Text
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
The agents were due to meet their informant….a bizarre character in full Halloween disguise.
Art the Clown was unpredictable and soon had our catsuited damsels roped up and taking mammoth gags.
The fun was just about to start as the depraved loon decided to unleash his full arsenal of japes and pranks to torment his captives. In time he might give them the info they want…..but on his own crazy terms.
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
638 notes
·
View notes
Photo
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
From Chrystal Heights hotspot The Zone:
Niamh entered The Zone.
She was early and she knew it. She wasn't supposed to meet her sister Skylar here for another hour. But Niamh wanted to experience The Zone for herself, not through someone else's lens. Skylar had told her not to go to The Zone without her, but Skylar thought she knew everything. Well, Skylar was the one who couldn't keep her belly from getting swelled, not Niamh.
Since she had an hour to kill until Skylar arrived, Niamh decided to visit the edgiest club she was aware of. A gothic vampire-themed club called The Chalice.
*****
The Chalice throbbed. The pulsing music, a mix of industrial beats and darkwave, reverberated through the room, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. Neon lights flashed in time with the bass, casting deep shadows that shifted and danced across the faces of the crowd. Amid the sea of bodies moving as one in a haze of sound and sweat, Niamh stood out.
Niamh had second-guessed herself from the moment she walked in, but something held her in place, a lingering curiosity or perhaps even fascination with the scene. She nursed a drink at the bar as her eyes scanned the crowd with quiet detachment, not quite comfortable, not quite uneasy.
And then she felt him.
It was a sensation more than anything, a prickle at the back of her neck, like a soft breath. Niamh turned and found her gaze locking onto a pair of dark eyes from across the dance floor.
He stood apart from the crowd, leaning casually against the wall, as though the chaos around him didn’t touch him. His face was sharp, almost too perfect, with pale skin and dark tousled hair that contrasted sharply with the dim lighting. Something about his presence unsettled her, yet she couldn’t look away.
He displayed a predatory grace as he moved toward her, the crowd flowing as if they parted just for him, and perhaps they did. He was tall, his frame lean and athletic, dressed in dark clothes that seemed to absorb the light around him. As he neared, Niamh’s heart quickened, though she wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else. His aura was a dangerous thing, wild and restrained, but there was something disarming in the way he carried himself, something that made him approachable, even if a little intimidating. He stopped just short of her, a slight, knowing smile playing at the corner of his lips.
He said nothing for several seconds and Niamh flickered nervously, feeling the weight of his presence. Then he spoke.
“Is this your kind of place?” His voice was smooth, rich, cutting through the noise like a blade through smoke.
Niamh blinked, momentarily taken aback by the way his voice seemed to resonate inside her. “First time,” she said, shrugging, determined to appear more confident than she felt. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”
“Sometimes it's better to be an outsider,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “It makes you stand out.”
The way he said it, the shape of his words, sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to step back, put some distance between them, but at the same time, she felt drawn by the subtle power of his attention, his way of making her feel seen in a place where she might otherwise feel invisible. His presence was magnetic and the air between them had deepened, pulling her in.
“I’m Zack,” he said, offering his hand.
Niamh hesitated, but for only for a second. His skin was cool to the touch, almost unnaturally so, but his grip was firm, commanding. When he released her hand, she felt a small pang of loss, though she couldn’t explain why. It was as though his touch was something she had been craving without knowing it.
“I’m Niamh.”
“Niamh,” he said, letting it roll off his tongue like a revealed secret. “It suits you.”
The conversation was simple enough, but something was happening beneath the surface, a current of heat and intensity she couldn’t quite grasp. His eyes never left hers and she found herself lost in them. They were impossibly dark, with an immenseness that made her feel as though he could see through her, past her words, past her defenses, straight into her soul.
Still smiling that slight, knowing smile, Zack said, “Shall we dance?”
It was more command than request and Niamh instinctively hesitated, rebelling, but before her mouth could form a refusal, her body moved on its own and suddenly they were on the dance floor.
The music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the rhythm of their movements. His hands rested on her hips, guiding her in a slow, deliberate sway that didn’t match the frantic beat of the club. Time felt distorted, as though they moved in a bubble separate from everyone else.
As if sensing her confusion, Zack leaned in closer. “Relax, Niamh. Let go.”
His words wrapped around her, soothing her in a way that was almost unnatural. Her muscles, tense from the unfamiliar environment, began to soften, her mind following suit. The unease she’d felt earlier melted away, replaced by a foreign calmness, as though nothing mattered except the feeling of his hands on her and the weight of his voice in her mind.
And his scent. His powerful, masculine scent.
"You're different from the others here," said Zack, his voice warm, powerful. "There's something…pure about you."
Niamh blushed. "Perhaps I'm just not as…intense as some of them."
Zack's features formed a perfect, predatory smile. "You're not, and that's a good thing. You don't need to be like them. You're perfect the way you are."
She gasped, a reaction out of context to his words, but there’d been something in the way he said it that made her heart race, a sudden surge of heat and excitement. His eyes, dark and endless, were drawing her in now and they were filled with promises she couldn't quite understand.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low, mesmerizing. “Just focus on me, Niamh. Only me.”
