After her car breaks down on a lonely road, Amy wanders into town and finds an old, abandoned farm house. Or so she thinks! Fantasy becomes reality in Fang Banged! WARNING: This mature story contains a lost girl, eight vampires, a lot of rough sex play, biting, light blood play, a whole lot of pale skin and a huge vampiric send-off as the night gives way to dawn. More
Amy’s eyes shot open to a wide open door and a clanging grandfather clock.
“Hello? Hello? Who’s there?” she called into the dark. It was colder in the room than it had been when she fell asleep, and a chill draft blew through the windows that had opened above the couch she slept on.
“Is someone there? Answer me! Please!” she began to sob, despite herself. She had woken up in a nightmare, she repeated in her head. Just a nightmare – and she knew that a nightmare, no matter how terrible, could not hurt her. But, what could hurt her was the six foot marble-skinned man who now stood at the foot of the couch, and stared at her with cold, dead eyes.
“Thank you,” the man said, in a hollow voice. “You’ve awakened us with your... scent.”
His hand shot out and took hers from her crotch in a movement so fast she wasn’t even sure it had happened. His pale pink tongue flicked around and between the two fingers she had been using to pleasure herself when she fell asleep. As he tasted the juice on her, his black eyes flashed, and he parted his lips. Two short, curved fangs jutted out over the top row of his perfect, ivory teeth.
“This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. Please, please don’t...” she started but before she finished her sentence a slender, milky hand caught her around the throat and silenced her.
“We know what you’ve been dreaming about.” He said, his voice beginning to sound warm and inviting. The coldness left his face, and his visage seemed to change as he spoke. “You woke all of us from a hundred years of long, terrible sleep. To repay you, you will get what you want.”
Her eyes scanned the room as the man’s hand was still clamped on her throat. She wasn’t choking, not exactly, but she couldn’t make any sounds. She realized that as terrified as she’d been a few moments before, her pussy was now sopping wet. Eight, maybe nine more slender, lithe, alabaster bodies had emerged from the shadows as she watched. To her surprise, none of them were clothed. They were all slender and very pale. The only differences were in the faces, height and hair color.
“Don’t try to move,” he said, his voice velvet, “it won’t do any good.”