Start at Chapter 1.
See the link in my profile to find all my stories and more chapters to this story
Each chapter is like a 'stealth mission', with lots of slow build-up and pervy creeping around. The protagonist's mission is always to rape and abduct his victims, adding to his harem of vampires. Then occasional chapters show his sexual family lifestyle with his mind-controlled free-use slaves. Then right back to another stealth mission.
-I'm just trying to be helpful with these disclaimers. I don’t want to spring things on anyone!
-My writing is SUPPOSED to be gross and wrong, which is what makes it so thrilling to write! You SHOULD feel icky reading it, which is why I consider it HORROR! I try to creep myself out as I write, getting into the mindset of a perverted VILLAIN. We're all acknowledging he is evil and wrong. Obviously these things should never be done in real life! I’m assuming we’re all mature adults that can separate fantasy from reality.
-This is PORN NOT PLOT.
-All characters are 18+.This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to events, locales, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
-Death / Blood / Gore / Murder / Snuff (he’s a true vampire villain)
-Gross Sniffing/Tasting (gross bodily fluids/smells, feet)
-Creeping around (lots of this, sorry if it’s boring)
-Slow start, builds to brutal ending
-Rape / Sadism / Violence towards women / Non-mutual non-con
-Dog will never be harmed! lol
Chapter 6 - New Life
Three days are filled with sleep, snuggling, and insouciant sex. Three nights spent on short excursions out to nearby neighborhoods to teach Eva the ways of stealth and hunting. The daughter I claimed from my old college campus, I think she’s ready for a bigger mission at my side. Which means my wife Victoria can remain safely home with baby Adam more often, relying on the two of us to hunt for blood, collect more women.
Late into the morning, I sit alone in the office off the foyer at the front of the house. Vee’s late husband had everything I could possibly want in his massive property, including this quiet place where I can escape and do research for our next raid. I sit at the giant mahogany desk, glow of the laptop the only light in the dim room.
This past night, Vee had mentioned a new struggle she’s been having with Adam. Her breast milk doesn’t seem to satisfy him, as if her new inhuman body is producing less and less nutrition. She switched to formula, but I can tell she’s devastated. We need better care for the baby. So I’ve decided on a choice of victim for our next mission. Mothers. Who’ve recently given birth. And we’ll need to keep them human, keep them as nannies, as cows.
We’ve tried to think of places nearby where we could pull this off. Hospitals, day cares, some sort of parenting courses? Anything we think of is either daytime, we lack invitation, or just involves too many people, too exposed.
So I’ve resorted to scrolling through my old social media feeds from when I was human, looking for anything of use. Hmm interesting. I see a post from my cousin, Laura. Nine months pregnant. About to burst soon. Damn, how many is that for her now? Christians always pop out so many. Probably because the only time they’re supposed to have sex is during procreation.
At first I scroll past it, dismissing the idea as too far-fetched. But I double back, staring at her face in the photo. Pretty hazel eyes surrounded by subtle makeup. Curly brown hair, all shiny and done-up. Soft small body, and facial features a perfect mix of her German and Spanish parents. I always had a crush on her. We were the same age, days apart, grew up almost like brother and sister, playing together at their farm all the time. A country girl, warm and motherly even back then. But it seems like another lifetime, like someone else’s memories, someone else’s cousin. Now I only see flesh to be used and enjoyed.
I take the laptop into the other room. Vee sits on the couch in the living room, cradling a sleeping Adam in one arm, Eva curled up asleep under the other. She smiles lovingly as I approach. I lean down, showing her the screen, “What do you think, babe?”
Her face lights up, eyes flickering as she inspects my old cousin, “She’s gorgeous master! Aw do you really think you could get her?” I smile, leaning down to give her a sensual kiss of affirmation.
“We’ll see. I don’t have her address. And we couldn’t enter without an invitation anyway. But I know their church.”
* * *
A chill sweeps through the air as we work our way from the parking lot toward the towering building. Late at night, the place nice and deserted. Eva hisses in fear next to me as a giant cross looms down over us from the top of New Life Baptist Church. I hold her hand to calm her, and we skirt to the back of the building to avoid its line of sight.
