Trick or... Eat Me

Veronikka of the Black Castle, or She-Whose-Heart-is-Ice, slammed back another Bloody Mary (A-) with a vengeance at the local vampire speakeasy. She had a VIP suite, of course, and an anxious adjutant pestering her with points for the following evening's annual "negotiations" and "peace talks" between them, the mysterious and elegant vampire clan, and those mangy were-shifters. Six hundred years of Halloween night meetings, and they'd never gotten anywhere! Each side refused to budge (as vampires should, anyway) and there never was any peace. Just an annual squabble- sometimes a food fight with goblets and blood and raw steaks flying from all sides- disgraceful. Veronikka shuddered. She'd lost a gorgeous snow-white silk cape during that hot mess. Dying it red hadn't covered the ugly dark brown stain, and she was still bitter about it.

Even if the silk lingerie she had cut from the usable swaths of the dyed cloth looked fabulous on her.

The adjutant blathered on, begging for attention, repeating grand sentiments of "the tremendous importance of this event in vampire-were relations" like it were a mantra, and the vampire queen sighed.

"How old are you?" She asked in a blasé tone. Her assistant looked startled. If he were not already as pale as moonlight, she would've seen the color drain from his face.

"Um, nearly two hundred years, your Unholiness." Veronikka assessed him slowly. He wore a black suit with a tailcoat. Black collared dress shirt and even a ruffled cravat, like he was cosplaying a vampire.

"Bernard, with all due..." her face contorted slightly as she examined her sentiments for the man- "regard, I've been alive for 777 years. These talks have never produced any meaningful results for either side, and only serve to fuel our rivalry with the weres year after year. At most, I would say perhaps they give us an outlet to snipe at each other and avert an all-out war, which is not quite peace, but might be the best that we can manage."

"Well- but-" he faltered. He so badly wanted to believe in the dream, she could see and sense. Many years ago, she seemed to recall having felt the same way, especially as a young queen.

"But nothing!" She brandished a finger. "Our sides have made the same arguments every single year, and they never change. They want us cease looking at all weres as ill-behaved, unwanted pets, and we want them to stop pissing and shitting all over our perfectly manicured gardens. They don't like how quickly we can catch, consume, and turn our human prey, and we don't like being bowled over by raging furballs during leisurely strolls under the blood moon. We simply do not get on!"

Why would they keep wasting so much time and effort every year on this? What was the damn point?

"Bernard..." Veronikka sighed, signaling for another drink. The barman who kept the VIP lounge flowing with booze and blood nodded, and started crafting another crimson cocktail by squeezing the contents of a blood bag into his Boston shaker. "Just make sure the catering is top-notch, and this year... maybe some party games. Bobbing for raccoons for the mutts. Our side can play Parcheesi for all I care."

Well, the stuffy little vampire adjutant could not believe his ears.

"My Lady..." he breathed, clutching his notes. "This event is one of the most important on the vampire's social calendar! Scrapping with the werewolves is practically our most beloved cultural pastime."

"And it's dreadfully boring after so long, Bernard!" Her drink arrived, and she lifted it to her perfect lips for a long draft. In gulping the liquid, half the glass vanished down her throat before she set it back to the gleaming ebony bartop. "I've lived seven centuries and nothing has ever improved! We waste the most perfect night of the year on our squabbles when we could be out carousing, drinking blood, raising Hell!" She sighed deeply, and drank just as deeply. There was a long pause until she set the glass down, an inch or two left at the bottom. "Humans may change, you silly little man, but we cannot change our fangs and our rivals cannot change their fur. We've all gotten stuck in our petty squabbles instead of working for something grand. What would we even do? World domination, perhaps?" She slammed back the rest of her drink, licking her lips with relish, and returned the glass, empty of any drop.

"Our noble elders have often pursued the art of conquest..." Bernard began eagerly, but Veronikka placed her finger rather tetchily over his mouth.

"And failed, for millennia! Some goody goody always interferes, the effort is wasted, and the humans carry on building their bloody giant glass towers, incinerating each other, and making fools of themselves on video recording! Truth is, if we really wanted to conquer the world, we would have done it by now."

Finally, the adjutant appeared to have been flustered into silence. She stared him down, his complexion getting redder and redder until he finally cleared his throat.

"Um... Parcheesi, my Lady?" Bernard asked sheepishly.

"No, not that." She sighed. "But perhaps something vintage we haven't done in some time. Our clan will no doubt enjoy a little novelty in retro ironic pastime. A séance of the Victorian variety, perhaps a game of naked twister set to that dreadfully upbeat Disco music- it'd be funny."

Veronikka of the Black Castle shoved her chair back from the bar and planted pencil-thin stiletto heels on the ground. The black velvet mermaid dress she wore had a slit that went all the way up to her hip, nothing beneath the material. A wine-red waist cincher emphasized her hourglass figure. Platinum blonde hair hung to her hips, one sweep hanging over the side of her face. A black tiara of fine metalwork gleamed on her forehead, a single dangling ruby hung right below her third eye. A true vision of supernatural beauty, Queen of her clan; totally fed up with immortality and its immense boredom.

Hours before she was scheduled to return to her manor, dubbed "the black castle" due to its grand construction and coal-black shade, Veronikka set off. She couldn't stand wading through the tedium anymore, and intended to get home, run herself a hot bath, and perhaps indulge in one of those fluffy rom-coms the mortals churned out like mad. It would take far too much of any alcohol to get her drunk, but she might just try. Hopefully she had enough Champagne stashed away.

***

Without ever dreaming the owner was already on her way back from the pre-conference planning session, five figures had stumbled upon the manor she called home with mischievous intent, bottles of their own strong spirits down their gullets and clutched in their meaty paws. Werewolves all- quintuplets, as a matter of fact- one single litter of males almost one hundred and twenty-five years old. Despite their vitality and decades of life, though, they still behaved like they were at war with the frat house across the quad.

Armed with rolls of TP and bright cotton-candy pink glitter, they thought they'd pull the ultimate prank on the bloodsucker Queen by creating a massive nuisance and humiliating the prissy b with the sheer annoyance. She'd never be able to get that glitter completely out of her mansion, and everyone from the ghosts to the ghouls knew she had a very strict color scheme for everything.

