Vamp Slay Me (MFM Vampire BDSM)

Vamp Slay Me (MFM Vampire BDSM) by Elmore DeVille Read Free Book Online

Book: Vamp Slay Me (MFM Vampire BDSM) by Elmore DeVille Read Free Book Online
Authors: Elmore DeVille
Protected by the Goddess of Chastity’s blessings, a vampire slayer named Cremona slinks her way through a crowded castle.
    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

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