I don’t tell her, but a inexplicable fear cuts through me as well. Damn crosses everywhere! They hurt, even at a distance. I have a terrible feeling about this place. We’re not welcome.
A fading memory of my cousins, aunt, and uncle coming here tickles at the back of my mind. I never understood the whole faith thing, but they seemed to love it. Such a huge community gathers here every week. I had mentioned to Eva my memory of all the attractive Christian girls that my cousins knew here. So many pure, innocent females, ripe for the picking. Keeping their bodies pristine and untouched, saving themselves for marriage. Eva was absolutely giddy to tag along on my trip over to scope the place out.
But now we find ourselves utterly repulsed, unable to get very close, let alone enter the building. Just like my experiences with homes I wasn’t invited to, it’s as if there’s an invisible wall repelling our entry. But worse, painful. The grounds are hallowed, protected from us.
“Daddy, there!” Eva whispers and points. Near the side entrance door are a bunch of fliers and newsletters pinned to a bulletin board. We look them over. Almost every upcoming event is inside this stupid building. But one of them mentions a small gathering at someone’s farmhouse. I recognize the names. Friends of my cousins. A bonfire and late night youth and ‘singles’ gathering after church a few days from now. Younger adults, outside at night. And we might get lucky and find Laura there.
I gaze down at my lovely Kitten, and a mischievous little grin creeps up on her face. “Perfect.”
* * *
The night of the gathering, Eva and I scan the vast property from the treeline. An icy freshness in the air. We wear all black, hoods up. Shadows in the night. We had parked a quarter-mile up the road, hid the car behind some trees, walked the rest of the way. Both of us strapped with backpacks full of basic supplies.
These people have a lovely farm. A quiet, cozy sort of wealth to the place. A barn to our right, the big house straight ahead across from a gravel horseshoe-shaped driveway filled with cars. Then a garage, a few sheds, and several fenced-off areas for different types of animals. Plenty of cover, and I hear voices from somewhere, but no sign of people yet.
Then we see a door at the house, and a group of lively young people walk out carrying food. Chatting and laughing. We’re too far to see much, but it looks like they’re headed into the back yard. A path that leads toward the woods further back in the property, somewhere beyond the garage and sheds.
I motion to Eva and we slip silently around the barn, following at a distance. Trees here and there give us cover. The people cross a little bridge that goes over a dried up and muddy creek. We follow, careful not to make a sound.
There, ahead is a clearing, not far from the house after all, but distanced enough to give a slight camping, woodsy experience. A bonfire crackling. Chairs surrounding it, with even more people gathered around, laughing and enjoying the night. Oblivious to the creatures watching them from the shadows. We sneak as close as we dare, hugging a fence that leads to a few trees with a good view of the people. A cow on the other side of the fence moos at us as we pass, but we carry on.
From our safe vantage point, we can take our time inspecting the group of Christians. I smile. I wasn’t wrong. There seems to be at least a few cute young women. A curious bunch, these Baptists. Most females wear skirts, as pants are kind of considered men’s clothing except for certain occasions like sports. They dress quite formally, even for a casual campfire event like this. Always looking their best, pampered and pristine and womanly. But still modern-looking besides that, hoodies and whatnot. They’re all so delicate and feminine, such traditional reserved beauty. Still trying to look attractive, but not like most women in the modern day that dress like ‘sluts’ or wear tons of makeup. I actually appreciate the classy, modest look. It makes the thought of exploring their carefully-concealed bodies all the more exciting.
As we watch patiently, to our surprise one of the ladies starts singing, as others continue chatting merrily. Fuck they’re weird. The girl is vaguely talented, if a bit pretentious. But damn she’s drop-dead gorgeous. A thin brunette with a sleek sort of natural elegance. Early twenties, a youthful appearance, but a bit older-looking than baby-faced Eva next to me. Shiny straight brown hair, somehow making straight bangs look incredible. A face that would make a supermodel jealous. Such beauty is wasted on a girl that will refuse to put it to good use.
We notice a dog running around among them. A great black thing. German Shepherd mix, but very shaggy and scruffy. Tonight’s difficulty just went up. We’ll have to avoid it carefully.
