Fucking Zombie Bitches Ch. 04

"We're... we're from the States," Kimmy stuttered shyly, trying to make conversation. After our first encounter, Rebekka and I began looking through the place she and her boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, Mark had holed up, trying to find anything useful. They had chosen a small bakery and icecream parlour as their hideout and had moved pretty much all of the furniture outside to create a barricade around the doors and windows of the place, so the room that might once have been a small café was empty, except for some litter, two sleeping bags, two backpacks and a few piles of clothes and bags.

Instead of an answer I just mumbled: "Mhm," while Bekah walked slowly across the room, glancing suspiciously from the two tourists to the shop interior and back again. Kimmy was still naked, her hair frizzy from getting showered in our pee and she stood in the doorway uneasily, not sure what to make of the situation. Mark was outside, acting disinterested in what was going on. "We... we went on a hiking tour across Europe," Kimmy continued, "and when we came across those mountains..."

I sighed. "When you came across the Alps you made a stop in Meran, which is the fist sign of civilization after the Brenner pass," I continued. "Like everyone else. And I guess that's when the whole world turned to shit, and you couldn't go on any more."

Kimmy swallowed hard. "We... I shouldn't even be here. If I had stayed at home in Boston, I wouldn't be in this mess." She was close to crying, and shivering from the cold.

"And what makes you think, this mess didn't happen in Boston as well?" I asked. "As far as we know it's everywhere."

I remembered how it all began. I was at work, driving through town to get to some family that had problems when I heard on the radio the prime minister had issued a state of emergency and everyone was supposed to stay at home and wait for when it was safe enough to come out again. I tried to call my boss, but nobody at city hall answered the phones anymore, and so I just went back home.

On the TV, there were almost constant news about a "nation-wide pandemic" that was highly contagious, but they wouldn't - or couldn't - tell us what it was. Whatever live camera feeds they had were just shaky and showed people rioting in the streets in an apparent mass-panic. On the internet, speculations were abundant, from a military take-over, to an alien invasion, to the zombie apocalypse. Turned out, the zombie apocalypse one was correct.

A few hours later, the power went down. I still had a battery-driven radio in my kitchen that I could tune in to a few stations who all continued to broadcast the stay-at-home warnings and beyond that not much of an update on what was really going on. By evening, I heard riots in the streets below my apartment and during the night, the constant noise from the apartments next to mine and from outside the windows kept me up, until I nervously packed a few things and snuck out the back, trying to get to a quieter part of town, away from what seemed to be an angry mob.

I had ended up in a villa on the wealthier side of town, which seemed abandoned and, more importantly, had high, solid walls around it. I figured if the owners ever returned in all this craziness, then it meant that whatever was going on was over anyway, and at that point I'd just excuse myself and go back home. They never returned, though, and the riots turned out to be zombies, hunting whatever was not a zombie yet.

Kimmy stared at me wide-eyed. "But I have to get home," she said, almost pleading. "I need to find out what's going on with my family." I nodded. The place was picked clean, whatever food they might have had was long gone, and there were no weapons or any useful items to be found. "Dry up," I told her, throwing a dirty, but dry, rag towards her. "We'll have to move out."

"Hold up," a male voice from behind her interrupted. "What makes you think we'll do what you say?" I looked sideways at Kimmy, who dried her hair with the cloth and went through her items to find something to put on. "Well," I answered, "you can stay here and starve to death, or come with us and stand a chance."

"It's all in the numbers," Rebekka said. "Meran has maybe 40.000 citizens. Right now, I'd say about 39.998 of those are out there, hunting for us. If we move, we can hold up in a different place every night, and we would never have to sleep in the same bed twice. On top of that, right now all the supplies that would've lasted this town for about 1 day will last us, even if we divide it up, for about 10.000 days. At least the non-perishable ones." When he stared at her speechless, she just shrugged. "I'm a civil engineer. I'm used to thinking in numbers."

I grinned. "But what about all those... people, out there?" Kimmy asked with trembling voice.

"Fire and brimstone," I replied. "Against them at least we stand a chance. Starving here is not an option." I looked around once more. "Why did you hole up here in the first place?" I asked.