Last-born (and most sensible) brother Flint hadn't drunk nearly as much as the others, and was the only one who had largely full control of his faculties. He thought the entire enterprise was a foolish waste of time and pocket money, but his brothers were laughing, and they all did resent the damn bloodsuckers, so he tried to get over it. After all, if they pulled it off, they would go down in werewolf history as the lads who pranked the Queen of the fangbangers! That was enough impetus to go along, despite his lack of enthusiasm.

The manor occupied by their rival leader was a Victorian Gothic monstrosity complete with spires, gargoyles, and even a turret with a widow's walk. If it weren't painted pure obsidian black with the occasional silver-gray accent, he'd call it gaudy.

Rex picked the lock on the imposing structure's scullery door, where none of them expected to find heavy security, being a servant's entrance. Once they were in, snickering like mad, the consensus was easily reached to start in the uppity vampire's personal boudoir. Imagine, her sheets filled with glitter! Every single drawer, closet, and wardrobe filled with sparkling Barbie pink glory!

They were practically falling all over themselves laughing. Rex (3rd born) and Inigo (4th) both had massive backpacks absolutely stuffed to the gills with the pestilent powder, and the only real obstacle was navigating the expansive manor to find her damn bedroom to begin with.

The vampiric clan leader had rooms upon rooms, at least four floors, with vast wealth easily displayed all around them. The halls were lined with huge paintings and intricate sculpture work, some of which the five wolves recognized as famous artists' work. They all scoffed, sneering at the seemingly insecure overcompensation in Veronikka's décor. There wasn't even anyone else living in this massive place! What did she need all the space for?!

"You know, I thought this place would smell like rotten blood and musty dead air," Duke (2nd born) quipped, snickering as he checked doors. The ground floor was just a large foyer, some kind of grand dining room, and a ballroom. They'd gotten through that quick enough and hit the second floor. So far it was just a humungous library and a laboratory. They'd have to keep going up. "Weird but it smells kind of nice in here."

"So she keeps her manor clean and presentable," Brodie (the firstborn and their de facto 'leader') said, taking a swig of the high-proof whiskey he favored as he prowled forward. The group ascended the staircase up, leaving the rows upon rows of bookshelves behind, all of which would no doubt suffer a very sound glittering. "Her boudoir is probably the whole top penthouse of this huge fucking palace. We should go straight to the top."

"Yeah, that's probably where the real party is," Rex muttered in agreement.

All five climbed, sniffing, peeping through the doorways at each landing. The higher they went, the more perplexed they grew. The entire manor was empty of life. There weren't even servants. It was possible Veronikka's entire delegation was out with her wherever the vamps congregated to talk strategy, but as the guys explored, it became more and more obvious to them that there weren't nearly as many individuals' scents clinging to the place to begin with.

The most pervasive scent had to be the clan leader herself. Other than that, there were only a handful of other bloodsuckers who seemed to ever come in this place, and even then, the traces of odor left behind were faint. They didn't show up often.

"What the hell?" Flint muttered as they hit the fifth floor where the stairs ended, and the most potent levels of a decidedly fruity scent lingered. The more he breathed it in, the more it cut the already low levels of alcohol in his system. It was pomegranate, amber, vanilla. A heady, sweet, spicy smell with a touch of musk. It went straight to his cock, and alarm bells started going off in the back of his mind. "Guys..." he began tentatively.

"Not now, Flint," Brodie shushed. "This is definitely it. I smell vamp all over this floor." Excited, maybe not understanding why, Brodie took off, and the three brothers in between him and Flint all howled at the adrenaline of the chase, following with hasty steps after.

Flint, wearing khaki shorts, barefoot, no shirt, stood there pushing his glasses up his nose, letting the shock ease over his body. He took several deep breaths, sucking as much of that smell into his lungs as he could. They were in trouble, now. How the fuck was he gonna get them out of there before the rest of them realized? His nose led him directly from her personal parlour toward her actual private room, where his brothers had invaded and were all snickering like hyenas. They prowled the space in its enormity, from giant walk-in closet, to spacious personal en suite bathroom complete with claw-foot antique tub, and finally, her massive four-poster King size bed.

"I thought the bats all slept in their coffins," Inigo chuckled. "Shouldn't she live in a musty basement crypt, lying in a box of soil from her birthplace, like all the books say?"

"Those are just the stories vampires leaked to humans to make them think their kind weren't real," Flint answered in a snappish tone. "They're not dead bodies come back to life, either. They're basically humanoid vampire bats," he irritably told them all. "We need to get out here."

"What's the rush?" Duke asked, annoyed by his younger littermate. "We haven't even dumped the glitter yet."

"Why the sudden whining, Flint?" Brodie questioned, using his 'alpha voice' to put an edge on the query. "We came here with a purpose. You thought it was funny an hour ago!"

Flint growled a little. "Yes, and it is funny, but new information has come up-" he started, but his brother cut him off.

"If it's still funny, then it doesn't matter what you sniffed out unless it's that we've got incoming bloodsuckers," Brodie dismissed him. Flint huffed.

"No, but..."

"But nothing!" Their small pack "alpha" said. "I don't care what it is. We came to prank this prissy bitch, and we're gonna do it. Either help out or shut up."

"You don't care, no matter what?" The pedantic youngest brother asked, frowning. Brodie shook his head. The young, ginger brother turned to the rest. "None of you care what I was gonna say?"

Rex, Inigo, and Duke all darted eyes to their first born brother, and saw the steely look on Brodie's face. They mirrored the head shake. Flint folded his arms across is chest.

"Fine then. But when shit hits the fan, just remember I tried to warn you all." Flint stepped back, and just waited for all of them to discover they were mutually doomed, and that their entire known existence was about to be drastically altered. He had no fucking idea what was going to happen as a result, he just knew that were-shifters and vampires were never gonna be the same.

He watched, and waited for the moment.

Brodie finished examining the bougie bitch's digs, and turned his attention to the massive black four-poster bed. It had a wispy black canopy that drew closed, and black silk sheets. His mouth practically watered thinking about her in that bed, possibly naked, rolling around in pink glitter... and then he forgot the pink glitter altogether, just thinking about Veronikka's pale skin and lithe figure nude, kissed by black silk, and he blinked. What was that? Didn't matter. He shook it away, and motioned for the glitter.

