien rose over Mary’s body. His telekinetic power—his vampiric gift—spread Mary’s pussy lips open and guided his cock into her pussy. It was strange feeling an invisible tough on his dick as he draped himself over her and lowered his body to hers.
His cock touched her bloody pussy. Mary gasped as he entered her tight, wet hole. Her pussy clenched down on his cock. The pleasure shuddered through him. He bared his fangs as he growled his pleasure.
“Right here, Master,” Britney moaned before kissing Mary’s neck right above her carotid artery.
The artery beat in Mary’s throat as his hips thrust his cock in and out of her cunt. Mary gasped and shuddered beneath him. Her blood called to him. He leaned down and kissed her throat, loving the flutter of her life beneath his lips.
“Fuck,” Mary gasped as her blood flooded his mouth. He sucked hard, letting it fill his mouth and drive his hips to fuck her even harder.
Mary spasmed beneath him, her body gripped by the ecstasy of his bite as her heart beat out her life, pouring it into Damien. His mouth drank it her salty life. He sucked hard, loving every drop of of her salty life. Blood leaked out and Britney cooed in delight, her lips kissing at his, gathering the spilled blood.
“So wonderful,” Britney gasped. “You taste amazing.”
“Good,” Mary gasped.
Her heart beat weaker as her head lolled back into Britney’s shoulder. Damien’s cock was gripped by her pussy. Mary gave one more buck as she headed into blood shock. She moaned as the ecstasy of being drained of every drop of her blood burst through her.
The slut came. Her pussy massaged Damien’s cock. Drunk on her blood, Damien slammed his dick into her pussy. His balls erupted. He flooded her pussy with blast after blast of his cum. The girl spasmed a final time and then let out a happy sigh as her heart beat its last as a living human.
Damien lifted his bloody lips, growling as his cock dumped a final blast of cum into Mary’s body. The change settled into the dead girl. Soon she would awaken, sired by Damien into unlife. Britney nuzzled at her friend’s neck, gathering up the last bit of blood dribbling out of Mary’s wounds.
“Did you kill her, Master?” shuddered Britney, her lips stained crimson.
“I turned her.”
Britney smiled. “How absolutely wonderful, Master.” She nuzzled Mary’s ear. “I’ll hold you until you wake up, then you can drink my blood. I bet you’ll love it as much as I will.”
Damien grinned at his Thrall and his Vampiress. They were his.
Abigail D’Angelo woke up naked on the concrete floor, alerted by the scraping of the metal door.
She gained her feet in an instant, her hunter instincts augmented by the changes to her body. She hissed at the three strong men that entered. They were naked and alive. Each was muscular, their cocks throbbing hard.
“We’re here to feed you, fangwhore,” the Black man growled, the largest of the three. His thick hand stroked his fat, ebony cock. “And fuck you like the filthy slut you are.”
Abigail hissed and threw herself at them.
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 5.
I have released a part 20 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!by