She shrugged. "We were just having some icecream when something came on the radio and people panicked out on the street. And since we didn't have a place to go, we just stuck around. Things got worse and the shop owners all left and closed down, so in the end we figured we'd stand a better chance in here, where there's food... was food... than to just walk out on the streets. Nobody would let us in, so we just... broke in."

I nodded. "Well," I said, "now we'll need to break out again."

I watched her as she squeezed her thin body into underwear, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which had seen better days. "Why do you wear that?" Rebekka asked her. "It's the end of civilization and nobody cares about fashion any more, and between you and me..." she smiled at me sideways, "...between all of us, I won't be sad if I never have to wear underwear or pants for the rest of my life."

Kimmy blushed and stammered: "I... I don't know... I guess I just feel... naked, without them."

I looked down at my own jogging pants and blouse, then over to Rebekka, who still just wore a short black skirt and her open red shirt that barely covered her ample bosom. "You know what?" I said to her. "You're right! New times require a new wardrobe, and I think we should acknowledge that."

Rebekka and me went outside and glanced across the barricades. Mark and Kimmy had pulled all chairs, tables, sofas, even some shelves out onto the sidewalk and somehow all of them, interlocked, created enough of a barrier to stop the Zombies from rushing in on them. We were right at the corner of Laubengasse, where lots of shops just waited to be plundered. Fortunately, it was too tight for cars to drive through, so we wouldn't even have to worry about roadblocks. Unfortunately, it was - or, I guess, still is - the busiest place of Meran, so there were impenetrable masses of Zombies as far as we could see.

"We can't go through the streets," I said to Bekah, "except to go back the way we came from, and even that is risky."

She thought for a moment, then replied: "I've worked at shops like this before. There's usually a connection between the shop and the rest of the building, or even to other shops. Our two American friends may not have looked the place over thoroughly enough."

I nodded and we went back inside. Towards the back of the parlour was one door that was locked, and another labelled as "bathrooms". When asked if they ever opened the locked door, the two tourists just shrugged. I looked around for something to break it open with, but couldn't find anything that would not make a lot of noise, and so finally I just shot out the lock.

The shot rang out loud into the street and was immediately answered by a loud howl from the crowd outside the barricade. Quickly I swung the door open and was greeted by a small, tight broom closet, not even large enough to have one person stand in it. Outside, we heard them rattle as they tried to break down the furniture.

"Shit," Bekah mumbled and turned around, opening the other door. Behind, there was no immediate bathroom, but a small hallway with men's and women's bathroom doors to one side, and an unlabelled door on the other side. From the smell, Kimmy and Mark had been using the bathrooms for quite a while, without running water.

"What's behind that door?" I asked Kimmy. She stared at me, frightened and puzzled, and only shook her head. Bekah tried to open it, but it was also locked. From outside, we could hear wood splinter as some of the furniture gave in to the combined assault. Without hesitation I shot out this lock as well and hastily opened the door. Beyond was a staircase, leading up. We ran up the stairs as the Zombies began to break into the café, the sound of breaking glass coming from behind us.

The door wouldn't keep them away from us now, as busted as it was, and so at the top of the stairs I hurried down a hallway to the left. Some doors were leading off to what I guessed were apartments, but I wanted to get some distance between ourselves and the mob that was following us. I heard Rebekka panting as she hurried after me, the scimitar rattling by her side. Kimmy and Mark must've been right behind her.

At the end of the hallway, it branched off. To the left, a set of stairs was leading down, probably to another shop, and to the right another hallway went on for quite a long way. "Down the hallway," I whispered. "Try the doors and see which one will open." We hurried down the hall as quiet as possible, rattling on doors, desperately trying to find one that was unlocked. When I turned back, I could see a horde of Zombies coming down the hallway, running towards us at an almost inhuman speed. "In here!" Rebekka finally said as she swung open a door, which led into a dark, spacious room.

We rushed inside, Mark coming right after us. Kimmy had just reached the door as she stumbled, something grabbing her arm. Her face twisted in pain as she reached out for her boyfriend. For a split-second, Mark looked into her eyes, then tried to throw the door closed, shutting her out. Bekah pulled him away and I grabbed her by her shirt, pulling her inside as I kicked back the zombie that was holding her. We shut the door and barred it with metal rods from clothing racks that were close by. Obviously, we had just come upon the second level of a clothing store.

