old joke and making the eternal being roll his eyes.
She takes in his good looks- from the devious yet wary smile of his hunter’s face to his slender yet muscular frame.
“You should try the undeath yourself, woman,” he says.
“Not really my style,” Cremona replies, as she continues to back away, the two men admiring her big, full tits pushing through the slit running down her dress.
“Perhaps just death then?” Vincent suggests.
“Are you two going to try and glamour me, or am I just going to have to fuck myself?” she asks, licking her lips and holding the butt of her sword up to the hem of her short dress, pushing it up to her pussy and bristling as she feels the bluntness of it touching her.
Vincent, having dealt with her before, realises that doing what she suggests will undoubtedly be a trap.
The more callow vampire, however, opens his eyes wide to glamour her- the two little spheres turning bright red and burning like dirty oil.
“No!” Vincent shouts.
But it’s too late, as Cremona holds her sword up, and suddenly the invisible magic of the glamour spell becomes something fluid and purple in the air, something which she is able to pull from him with a flick of her sword, and then hurl towards the screaming Vincent with a further muscular swipe.
The vampire attempts to dodge out of the w ay of the spell, but now that the magic has a target it seems to have a mind of its own, and eventually it pins him down and envelopes him.
“Vincent, come over here and stick your big dirty stake in me!” Cremona shouts- the dazed-looking vampire quickly following her command.
“What? But it was my spell!” the other vampire complains.
“The spell just puts people in a suggestible state,” Cremona says, as Vincent reaches her and suddenly has his hands all over her, pushing her up against the cold, black wall and squeezing at her tits and arse with his strong, muscular hands.
“Once someone is in the state, they just respond to whoever commands them first. Don’t you even know how your own magic works?” she gasps, as Vincent works is mouth over her neck, allowing his fangs to lightly graze her skin.
“I know how my own hands work! When they’re... by squeezing... by wrapping round your neck and throttling you!”
“Smooth , fucker,” Cremona says, liking her lips for the taste of anticipation as she feels something hardening in the glamoured man’s trousers.
“Not as smooth ... as your... face is going to be... after I kill it!” he shouts, before charging.
“Vincent,” she says, sweetly. “Restrain your friend.”
“Wha-” the running vampire manages to say, just before his throat is gripped by the much older and stronger Vincent.
“What’s your friend’s name, Vincent?” Cremona asks.
“Kultor,” Vincent answers- without removing his mouth from her neck, his gripping arm sticking out rigidly behind him.
“Hello, Kultor. You might have heard of me? My name’s Cremona, and I’m crazier than a rat in a wasps’ nest,” she explains, as she writhes and shivers beneath Vincent’s cold grip- the vampire running his hands all over her body then into the toned-tangle of muscles in her thighs.
“Gahkay,” Kultor manages to gasp through his blocked windpipe.
“Now what’s going to- HAPPEN,” she moans, her voice going up on the last word, as she feels Vincent’s hand brush against her pussy through the thin, black silk of her panties. “Is that you’re going to let go, and then you’re going to do exactly as you’re- COMMANDED,” she explains, her voice once more going up as his hand makes a second contact with her cunt.
“Yahwahmatooglamamasaw?” Kultor asks.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Cremona purrs, as Vincent’s long, black tongue works its sensual magic all over her. “I don’t need you to be glamoured. I just need you to know that, should you do anything to harm me, Vincent here will tear you limb from fucking limb,” she finishes, her voice dropping