Sex, Violence, & Vampires Ch. 01

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Vampires have sex while trouble brews.
3.1k words
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Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/18/2002
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A cigarette hanged from between the thin lips of the boy called Hate. Those glowing embers did nothing to light the room, and the glow only partially illuminated his sharp, hawk-like face.

His dark brown eyes scanned the room slowly, and a small smile raised on the corner of his lips. Though the room was hardly lit at all, he could see it perfectly. Just chalk it up as another aspect of Hate's amazing and awesome supernatural power.

The room reeked of sex and death. The sex was not Hate's work, but oh, the death was. And although Hate enjoyed sex, his true love, his true passion was death. Causing it, of course, but also drawing himself into environments where he might one day experience it.

That was where he believed his life had led. Commanding such power at his fingertips had lead him to believe he was invincible, and it was nearly true. Hate was a king, and the entire world was his domain. His atrocities against humanity gave him moments of pleasure in a lifetime of self-inflicted suffering.

There was more to it then just that, though. He was making waves. Small ripples created in the world by the mayhem Hate caused would eventually bring him to the attention of someone powerful.

And that was what he wanted, really. A climatic battle to end his life or the life of the "hero" he knew must exist to oppose him. Either way it would be something interesting, something new.

He reached up, taking the edge of his cigarette between two fingers and flicking it forward. It landed in a pool of blood and fizzled out. That small source of light faded from the room, and with it went Hate.

Notch up another two kills on the proverbial belt, he thought to himself as he faded from this room and to some other destination, in what his mind vaguely registered as shadowrealm. Something would happen soon, he could feel it. If it didn't, at least he had made some more memories, and the night was still young. More memories would grow for Hate, and more lives would end or be destroyed in some other way.

Evil was on the prowl.

* * * * *

Day had some to Southton, and Hate slept. Other things slept in the daytime also. Jack and his men had slunk back to their graves, and were now all safely laying deep down in their coffins, six feet deep or more.

Southton was an interesting place, to say the least. Something there acted like a beacon to the unnatural and the supernatural, and whether they knew it or not, many were slowly attracted here.

The incoming Hate was a rarity, but vampires had existed here nearly since the towns founding. Jack and his coterie where just the latest in a long line of immortals to take control of the city, at least the supernatural part of it.

Of course, by controlling the supernatural, one also gained a bit of control over the city itself, for by now it had become intertwined, though your average citizen knew nothing about it, accept for an occasional feeling the something just wasn't right.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared from the cemetery grounds, a low rumbling took place in the Earth beneath. A bird would cock it's head in that direction, and a few others, more near to the graves, would burst into flight for a more stable area. Moments after the noise had, a human hand was seen to punch through the ground, just before a marker engraved with the name "Drake - 1979-1998." Another came after it, and a body was slowly being pulled upwards from the ground.

All around this center tomb the event was being mirrored, and five other sets of hands burst free, pulling themselves from the ground. This was a nightly event, and it never changed, for even though they were possessed with an amazing power, the vampires of Southton had to dig themselves up from their eternal resting places every evening.

The reason for this was unknown to both Jack and his men, as it was to those who had come before them, and presumably all the way back to whoever, or whatever had started their species.

In any case, it had long ceased to interest the undead. Though they had only been dead for four years, they were mostly uninterested in the reasons for their condition, and instead sought to enjoy it and do their duty.

As usual, Jack was the first to drag himself up from the cold ground, already leaning back against his grave stone and dusting the dirt from his clothing, a pair of jeans a t-shirt he had been wearing for a week. They were not dirty though. All things sprung from the grave anew, they had found, whether it was direly wounded flesh or the light cloth that covered it.

Tongue slowly pushed it's way out from his lips, a slow smile raising upon them as they were licked. Elbows placed on his grave stone, head tilted back slightly to look at the evening sky, the last rays of the sun having already disappeared from this part of Earth. "Another day, another dollar," he muttered to himself, although it was not day, and it was doubtful if a dollar would be earned.

Another burst of dirt came from the ground next to him, followed by several more, and soon five more bodies were tearing up from the dirt into the warm Summer air. Dark brown gaze move to the scenes of nightly rebirth, smile growing as his friends, and a lover, joined him.

Angela raised from the ground and came into a standing position next to Jack, her small, angular face tilted slightly towards him, rose-colored lips and pale complexion set in a look of question, as always. Jack knew, as he always did, what the question was, and so he answered, bringing his lips to her's and pressing them gently together.

Her small breasts raised up in a pleased sigh and long fingered hands daintily raised upward to him, resting just barely on bare arms. Jack slowly pulled back with a grin over his face, watching his angelic Angela, ivory face portraited by thin lines of near-white blonde hair.

"My love," he said softly, and there was no more, for he found all he needed to say in those simple words. Her firm chin rose in acknowledgment of his sentiment, and rather then speak the words herself, she stepped into his arms, head resting against lean chest, her arms dropping from his and closing around his waist.