"Rex-" he called. The dashing third born with the long curly hair brandished the backpack filled with an industrial sized bag of glitter, and he stepped forward. He unzipped the sack and took out the pink offering with reverence, ready to tear it open and hand it over. Brodie pulled the covers off the bed.

The wave of scent unleashed into the room caused all of them to freeze in their tracks. Flint was able to take it better than the others, as he'd already embraced the oncoming realization it entailed. He sucked as much of the scent up as possible, feeling the rush in his groin. Flint groaned, and fought not to stagger at the power of the smell.

"Holy shit," Duke's voice floated through the room. "Smells so good in here."

Brodie stood rooted in place, panting and heaving as his body reacted. Rex dropped the backpack, stricken. Inigo moaned, hunching over in the walk-in closet, the delicious smell clinging to her gowns too much for him. Duke had taken interest in a chaise lounge Veronikka must spend a lot of time on, likely in the buff.

The eldest brother fell to his knees in the bed, grabbing her pillow and burying his face in it. His keen nose picked up the same notes of scent: Pomegranate, amber, and vanilla- a combination that made him feel ravenous and drunker than the whiskey he'd been slugging. He fell into the bed and wanted to strip himself completely to feel the sensation of silk on his bare skin, to know he was naked lying where she'd been naked.

"Fuuuuck," Rex groaned, feeling his natural temperature rise even hotter. "Anybody else feel so horny right now?" His body was burning, his cock thickening for no reason he could understand. He wanted to claw off his basketball shorts and tank top, then spend his load all over Veronikka's sheets, her pillows, into her shampoo(!), and if she were to walk into this bedroom right now, all over her pretty pretty face.

Inigo stumbled into one of the velvety dresses hung up with care in the vampire vixen's closets, yanked it off its hanger, and pressed it to his bare chest. His tee shirt lay discarded on the floor, torn off in haste. The soft, smooth garment was cool to his body, and gave him a delightful frisson on sensitized skin. Would Veronikka herself feel this soft against him, under him?

"What the fuck is going on?" Duke slurred, rolling himself on the chaise. He could picture her bent over it or on her hands and knees, ass in the air, as he stood behind her and buried himself into her tight sheath over and over.

"Don't you idiots get it?" Flint threw out there, watching his brothers succumbing to their instincts. "That scent! She's our fucking mate! And now it's too late to avoid the bond because you wouldn't listen to me!"

At once, they howled. The truth broke over them all, and without another moment of thought, they each surrendered to their natural responses. Clothes burst and fell away as their bodies thickened, and fur sprouted from their limbs. Ripples of their transformation shuddered through all five of them, causing them to collapse on whatever surface they were near as bones snapped to reform, and features distorted.

Veronikka herself pulled up in her jet-black sports car and was climbing out of it when she heard the howls, and she hissed, slamming the car door shut.

"Every fucking year the mutts roam around unchecked, tearing up my gardens and shitting everywhere," she groused, shouldering her purse and marching into the manor before she could be caught unawares by rival creatures of the night.

Once inside, she locked it all up and paused to check the time. Just after midnight, so officially All Hallows Eve, but far far earlier than any vampire ever hung up their keys for the night on goddamn Halloween morning. Veronikka huffed, and walked straight to the hidden elevator on the bottom floor of her home. She had it for direct access to all levels of her manor, and used it for dramatic entrances when she was hosting meetings or fêtes. It was cleverly built into the "staging" area of the ballroom and covered by tapestries. Sliding past the heavy woven antiques, she pressed the button, and the doors slid open.

Once inside, she selected "Penthouse" and waited for the smooth ride to the top, imagining a hot bath and some mindless entertainment, perhaps a long session with her massive toy collection (bless the humans for vibrators!), and then bed by daybreak. She did not expect the sight that would greet her when she reached the top, and though her senses were normally sharp, booze and blasé had dulled any care she had for paying attention to the state of the house.

Nothing ever changed, so she expected no change. No excitement. No surprises.

The elevator chimed when it reached her private floor, and as it settled into place a moment before the door opened, Veronikka thought she heard a growl. Her mouth twisted down. Odd. She hoped it wasn't the elevator, but it didn't sound like failing machinery, and she was positively anal about maintenance.

The door slid open with a chime, and the vampire queen stepped one perfectly manicured foot out to the immediate, shocking sight of... one-two-three-four-five FIVE furry, bulky, nude wolfmen in her goddamn boudoir! Before she could even get out of the elevator screaming "What in the hell are you doing here!" They turned, snarling and salivating like wild beasts. Which they were, of course.

Veronikka stumbled, suddenly terrified. Her enemies had finally given up the pretense of peace talks and had chosen all-out war! She'd fight, but she'd still be torn apart by the rage of these wolf-men, and that was the start of the conflict they'd skirted for centuries. She gulped, falling into a fighting stance, ready to go down swinging. She could lure them closer and attempt a mind control (if they were smart enough to have a mind to control), perhaps flash that stretch of leg to distract them.

The moment the vampiress was within their sights, the quintuplets let out another unearthly howl. They rushed toward her, and no fewer than three furred and clawed arms yanked her out of the elevator and took her right off her heels. Veronikka screamed, wriggling in their grip, but they threw her to the rumpled sheets on the bed, descending as a pack. At first she thought they meant to tear right into her with their teeth and claws, but to her surprise, there was no pain at all. Instead...

Five blazing hot beings- shaped like men with bulky upper bodies, powerful bipedal legs, wolf heads, and covered in fur- pinned her down. Their heat scorched her cool skin, right through her clothes, and two of them wrestled her legs as she kicked out. Shrieking and cursing at them, she fought, but they just kept her pinned. They tore off her stilettos. Fine, they were pointed as hell and could've blinded them. Sure. Two others held her arms in place, and then she couldn't move. They were so strong! Veronikka knew it was going to take a hell of an effort to break away, and in her panic, she forgot to compel or charm them, instead caught up in tossing out insults.