The dog keeps returning to a certain woman. Clearly they have a close bond. Another outgoing young lady who seems to be the life of the party, but in a more subtle way than the singer. A short girl, also early twenties. Pinkish skin, natural strawberry blonde hair swirling in perfectly-done spirals over her shoulders. Her pudgy cheeks never stop smiling beneath her adorable, almost hipster-like glasses. While soft-spoken, her giggles are contagious, and her heart-warming words seem to lift everyone around her. After a few minutes of observing, it becomes apparent that she lives at this farm. A country girl. Fairly wealthy.
And there! There she is! My cousin Laura. Eva notices too, reaching out and caressing my leg as I kneel there. Laura sits by the fire, her husband next to her. Even bundled up in a coat and blankets, it’s clear she’s pregnant. She wears a cute winter hat, curly hair flowing out over her shoulders, soft tan face glowing beautifully in the firelight. She sits surrounded by friends, the center of everything, in a way that makes her look like such a prized possession. A swaddled little treasure I can’t wait to unwrap. I feel a twitch in my pants.
But being huddled in the center of everything means she’s impossible to get at. She’s doted on by all, and she’ll be escorted everywhere. Never alone. Tonight will need to get bloody.
It becomes clear after a few minutes that the trek to and from the house is a fairly common occurrence with these people. For bathroom breaks or grabbing more food. We wait and sure enough one of the men says he’ll be back and heads off alone back the way we came. I nod my head, allowing Eva her first time taking the lead on a kill. Her striking green eyes sparkle with glee from the opportunity, and she swiftly scurries from tree to tree, looping around to head the guy off from the side. Even on a raid, she presents herself as she should for her daddy. I enjoy the sight of her cute butt, squeezed tightly into some sexy dark jeans. Black and white checkered skate sneakers on her feet, black hoodie cloaking her in the night.
I watch from further away, and my daughter takes him out with deft precision. Not a sound. The man drops. He was twice her size but didn’t stand a chance. He was a good one to remove from their herd, a strong one that could’ve given us trouble. I chuckle as Eva decides to string him up with rope from her bag. The little imp has a thing for the theatrics.
With Eva no longer in site, I post up nearby and wait, realizing what she’s doing. A few minutes later, another two people start approaching on their way to the house. I move closer, hoping Eva is flanking from the other side like she should be. Just as I move in to pounce at a young fat woman, sure enough I catch a glimpse of my Kitten ambushing the woman’s wimpy-looking husband simultaneously across from me. The wife notices something and points, opening her shocked mouth to scream. They don’t see Eva or me, they see their friend hanging dead, swinging from a tree.
I sink my fangs into delicious jugular just as the lady tries to scream, resulting in a wonderfully disgusting gurgle of forced air and blood shooting up out of her mouth. I feel something burning, searing the flesh on my chin, and I quickly claw at a silver necklace around her neck, breaking it and tossing it safely to the ground. The guy next to her whips his head toward me, eyes wide, about to shout. Just in time, I see Eva’s long claws wrap around his throat from behind, dispatching him effortlessly. Blood shoots out from the man’s throat in a pleasant mist that sprays across my face before he drops to the ground under Eva.
In a frenzy of lust for all things these bodies offer, we lap and suck and tear at their clothing. Exposing the two people's bare skin. Eva enjoying the man, while I rip open the woman’s jacket and shirt, exploring her tits. Disappointing. She’s too chubby, and her breasts too small despite her size. I flip up her skirt to find unappealing granny-panties. A fair appetizer, but I need better. I look up from my meal and see a similar expression on Eva, her mouth dripping with blood, but otherwise unimpressed. We drain them quickly, gaining strength, but then move on.
We swiftly retrieve the hanging man and hide the bodies behind some trees, slipping back toward the fire. At least we’ve quenched our thirsts a bit, so now we can think more level-headed, move with less reckless haste.
We return to the fire and notice the ‘singing girl’, along with just one guy, has separated from the rest of the group. They walk on a path further out into a wooded area of the property, just enjoying a quiet stroll in the night. We wait for an opening, wait for that great black dog to run to the far side of the clearing out of the way. Then I glance at Eva and she nods, following at my heel into the woods as we stalk after the couple.
The noise from the gathering at the fire dies down as we get further out. The couple are so oblivious to their surroundings, Eva and I have no trouble sneaking along behind them. They walk with an awkward sexual tension that says they clearly haven’t done anything with each other yet. They don’t even hold hands though they walk as close to each other as possible.
