Ami's First Blood

A few hours had passed since Ami's transformation. The old Ami—the calm, analytical Sailor Mercury—no longer existed. What remained was a new being: young, perfect, hungry. The hunger was omnipresent—a burning, pulsating craving that throbbed in every cell of her body, making her new fangs tingle, her pussy wet and ready, her skin cool and sensitive. It drove her outside, away from the warehouse, into the nighttime streets of Neo-Tokyo.

The city had grown quieter. People had gone into hiding—doors locked, windows darkened, lights extinguished. The streets lay empty and dark, only the soft rustle of wind and the distant dripping of rain could be heard. But Ami could still smell them. Their delicious blood—thick, warm, alive—their sweat, their fear—a sweet, warm scent drifting through the alleys like an invisible path, guiding her, making her nostrils flare, her mouth water.

She moved silently, her new senses sharp as blades—every smell clearer, every sound louder, every touch more intense. Her black-golden hair blew in the night wind, her pale skin shimmered in the moonlight like polished marble, her red eyes glowed hungrily, reflecting the light like burning coals. Her body was pure seduction—full, heavy breasts rose and fell with every step, nipples hard and dark, a narrow waist flowing into wide hips and a round, plump ass, long legs moved fluidly, powerfully, as if she were gliding. Every step felt light, powerful—she felt the cold of the asphalt under her bare feet, the wetness of the rain collecting in small puddles and clinging to her toes.

Then she found her first victim.

A man crept through the shadows of a narrow alley—older, around sixty, hunched, clothes wrinkled and old, the smell of fear and sweat rising from him, mixed with the faint scent of old tobacco and cheap aftershave. Ami smelled his blood—thick, warm, alive, pulsing—and her mouth watered, her fangs pressing against her lips, a sharp pull in her jaw, her tongue instinctively running over them, tasting the tips.

She leaped—good 20 meters in a single, powerful bound—the air whistled past her ears, her hair flew like a dark veil, she landed silently right in front of him, knees slightly bent, muscles tensed like those of a predator. The man froze, his eyes widened in terror, his breath caught, a quiet gasp escaped his throat.

Ami smiled—a cold, seductive smile that showed her new fangs, white and sharp in the moonlight, her red eyes glowing more intensely, fixing him like a predator its prey.

“No need to be afraid,” she whispered, her voice deep, smoky, changed—no longer the gentle, clear voice from before, but something dark, enticing, that went straight through flesh and bone. “You’ll belong to me soon… and take me… fill me… and then others…”

The man wanted to run, turned in panic—but Ami’s hand shot forward, grabbed him by the collar, held him like a vise, her fingers cold and unyielding. Her claws—long, black, sharp—tore his clothes from his body—fabric ripped with a sharp, high-pitched sound, shirt and pants fell in shreds to the ground, exposing his aging body, skin sagging, shoulders hunched, yet his cock already twitched as if sensing her presence, growing hard under her gaze.

Ami immediately began massaging his cock—her cold fingers closed tightly around it, slid up and down, feeling it harden under her touch, throbbing, growing, the veins pulsing hot beneath her skin. The man moaned—half in fear, half in pleasure—his eyes widened, his breathing came in gasps, his body trembled.

Ami pressed her full breasts into his face—the nipples hard and dark, glistening with sweat, the salty scent of her skin rising to his nose. He gasped, his lips touched her skin, sucked instinctively, while she turned and sat on him—her body lowered slowly, her wet pussy enveloped his cock, took him deep inside, a stabbing, sweet pain that instantly turned into ecstasy. She moaned loudly—greedily, animalistically—began riding him, her hips rising and falling in a hard, fast rhythm, the wet smacking of her movements echoing through the alley, mingling with his gasps.

She grabbed his hair—her fingers dug in, pulled his head back, exposed his neck—the skin there thin, veins pulsing, the blood beneath hot and tempting, the scent overwhelming. She leaned forward—her new fangs flashed—and bit.

The blood flowed hot over her tongue—sweet, metallic, alive, like liquid fire running down her throat, filling her veins, making her lust explode. She moaned while sucking—deep, greedy—drank in long, deep gulps while continuing to ride him, her pussy milking his cock, her hips circling, seeking more, deeper.

The man transformed beneath her—his skin tightened, his muscles grew firmer, his body became younger, stronger, wrinkles disappeared, shoulders broadened. His hands gripped her hips—firm, demanding—pulled her harder down onto him, thrust deeper inside her, the slapping of his hips against her ass growing louder. Then he leaned forward—his new fangs flashed—and bit into her breast, greedily sucking her blood while continuing to take her, harder, more brutally, his cock throbbing inside her, filling her completely.

Ami came—a scream of pure ecstasy tore from her throat, her pussy spasming around his cock, a gush of wetness running over his hips, her eyes glowing red, her body shuddering, sweat running over her skin, making it glisten, wet.

She was hungry.

She was free.

And she wanted more.

Much more.

The night belonged to her.

Forever.