The biggest one, a dark blond color of fur, shaggy and panting, was between her captured legs. He stared her down, panting hard, as twisted, huge hands tipped with deadly claws began to slide up her pale gams and under her dress.

"Hey what the hell!" She called out, snarling. "This is designer label!" At least they could spare her the indignity of destroying one of her favorite pieces before they killed her.

You heard the girl, a voice laughed in her head. Don't wreck her pretty clothes while we get our fill.

"What the fuck-!" she cried, jolting. The wolf between her thighs appeared to be whuffing in amusement, hunger glittering in his eyes as he pushed the fabric of her skirt up her body. Why would he project his voice to her mind to tear her apart?

Lift her up, somebody else spoke, making the hands keeping her in place readjust to raise her weight. Her head snapped back and forth, watching each of them act. We need to strip her anyway. Fuck, I can't believe this.

A wolf man with gingery-brown fur and glasses (Glasses? Really?) snorted from her left arm, gently keeping his claws from her flesh as he eased it through the sleeve. One of the others (ebony black fur with distinct wavy curls) carefully undid her waist cincher, picking at the ties with his nails until it opened up and they could get it off.

By then, Veronikka realized something was amiss here. "What the fuck is going on?" She demanded, rearing upward, only to be flattened out again with some force, her dress stripped from her torso in an upward motion. She gasped, her body bare to the chill air in her room, counterbalanced with the intense heat of them. The blond one moved the crotch of her lacy panties aside and immediately buried his nose- cold and wet as it was- into her pussy. She cried out.

Shut up, bloodsucker, another one tittered. It's too late. We're all stuck with it, so let us have fun and you're going to have fun, we promise.

Feeling like she was going insane, Veronikka examined all five of these wolves as the big one pushed his snout right between her pussy lips and took huge whuffs of air, growling softly, whining and moaning. Could canids moan? The vampire took notice of how the men were wrapped around her legs, humping them- oh damn, humping her with huge cocks while a large, agile tongue pushed itself deep into her slit. She cried out, feeling intense heat sweep through the core of her pussy as the shifter filled her completely with just his tongue. It curled and twisted in ways no toy or cock ever could, hitting all her needy spots.

No male has tasted, touched, or filled this tight snatch of yours in quite some time, have they? You taste almost virginal, bloodsucker. Fuck, so creamy and tart and good.

Much to her extreme embarrassment, Veronikka felt her cunt clenching down on his tongue, her juices flowing from the stimulation. He delved his clever tongue in and out of her quickly, lapping it up. Two more of the agile appendages settled down on her nipples the second her bra was unclasped- causing her to gasp. The gingery one and the black one, devouring her breasts with rapturous zeal. She felt her legs bending as two wolves with different shades of brown fur settled between them alongside their pack-mate, and eagerly they both dove down.

The bodacious blood-drinking babe shrieked again as the blond wolf's tongue was joined by another's, the two of them working in conjunction with each other, twisting and pulsing inside her deliciously as the third lapped her clit. In his mid-transformed state, he lacked the lip construction to suck her little bud, but his wolf jaw enabled him to keep licking at a quick pace for as long as he wanted.

Caught up in the sudden, explosive pleasure of five tongues on her most sensitive parts, Veronikka easily and almost immediately broke. Her pussy contracted, bursting into surprising waves of ecstasy that hit faster than any of them expected.

Shit, she feels it too, she heard, and amidst her screams of orgasm she thought it came from the ginger one. Sweet little bloodsucker queen, already coming for her werewolf mates.

"MATES?" She cried, another peak blindsiding her as those five wolfmen refused to stop eating her alive. They licked her until she climaxed multiple times, each one building on the back of the previous pinnacle. Flint gave up ravaging her breast to press his snout to her mouth, licking deep between her lips, offering a 'kiss' unlike any other she'd ever felt. She moaned on his enormous tongue, practically swallowing it against her reflexes otherwise. Unable to fight the sheer intensity of her pleasure, she succumbed to the werewolf's possessive kiss, her thighs quaking as she came again from the relentless torture of her clit.

Knees, Brodie growled to all five of them. Get her on her knees. We have to mount her now, before she tries to reject the bond.

Reject? Bond? Veronikka knew that werewolves took mates, but never that anybody but a shifter wolf could be mated, and certainly not that those bonds were apparently involuntary or could be rejected. They forced her to keep cumming until the very moment they flipped her over, forcing her shaky body to put the weight on her knees and forearms. Her cunt was still pulsing, flooded with arousal, and she was desperate to have the ache burning there eased. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she probably should reject them. But how? She didn't even know their names.

A tug in her soul pointed out something, as well. She'd lamented to Bernard that nothing ever changed, and lo! She'd walked into a roomful of sudden change and great excitement. Her pulse was racing, her pussy was throbbing, and her mind and soul were on fire.

Before a word of protest or encouragement could slip between her lips, Brodie docked himself at the parting of her cunt and shoved himself deep.

Veronikka of the Black Castle jumped, moaning loudly, taking his inhumanly long, glistening red cock all the way into her core. Werewolf cock had some human characteristics when in wolf or half-wolf form, including the normal girth and distinct separation of head and shaft. However, it was also deep red, with a pointed tip, and of course...

Brodie gave a few thrusts and knotted almost immediately, swelling to the size of a softball in the vampire's beautifully tight, unclaimed cunt. Veronikka shrieked again.

"Oh my Dark Lord, what is that?" She cried out. The sudden expansion had filled her to absolutely bursting, and she realized quickly that the blond wolf was firmly stuck inside her. He let out a husky chuff, laughing at her, and his voice echoed in her mind.

My knot. It only happens when we fuck our mates, and it means we just keep cumming inside them until they get throughly bred with a litter of pups.

Veronikka squirmed, burying the incredible swollen invasion even further into her channel, reeling from its mix of pleasure and pain. She sucked air through clenched teeth. "I can't have pups, you bastard!" She told him. "Female vampires don't have heats or menses. We're not even compatible!"