The guy is platinum blonde, tall and skinny. As unfairly good-looking as his thin brunette girlfriend now that I look at him. He looks up and points, “Taylor, look.” They romantically talk about the beauty of the clear star-filled night sky, and I notice Taylor’s hand. An engagement ring. Bet they’re dying to get married and get at each other. God, the babies these two would’ve made. Could’ve been actors or models. Shame.
As we approach the couple, I motion at Eva with my head, telling her to go for the guy. She nods and smiles. Then we strike as one.
Gurk! The guy is lurched sideways as Eva tackles her full weight into him a split second before I reach Taylor. The brunette spins around in shock, and I lunge at her before she knows what happened. My fangs sink into her soft neck, right in the front, puncturing, crushing. Draining her life force, putting her into a weakened daze almost instantly. She yelps pathetically, and her voice is noticeably raspy. That musical throat of hers is damaged.
My tongue swirls, lapping at blood but also tasting her smooth skin. Up close I notice how perfect her tan is, a gentle glow underneath her darker brown hair. I hug her weakening body close to mine, sucking more and more. Her thin frame is surprisingly soft and pliable. My nose catches a scent that makes me moan with delight, her silky hair draping around my face as the dazed girl stumbles and collapses. She smells smoky like campfire, but there’s a hint of a sweet, almost candy-like smell that I’m sure is her normal scent. A bright, uplifting aroma. I can feel myself harden within seconds from how enticing this girl is! The touch of her body, her delicate femininity, immaculate skin, everything about her emits a sparkling radiance that makes me want to dive into her.
I bend down and pick her up. She barely weighs a thing. Her gray hoodie presses into me, and I feel small but soft breasts beneath. I fireman-carry her over to Eva, who rolled a little ways off the path, slashing her claws and biting her fangs into the boyfriend. I patiently let my daughter finish, happily standing there feeling up the girl slung over my shoulder. Like a cat toying with a fallen bird. A songbird.
Taylor’s ass is small like the rest of her, but again she’s so soft and touchable! I squeeze her cheeks from over her full-length skirt, brightly-colored blues and greens. The fabric couldn’t be any thinner, a silkiness to match the girl underneath. I feel around, seems like she wears tights for warmth under the skirt. I play with the shape of her butt crack under there, pushing cloth between her cheeks, then jiggling them a bit. She squirms on my shoulder, barely conscious, but aware enough of what she’s feeling to be horrified and humiliated. I slap her ass, hissing at her cruelly, “Stop your wiggling.” To my delight, she actually does. Conservative chicks are the best. They tend to know their place.
Eva has the boyfriend half-drained, but stops suddenly. She looks up at me and a flash of glowing red flickers in her eyes. I cock an eyebrow. Well that’s new. A surge of power is clearly rushing through her, her claw-like fingernails extending a couple inches further. I feel it too, each time we drink from these people. All this pure, young blood is pulsing with vitality. But this is the most Eva’s ever had in such a short time. “How are you feeling, Kitten?”
“Daddy! Ha! This is amazing!” She giggles, cute but absolutely blood-crazed. Her chest heaving, a murderous lust coursing through her. It’s too much for her, but I wait, seeing where she goes with this. She picks up the half-dead boyfriend and carries him effortlessly toward a nearby livestock fence. Pigs. She tosses him in and waits. As the pigs start congregating around the helpless dying man, Eva looks over at me, panting, red shining bright in her eyes, and grins with an expression of pure evil that takes me aback. Fuck, what a little psycho.
Eva returns to me, still panting excitedly, “So what should we do with her daddy?” Without hesitation, she leans in at Taylor’s ass bent over my shoulder and shoves her little face in, rubbing around, inhaling and moaning. She leans away again, “God she smells good!” My cock is a steel pipe in my pants as Taylor whimpers, half-conscious on my shoulder.
“Oh! I know!” Eva decides on something, looking at a nearby tree. She starts happily unpacking rope from her bag again, then wraps it around the trunk of the tree. She motions for Taylor, so I hand her over. Eva stands the girl up and slings the rope around her delicate neck, then pulls it tight from the opposite side of the tree.