Not every awakening was quite so beautiful. Four graves were opening now at almost the exact same time, though very different people crawled out from them.

From the grave furthest back came Tom, a short vampire who unlike most of his compatriots in the world was a bit fat, though to his credit, at his death his arms were well muscled and his body had began to slender.

On either side and in front of Tom came the twins, Michael and Gabriel, named for angels and in many aspects living up to the legends, finely sculptured features on pale faces, thin blonde hair falling around Gabriel's face, Michael's locks pulled into a pony tail that rested idly on one shoulder. They looked a bit like Angela, and she was their slightly younger sister, born a year behind.

And then from a grave in the center of them all, with a slight pause for a dramatic entrance, came Khala. She did not crawl from the ground so much as she floated from it, expending a small amount of that unnatural power they all claimed all in the name of effect.

She was beautiful, but not in the manner of Angela. No, her's was a more volatile and obvious attraction, a glimpse of her causing an immediate raise of lust in the hearts of any who looked to her. And just as Angela was Jack's, she was the other dead boy's love, and they were her's. The love and lust shared between them a pure and odd thing, no selfishness in sharing between one another, though they would be reviled at the thought of adding another to their group dynamic. Emotionally, at least.

As was said, Khala was a beauty. Unlike the thin, sharp features of Angela, Khala was more soft and cute, with full, dark lips, a tan complexion, and midnight black hair worn to her shoulders. Emerald green eyes peered out with amusement at her three most important companions, the twins and Tom, who were all dressed in the same apparel as Jack, t-shirts and jeans.

She was dressed less conservatively. She wore the sheerest of gowns to sleep, a flimsy garment made of a thin fabric, the outlines of her firm, rounded breasts very evident, the tightened tips of her areolas making clear points. The gown was raised slightly from her flat stomach, but again touched flesh between the desired area between her thighs, the dark patch of trimmed pubic hair visible as well.

Immediately her wrists were grasped by Mike and Gabe who flanked her at either side, brought to their hungry mouths were elongated canines pierced flesh with a pleasurable ease, her blood being brought to their lapping tongues.

Her head tilted back slightly and lips parted in the softest of moans, and now Tom stepped behind her, his hands pressing gently against her belly, but moving up rather quickly to the bottom curves of her breasts, finger-tips creeping up until he cupped them completely, squeezing firmly as he brought his own mouth to Khala's neck,

"Mmgood," Khala whispered as three sets of mouths sucked her essence so pleasantly, her hips beginning to writhe in slow, subtle circles. More hands moved to her, the twins, each lifting the bottom of her gown, grasping palms moving along the smooth, dark flesh of her thighs, until they both teased the moistening lips between them.

Jack's arms had crossed firmly over his lean chest, looking at the foursome with a bit of annoyance in dark brown eyes. Lips had opened just barely to chastise them, but Angela lifted one delicate finger and placed it on his lips. "Let them, my love. Bad times are coming, I think. Let them enjoy the peace."

Jack gave her a questioning look. "If bad times are coming, babe, then we need to prepare, not screw each other on graves like a bunch of vampire-wannabes. We're real vampires, damnit!"

A short, musical giggle passed her lips. She took a step back from Jack and hopped up slightly on someone else's tombstone, her small frame easily supported. Lily white legs spread wide open in front of her lover, the flower-print skirt that had covered her lower extremities revealing the smooth slit of her sex. "You don't want to screw me on a grave?" She asked sweetly, head tilting slightly, those pale sky colored eyes giving him that questionable glance.

Jack sighed. It was hard to give a good example to his little crew when he behaved almost as badly as them, but this was an offer few could refuse, least of all him. He nodded, and raised a hand to run back through earthen colored hair, closing the distance between them as his fingers opened up his belt and began to unzip.

He was before her now, his member sprung to life in his own hand, the thick curve of it leading up to her pussy, his throbbing head pressing just barely against her. He rubbed it against her lips, and her head tilted back, bottom lip bit firmly, her hand sliding down and fingers closing around his member. "I love you," she said.

A few feet away things were progressing nicely, as they always did, unless Jack intervened. Positions of the boy's changed, but for Khala, it was the same, and she could say she never tired of it. Later in the evening her body might be twisted and turned in a variety of ways, but for the first time of the night, she enjoyed the predictability.

"Ohhhhh," she simply stated as her body slowly impaled itself on Tom's rigid cock. Her pussy engulfed his swollen shaft inch by inch, soaking wet now, and nicely tight around his tool. Her eyes had shut as she just enjoyed the sensation of pleasure running through her, and then abruptly opened as Mike's member smacked her deliberately hard across the face.

"Suck it," he requested.