Guessing it doesn't really matter, the gentle voice told her. We smelled you as our mate. It's not something we can fight. You can only accept it, or... not. There was sadness in his voice, and the ginger one caressed her hair. She was level with all their cocks in her pose, and shuddered at the sight of them. They were so different from a regular human's cock, or even a vampire's. Especially since they were in wolfman form. Unlike the rest of their bodies, which were covered in fur, their dicks were smooth, and glistened enticingly in the glow of her low-light electric torches.

Brodie hammered her with his knotted dick, causing her to howl. Dare you to reject us, bloodsucker, he taunted, his teasing tone hiding his fear she would. Veronikka just moaned, overcome with the sensory firestorm in her cunt. In all her years of life, even when she'd had lovers, it was never like this. Never like being fucked by a baseball bat!

Without sense in her head, Veronikka perched on her elbows and lifted her hands, wrapping each one around one of the inhumanly large, uniquely shaped cocks in her face at the same time as she swallowed the ginger one's shaft without warning. Rex, Inigo, and Flint all let loose howls of surprise as she began working them over, and Duke hastily took place at Brodie's side, positioning himself into a contortion that only a wolf could do- he slid into her asshole with shocking ease and knotted, then flipped himself around so that his cock remained rooted in her hole, but twisted under and behind his body, which they could only do shifted. Veronikka screamed, her mouth stuffed with Flint's prick, hands working twin shafts from Rex and Inigo. Inigo was a deep golden brown furred beast, and the other brunet one now fucked her ass, filling her so intensely she thought she might burst.

"Ahhh, fuck! I've never been so FULL!" She broke from Flint's cock to yell out, then greedily fell back to slurping him up, tasting the warning hint of his semen as salty fluid struck her tongue. Inigo was enjoying her grip so much, he did spurt a little, right on her face as he'd earlier imagined.

In her holes, guys, it's got to be in her holes, Brodie warned, his breath choppy as he thrusted against her backside. Duke, twisted around the other way with his knot firmly buried in her asshole, got the benefit of his motion, and their swollen flesh rubbed back and forth inside her in conjunction. If he came in her ass, it would cement the bond to Veronikka, but if Flint came down her throat, it would still need to be sealed in her ass or pussy. Cumming on her face would mark her beautifully, but it wasn't over until each one of them had knotted into an intimate orifice.

Brodie and Duke fucked her so hard she couldn't hold herself up, so they did it for her, Duke reaching between her thighs to find that nicely reactive clit of hers. He began stroking with his knuckles, tucking his claws against his palms so he didn't tear her lips or clit with them. That was for pleasure, not destruction.

As soon as Veronikka choked on Flint because climax tore her apart on two knots, Brodie and Duke unleashed their seed. Each of them tilted their heads back and howled as they flooded her holes with jets of semen. Brodie bathed her cervix with his cream, sending a small army of sperm rushing toward her womb, whether or not they could create any pups there. The men kept filled her with cum until it began to bloat her up, oozing from around the tight seals their knots created in her.

"It's coming out!" The vixen hollered, totally crazed as they pumped such a huge amount of liquid in her body. No mere mortal could ever hope to ejaculate that copiously! There was so much slick cum, it lubed them up enough to allow them both to rip their knots out of her, still shooting streams of cum on her ass and back. Veronikka wailed, rippling with pain as they broke free of her snug holes. She also felt strangely bereft of their invasions, but did not have to wait long. Flint, Rex, and Inigo abandoned her front, leaving their brothers to scoop her up and hold her as they finished ejaculating on her face, her tits, in her hair, all over her immaculate black silk bed. Flint took her ass, Rex and Inigo pulling her on top of them so they could each spear her cunt, all three of them knotting into her instantly.

The first time mating your bonded- for male wolves- was always done in wolfman form. Their bodies transformed instinctively, and the moment they entered the vagina or anus of their mate, they knotted. Filling their mate with semen was imperative. It cemented the bond and made a rejection much harder, as every drop of sperm taken filled their mate with intense lust and feelings of affection. It kept mated packs of wolf shifters very happy, especially because werewolves always mated two or more males to a single female. Female pups also tended to be rarer.

Those facts did make the quints' mating of a vampire statistically unlikely and world-shaking, but as they fucked their mate, all five of them began to see the wisdom in it. Mating a vampire, even if she couldn't bear them pups, would put an end to the rivalry of their clans.

Flint groaned as he felt her extremely tight asshole expand around him, and his brother's cum gave him some ease to actually thrust. Much needed considering the two that had knotted her cunt, expanding her well beyond the normal capacity of that muscular channel that dripped for them, and was soaked in werewolf cum. Veronikka gulped down trickled streams of whatever remained in Brodie and Duke's balls, her body possessed and taken to its limits for the first time in her entire immortal life.

The three brothers still buried inside her began thrusting relentlessly, eager to cum and seal their bond to her as well. The way Rex and Inigo's shafts were angled rubbed right up against Veronikka's clit, pinching it from both sides and driving her wild. It didn't take long before she was climaxing violently on the pricks of unknown mutts who had invaded her home and began fucking her without warning. The ancient, powerful woman that she was loved every second of their claiming, relishing the way they made her feel ravaged and relished.

Three members of her enemy clan pounded her until she thought she'd split open, their knots putting pressure on every single sensitive spot in or on her. She felt the contractions of her cunt trying to swallow them up, her entire body humming with pleasure. The other two were finally spent, giving her wolfman kisses and molesting her overlarge tits. When the trio started cumming in her, she felt each hot stream like a firehose swelling her belly with liquid, until she felt positively stuffed to the gills with cream, like a damn donut.

She didn't want it to ever stop.

Felix, Rex, and Inigo howled as their jizz overflowed her twat, and they were fucking pure liquid. She'd expanded so much she looked pregnant, a little belly swelling up on her body, covered with cum. The wolves stroked her plump bump, muttering to themselves about siring pups on her one way or another. Enough semen, and maybe anything was possible!

When the guys' knots finally couldn't hold any more and slid out, Brodie refused to let her lose their entire collected load. He jammed his fist in her cunt and instructed his brothers to find the sex toys they could smell hidden in the room- to use anything they had on hand to plug up her ass and pussy.

Scrambling, they did. Veronikka kept all her favorite silicone toys in drawers under the bed, handy for her usage, and she had some... elaborate options.

