Nasty Vampire Nun (2 page)

“Drink,” she said. “Drink and be merry.”

I couldn't control myself. I flung my face into her cunt, slurping and moaning, gasping for air. She groaned in delight, raising her left leg and resting it on my shoulder, allowing me easy access. One hand massaging her ass, I licked the first two fingers of my other hand and eased them into her pussy, rubbing the G-spot. I did it quickly as if my life depended on it. I stared back up at her, my heart racing.

“Is this good? Is this what you want?”

Her body shook.

“Faster, please,” she said, eyes rolling back. “Shit....I'm gonna cum....Don't stop....”

She writhed around like a snake, bouncing on my fingers as cum gushed down my arm and dripped off my elbow. The vampire fell over me, and we both rolled around on the bed, hugging each other, kissing with tongue like porn stars: slobbering with passion. She rolled on top of me.

“My name is Rose,” she said. “I am your queen.”

She opened her mouth wide and hissed, those fangs growing long. I smiled.

“Yesss,” I said. “Free meeee....”

I closed my eyes as she bit into my neck – as all those red sheets danced around the bed and I convulsed with heavenly delight, my limbs thrashing.

LATER

First, I went to see Joe. When I saw that he wasn't home, I went to Mike's trailer home and looked into the bedroom window. He was fucking that bitch of a wife, Elsa, on her back as she constantly demanded that he fuck her harder until she bled. He looked horrified, which is understandable.

“Get on the ground, pig,” Elsa said.

He obeyed, pouting, and I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
He got on his hands and knees. She stood behind him, sticking a long, scary, wobbly, purple dildo up his ass – slowly as she grinned and pulled back on his hair. The wobbly toy was covered in bumps. Mike moaned in pain, crying, but also grinning for some reason. Elsa seemed to get off on it. I could tell because her pussy was salivating. He begged her to stop (was it a trick?), but that only made her work faster. I saw enough. I took a few steps back and ran through the window. They screamed with their hands over their faces.

First thing's first: Kill the bitch.

I ripped her breasts away and shoved them down her throat. My arms folded across my chest, I watched, laughing – HA! HA! HA! – as she danced around like an idiot, banging into things with her hands clawing at her throat. This went on for awhile. Eventually, she stumbled out the door and vanished somewhere, surely to die. As for Mike...I jumped on him and ripped his face off, slowly, like I was taking off a band-aid...and then I pulled out his guts and played jump rope while he watched. I think he died.

Whatever.

Early morning.

The sun peeked over the treeline. Naked, I walked into the church. The nuns gasped and waved their fingers, many nuns screaming for me to get out.

“Quick!” someone said. “Cover her up before normal people see her!”

The youngest nun – Sarah, in her mid thirties – ran up and tried to throw a blanket over me. I held onto her head and showed her my fangs. She screamed bloody murder as I dove into her neck. She was good – tasted like pancakes. One of the older nuns came at me with a sharpened cross. I hit it away and bit into her, too. She didn't taste so good – reminded me of old socks. I closed the front double doors, locked them, and proceeded to “turn” all the other nuns. All twenty of them.

When night came, we all went out into town for dinner. The nuns decided to be clothed in classic attire, but I chose to go in the nude. We strolled down the middle of the street like we owned the world. Cars swerved past and crashed into stores. Shoppers ran off, hooting. Well,
tried
to. We were on all of them like vultures. For a good fifteen minutes, we ran around sucking all the necks we could. Like coyotes hunting rabbits. Ha, ha! One of my nuns feasted on a severed shocked-head.

“Humans,” she grinned. “Such easy prey – all of them.”

And then she proceeded to french kiss the head. We all laughed. It was an easy night to kill people. Or so we thought....

Three pick up trucks pulled up to a screeching halt: Joe and his hillbilly friends.

They jumped out weeping and hollering, aiming their shotguns in our general direction.

“I can't do it,” said one of Joe's pals. “I can't shoot nuns. I'll go to Hell!”

In fact,
none
of them could. I pointed at Joe.

“You mother fucker!”

He dropped to his knees, crying when he saw me. They
all
cried. I laughed.

“Chicken shit cowards! I love it!”