Niamh’s heartbeat slowed, her thoughts growing hazy. The crowd no longer registered on her consciousness; they’d faded far into the background. All she could feel was Zack- Zack's presence, Zack's touch, Zack's voice. Zack's scent. It was overwhelming and yet she couldn't get enough.
His hand tilted her chin. “Look at me, Niamh."
She did. She couldn't have broken the connection even if she'd wanted to.
His gaze deepened, pulling her into a vast, consuming swirl. Niamh could feel her will slipping away, her mind becoming pliant under his influence. Not forceful, but insistent, unstoppable, like a tide slowly washing away the sand beneath her feet.
“You don’t want to resist, do you?” he asked, although it wasn’t really a question. His thumb brushed lightly over her lower lip, sending a pulse through her body.
“No,” she whispered, the word slipping from her lips without thought.
"You trust me."
"I trust you."
Satisfaction reflected in his eyes. “Good girl.”
Niamh squeaked as the words sent a rush of warmth through her, as if she'd been waiting to hear those words her entire life. Her lungs were filled with his masculine scent now, heat flooding her belly as she lubricated beyond anything she'd ever experienced.
The world outside of Zack no longer mattered.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his hands moving, removing her clothes without resistance. “You belong to me now, Niamh. Say it.”
Niamh wriggled, overheated, needy, only vaguely aware she was now naked, barely conscious of the fact that she was being bent over. “I belong to you.”
Zack was behind Niamh now, his grip on her hips firm. Pulling her closer. Penetrating her. Possessing her. “You’ll do anything I ask.”
“Anything,” she repeated, her voice barely a breath. Eyes closed as his scent wrapped around her, filled her, touched everything inside her.
And then Zack began stroking into Niamh.
His initial stokes were firm and controlled, but as he pushed his thick cock into the dazed Niamh, they became savage thrusts. Niamh mewled, her hips meeting his furious mating with feral intensity. A lava-heat was spreading through her, radiating outward, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. An impossible mix of want and need and something more- something darker, more intense.
Zack's grip tightened on her hips, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh as he moved with a rhythm that was now both powerful and controlled. Niamh writhed, her body responding helplessly to his dominance, a primal part of her awakening under his touch.
The darkness stretched for endless minutes as her consciousness shrunk to a single focus…Zack's powerful cock pumping her sopping pussy. And then Zack's lips grazed the side of her neck, lingering for just a moment over her pulsing artery.
“You’re mine,” he said, and for the briefest moment, she felt a sharp prick of cold against her neck.
And then he exploded deep inside her.
Niamh moaned as she felt the warm surge inside her, and then her eyes widened as his release triggered hers. Waves of heat and pleasure washed over her, engulfing her, and she came on his cock again and again. The music, the lights, the people…faded to nothing. There was only Zack. His cold, perfect hands holding her, his voice in her mind, the overwhelming, inescapable sense that she'd never felt more complete.
He stayed behind her for long seconds afterward, draining his cock inside her. Then he finally pulled his thick, softening dick from her sex with a wet slurp.
Niamh dropped to her knees, her cheeks red. Her arms crossed over her bare breasts as she suddenly realized she was in front of an applauding crowd and she was naked. She moved to grab what little of her clothes she could find, but then she realized something else.
Her belly was swelling.
Niamh's eyes widened. "W-What…?!"
Zack reached out, his fingertips pressed against her growing belly. Her breasts were growing heavy with milk. "Simply a trophy, Niamh. My trophy. Carrying my child suits you. You'll make a fine breeding pet."
Heat flooded her cheeks as she felt her pussy gush at his words. Then Zack turned and melted into the crowd, leaving a blushing, swelled Niamh scrambling for her clothes.
Niamh felt a jacket laid across her shoulders. She turned to see her older sister Skylar standing there, shaking her head in exasperation. Her smirk as she looked at Niamh's belly was unmistakable.
"All you had to do was wait an hour, you know," said Skylar.
Niamh blushed. "How the hell was I supposed to know there'd be an Alpha in here?!"
"A Dark Alpha."
"What?"
"A Dark Alpha," repeated Skylar. "Half-vampire, half-Alpha. Usually the result of an Alpha overwhelming a female vampire. Their pheromones aren't quite as powerful as the full-breed Alpha, but they have the whole half-vampire thing working for them as well…as you may have noticed. You just became a thrall, you know. Now Zack can knock you up any time he wants…and he will." Skylar pointed to Niamh's nearly fully-swelled belly and her sloshing, full breasts. "There's number one."
@supernovaniamh
@SkylarSilva098
@thehypnolurker
@kirathewarrior1999
@kayjaythebaybay
@drjezebeljennings
@aurora03e
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
676 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Why does my head feel soo…”
“Empty?”
“Yes.”
“Its just the after-effects of the treatment.”
“Treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Was I sick?”
“You could say that, yes.”
“And you made me better?”
“Yes… I did.”
“Thank you!! I hope I can find some way to thank you!”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Me too… but my head’s so…”
“Empty?”
“Yes.”
“Its OK. I’ll think for you.”
“Yay!! Thank you!”
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
955 notes
·
View notes
Text
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
168 notes
·
View notes
Photo
37K notes
·
View notes