Horny bloodsucker, aren't you? Brodie asked in their mental conversation. Tell us the truth now. How long has it been since a male anything has touched you?

"About a hundred years," Veronikka admitted, whimpering as she felt them stuffing her up with some of her largest toys- an overly sized butt plug in her backside and a huge, knotted dildo she'd never been able to fully take in her twat. She screamed as they shoved both inside her with no hesitation at all. Not the least of the surprises today was how easily they'd stuffed her ass and claimed it. Granted, she was far more resilient than a mortal, but still. Vampires shed their body waste as liquid, so her human digestive tract hadn't had to work much in a very long time.

Why so long? Asked Duke, his wolfish face still showing him quirk an eyebrow. In wolf or wolfman form, weres couldn't speak normally, but they still had plenty of noises and expressions. You're the vampire QUEEN. You could have any mortal or immortal you wanted.

"I got immensely bored," she told them sulkily. "Vampires can live centuries, or millennia! After decades or more of blood-fueled orgies, you sample every kink and configuration without ever getting truly nasty, and it's all the bloody same!" She finally saw her own distended belly, and gasped. That was something she'd never seen before. There was a whole lot of chuffing as they watched her face. Wolf laughter.

So how do you feel now, mate? Inigo teased. Still bored? His tongue, like his cock, lolled heavily as he looked her over. He, Rex, and Flint had spent the majority of their seed inside her, causing the swelling they were all enjoying the sight of. But all five of them knew they would recover quickly, and fill her more. A first mating often went all night long.

"No," Veronikka answered, herself surprised to say it. "I'm... astonished. And not as disgusted as I thought I should be, given that I've been besmirched by a bunch of shaggy mutts." More chuffing, and growly titters.

You liked it, Rex taunted her. You loved it. You came so easily for a bunch of shaggy mutts' tongues and cocks, and you're not done yet. We've got plenty of fucks for you, bloodsucker!

They swarmed her again. Veronikka moaned breathily, her body quivering from the pressure between her thighs. Still doing their husky canid version of chuckling, they shook her hips, patting at the liquid swelling of her stomach.

What do you guys think? Brodie asked gleefully. About three months? There were excited echoes of agreement. Think we can flood her so much she looks nine?

The vampire groaned, unable to move. They split her legs with no resistance and feasted upon her, laving at her clit with their tongues, attacking her nipples- shoving their tongues down her throat with their unusual savage 'kisses.' The huge toy in her cunt was all the way to the hilt, her pussy protesting but still holding fast. One of them whacked at the bottom of it, making it jolt in her as two or three of them flicked her clit with their hot pink tongues. It was almost too much, but there was nothing she could do or wanted to do to stop them. She came for them again, stuffed far too full, belly expanded on their pure semen. Veronikka could feel the climax rippling through the liquid trapped in her quim, and she felt the overpowering pressure on her bladder. None of it mattered, and none of it was heeded.

They kept forcing her to come, until finally they were all ready to fill her again.

The need to mate was far less pressing now. The bond was in place, and Veronikka was as good as theirs. She had not rejected or protested their claim, and when they all put a mating mark on her, that would be it.

Flint went first this time, ripping the toy out of her pussy lightning fast so he could replace it before her body shot out the cream. He fucked ruthlessly until his knot formed bigger and harder, and fucked faster still to make himself shoot deep into her hole, right at the mouth of her womb. The pointed tip of his cock fitted directly into the small hole of her cervix, and he pushed deeper. Veronikka screamed, a beautiful unholy wail as Flint did the inhumanly possible: He opened her cervix and pushed past it, into her proper womb, and immediately began filling it with his seed. Panting on top of Veronikka as his brothers held her legs open, he lay between her thighs, pulsing huge jets of cum fully into her bare reproductive system. The others made her climax on the insane invasion, and the vampire minx strangled on her own screams. Flint silenced her with his tongue, tangling with hers, and let every single spurt of his cum fill her up.

Holding her hips aloft, he squeezed, trying to keep a tight seal of her pussy around his cock. In full knot, a male wolf could stay lodged for forty-five minutes or more, giving off cum. He wasn't going to move until the process was done, however long it took, and all four of his brothers would do the exact same. She was kept in neverending climax for every single second of thick jizz filling her womb, until she felt as though her teeth were afloat.

Veronikka lay unable to move, paralyzed by the intensity of the pain, yet soothed by the incredible rapture of so many prolonged and forced orgasms. She was a helpless prisoner of their lusts, burning to death with passion.

Flint lay atop her growling and snapping while he continued to fill and expand her belly. When her womb overflowed with his cum, it remained gathered with the rest and pushed outwards, making her mound puff up, then her stomach. Her vampire power kept her in a state of healing, so their rapid, unnatural expansion didn't rupture her; she just adapted. Everything seemed to swell. Within her body, hidden by her flesh, the over abundance of cum caused her uterus to grow. It stretched and pushed outward just like a pregnancy would, effectively making her pregnant with cum. By shoving past her cervix, Flint had expedited the process enormously.

Agonizing minutes passed as Flint's seed poured into her. A male werewolf could ejaculate as much as 100mL, far beyond that of a mortal, and even male vampires. And they about doubled what a human could shoot.

Did you know that when knotting, we can give off up to 20 times more semen than the average mortal? Just a few shots from each of us, right in the core of your body, and you'll be holding every single drop. We'll swell you up and plug you with a huge round belly! The man atop her was gleeful as he spent every last squirt of his cream. Every single one of them dumping a full load on top of what was already in her (plus maybe a couple more) would give her the rotund appearance of a full-term pregnancy.

Mmm, imagine we ride her into the meeting like that, Inigo spoke huskily. Looking like our plaything, stuffed with cum. The indignation would be hilarious!

Even Veronikka couldn't help squealing a laugh through her climaxes, so overstuffed it sent a wobbly wave through her stomach. She warbled another moan. She imagined the look on Bernard's face if his Queen showed up at the "very important peace talks" not only mated to a group of weres, but with a belly swollen up with their sperm! It seemed like the most thrilling idea, actually. Nothing would turn centuries of progress-less effort on its head like a visual tableaux of taboo copulation and impossible reproduction! It would be absolutely delicious. Now that would be entertainment!

