Twenty-three
Jean Horla and Peter Vardalack ushered the girls into Michael Morpheus’s house and both noticed the girls’ eyes open wide at the size of the place. They could almost see the dollar signs in the women’s expressions as they nudged each other and grinned, as if they’d suddenly won the lottery.
“Babs, why don’t you and Angela go over to the bar and fix us all some drinks,” Jean said. “Peter and I will escort Sally upstairs so she can meet her date for the evening.”
“Sure,” Babs said, smiling widely and pulling on Angela’s arm as she headed for the mahogany bar in the far corner of the living room. Halfway there she slowed and turned, her nose wrinkled. “Hey, what’s that smell?”
Jean waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, Pete and I were trying to barbecue earlier and I’m afraid we burnt the meat a little bit.”
Angela grinned as she grabbed a whiskey bottle from the shelves behind the bar. “Hell, it smells like you set the whole cow on fire.”
Jean pulled the can of air freshener he’d bought earlier out of the sack he was carrying and pitched it to Babs. “Here, spray this around. It’ll get rid of the odor,” and then he put his hand on Sally’s arm and led her toward the stairs.
On the way up, he gave Peter a sideways glance and they both used their minds to command Sally to be calm and to see only a young, handsome man when they got to the bedroom at the top of the stairs.
All expression went out of Sally’s face and she stumbled as her mind shut partially down under the influence of the two vampyres escorting her.
Jean pushed the door to Michael’s bedroom open and pulled Sally inside. Her eyes were hooded and her expression blank as she looked at the ruined wreck lying on the bed in front of her.
“Michael,” Jean said, smiling slyly, “this is Sally.”
Michael stared hungrily at the red-headed, freckle-faced woman with large breasts standing in his doorway. He ran a long pointed tongue over his dry, cracked lips and said in a hoarse voice, “Good evening, Sally. Come over here and sit on the bed beside me.”
As she moved slowly across the room toward him, Michael cut his eyes to Jean and Peter and mentally commanded, “Out, I’ll take it from here.”
Jean and Peter backed out of the room, shutting the door behind them and heading eagerly back down the stairs toward their own prey in the room below.
* * *
When Sally sat gingerly on the side of his bed, her eyes still blank and staring, Michael whispered. “As you can see, Sally, I am at somewhat of a disadvantage.” He held out his blistered, blackened arms and hands. “So, I want you to help me. Take off all your clothes and lie down next to me on the bed.”
Sally stood up and took off her blouse and unzipped the short miniskirt she was wearing and let it drop to the floor.
She was wearing neither a bra nor any panties and stood there naked before Michael for a moment before sliding into the bed and lying next to him.
“Now, put your hand on me while you kiss me,” he commanded.
Sally’s right hand slid down Michael’s belly to his groin and she wrapped her fingers around his rapidly enlarging penis, which was the only part of his body not ravaged by the fire.
As she stroked him into full tumescence, she placed her full, pouting lips on his cracked, bleeding ones and stuck her tongue into his mouth.
Michael moaned, partly from pain and partly from desire, his hips moving in time with her stroking as he bit down on her tongue until he could feel her blood trickling down his throat.
Sally grunted in pain and tried to pull back, but Michael’s fangs grew and he held her fast, their lips locked together as he willed her hand to move faster and faster.
Just as he was about to explode, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her roughly on top of him. Out of long habit, she spread her legs and sat on his groin, groaning as his huge penis impaled her, splitting the tender membranes of her vagina when it entered her.
Her eyes cleared and lost their vacant stare, the pain overriding his mental commands, and she opened her mouth to scream at the sight of the ruined wreck of burnt and blackened flesh beneath her.
Michael sunk his claws into her breasts, pulling her down against him and sank his fangs into her jugular vein just as a terrified howl screamed from her mouth.
Within seconds, the hormones flooding his bloodstream mixed with her blood and she ceased screaming and began to moan and grunt, full with the throes of sexual passion the hormones engendered, the horror in her mind subdued by the chemicals in her veins.
She bucked and humped, grinding her sex against his groin, her hands wrapping themselves around his back as he sucked her blood from her neck and groped her pendulous breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingertips.
With her fresh, young blood coursing into his veins, his body began to melt and change, healing itself automatically while he pumped his groin against hers.
Minutes later, he threw his head back and howled with joy as he exploded inside her, his cries mingling with hers as she came with him . . . for the last time in her life.
* * *
Downstairs, Babs lifted her head up from Jean’s groin and cocked her head. “What was that?” she asked, goose bumps appearing on her naked body at the sound of the horrible scream from upstairs.
Jean grinned as his face began to change, his thin ascetic features becoming coarse and ugly as he began to transform into his vampyre form. “I’d say your friend has just seen the face of her future,” he growled, entwining his claws into her hair and jerking her face down into his lap, forcing his engorged penis into her mouth again.
Babs grunted and tried to lift her head, but he held her tight, his hips bucking against her, burying his penis so deep she gagged on it.
Just before he came, he picked her up off him as if she weighed only a few pounds and flipped her onto her back on the couch.
When she saw what he had become, her face screwed up in terror and she screamed once as he pounced. He buried his face in her neck and began to chew and suck while he forced her legs apart with his knees and rammed into her, splitting her like a log as he impaled her.
Her scream died just moments before she did, and Jean hissed between his fangs as he came into her while he greedily drank the last vestiges of life from her shrunken corpse.
* * *
In the downstairs bedroom, Angela lay reclined against the head of the bed, her legs spread and draped over Peter’s shoulders, and played with her own breasts while Peter lay on his stomach, his face buried in her sex.
Her eyes popped open at the sound of Babs’s scream and she glanced down the bed at Peter. Her mouth opened but no sound could escape her frozen throat when she saw the monster between her legs.
“Uh . . . uh . . .” she grunted, trying to yell as he looked up at her through red, bloodshot eyes, fangs protruding from a face she’d only imagined in her nightmares.
Peter sat up on his haunches, his claws scraping at her nipples and his huge, erect penis throbbing and bobbing at her. He grinned, exposing a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth, red-tinged drool dripping off his monster’s lips.
“Now,” he growled in a deep, husky voice, “It’s party time!”
As she shook her head back and forth and shut her eyes tight, praying she was having some sort of flashback from the LSD she’d taken earlier at the club, he slid his body up hers until the head of his penis was teasing the lips of her sex.
“Are you ready, Angela, dear?” he asked, his voice so deep and gruff she could barely understand it.
“No . . . please, no . . .” she managed to squeeze out of her dry mouth.
“Sorry, wrong answer,” he quipped and jutted his hips forward as he dipped his head to her throat.
Now the scream came, full bodied and wailing as he rammed himself to her hilt and sank his fangs into her neck.
Moments later, she was moving in time with him, sweat pouring from her face, moaning and pulling his hips and trying to pull him deeper inside her as she came and came.
When Peter finally exploded, he grunted with pleasure and sank his fangs deeper into her neck, tearing out chunks of her tender flesh and swallowing them whole, letting her warm, spicy blood spurt into his open mouth until it flowed no longer.