"You asshole," Kimmy yelled at Mark, holding her arm with one hand. "You fucking asshole! You betray me and fuck that waitress, and now you just want to leave me behind with those... with those fuckers!" She began to slap him, growing more and more furious. I tried to go between them, but Bekah held me back. "Don't," she whispered into my ear. "Let's be careful."

Mark tried to defend himself, but something seemed to have come over Kimmy. Soon, she began to throw him around like a wet bag, pinning him against a wall while she growled in his face. Bekah and I kept our distance as we watched what was happening. The whole scene could not have been much longer than a few minutes when suddenly, Kimmy threw the dumbfounded guy down on the ground and stepped behind him. There was a visible bulge in her pants that stretched them hard across her crotch, and suddenly, the jeans burst open at the seams and the same thick, fleshy protrusion I had seen earlier on the Zombie that had raped Bekah came pushing out, pressing hard against Mark's butt while she held him down.

We watched as she tried to penetrate him, holding him pinned to the ground as he squirmed and wiggled underneath her, and to my surprise succeeded as I saw the fabric on the back of his pants give in and the thick, hard cock was forced deep into his dry asshole. She immediately began fucking him hard and raw as he groaned and squirmed underneath her, struggling to get back up.

Rebekka pulled me aside behind one of the clothes racks. "What the hell is going on?" I whispered.

She looked at me surprised. "You've seen it before, you know what it is," she said.

I shook my head. "I didn't know... I didn't know women had that... thing... did that, too."

She shrugged and pulled me further into the shop. "Well, now we've got two problems. We've got a horde of Zombies outside trying to get in and we've got two Zombies inside with us, who will come after us once they're done with each other."

I nodded. "We need to get away from them," I said, glancing to the sword at her waist. "I... I don't think I can... kill them. I've just talked to them, like, two minutes ago."

"Twelve," she said.

I looked at her puzzled. "What?" I asked.

"Twelve minutes," she replied. "It takes twelve minutes between a bite or...another transfer and the infection to take over."

I nodded. "So... so she must've been bitten when we started running?" I replied.

Bekah shrugged. "Doesn't matter now," she said. "We need to get moving."

Quietly we crawled down rows of dresses, pants and shirts until we came to a nice, fancy mid-store staircase that led down to the ground level. I nodded at Rebekka and we made our way down. The ground floor was just as empty as the upper floor, but better lit, with daylight coming in through large storefront windows.

We pulled a heavy shelf in front of the staircase, hoping it would at least slow down whoever came down those stairs, and then went through the store to look for a way out. "Hey," I said to Bekah, pulling a white leather jacket out of a rack. "They've got some cool stuff here!"

Bekah looked back at me. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea, after all," she said. "Getting better clothes that can offer some protection against bites." Together we scouted the shop for thick leather clothing. "Here," she said finally, throwing some white leather chaps at me, that were studded with chrome rivets. "Those will fit your jacket."

"Wouldn't it be better to find something that covers our... holes?" I asked back.

She shook her head. "If it comes right down to it, I'd rather be raped than bitten," she replied matter-of-factly. "At least when it's in my pussy, there's still a chance to get it out. Once you're bit, it's over."

I nodded, quietly putting on the chaps. They fit nicely around my legs, a little lose around the end, with a bell-bottom cut. Underneath I put on a tight, green body suit which I left unbuttoned between my legs, keeping my amber crotch exposed. The white leather jacket completed my outfit and felt nice and cool on my body.

I almost whistled when I saw Bekah. She wore some leather straps around her legs, high green leather boots that went up to her knees and a likewise green leather skirt that she had cut open in the front and back, exposing her hairy muff and big black butt. On top, she wore a red leather jacket that was too tight to close across her tits, and short enough to barely go down half her back. She looked gorgeous, and I was once again jealous of her figure.

Our shopping spree was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise. Kimmy had made her way downstairs and started banging on the shelf. Mark came running down the stairs behind her and lunged headlong into the shelf, throwing it over. I was astonished at their strength and speed, and apparent indifference to pain and wounds.

