Fifty Shades Of Sparkling Vampires With Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games

Fifty Shades Of Sparkly Vampires With
Dragon Tattoos That Play Starvation Games: A Parody Of A Spoof
Wrapped In A Wet Blanket Of Irreverence

Lacy Maran & Kevin
Michael

To spank or not to spank? That was a
question Nil Moralsson never asked himself. The bad boy loved
smacking some tushy. But when you had enough money to roll around
naked in, you could get away with a lot of weird sexual
kinks.

The decision to give Nil her fanny for
walloping was one Katnella Everswan did not take lightly. After
all, girls didn't dream of brooding manipulative sadists. But who
could pass up a hunky white hot mess of a billionaire? Katnella
went down the checklist in her head. Bad boy? Check. Fixer upper?
Check. Deep buried family dysfunction? Ding ding ding. And from
then on, her rump was in sadistic territory.

So when the two met for an interview,
it was no surprise his dong would win the day. Not to mention the
guy had a trouser snake like an anaconda on steroids. He could
swing from vines with that sucker. Nil smoldered with desire when
he met Katnella. She was a bushy blank slate. Just the kind of
virgin to be swept up by his spoils. Besides, what girl didn't love
a good mansion?

Katnella was immediately fascinated by
the dragon tattoo on Nil's bare chest. And by the way, bravo on
showing up to an interview with pecs in full gear. Swoon! The man
was a G spot goliath. A clit conqueror. And he made Katnella fifty
shades of tickled pink. Bye bye virginity. Nice knowing you. Don't
let the door hit you on the way out.

Damn, torrid passion was the bomb
diggity. Katnella was in erotic ecstasy. Until she woke up from her
dream. That's right, the sweet S&M fantasy was just that--a
fantasy.

Back in reality, imagination was a
dangerous thing when you lived in a post apocalyptic dump. Pangea
was what remained of the scorched Earth. In her mind, Katnella had
kink going in spades, but in truth, she lived in a little shanty
with her little sister Trimgrove Everswan and their
folks.

Anxiety was high with the Starvation
Games gearing up for another round of hormone raging homicide. Yup,
the evil Ruling District liked getting all gladiatorial with it,
Ancient Roman style (orgies sold separately). Every year two poor
schmucks from each region would go apeshit on each other until only
one stood--or limped up--to victory.

Selection day was not kind to the old
Everswan clan. Poor little Trimgrove drew the short straw of
suffering. But in an act of epic nobility--or the biggest brain
fart in history--Katnella volunteered to take her place. Which was
a good thing, because poor little Trimgrove had pooped her pants
just getting selected. Imagine what would have happened if she'd
gone to battle.

Meanwhile Katnella was going to be
joined by Nil Moralsson himself. Unlike Katnella's dream though,
Nil was not a billionaire. Nor did he walk around shirtless with
pecs of sexy steel. Instead, Nil was a baker--yay scones! Hell,
least the guy wouldn't starve out there.

Katnella never gave much thought to why
she had dreams featuring Nil as a bodacious bondage billionaire
before that day. The apocalypse made introspection seem sillier
than skinny dipping with snapping turtles. But maybe the universe
was giving her a wink wink and a naughty nudge. Or maybe Nil was
the only guy in Katnella's village that didn't have a beer gut and
manboobs.

But with the Starvation Games and
brutish death waiting just over the horizon--screw you
horizon--Katnella had to focus on her plan of survival (hint: it
did not involve wet willies). Training was intense. Good thing
Katnella had earned that apocalyptic archery merit badge from
summer camp. While preparing for certain death, Katnella made a pit
stop to befriend Blue, a girl miraculous similar to Katnella's
sister Trimgrove--damn, look at me dropping a metaphor on
you.

Nil meanwhile pulled more than a rabbit
out of his hat (metaphorically speaking--the guys too poor to own a
hat) when he confessed his love for Katnella over live tv. Not only
was Katnella shocked, but she couldn't help but wonder about the
size of his trouser snake. Maybe dreams did come true. By the next
morning, the duo was painted as star crossed schmucks.