“Have fun, daddy!” Eva calls out from the other side of the tree as she holds the rope tight, lightly choking Taylor, keeping her helplessly standing there, bound and waiting for me.
Wasting no time at all, I dive in at the young lady pinned in front of me. Long bashful eyelashes go wide with fear as she finally gets a good look at her monstrous assailant. She lets out a strained squeak instead of the scream she intended, her hands pulling weakly at the rope choking her. I press myself at her flailing body, her weakened kicks and slaps barely noticeable as I lick up the side of her exquisite neck, cheek, and ear. Her face turning away in disgust. Her sweet candy-like scent sends a shiver through me. I grab her head in both hands, that silky straight hair so soft under my fingers, and wrench her face toward mine. My mouth engulfs hers, tasting her thin yet soft lips.
And she bites at me, chomping down with all her strength on my lip! I laugh, letting her get it out of her system. When she lets go I stare her straight in her sexy brown eyes, making her witness my wound healing within seconds. Taylor gasps and tries to scream again, just croaking against the rope. She’s drained and weak, but has enough fight left in her to make things fun.
“You’re feisty. Here’s what that gets you.” I step back a bit and start wailing into her, violent punches straight into her thin belly, her small breasts. Thud Thud Thud! Only hard enough to send a message. And it doesn't take much for such a dainty girl. She squirms and gasps for breath. The feeling on my hands is unreal. Such a tender sweet girl, brutally beaten, not far from all her friends at the bonfire. A feeling she’s undoubtedly never felt in her life. Who would ever treat such a perfect beauty like this? So pure and innocent, probably cherished and loved by everyone who knows her. I hurl one more punch right into her pubic mound, sending the girl into a world of blinding agony.
Caught up in a fit of pained coughing, Taylor doesn’t notice my hands groping at her skirt. My head forcing its way up and under as I kneel before her. The stuffy warm air is thick in my lungs as I breathe her in, invade her space, let her skirt drape around me. Revealing her long skinny legs, wrapped tantalizingly in warm black tights.
Classy little black boots start kicking at me again pathetically as she regains her composure enough to struggle and clamp her legs shut, trying to retain an ounce of modesty. I don’t allow it, my hands prying her knees wide, tearing at the crotch of her tights.
Rip! The black fabric splays open easily, exposing sky-blue panties beneath. Though full-coverage and somewhat modest, they’re sexy and cute. A bikini style that shows off Taylor’s smooth legs and hugs tight to her little pussy underneath. Though a prude, and though not intending to reveal this area of her body to anyone anytime soon, she still puts a bit of effort into looking attractive all over. Probably gives her a womanly sort of confidence.
I kneel down and shove my face into the young woman’s crotch. A raspy squeal blasts from her choking throat above me, her humiliation fueling me on. Skinny thighs squeeze on either side of my head , but I ignore her futile attempts to repel me, my nose nuzzling right into her panties. I can feel the shape of her lips beneath, my nose digging up into the cleft of her cunt. I inhale. More of her candy scent, mixed with a sour pungency. Not exactly unpleasant, but it’s finally something that brings this perfect little saint down to earth a bit. I rub and breathe deeply, relishing the lewd smell. Something I’m sure no one has ever experienced. Taylor would never allow something so sinful. My tongue lashes out at the fabric, wetting it as I groan and thrash my face around wildly in her crotch.
But her stupid thighs keep wiggling and struggling. Her knees hit at my chest. She’s drained and loopy, but still moves enough to be an annoyance.
So I stand and tuck her lovely multicolored skirt up and into its own waistband out of the way, then grab a fistful of her panties… and pull straight up, hard! She lets out a hoarse shriek of shock and pain as I wedgie her underwear high up into her slit. I feel the fabric tear a bit, so I keep going. She thrashes around, desperate to make it stop, but I yank and tug violently until it gives. The dainty cloth shredding and only hanging on by loose threads that dig way up into her sensitive genitals. Another sharp pull away from her and the panties come free, tossed to the ground.
