Blood for the Vampiress Ch. 03

Then the fluorescent ceiling lights flickered out.

Something came snarling out of the shadows.

***

Melvin stumbled into the bathroom, the world revolving as if God had decided to spin the Earth like a basketball on His infinite finger. Keeping up with Morgan's whiskey shots had proved more than Melvin had bargained for, and his disagreement with the devil's piss spewed copious splattering heaves into a yellowed toilet.

He rubbed his wrist against his mouth, wondering how he had ended up in this shithole town in this shithole saloon barfing his will to live down this shithole toilet.

"Hey, sweetie! Look what I found," came Morgan's voice to his left. Melvin's noticed a small hole in the wall where he could see one of Morgan's sharp blue eyes peering at him from the other side.

"What the hell are you doing over there?" Melvin replied. His mouth tasted of bile.

"A glory hole!" Morgan said. "Quick, put your cock through."

Melvin's head tried to process the information, but it just didn't register. He placed a hand on the stall wall, but the world would not steady. God refused to stop His spinning basketball-finger trick. Vomit rose like a rumbling volcano, but Melvin swallowed it.

"My cock?"

"God, Melvin. I'm not some random whore. I'm your wife. Put your cock in the hole and let me blow you."

Who was he to argue with his wife? Melvin floundered on his legs and maneuvered his crotch towards the hole, unzipping his fly and pulling out his flaccid penis. He awarded himself a mental pat on the back as he managed to get his dick through the hole in the bathroom wall. The strangeness of the situation did not disturb him; the whiskey took care of that. The devil's piss burned away his inhibitions.

He felt the cool grip of a hand on his cock, and his wife stroked him to lengthening hardness. Melvin sighed, closed his eyes. He leaned his head against the bathroom wall, the concrete pushing his glasses hard against the bridge of his nose.

"Mmmmm," Morgan's voice said on the other side of the wall. Melvin felt her lips slide over him, her wet tongue licking delicious flourishes on the underside of his manhood.

Melvin's breathing quickened; pleasure cut clarity through his drunken haze. Was this really happening? Was Morgan blowing him through a hole in some strange saloon?

He gnashed his teeth as Morgan quickened her pace, her hand stroking him into her mouth, her tongue lashing out at him with slobbery slaps. His heart pounded in his chest like a bird flapping against his ribcage in hopes of escaping.

His balls flopped against the rim of the hole as he pressed himself harder against the wall, Melvin lost in the pure sensation of the incredible head his wife was laying on him.

"Oh god, oh god," Melvin breathed.

Then he felt his cum rushing up from the root of his testicles through his engorged shaft and into his wife's waiting mouth. She swallowed what he gave her, and when he was sucked dry, he felt her slide him out and smack her lips. Then she was gone.

Breathless, Melvin pulled up his jeans and buckled his belt with shaky hands. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He stumbled out of the stall, washed his hands, and left the bathroom, feeling much better than he had when he had entered.

"Honey, that was so good," Melvin said as he flopped on the stool next to Morgan. She gave him a strange look.

"What the hell are you talking about, babe?"

Melvin was about to answer when swinging doors of the saloon banged open, and the bartender turned to them and said, "There's Ol' Karl now."

***

Bridget felt herself pushed to the floor, and St. Graves opened fire. A blast of sound and a white flash erupted from above, and Bridget caught a glance of something large and pale stumble back in the dark.

A hiss cut through the room.

"Get the stakes!" St. Graves cried, and the thing attacked. A hand-like claw whooshed through air and slapped the pistol out of the old man's hands. Its twin split the shadows and wrapped around his neck, lifting him from the ground.

"No!" Alexandria Knight yelled. A stake rose above her head, and she thrust it down as the thing's long leg kicked out and caught her in the stomach. Alex grunted, fell backward and hit the reading table with the back of her head. The stake dropped uselessly from her grip. She groaned and sagged to the floor.

"You," the thing snarled, pulling the old man closer to its foul head, rotting greenish corpse skin pulled tight over a toothy skull. "I recognize you, vampire hunter."

Bridget reached out in the darkness and found the fallen pistol with her hand.

"You do not comprehend what you've stumbled across," the thing said. "You don't know who are up against! Who resides in the Bloodless. The BRIDE!" And then it laughed- the most horrifying sound Bridget had ever heard. Chills ran goose bumps over her body.

