Back to Brooke

Dracula… Ha!

You close your eyes and concentrate on the Powers menu – you do not find a better way to put it. Protean, Celerity, Auspex… Where did you hear that?

You remember now, back in the nineties your little brother used to play that pen and paper “jeu de rôles”, what’s the name in English? Ah yes, role playing game: Vampire the Mascarade or something.

“How is it possible?” you wonder.

But then again you see the little red gauge to the left and you think about what you just lost, the opportunity that ran away…

Let’s see if there is something here that could help you.

Animalism, isn’t that the power that allows you to become a beast? Instantly you see yourself chasing sweet Brooke in the guise of wolf, running through the woods tracking her delicious scent. Let’s try it.

The rune starts glowing.

Your vision blurs and you find yourself looking at the town from very high. Main street, the little dinner, the school in the distance, the little house you rent…

Are you a bat? Did you just turn into a bat? Probably not as you can see everything very clearly and bats are blind. Maybe it’s an owl, that is great too, although it does sound a bit silly: the great vampire owl does not sound as cool as the big bad vampire wolf or the dreaded vampire bat. And suddenly you see your car and you sitting on the hood…

Riiiiight, animalism was about animal control not transformation. Anyway, let’s make due. Your friendly owl will help you find the morsel that ran away… There she is. She didn’t get far, just few hundred meters down the road. Good.

Suddenly you’re back in your body. An evil grin appears on your face. This thing about being evil is quite nice… You jump into your car and start the engine. You leave the window open letting the cold air hitting your face. In no time you are upon her.

“You really thought I would give up on you?”

She freezes.

“Mr. Leclair… please let me go.”

“Why would I do that, you’re a clever student and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you on your way home.”

“Mr. Leclair… You did things to me… You made me do things… Bad things…”

“Brooke! How could you think that? I’m your teacher and I would never do anything bad to you… Now, hop in the car, please.”

She hesitates for a moment but finally she gets in. You drive for a while in silence enjoy the sound of her breath and delicious scent of her damp pussy.

“Before I drop you home I have something quick to do. You don’t mind do you?”

“No…”

You reach the outskirts of the town; the sheriff car is parked on the side of the road. You grin again.

“Tell me Brooke have you been reading the books I recommended you?”

“Yes…”

“Good. You know what Brooke? I love your accent in French, why don’t we practice your French?”

“Oui, Monsieur.”

“Bien, bien, bien, dis moi Brooke, est-ce que tu voudrais prendre ma grosse bite dans le cul ? ” (Good, good, good, tell me Brooke, would you like to take my fat cock in the ass?)

“Non, Monsieur, please… don’t hurt me.”

You stop the car and turn towards your passenger.

“Brooke, you really have to try harder. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, revenons au Français.”

“Oui, Monsieur. Pardon, Monsieur.”

You start driving again getting deeper into the wilderness that surrounds the town.

“Donc Brooke, tu ne veux pas prendre ma grosse bite dans le cul,” you enunciate distinctly, “cependant ta petite chatte est toute mouillée. Ne me ment pas je la sens toute chaude et gluante. Peut-être que tu préfèrerai la prendre dans ton petit con.” ( So Brooke, you don’t want my fat cock up your ass, yet your little pussy is all wet, and don’t lie to me, I can smell it all sticky and warm. Maybe you’d like it up your tight cunt.)

“I’m sorry sir, what is gluante?”

“Follow me and I’ll show you,” you say pulling over under some trees.

You take a few steps into the shade; the girl is on your steps.

“That’s far enough. Take off your jeans. Good, now come here.”

Soon, your fingers come out of her cunt covered in whiteish goo.

“This is “gluant”, sticky, viscous, slimy… “gluant”. Now repeat after me: Quand je pense au professeur Leclair…”

(When I think about professor Leclair…)

You flip her facing away from you. Her tender body under your hands is trembling.

“Quand je pense au professor Leclair…”

“Je suis toute chose et je dois fourrer mes petits doigts dans ma chatte gluante…”

(I have butterflies in my stomach and I have to stick my tiny fingers in my slimy pussy.)

Her hair tickles your nose, you start nibbling on her ear, playing with the tiny bubble earing between your teeth.

“Je suis toute chose et je dois fourrer mes petits doigts dans ma chatte gluante…”

“Again!” you whisper.

Your arms covering hers, you gently squeeze her against you.

“Quand je pense au professor, sorry, professeur Leclair, je suis toute chose et je dois fourrer mes petits doigts dans ma chatte gluante…”

“Again!” you order while guiding her hand between her thighs.

She starts panting heavily.

“Quand je pense au professeur Leclair, je suis toute chose et je dois fourrer me petits doigts dans ma chatte gluante… oooh…”

She lifts her head nesting your face in the recess of her neck. The sloppy sound of her fingers and the musky scent of her tight flower are making you so hungry.

“Now repeat : Je sucerai bien le professeur Leclair mais comme je suis une gentille fifille j’ai peur de ce que les autres penseraient de moi. ”

(I’d love to suck professor Leclair but since I’m a good girl, I’m afraid of what the others might think)

“Oh professor Leclair…”

“I said repeat ! ”

Your mouth wraps against her artery, you can sense the pulsation below your lips. You tease her flesh.

“Je sucerai bien le professeur Leclair… mais comme je suis une gentille fifille… hum… j’ai peur de ce que les autres penseraient de moi. ”

For the first time you feed. Fuck that feels good!

Your fangs tear the flesh of the youthful slut between your arms.

***

You are smoking a cigarette by your car when your first disciple comes out of the woods transformed.

“Can I take you home now?” you ask.