Vamp Slay Me (MFM Vampire BDSM)

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Hello!

The vampires of Eletain obtain their power by promising half of their souls to the Primordial God of Pain- a creature who rules over his very own Hell in the deep, dark depths of the strange-realms. The benefit to those who choose a life of vampirism- a life of
condemning half of their soul to perpetual torture- is that they become incredibly powerful creatures indeed, who feed off the orgasms of mortals to sustain themselves.

For those who can stand
the constant torture- the life of wild, insane fucking is worth the price.

For those who can’t-
insanity is always an option.

The vampires
’ alignment with one of the stranger Primordial Gods means that they have very little favour amongst the regular Gods of the world, and their further affiliation with nasty, dirty sex puts them particularly at odds with Lustainia, the Goddess of Chastity. This is a mutual hatred- one that she has exaggerated by bestowing favour upon those who slay the filthy bloodsuckers in her name.

She has even been known to gift her vampire slayers with magical items- particularly a silver sword capable of reflecting a vampire’s glamouring magic, and a cloak of invisibility.
There’s even talk of a magical sceptre which allows a slayer to control a vampire completely...

At least that’s what the other vampire slayer told her, shortly before she killed
him and stole his blessed items.

Because Cremona isn’t that kind of ‘slayer.’

Cremona is a woman who likes to find ingenious ways of forcing vampires into having sex with her- despite the fact that most vampires would happily just screw her of their own volition, where she to simply proposition them.

Cremona can’t get off that way though, and the fact that her elaborate schemes occasionally end with vampires being accidentally slain means that she is seen as
being something of a nuisance in the community, albeit an incredibly hot and fuckable one.

What she has planned tonight will be the biggest, fattest pay-off of all
though. To fuck with a Vampire Lord and the Goddess of Chastity in one lay?

Fuck yeah.

Fuck.

Yeah.

“Turn around and drop ‘em down dick bags, this is a fuckery!” she shouts, as she whips the cloak of invisibility off herself and throws it to the ground, revealing the athletic and barely-clad glory of the woman in person.

“Sloppy, Cremona,” a louche and half-naked bodyguard says, as he lazily picks himself up from the fainting couch he was spread across and clicks his shoulder blades
together- rocked and ready to rumble. “Very sloppy.”

He does t
ake time to admire her though- especially her short, leather dress with the big, red-edged slit in it’s middle- her hot tits barely contained- the press of the tight clothing making them look firm and ripe. She winks at him as he comes at her, her tongue sticking out lasciviously, and her jet-black bob swaying round the tricksy, braggart-beauty of her face.

“Not as sloppy as you’re gonna be when I’m done with you,” she says, a glint in her eye
which catches on the edge of her blade.

The room they are in is the antechamber outside the Lord’s chamber.
The stonewalls are liquid black, the air is dank, and the two vampires stalking towards her are half-naked, hungry, and horny. The first is smiling, as he creeps down the edge of the book case- his thoughts on the price on Cremona’s head-

-50,000 MARKS-

-
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE-

Cremona admires the man’s immaculate body- from his deathly white skin, to his mountainous muscles, to his flowing, black hair, to his knife-wound smile.

The second vampire- the lounger- looks more concerned about Cremona’s sudden appearance, having
dealt with her many times before and still never having come out on top.

Well, not figuratively on top anyway.

“You look good, Vincent. You’ve barely aged a day!” she says, reviving the old joke and making the eternal being roll his eyes.

She takes in his good looks- from the devious yet wary smile of his hunter’s face to his slender yet muscular frame.

“You should try the undeath yourself, woman,” he says.

“Not really my style,” Cremona
replies, as she continues to back away, the two men admiring her big, full tits pushing through the slit running down her dress.

“Perhaps just death then?” Vincent suggests.

“Are you two going to try and glamour me, or am I just going to have to fuck myself?” she asks, licking her lips and holding the butt of her sword up to the hem of her short dress, pushing it up to her pussy and bristling as she feels the bluntness of it touching her.

Vincent, having dealt with her before, realises that doing what she suggests will undoubtedly be a trap.

The more callow vampire, however, opens his eyes wide to glamour her- the two little spheres turning bright red and burning like dirty oil.

“No!” Vincent shouts.

But it’s too late, as Cremona holds her sword up, and suddenly the invisible magic of the glamour spell becomes something fluid and purple in the air, something which she is able to pull from him with a flick of her sword, and then hurl towards the screaming Vincent with a further muscular swipe.