"Uh huh," she obliged breathlessly, full, soft lips closing around the mushroom cock-head placed in front of her. Firmed tongue ran circles around it as her mouth filled with saliva, sucking tightly on him. He shut his eyes now and let out his own moan, hand placing softly atop her head.

Khala's hips finally lowered completely on Tom's dick, and she held herself there, enjoying the feeling of being filled up with thick meat in her cunt, and savoring the taste of the cock just barely penetrating her lips.

Two palms smacked firmly on her ass, causing her head to jump slightly, several more inches of Mike's cock pushing between grasping lips. Her cheeks were being spread, and then she felt her final lover's cock push against her. It was slicked up by something and was now pressing rather brutally against her ass.

She wiggled it in anticipation and Gabriel was happy to give her what she wanted. The most brutal of the three, he wasted no time in slamming his cock into her ass, filling her up the entire way.

A muffled scream of painful pleasure filled Khala's mouth, vibrating the member lodged in her mouth. It was all Michael could take. Hand's grasped the sides of her head and he pumped his cock into her sucking mouth, riding her face now.

From beneath her Tom began a slow rise and fall, her hips lifting along with his as his shaft was thrust further inside her tightened walls. Her body relaxed, and she simply allowed herself to be fucked by the three men, bolts of pleasure traveling from all over her body towards her brain. Soon the groans of the four filled the relative silence of the graveyard; the hot sucking noises of Khala's mouth, the firm, regular slapping of Tom's body against hers, and the aggravated grunts and slams from Gabriel's back-door assault.

Ahead of them Jack had entered the warm cavern of Angela's sex. Thick, curved member was continually thrusting into her, and the pace which had begun slow and steady was still steady, but becoming more and more rapid.

Thin, milky white legs were wrapped around Jack's bare waist, his jeans now bunched around his ankles, shirt raised up slightly. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, growing ever closer to the impending explosion of pleasure. Angela's head was pressed into his shoulder, teeth biting at his collar-bone through his clothing. Her own shirt had been pulled up hastily, one small tit squeezed tightly in his hand. From between his fingers her breast was exposed, the soft flesh squeezed red by the pressure, her nipple rubbing into his palm.

Everything was so perfect for Jack at this very moment. Then something changed. Though his eyes were closed he was suddenly granted vision, but he knew at once it was not his own.

He was witnessing a sex-scene very different from the one he was currently enjoying, different still from the one the rest of his coterie was enjoying a few feet away. Sweat was pouring from this body, and pouring as well from the girl bent over a toilet before it.

He noticed the details about the girl first. Dirty blonde hair was grasped tightly by the other's hand, her neck pulled back at an extreme angle, but she seemed to be enjoying it, encouraging, nasty shouts pouring from her unseen lips.

She still wore her shirt, tight over full-figured form, one nicely wide hip clutched in the other hand of whomever's eyes it was Jack was seeing through.

"Fuck!" Jack cried out and heard as two mutual orgasms begun. Jack felt Angela's pussy tighten around him and her hips raise off the tombstone as she came as well, his thick seed pumping into her belly. He watched as the girl in his vision twisted and slammed her cunt back on the invading cock.

And then something completely unexpected happened. As his cock continued to spasm inside Angela's wonderfully enclosing walls, the vision girl's head was snapped forward, her nose busting open on the top of the toilet, splattering blood over the white porcelain.

Just as his own orgasm finally wound down, the girl slumped to the ground before the toilet. She was still breathing, Jack noted dully, and the vision began to fade. The last thing Jack saw was a mirror, and the reflection of the man whom he was linked with. Black hair, a thin, grinning smile, and impossibly dark eyes. Then it was over.

In reality, his eyes opened, staring into the pale blues of Angela. She was breathing heavily, recovering from the mutual orgasm, and the look in Jack's eyes, coupled with his slightly gaping mouth, was some cause for alarm. "What's wrong, baby?"

He was silent for a moment. "You're right, Angela."

"About what?"

"Bad times are coming," he said with a sigh.

Of course, not everyone currently recognized that, least of all the foursome. Khala had moved now to leaning back against her very own grave-marker, three sets of balls emptying out their impressive loads across her beautiful face. Eyes were tightly shut, and she writhed on the dirt, absolutely in rapture at the warm, sticky spurts of cum that were coating her face and full breasts.

As their barrage ended, she rolled away slightly, lying on her back and swallowing the tart sperm that had found her tongue, and flicking her tongue out to catch the three distinct tastes that had shot across her lips, chin, and cheeks. The boys lowered themselves to the ground too, resting for the days duties.

Jack sighed long and hard watching this, turning again to face Angela. "I'm not sure we have the best crew to handle trouble, either."

She gave a thin-lipped smile, and nodded, resting her head once again on his shoulders. Things were going to get very troubling very soon.

(Part 2 Coming Soon! I super-enjoy getting comments, so send them whether they are positive or negative! I don't help the internet community masturbate for nothing, ya know! )

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