With the Starvation Games beginning,
there wasn't time to investigate whether Nil owned a whip, although
one could come in handy both during hanky panky and a duel to the
death. It wasn't long before teens started dropping like flies.
Luckily for Katnella, her competitors were dying by no action of
her own so she didn't have to bother making any morally complex
decisions.

In all the ruckus though, Blue went and
bit the big one. Katnella moped for a while, learning the harsh
lesson that when a society forces children to kill each other like
rabid animals, your new best friend/sister parable might be
sacrificed for the sake of the plot. With Blue's heavy handed death
fresh in her mind, Katnella reluctantly carried on, using her
archery and hunting skills to do everything but actually kill
anyone else.

Soon enough, the Ruling District
decided it would be ok to have two winners from one territory with
the games, so long as those two were the star crossed schmucks (can
you say ratings bonanza?) With the news, Katnella went and tracked
down Nil, only to find him shirtless and wounded in the forest.
Somehow she thought seeing his pecs would have been far more
sexually appetizing.

The real stunner was how Nil was
sparkling, like he'd bought a glitter set and spilled it on
himself. Much to Katnella's surprise though, Nil actually did have
a dragon tattoo though. Nil came clean, revealing he was a century
old Swedish vampire masquerading as a poor bozo. And although Nil
was old enough to be her great great great grand pappy, that didn't
stop desire from biting her naughty bits. Hell, age really was just
a number when you were going to look like a Transylvanian underwear
model for eternity.

Katnella wanted to get freaky deeky
with Nil's weenie, but the middle of a death match was hardly the
place for wanton coitus. Instead she settled for a kiss that made
her tongue explode like fireworks on the fourth of July.
Unfortunately, their make out session was interrupted by a rival
vampire with no regard for tonsil hockey etiquette.

Jerk VonBiteMe didn't like humans and
vampires getting jiggy with it. He didn't think the muff and meat
stick of mixed races should co mingle and was willing to kill for
his beliefs. Luckily Jerk ended up with the pointy end of a stake
through his heart, leaving the new lovers as the two remaining
survivors.

But at the last minute, in a swift
about face, the Ruling District said "just kidding" and pitted Nil
and Katnella against each other for better ratings (hey, those
constipation cream companies won't advertise on just any show). Yet
again proving how allergic to morally complex decisions she was,
Katnella defied the Rulers and said nani nani boo boo and refused
to fight. Instead Katnella pulled out poison for both her and Nil
to swallow. It was either going to be a double suicide or a kinky
victory party for two. Afraid of losing vaunted Denture Cream
advertising sponsors, the Rulers let both Katnella and Nil win--a
decision they'd come to regret when the Rulers got their asses
handed to them in the subsequent revolution.

Once revolutionary fever passed like a
case of bad diarrhea, Katnella, Nil, and oppressed survivors
everywhere were free to carry on their post apocalyptic business.
Luckily for Nil and Katnella, thanks to spearheading the
revolution, they snagged bad ass sponsor money from a few
enterprising Beheading Companies (two for one guillotine's, now
with less clean up than ever).

Finally, the post apocalypse was behind
them and from the rubble of oppressive tyranny, kinky romance could
finally bloom. Flush with cash and newly in love, Katnella and Nil
decided to explore each others glorious genitals. Soon Katnella's
dreams featuring sadism and heiny heroism were coming true, with
mixed delight. It turned out being over a hundred years old and
Swedish made for some twisted dickery.

Nil wasn't interested in just
scrumptious stuffing or delectable dicking. There was more on his
man meat menu than having his trouser snake ridden into the sunset.
Bondage was his best friend. In Nil's mind, sado and masochism took
pleasure cruises in the Caribbean. Whips, paddles, and the
occasional lederhosen were all required.