"Yessssss," she hissed. "Let's crash our own damned event with the scandal of the century! Bloat my womb and give me the hot cream from your balls until I swell so full they'll believe the impossible!"

Another chorus of howls resounded. The mating was solid, and as Flint lifted Veronikka's hips, his knot finally faded. There was a lot of quick maneuvering to beat the rush of fluid from escaping her cunt, but Inigo got there, plunging and knotting right in turn.

Veronikka endured their grueling gauntlet of hours, taking their long bouts of knotting and spurting until she was expanded to a full bloat of belly. Each wolf forced the tip of his cock into her cervix, each time a little easier in as she was opened up. Their cum built, stretching her organ with their thick, silky fluid all the way up into her ovaries. If she had any eggs to impregnate, she would be knocked up five different ways by then!

After several knottings, the guys pulled back to check their results. Veronikka's pussy was closed up with her toy, and just to be extra sure, they strapped the dildo in place with a leather crotch harness. Veronikka struggled to stand, but insisted they take her to the mirror. Walking was nearly impossible with a fake cock and knot splitting her sore pussy to stay lodged inside, but she had to see.

By the time they made it to the mirror, Veronikka was so excited, body still trilling with arousal. This was the most marvelous thing that had happened to her in centuries! In her reflection she was going to see something truly impossible for her kind.

The wolfmen around her held her in place, and in the glass, she saw it. Her stomach, expanded far beyond the normal size on her slim frame. A belly, big and round, like that of an expectant mother. Delighted, she was entranced by the sight. Cupping and rubbing her stomach, she studied her profile. Finally, her tits matched.

Now that the initial mating bond had been completed, the guys were able to change themselves back, their bones and bodies shrinking. Fur receded, snouts returned to normal noses, teeth grew straight and flat. They crowded around her and covered her belly with the hands of men.

"Hey there," Brodie sang, his grin wide. "Vampire mate. We're the Darkwood quintuplets. And you're the Queen of the Damned."

"Talking now, are we?" Veronikka quipped. All of them were sinfully hot in their human guises, and interestingly enough, only carried a hint of resemblance amongst them. One of them had ginger hair, and was putting a pair of glasses back on. He had pale skin, and freckles. The blond was the speaker, and he wore a devilish grin. His eyes were warm amber, his skin more robust in tone. The others were different still- one with shoulder-length curling black-hair and a medium brown skin tone, the final two more true brunets of different shades, their naked bodies golden-kissed, hair textures wavy.

"Wolfman form doesn't exactly make speech easy," Rex joked, rubbing her stomach. "And at merely scenting our mate, we're pushed into that form for a long, intense and frenzied claiming to get her under us, knotted, and bred."

"But... I'm a vampire," she protested, moaning as they pressed closer, nibbling her neck, teasing the bites that would mark her unchanging flesh. "Forgive my indelicacy, but how the fuck did I wind up being your mate?"

"Quite frankly, we're just as confused as you are," Flint shrugged, groping one of her bountiful titties. Women built like her almost never had breasts so disproportionately huge without 'enhancements,' but Veronikka was blessed in multiple ways. He bent to suckle on the peak, pawing her heartily.

"Wait," she gasped, trying not to get lost in their hands and mouths. "Why are any of you even here?"

There was a sinister titter of laughter that floated up.

"Well..." Duke cleared his throat. He stole a look at Brodie. "We actually came here to prank you on the eve of the talks, but got caught up in mating frenzy after that."

"Well shit," Veronikka casually dropped. "I was wrong. Things really can change, even after so bloody long." The men looked confused.

"What do you mean, bloodsucker?" Inigo teased. "Everything changes constantly. You blink and the mortals have invented some new crazy thing or built a giant structure taller than the last one. Been on a roller coaster lately?"

"I think I rode that back when it first opened, and it was a bit of a novelty," she shrugged. "We run faster, jump higher, and some of us can fly, for fuck's sake."

"I think you're missing the point of what my brother is saying," Duke cut in. "If you haven't ridden a roller coaster since eighteen-eighty four, of course you haven't seen how drastically fucking different they are now. They go hundreds of feet in the air, twist upside down, have huge hills that plummet you into freefall, and wild turns. It's a different world."

"Vampires... don't change," she told them, flatly. "I've been like this for centuries, and I've watched my kind spin their wheels for just as long. And every damn year we go to these 'peace talks' on the most perfect night of the year to wreak havoc in the mortal world, and for what? It amounts to a petty sports rivalry. Even you insolent pups, coming to my home to prank me like this is high school."

The quints broke into guilty, toothed smiles.

"We'll have to admit you're right about the sports rivalry thing." Brodie copped to it.

"It seemed funny at the time," Flint deadpanned, adjusting his glasses. "But I think the more pressing question is why a pack of werewolf shifters discovered their mate in a vampire... and where the hell do we go from here?"

"Trick or treat indeed," Veronikka mused. "It's strange, isn't it? Right before our clans are to meet and feign 'discussion' for another year, when we all know we're but one 'mean mugging' away from all-out war."

"It is fucking weird," Rex agreed. "We're almost one hundred twenty-five, and since we were still in our teens, every Halloween night pretty much rolls out the same."

Shifters on one side of the room. Vampires on the other. Slinging insults, airing old grievances, refusing to forget petty slights, the usual. It was like none of them wanted anything to change.

Veronikka gasped. "My kind have a certain power... what we are capable of varies from vampire to vampire, and it's all based on our own individual will. What we want, we make happen. What we can conceive, we can create with blood magick. What we know ourselves to be, we are. I wanted things to change." She looked at them with plain astonishment in her eyes. "My will orchestrated change, not only in my life, but for all of us." She jolted forward, breaking from their grip, and turned to face them. The weight in her torso was truly astonishing, changing her very balance. She couldn't let it distract her, though.

"If I caused this just because I was bored, then I've forced us all into an unholy alliance between clans, and if I accept your mating, we'll either save our respective peoples from cutting each other's throats, or we'll kickstart the bloodbath." The guys traded looks, snickering.

"Don't be so rash, babe," one of the brunets jibed her. "Wouldn't you have had to ply your will to an intention for that to work? You didn't change our fate on a whim of ennui."