Then it’s time to dig in, so I reach down and lift her legs up high. Without them to support her weight, she starts choking and gurgling even worse, her hands grasping desperately at the rope around her neck to hold herself up. I pause to enjoy the sight for a second, Taylor’s face getting red, black tears running down her cheeks from the bit of subtle makeup she wears. The more I do to this girl, the more it’s like I’m watching an angel falling from grace. Piece by piece, the purity defiled.
I grip up under the crook of her knees and pin her legs straight up toward her head. And to my delight, she’s extremely flexible. She seemed to be a singer, maybe she’s a dancer too? Her body seems like the ballet type I guess, very athletic now that I think of it. I push hard, testing her limits, and her knees go all the way to either side of her face, black boots kicking around up in the air above her head. This position makes her crotch jut out straight in front of my face, the perfect height, gloriously on display, torn black tights splayed wide open.
Croaking sobs ring through the night air as I finally see the lovely little Christian’s bare cunt. A whiff of that sour musk of hers hits my nose again as her exposed crotch is raised inches in front of my face. Her skin down here is much paler, never seeing the sun. And red and raw, having taken such punishment from the wedgie, little beads of blood dribbling around her slit from the abuse. A patch of thick dark fur covers her pubic mound, trimmed short and neat, but probably only for herself to feel like she’s keeping her body maintained and girly. I lick at the inner thigh to my right, slowly examining her, savoring her humiliation in this position.
Even with her legs pried up wide like this, her pussy lips don’t quite spread open. She has quite a small, tight vagina. Little puffy outer labia that totally hides her folds in a cute little ‘innie’. A petite, almost young appearance. Except for the hair. While she trims pretty well, a few stray strands run wild here and there. And who can blame her? Taylor never dreamed she’d have to show off such a private area tonight. Or maybe ever, knowing these Baptists. To her, this part of her body is a place meant only for the bathroom, the shower, the toilet.
I kiss my way down her pinned-up thighs, enjoying every soft delicate inch of her skin down here. And when I reach the pussy, I dive straight in, nuzzling and forcing my way through her puffy outer lips. I sniff and lick and suck, little beads of blood from her cruel wedgie teasing my tongue. She tastes a bit salty, hasn’t washed all that recently, everything prudishly pinched tight and stuffed in clothing all day.
“When’s the last time you fucking showered, bitch?” She just whimpers, still struggling to keep the rope from choking her. I slurp around in her little dark pink folds again, tongue piercing deep inside her extremely tight hole. A hint of piss flavor. And her fluids seem fairly bitter. Sticky and viscous. But these little flaws just make her more interesting, a chip in the paint that only adds to her appeal. She almost seemed too perfect before, sickeningly sweet, cringey. The way she sings, knowing she’s the prettiest girl in the group. Untouchable, even to her boyfriend. Now look at her. Couldn’t be any more touched, my tongue deep in her cunt.
Taylor’s vagina is tiny, clearly unused, maybe even by her. My tongue alone practically stuffs her full, her walls squeezing around it painfully tight. So I take my time, spending a few extra minutes digging and swirling around. After a while, she loosens up, completely against her will.
I lift off her and peek lower down. Her tiny little asshole stares back at me. Close to perfection yet again, even in the crudest of areas. It’s somehow… cute. A puckered little button, with a few little nasty stray hairs here and there, but otherwise a subtle, compact little thing.
Even in her struggle to breathe, even in her dazed state, her long legs kick around and fight me when she realizes I’m staring inches from her anus. So I concede and let the legs drop, only to reach my hands up and grope at her clothing.
My hands wrench all her layers up her torso, classy gray hoodie, then a cute red flannel shirt, so outdoorsy and befitting the season. I reach bare stomach and pause to caress my hands along the perfect porcelain skin. She’s so fit, so flawless. It makes me curious what she does to get such an athletic figure. Sports that reveal too much skin or interact too much with boys would be sinful.
Continuing up, I reveal a sexy little white bralette, soft and snug against her small breasts. Her nipples are hardened and poking up at the fabric. I impatiently pull the bralette up too, inspecting Taylor’s last private area.
Dark pink nipples, hard but tiny, even the areolas small in diameter. I flick at them tauntingly, watching her squirm and choke against her rope. My cock is beginning to really ache, left throbbing in my pants for so long.
I pull out my raging meat, making sure Taylor sees it, and start pumping it menacingly in front of her. And yet again, the bitch kicks at me! I catch her foot and laugh, shaking my head at her adorable stubbornness.