And while Katnella had no interest in
her butt turning into an all you can paddle buffet, it was
undeniable that Nil had a dong that could ring a gong. The man had
a prowess for pleasuring. He was the duke of deep dicking. A G spot
general. A libido legend. Yup, the coital kitchen was always well
stocked with Nil around.

But between the latex loving and
handcuff hanky panky, something was missing for Katnella. It turned
out she wanted more than an immortal billionaire bad boy that knew
how to sling his schlong around. She wanted romance. Hell, she
would have taken being able to have a male waiter serve her food at
a restaurant without Nil going into an apoplectic fit.

So Katnella probed into Nil's past.
What was the deal with the dragon tattoo? Sure Sweden was butt cold
and shunned sunlight half the year, but not all Swede's treated sex
life like a trip to a dominatrix dungeon, right? Were meatballs
really all Sweden had to offer world cuisine?

Nil was reluctant to answer at
first--especially about the meatballs--but finally came clean. In
the pre apocalyptic days, Moralsson had an abusive childhood that
led to him turning to his libido for comfort in his twenties. But
while he was amidst a boning bonanza, one of his conquests turned
out to be a vampire even more kinky than he could have imagined. It
was the best orgasm he ever had. So mind blowing that Nil woke up
the next morning naked in a gutter with only half his memory,
having been turned into a sparkling vampire forever.

Nil decided to make something of his
life and took up raconteur journalism that eventually teamed him
with a goth-tastic computer hacker. And when he wasn't boning
everyone with ovaries in search of recreating the miracle orgasm,
Nil and the hacker Bisleth Talander investigated a families horrid
history of murder and sexual abuse. The mohawk sporting hacker had
a long family history of dysfunction and poor fashion choices. Over
the years, the duo fought evil and predatory forces while Nil slung
his dick around as much as possible.

Finally when the last lowlife gave up
on barbecuing the duo, Bisleth and Nil reunited with lust in their
loins. But while Nil would live forever, Bisleth was very mortal
with the wounds to prove it. She also wasn't interested in giving
her tortured soul a spin through eternity, no matter how well hung
the old hunkmeister was.

Years later, when Bisleth died of
natural causes, Nil was crushed. He got a dragon tattoo in her
honor. But that wasn't enough. So he turned to a shrink to screw
his head back on straight. But by strange twist of fate, Nil had
written the therapists office down wrong and stumbled into an
S&M parlor. Nil had been chasing heiny's with whips ever
since.

After hearing that explanation, only
two thoughts went through Katnella's head. One--Nil could find her
clit in the dark, so why couldn't he find a therapists office with
a map? And two--damn those Swedes were nut jobs. But while Katnella
finally had answers, she still questioned how long she could be
with a man that thought hand cuffs and spatulas belonged in the
bedroom.

About that time, a newcomer sprung on
to the scene. A werewolf. His name was Rakub, although Katnella
preferred to call him Hunky McSixPack. He had his shirt off so much
you'd think he was deathly allergic to cotton. And he had his
sights set on robust romance. Even a box of silver bullets would
have trouble keeping Rakub from humping Katnella's leg.

So Katnella threw down the gauntlet. If
Nil wasn't going to change his hanky spanky ways, Katnella would
leave him hand cuffed to the bed post to cavort with the wolf and
his bad ass doggy styling skills. Nil had never considered the
possibility that some women might not be wildly aroused by whips
and emotional detachment. It was a foreign concept that chivalry
was about more than lancing a lot. That passion had a bigger part
in a woman's heart than a paddle.

But with the wolf howling at the moon
in her honor and adopting a highway in her name, the flirt fest was
on. Hell, if Rakub registered a star for Katnella and took her
miniature golfing, Nil might just lose her heart forever. So Nil
did the unthinkable. He packed the whips, chains, and handcuffs
away, then went to the therapy appointment only sixty years late.
And amazingly enough, he didn't pork the shrink while he was
there.