I made a forward motion with both hands, and my nuns attacked, jumping all over them. I stood there and watched proudly with my arms folded across my exposed breasts. To my surprise – and amusement – Joe broke free, running into the truck.

“Interesting...” I said, an eyebrow raised, watching as Joe started the truck and ran over a couple nuns (and his pals) and came right at me. He did a battle cry as he shoved his foot on the gas. I jumped into the air and crashed through the windshield, trying to get my mouth on his throat. The truck crashed into a costume store, and I flew out of the truck, onto a mannequin dressed like an Eskimo....

When I rolled over, I was staring into the barrel of a shotgun. Joe had his finger on the trigger. He was crying.

“Goodbye,” he cooed.

Joe made an expression of petulant annoyance. Next thing I knew, his head was ripped off and tossed away. I ran off as his body stumbled around, confused, the shotgun going off and blasting away his feet, resulting in an applause of blood and bone. The body fell over, dead. I hugged my savior – Rose. We walked out of the store, onto the street, into the chaos: vehicles on fire and overturned, humans running around screeching while pulling out their hair. A speeding car lost control and hit a fire hydrant. A fountain of water licked the sky, washing away the gore on the street. Rose smiled at me.

“What a beautiful night,” she said.

Much laughter got my attention. The nuns were lying on the wet street and fondling each other, kissing in that passionate, sloppy way that I liked so much. Rose and I walked over and joined them...making our way to the center of the orgy. We sat on our butts and, giggling, intertwined our legs...rubbing our pussies together until they were wet. My clit was engorged, throbbing. Her cunt felt so fucking good grinding against mine. We held hands as we got more aggressive, pulling, yanking ourselves closer for more pressure. I felt my belly turning: The cum was building up. We fucked harder, faster....I cried tears of joy – banging my cunt into hers – staring at her with lust in my wide eyes as I snarled, “Fuck me, bitch! Make me cum! Fuck my brains out! Fuck me harder! HARDER!”

I reached out and grabbed a handful of her bouncing tit. The other nuns sat around us in a circle, masturbating, staring, drooling. We fucked away, moaning to the point of screaming as our pussies slapped wetly against each other. My mind snapped.

“I can't take it anymore!”

I got to my feet and stood over Rose. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, tongue out and flicking air. Snarling, I rubbed my clit furiously and blasted cum onto her unblinking eyes and into her mouth, hitting the tonsils. The surrounding vampire nuns shut their eyes and shrieked in rising unison as they all came together – a symphony of musical pleasure. I got down on my knees and hugged Rose, melting in her loving embrace as department stores exploded all around us...fires raging.

It didn't bother us.

It was romantic.

TEN YEARS LATER

10:33pm.

The FBI agent drove into the ghost town. The state had plans to bulldoze everything and in its place build a pineapple factory, so she had to work fast. No one ever figured out what happened to the town, but she was determined – motivated by fame – to solve the mystery. It would shut her parents up, that was for damn sure.

“You're not doing anything with your life,” they always said. “You'll never amount to anything,” they always said.

Such bullshit! Were they nuts? She worked her way up to become an FBI agent. Wasn't that impressive enough? Something to be proud of? Nope. Mommy and Daddy wanted her to take over the family bakery business. Do as your parents say; never mind what you want. Honor thy father and mother. Fuck that jazz. No way in Hell was she going to spend her years baking. No way in Hell....

Why couldn't they just love her unconditionally? To love her no matter what choice she made? Maybe she should just kill herself –
that
would show them. Stacy felt the tears coming again. She fought them off.

“Stay strong,” she said to her reflection in the rear-view mirror. “You cry; they win.”

She pulled her car over and got out, leaving the headlights on, and looked around. A long time ago, something very bad happened to the town. Everyone died. Got torn up real good. Body parts everywhere. It was a horrific scene, indeed. What had happened? The mystery tickled everyone for years. Rumors spread, calling the place haunted.
Ghosts
, they all whispered. It got everyone spooked. Not even vandals dared to visit. In fact, as she drove into town, someone had put up a big, old sign long ago that read “Do not enter. Dead things here.” She laughed at it and kept driving.

