A Zombie catches Clara

Clara began to sprint down the dingy stone hallways in an attempt to shake off her rotten pursuers. She weaves around corner after corner in an attempt to build some distance between her and the small group of zombies that were hunting her. While she was running, her previous encounter with their kind was all she could think about, her mind flooded with the thoughts of the sickening arousal that she couldn't contain. Clara was half-content to just slow down, strip off and let them ravish her once more - but for now she kept running, hearing the growls of the zombies not far behind her. Before reaching the end of yet another hallway, she noticed that the familiar sound of her new companion's footsteps had disappeared. "Damn it!" she thought quickly, "Why did he stop following me? Ugh, whatever, I'm sure he'll be able to find me later..."

As Clara took the turn at the end of the hallway, she was suddenly thrown to the ground by something on her left. She could smell it before she could see it, it had a sweet smell of rotten flesh. On her back and dazed, she looked up at her attacker. An undead woman's half-decayed face was staring right back at her.

The undead woman had cuts all over her discoloured skin, shoulder-length faded brown hair and pale grey eyes. Clara estimated that she must have been in her early 20s when she turned. Her form was half-covered by brown tattered rags which looked to be remains of her old clothing. Clara had to admit that her attacker's figure must have been very desirable in life as she briefly looked down at the zombie's now maggot-ridden undead body along with D-cup breasts that were now pressed up against Clara's modest pair.

Before she could say anything, the undead woman's decayed lips launched forwards and closed around Clara's, resulting in muffled protests from the School Captain as she tried to push her off. Try as she might though, the undead woman's grasp on her was too tight as her mouth was filled with the foul taste of a rotten tongue and other... wriggling sensations. Clara couldn't help but start to close her eyes and lightly moan as her new, sick fetish began to be realised once more.

She was now experiencing a grimy, slimy and disgusting taste of the zombie's tongue along with whatever insects or maggots it carried... and was somehow not entirely opposed to it. The cold and hardened nipples of her attacker pressed up against her own which only made her moan louder into the zombie's mouth.

She was all too aware that the previous group of zombies would be catching up to her any second... and she couldn't wait.