The vampire attempts to dodge out of the w
ay of the spell, but now that the magic has a target it seems to have a mind of its own, and eventually it pins him down and envelopes him.

“Vincent, come over here and stick your big dirty stake in me!” Cremona shouts- the dazed-looking vampire quickly following her command.

“What? But it was my spell!” the other vampire complains.

“The spell just puts people in a suggestible state,” Cremona says, as Vincent reaches her and suddenly has his hands all over her, pushing her up against the cold, black wall and squeezing at her tits and arse with his strong, muscular hands.

“Once someone is in the state, they just respond to whoever commands them first. Don’t you even know how your own magic works?” she gasps, as Vincent works is mouth over her neck, allowing his fangs to lightly graze her skin.

“I know how my own hands work!
When they’re... by squeezing... by wrapping round your neck and throttling you!”

“Smooth
, fucker,” Cremona says, liking her lips for the taste of anticipation as she feels something hardening in the glamoured man’s trousers.

“Not as smooth
... as your... face is going to be... after I kill it!” he shouts, before charging.

“Vincent,” she says, sweetly. “Restrain your friend.”

“Wha-” the running vampire manages to say, just before his throat is gripped by the much older and stronger Vincent.

“What’s your friend’s name, Vincent?” Cremona asks.

“Kultor,” Vincent answers- without removing his mouth from her neck, his gripping arm sticking out rigidly behind him.

“Hello, Kultor. You might have heard of me? My name’s Cremona, and I’m crazier than a rat in a wasps’ nest,” she explains, as she writhes and shivers beneath Vincent’s cold grip- the vampire running his hands all over her body
then into the toned-tangle of muscles in her thighs.

“Gahkay,” Kultor manages to gasp through his blocked windpipe.

“Now what’s going to- HAPPEN,” she moans, her voice going up on the last word, as she feels Vincent’s hand brush against her pussy through the thin, black silk of her panties. “Is that you’re going to let go, and then you’re going to do exactly as you’re- COMMANDED,” she explains, her voice once more going up as his hand makes a second contact with her cunt.

“Yahwahmatooglamamasaw?” Kultor asks.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Cremona purrs, as Vincent’s long, black tongue works its sensual magic all over her. “I don’t need you to be glamoured. I just need you to know that, should you do anything to harm me, Vincent here will tear you limb from fucking limb,” she finishes, her voice dropping into something low and menacing at the end of the threat.

“Gihsee,” Kultor says, dejectedly.

“Probably, what you’re going to want to ask- what they always want to know- is why don’t I just
ask
you to fuck me? I mean, you vampires like to fuck, and I’ve got an arse and rack to un-die for- so why don’t I just fucking
ask
!?” she says to him, starting to look more and more manic with each word, which is possibly caused by what Vincent’s doing to her- his hands gripping her thighs as her dress rides up and shows off the lacy, black cage of her underwear.

“Ghotooyoowahmatosah?” Kultor asks.

“The exact, fucking opposite of that,” she growls. “Now release him, Vincent. And if he kills me, tear his head off and fuck him in the stump.”

The throttled vampire was actually starting t
o look severely oxygen starved, despite the fact that his kind can actually survive without air. The bodies of most vampires never adjust to the undeath though, and continue to function as if they were mortal.

“Nice,” Kultor says, smiling. “But why didn’t you just ask me to fuck
you?” he asks, grinning a devilish grin.

“
Strike him, Vincent!” Cremona commands, the vampire obeying her instantly, knocking Keltor to the ground.

He’s still smiling though, obviously getting off on this somewhat.

“Say it,” Cremona says, as she feels Vincent wrapping his fingers round the thin, silk strands of her underwear- his knuckles pressing into the hungry flesh of her thighs.

“You’re a fucking pig,” Keltor growls, as he slowly gets up to his feet, his dick growing hard as he stares at how all over her Vincent is, his tongue lashing her neck and his still-sheathed cock pressing into her pussy.

“You want me!” Cremona growls at him, her eyelids fluttering with the thought of what’s coming, as she imagines the fat heft of his cock inside of her. “You all fucking want me!”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if my cock was on fire, and I needed someplace wet to put it out in!”

“Oh, you’ll fuck me alright!” she screams, the aching desire for Vincent to be fucking her becoming too much- her cunt growing moister and moister as his cock grows harder and harder. “You’ll fuck me till it falls off, you blood-sucking fuck-bag!”