I lift the foot and start unbuckling her fancy little boot, pulling it off and tossing it aside. Her black tights cover her feet as well as her legs, so sophisticated and appealing. I press her struggling foot straight onto my face, rubbing around the sole, inhaling deeply and feeling her clammy heat. She yelps in shocked horror, her eyes meeting mine, a look of shame and disgust plastered on her face. As if she can’t believe such a depraved creature could possibly exist.
My mouth engulfs her tights-covered toes, sucking and licking. It’s predictably gross. Sweaty and hot from being stuffed in these little boots all day. But just like the rest of the girl, they couldn’t be sexier. The perfect, athletic form yet again. She could model any part of her body. An unfair beauty that is only heightened by a bit of a foul flavor.
Her kicking foot gets seriously annoying after a minute, so I lunge at her and find a soft section of neck where the rope isn't in the way. I plunge my fangs in, creating yet another set of bite-marks in her neck. I suck for a moment, feeling that surge of pure blood again. Virgin blood. Taylor stops flailing around and droops into a drug-like state. She’ll be better off anesthetized for the coming storm I’m about to unleash upon her anyway.
I lift the girl’s legs again, gripping the crook of her knees, pushing them back as far as they go toward her head, exposing her crotch before me once more. My cock is so rock-solid that it aims itself forward hands-free. I move my hips, poking and prodding until I get it in the perfect angle at her entrance. Then I stab forward without a care in the world for the poor girl.
Taylor’s pretty eyes go wide from the sudden explosion of pain, waking her back up, only enough to make her realize how close she was to choking to death with most of her weight hanging from the rope around her neck. She claws at it and gurgles out a strained little rattle of sound as I enter her.
The perfect little Christian lady. Beloved by all. Such a pampered life. Prettiest girl around. Saving herself for marriage... Now hangs choking from a tree. Cock deep in her virgin cunt. Defiled and broken.
Her pussy was loosened as much as it could be, and slicked with my spit. But nothing could've prepared such a tiny hole for such a vicious first time. I treat her like I would one of my experienced other women, testing her limits as if she were a new car I was considering buying. A farm animal I was sizing up for its meat. Her walls contract on my shaft with extreme pressure, not knowing what to do with this new feeling. I smile, nuzzling my cheek up against a leg next to me, which wiggles adorably around up in the air.
I pull my hips back and look down to see my shaft coated in delicious blood, profusely dripping from her hole. Spurred by my monstrous thirst, I lift her legs higher, forcing her little crotch to raise to my face. And I shove my mouth in, lapping and sucking at the wonderful nectar. She starts spasming, face starting to turn a bit blue from the rope hanging her.
I lower her again and thrust my pulsing member inside once more, relishing the feeling of slick blood lubricating her for me. A demonic growl escapes me as I give in to exactly what my body desires, pumping with a ferocity that Taylor surely won’t be able to endure very long.
Splat Splat Splat! The wet sounds emitting from her as I slam in and out only serve to drive me into more of a blood-lust. I can feel her back scraping painfully into the tree trunk behind her. Her face and torso slick with sweat from the torturous experience her body is being put through. And peeking between her pushed-up legs, I see those pretty brown eyes staring back at me, going cross-eyed, losing focus. I thrust harder into her sopping cunt as the teary, bloodshot eyes start to droop and close.
I feel her body losing strength, losing that feisty stubbornness she had. She’s slipping away. So I push harder, determined to race her to the finish. Pummeling her perfect little pussy. Leaning my face forward to lick at her legs and face, inhale her candy scent one more time.
My body tenses up. I let out a climactic groan. And I shoot my sperm deep inside her, just as I lunge forward at her neck, opening up yet another pair of holes in the singer’s throat. I suck in through my mouth, while I spurt out from my cock. Pooling my cream inside her, splashing against her womb at the back. My hips keep pumping in and out on their own, all the way through my climax, churning and sloshing fluids around inside her.
A perfect little angel hangs from the tree. A songbird silenced. The delights of her body no longer squandered. Her radiant beauty serving its purpose, enjoyed and used to its fullest potential, as it should be. Inseminated and exsanguinated.