Bekah and I retreated further to the side of the shop, where we found an archway that lead to the store next door. Behind us, I could hear the two zombies sniff the air, and then fast, heavy steps coming closer.

The shop we entered sold sports gear, and Bekah grabbed a rack right next to the archway that held an assortment of fishing equipment and tried to turn it over to block the way. I hurried to help her and just as the two came rushing through the archway, we brought the whole thing down on them.

Mark and Kimmy lay trapped underneath a pile of fishing rods, nets, and the steel rods from the rack, getting more and more entangled in the mess. I was taking deep breaths, as Bekah stepped in front of them, legs spread wide, and spat down. She held her skirt open at the front and soon a stream of pee prattled down on the heads of the two writhing zombies.

I looked around. The store was sorted into sections for different sports. One aisle had football equipment, another items for riding, skating, tennis, skiing and plenty of others. As non-sporty as I am, I couldn't even recognize the use of half of the items on display. When I returned to Bekah, she was going through the sales counter, looking for useful items.

"Look what I found," I said, grinning wickedly at her as I brought up a riding crop and placed it underneath her chin. "Just the right equipment for my little fuck mare."

She looked at me and nodded, smiling slightly. "That's what I am, Mistress," she said sternly.

"Well, then come up on the counter and offer yourself to me," I told her, slapping the crop sharply on her tits as they were peeking out from underneath her jacket. She shrieked, but obediently crawled on the counter top and sat down, spreading her legs towards me. Outside the sun was low on the horizon, its beams shining light and golden through the big shop windows, glistening on the soft, curly afro-pubes of my black fuckslut, illuminating the pink moist opening to her warm, soft cunt below.

I slapped hard onto that opening. Bekah shrieked again, but bravely kept her legs spread, the pain sending shivers through her body. I targeted her clit with the crop, but when I slapped it down, I left streaks left and right of her labia, never quite hitting the spot.

"Oh, and I also found this," I said absently, holding up my other hand with a long, wooden baseball bat that I had hidden behind my back. Her eyes widened at the sight of it, with a forbearing of what was to come. "Why don't you start sucking on it?" I asked, holding it up to her.

She wrapped her big, wide lips around the tip of the bat, trying her best to suck on it, but barely fitting the end into her mouth. Her jacket fell open and exposed her large, soft tits, hanging down her sides as I turned the bat inside her mouth, making her drool all over it.

Finally, I pulled it back and ran it along her now slippery wet labia. "What do we say, mare?" I asked seductively as she caught her breath, moaning lightly.

"Please Mistress," she whispered, "rape my piss cunt raw and hard."

Without waiting any longer, I spread her labia with one hand, while drilling the thick end of the bat inside her moist hairy muff with the other, just pushing and turning it, going in inch by inch, not letting on, not caring how wide it stretched her, how much it hurt her and how rough it fucked her. I used her like she was just a hole, and my only job was to stuff it with the baseball bat, thrusting it harder and harder up her black cunt, fucking her deeper and stronger than anything she had ever felt before.

She groaned and grunted, losing all self-control, rubbing her clit frantically with both hands while I held onto the bat with mine and rammed it inside her, over and over, wanting to abuse her, degrade her, violate her and make sure she would forever remember who fucked her this hard.

She must've come several times, shaking and trembling when I finally pulled the bat back out. Piss and cum gushed out of her cunt hole, running down on the counter and the glass in front of it. "And now, what do we say?" I asked, grinning down at her.

Instead of an answer, she slowly got up, sliding off the counter in front of me. She sat on her knees, right in front of my red bushy pussy and looked up at me submissively. "Thank you Ma'am," she said as she ran her fingers along my slit, sucking my slimy juices off them, then inserting them even deeper.

Soon, she moved from my cunt to my asshole, probing it slightly, crooking her fingers inside my bowels until she pressed exactly on the right spot, relaxing my bladder. A yellow, thick stream of piss shot uncontrollably out of my twat, hitting her square in the face. She let it run all over her head, getting showered in my pee while she still fucked my asshole with her fingers.