St. Graves, his feet kicking a foot off the ground, could only gargle in his response.

"And you won't even live long enough to appr..."

-BANG!-

The pistol roared in Bridget's hand, and she felt it jump like a live animal as it spat its deadly lead venom. The thing simultaneously dropped St. Graves and shrieked in pain, and then it turned on Bridget, dead eyes gleaming with hate, clawed hands stretching towards her, mouth opening and teeth spreading as it flew at her face.

And then it reared as Alexandria Knight pushed the stake up and through the creature's back, through soft flesh and into its vulnerable heart, splitting it with one mighty thrust.

Black, phlegmy goo erupted from the creature's mouth, specking Bridget's face, and then flames spread from the wound in its chest and engulfed it with an orange blaze.

"Takes more than one pussy kick to put me down," Alex said, standing over the flickering pile of ash that had been the vampire. Bridget gasped on the floor, waited for her heart to slow down and thought that Alexandria Knight looming above her was almost as terrifying as a member of the undead.

***

Julius heard something flutter through his open window, a flap of leathery wings on the crisp night air. A stupid grin pulled his lips over his crooked, coppery teeth. Finally! He had been waiting- he checked his watch- for over four hours now.

Still, it felt fitting for his reward to come flying into his lap at the stroke of midnight. Julius chuckled; he's be STROKED at midnight, all right. He peeled his flab out of his armchair and peered into the shadowy corner of his living room towards where he heard the sound come to a soft stop.

"You there?" he said into the dark.

She stepped into the moonlight, his redheaded goddess, his reward illuminated by the cool blue beams of the midnight hour. Her green eyes glowed with desire.

Or hunger?

"Oh, Christ. You're fuckin' hotter than I hoped for," he said in an awed voice.

"Master tells me I'm her favorite," the woman replied. The words were hypnotic, musical. They filled Julius with a pleasant drunken feeling. The woman stepped towards him, her arms outstretched, her hair blazing around her.

Julius, not known for his subtly, jiggled his way out of his pants and let them fall around his ankles. As he never wore underwear, his short erection prodded his substantial gut and stabbed the night air.

"Come get it, whore," he said, licking his mustard-stained lips.

The goddess responded, flying at him and throwing him onto the floor, old potato chips and porno magazines crackling against Julius' back as he thudded upon them. Her legs knees were at his sides, her hair in his face, and Julius cried out with ecstasy as he felt his penis slide into her tightness.

"Do you like it?" the goddess asked as she began to ride him, her pussy tight and wet around Julius, and Julius deciding he was going to cum now- RIGHT NOW- he just couldn't stand it and this was for him anyway not her and he could cum as quick as he-

"Pig!" the goddess roared and leapt away from him. Julius' cock felt slippery and sticky as it flopped onto his belly. "How dare you consider cumming so soon!"

And then she pulled him up, Julius was standing up, and somehow she was riding him again, horizontally, perpendicular with the ground, her legs wrapped around him, but it seemed impossible, you know, physically, the girl couldn't be that strong, could she?

His mind raced, and she rode away the doubt, her thighs clapping against his thighs, her hot cunt grinding him deep, he wasn't that big but god it felt deep- so deep- so deep and good and he was going to cum now, it was his right, his REWARD-

And the goddess, Rhianna- in reality no goddess whatever the fat slob might think of her, angry that she was nothing but a slave fit only to fuck when her Master told her to fuck, only fit to do the things a common whore would be asked to do, was finally able to get some of her pent up aggression out.

This was her mission: to destroy the fat slob traitor that had given up his friends so he could get off in her in less than two minutes, he was a loser and she was a slave and he was going to use her just to get off in, another man who treated her as a cum receptacle and nothing more and that was just fucking UNACCEPTABLE!

Just as Julius felt his orgasm begin to boil up from his nut sack, the green-eyed red-haired goddess tore open his bouncing belly with her claws.

"What the fuck?" These were Julius' not-so-famous last words. His intestines unraveled before him like uncoiling rope, spooling around his legs like gray-linked sausage and funny that his own guts could make him think of sausage at a time like this...

And when the red-haired goddess began to eat them, yes, that's when the screaming really started.