Stacy walked down the street. All the shops were halfway burned down, all the windows busted.

In one store was a dusty mannequin dressed like an Eskimo. Bored, she picked it up and cleaned it up a bit, standing it up straight.

“So, stranger,” she smiled. “How's about you tell me what happened here all those years ago, eh?”

The Eskimo kept quiet, staring past her, off into the distance. Stacy laughed.
Look at me. Trying to strike up a conversation with a mannequin. Damn, this town is getting to me.
 

Something in the Eskimo's eyes moved.

Stacy turned around, hand on her gun.

A tumbleweed rolled by.

“Shit,” she exhaled, relaxing a bit. “I'm getting freaked out. Not to mention I'm talking to myself.”

And then she felt the eyes on her.

She gazed at a store called Milk's Toys, searching for a face to call out. Someone was staring at her, she just knew it. Her instincts never lied. Her heart raced. She could hear a sound in there, like feet walking on glass, or ice cracking. She took a step toward the store, peering in. Something was in there alright, in the dark, moving around. Stacy pulled out her gun.

“Hello?”

The shadow flew out and tackled her to the ground. Stacy was staring up at the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen.

“My name is Megan,” said the stranger. “I know how hateful life can be – that it feels like the world is against you. I can make you stronger. No one will push you around ever again. Are you interested?”

The End

Check out this bonus sample from

Vampire Pleasure Train
 

Warning:
This short story contains explicit scenes of sensual activity involving women and vampires on a train. The characters in this story are over 18. For adult readers only. May induce disturbing dreams if read before bedtime. 

The train ran into the tunnel as Kelly snaked her hand up my red shirt and cupped the underside of my breast. The tunnel filled our room with a laborious moan. Kelly licked my lips open and slithered her tongue into my mouth, pushing me against the noisy window. I shut my eyes and crawled my fingers through her hair.

“Kelly,” I groaned, “I love you. I love you so much.”

French kissing me, she pulled up my shirt and slid her hand down my belly, into my panties. She didn't pleasure me yet. As always, she wanted to torture me first. I gave a little laugh. Kelly smiled.

“I can smell you.”

Moonlight hit us as the train speed out into the countryside. Her eyes locked on mine, Kelly played with the puff of pubic hair, our bodies moving up and down. She put two fingers into me. I moaned and grabbed the back of her head...as I raised my leg to give her easy access. She dug in deeper, kissed me – her tongue eager as her fingers. Our mouths were passionate and sloppy; drool dangled from our chins. Kelly's lip gloss made her spit smell like lemons. Her touch was expert. Jolts of pleasure turned my body to mush. My mind sighed. I was gone again, flying in that heavenly place of sexual calm and white noise. That's when the voice came....

Beth,
it whispered over the clouds,
I'm watching you. I'm touching myself.
 

It was a woman. I shut my eyes tighter, as if that would somehow choke the voice away. It only made her louder.

I want you. Come to me. Cum
for
me.
 

Was it my own thoughts? Was I losing my mind?

“Shit,” I said. “You're making me crazy.”

Kelly rubbed faster, tonguing my neck, her other hand squeezing my sweaty tit over and over, admiring its weight. I felt that familiar thunder in my belly rising. I spoke through clenched teeth, not even realizing what I was saying.

“God... I'm cumming... Don't stop...”

After what seemed like an eternity of holding back, Kelly finally rubbed my clit in that special way – a series of quick, moist, fleshy
clicks
. Hot lightning ran throughout my extremities. My legs gave out. Kelly held me up, her fingers still busy. My eyes rolled back into my brain. I was convulsing – shock waves of energy tickling my nerves – my nostrils flaring, my mouth open and dripping, my arms limp and flopping around. I must've looked retarded. 

And then...the ride ended. Kelly let me fall away from the window, onto the bed of pink and white pillows. She whispered into my ear:

“I'm not done yet.”

Exhausted, I had my hand on my forehead, still trying to come to my senses.

“What?”

She grinned.

“I didn't go yet.”

Kelly took off her clothes and got into bed with me, her large breasts swinging. She pulled off my jeans as I took off my shirt. The small fan on the desk cooled my sweat. I raised my arms up and stretched and smiled.