Oleg stirred, groggy, and groaning much the same. He rolled over onto his front, cold stone bricks beneath him. He ached a little, his neck in particular, though he felt the subtly throbbing bite wounds in several places. Lightly painful, and oddly tingly to offset said pain.
He sat up, and then looked at his surroundings... if he could see them. He found himself in some dark room, like a cell in a dungeon, but far less inviting than the one he was in before, and just that bit colder.
He was still naked, and he could recall why.
"Those... vampires..." he muttered to himself, gingerly brushing fingertips across the puncture wounds on his neck, shivering in response.
There was, of course, all the other obscene things they'd done to him. After his violation, his subsequent capture was... more of the same, though far more targeted. Those women in black, the matriarch in white he saw...
They made him cum several times over before their bites seemed to put him under. They kept saying things to him, and he swore their whispers echoed in his mind. Trying to persuade him. Lure him deeper into their snare.
They talked about wondrous service. That he would make a great servant.
He resisted, but that did not seem to anger or displease them much.
Now he was here, wherever that was. He looked around some more, the only light coming from a dimly lit brazier, and a torch sconce burning much higher up, the ceiling of the cell apparently quite vaulted.
He saw openings near it, but he could make out nothing else.
Oleg groaned, and stood up, rubbing his upper arms from the chill.
"What now," he muttered, wondering what other twists fate had in store for him, or if this was disposal, discarded like trash since he did not submit.
He heard a noise behind him, and he whipped around.
"Who's there!?" he challenged, nerves on their very edges.
He saw a silhouette in the darkness, and he assumed a defensive posture, assuming it to be another of those vampire women.
For all the good it'd do him; they could turn into smoke.
But as the figure approached, it resolved into a naked woman with an olive complexion, not the deathly pale white of the vampires.
Several steps more, and the figure's face was visible.
Oleg's stance softened, and his expression was one of relief and confusion.
"Jasmine?" he ventured.
It was indeed her, but she said nothing. She just continued to approach. However, as she neared, Oleg picked out her breathing; not laboured, but heavier, heated.
"Jasmine, are you alright?" Oleg asked, sounding concerned.
He could see her eyes now, and thankfully, they were not glassy and glazed over. They were fixed on him, and yet... they seemed a bit off.
Simultaneously distant, and yet possessing an unusual intensity.
Instinctively, Oleg took a step back, but he did not attempt to flee Jasmine; she was his friend, and in part, he bore guilt over abandoning her.
"Jasmine, what happened to you?"
Still, she did not answer, other than letting out a heated gasp.
Suddenly, she lunged, making Oleg yelp as she grasped him by the shoulders.
"Jasmine, I'm sorry for leaving you, you told me to ru--"
Oleg started his apology with a desperate fear, but Jasmine did him no harm. Instead, she cut him off with a deep, desperate kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth and forcing his own into submission with its wild wriggling.
Oleg's eyes widened in shock at this, a muffled, startled exclamation loosed into Jasmine's mouth.
She murmured herself as she pressed her body against his, one hand moving to grasp the back of his head, preventing him from breaking the kiss, the other sliding down his back to pull him close, her erect nipples poking him in the chest.
This lurid kiss continued for several moments, Oleg trying to worm himself free, but Jasmine was always the strongest of the group. Her hugs were inescapable.
Eventually, she released the kiss with a gasp, panting not with strain, but with intense emotional need.
She looked him the eyes, and now Oleg could see the lust and arousal, twisted with sympathetic apology.
"I'm sorry..." she uttered softly.
Then, she pushed Oleg down to the ground, his back once more on the cold stone floor.
She draped herself atop of him, her breasts brushing against his face as she pinned him down.
"What's gotten into you!?" he demanded, trying to push her off, and still failing. She kept him pinned, grinding her body upon his... she was rather smooth. Soft to the touch despite her fit physique.
Womanly.
He never quite saw Jasmine like that, despite appreciating her beauty.
His cock began to stir, far too eager to respond to any sort of sensual touch.
Jasmine started sliding down his body, trailing her lips softly downwards, pecking him, dragging her oral petals sensually across his bare skin, tongue tasting him crudely. She paused at his nipples to kiss them, brief firm suckling smacks that bade farewell with Jasmine's tongue lingering against his sensitive nubs.
His shaft was starting to rise now, betraying his own thoughts about this.
His belly flinched when Jasmine kissed and licked, her efforts a little crude, but driven by an intense desire, hungry and desperate.
Soon, she was crossing over his pelvis, slipping between his thighs. And without hesitation, and with another surprised yelp from Oleg, Jasmine clasped her lips around his recently shaven balls, and began to suckle.
His cock bumped against her forehead, throbbing as she coaxed it to full mast with her kisses, licks and hungry suckles, juggling his balls with her tongue.
Oleg moaned, looking down at Jasmine as she worked. His body seemed... extra receptive.
He'd be lying if he'd never had