"Mates cannot be changed or just dropped on weres out of the blue," ginger boy came back into the fray. "If you are our mate, it was woven into the fabric of our birth when our parents were first mated. There's a reason you haven't taken a lover in a century." Their vampire mate bit at her lower lip with one fang, delicately.

"If you've been destined to be my mates for at least a hundred years, why hasn't it popped up before now? Surely you've been in my vicinity." The vampire Queen couldn't get beyond the stunning turn of events that saw her mated to five werewolf brothers.

"We have," Duke copped. "In crowded rooms, full of conflicting scents, far from the intimate scene we found when we crashed your palace. If we ever caught a whiff of you, it was buried beneath too many others to trigger our mating instincts."

"Now that we've filled you with seed-" Brodie lightly slapped her swollen belly with glee on his face- "It doesn't matter when, or why. It is. All we have to do is put our marks on you, and it's done."

"Is that what you guys want?" Veronikka asked, at first hesitant and then, playful. "To be mated to a bloodsucker who can't even bear you pups?"

"Try and stop us, vampire," came the rasping of Rex. "If you can live with five wild mutts, we can live with a bloodthirsty Queen of the Damned." The brothers crowded in, and gripped her body wherever they could, immobilizing her. Veronikka drew a shuddering breath and watched her distended body jiggle as they each picked a spot to bite. In order of their birth, they finally declared their names to her and bit down.

"I, Brodie, mark you as mine," said her blond. Teeth sank into her left breast, close to her heart.

"I, Duke, mark you as mine!" The brown-haired, sun-kissed second born bit her left shoulder.

"I, Rex, mark you as mine!" Raven-black curls tossed over his shoulder as he bit the right shoulder.

"I, Inigo, mark you as mine," the fourth son said, taking the right breast.

"And I, Flint, mark you as mine." The ginger one, taking her neck for his bite.

Veronikka screamed, feeling their teeth all at once. They tore their fangs into her flesh, searing a permanent claim that no wolf-shifter had ever laid on a vampire. As the bond formed, Veronikka snatched the wrist most easily accessible to her and opened her mouth. Her fangs grew, emerging sharp and gleaming from her lips. With a snarl, she brought the wrist (Flint's) to her mouth and bit down, drinking a mouthful of his rich, wild blood. Flint immediately became a presence in her mind and soul, ever more so than when they were communicating by mental link before. That was like a temporary chat. Their mark, combined with her taking their blood, created a bond alike that of creator and fledgling vampires.

The guys here would become a part of her for the rest of their lives, and that would be a very long time indeed.

In succession, Veronikka bit each of them, taking mouthfuls from the brothers, adding them to her mind. Their blood and their bites created the link from both sides, and the impossible became real.

The instant she swallowed the last of the brothers, the six of them experienced a moment where it all snapped into place, a sudden merging of their senses.

Until then, none of them had been so ever-present in each other's heads. Panting, the group looked at each other, the men cradling their mate. The vampiress groaned, her mind filled with five presences that brought chaos and unmitigated joy into the fray. To drink their blood was to take the essence of their soul and consciousnesses into herself, and the mate bond kept it from fading, as it normally would after the power in the blood was depleted.

They were all in her head now, and the novelty was exciting. Almost as exciting as the hedonistic sex they'd just had, evidence of which still swelled her belly. Veronikka reeled as they probed into her mind. The new intimacy was intoxicating, and while they were used to casually sharing thoughts, this was a permanent link for all of them.

"Holy shit," Duke reeled, feeling her as a part of him beyond any previous mind-link. "You're right there with me, bloodsucker. I've heard that the bond between a vampire and their maker is like this."

"It is," the Queen replied, reaching for their touch. "The initial creation is the most intense. Death severs the connection, but so will distance over time... and of course, a strong enough will can sever that bond as well."

"The marks on our wrists aren't fading," Inigo marveled. "Looks like you were able to claim us back."

"I took your blood, and combined the normally temporary psychic link it creates with your mate bond," she told them breathily, stroking the nearest chest. "It actually bloody worked, I'm truly surprised!"

"A wolf pack mated to the vampire Queen," Brodie marveled. "This is gonna make tonight's meeting reaaaaal interesting."

Veronikka nibbled her lip, minding her fangs. She turned back to the mirror and rubbed her perfectly manicured hand over her stomach. The overlarge cock plugging her cunt felt almost ready to pop, even despite the straps. It was damming a spill of incredible proportions, and as much as she wanted to show up to the Halloween festivities stuffed with wolf cum like an erotic piñata, she didn't think she could hold it.

The guys... chuckled. They'd heard her thoughts.

"Need some relief, Veronikka of the Black Castle?" Rex snickered evilly, his tone playfully mocking. "I think we need some proof of this epic transformation before we let you gush it all out, though. Do bloodsuckers show up on camera?"

"The whole 'no reflections' thing was always a myth," she scoffed. "Honestly, don't you mangy beasts know anything true about my kind?" She side-eyed the little pack now bound to her, smirking.

Flint picked up his phone from his torn shorts, and opened the camera on it, setting it to video. The new mental connection had given him insight into his brothers beyond their existing bonds, and it completely opened Veronikka to him. The woman was craving spark in her life, anything to make her remember the feeling of excitement and discovery. Him and his brothers' "trick" on a Halloween morning had wound up being a trick on themselves- a surprise of sweet, debauched discovery for them all, and exactly what the Queen of Vampires had wanted so desperately. They weren't just going to be a distraction, though. Nor a brief dalliance before further ennui.

"I'll bet you we know as much truth about your kind as you do ours," the ginger wolf replied. "For example, silver doesn't harm us. If you shot us with a silver bullet, sure, we'd be wounded, but silver is a softer metal anyway. It just heals and pops out. We actually like silver because it can collect moonlight." With his phone pointed at Veronikka's face, he reached out with the other hand and cupped her cheek. "Moonlight energizes and heals us. That's why full moons are always so crazy."

Veronikka held his hand over her face. "Just promise me none of you five have ever been the ones tearing up my gardens!" She joked dryly.

"No promises, babe," Brodie cheeked back. He sauntered to her and dropped his hand between her legs. "If we're going to let you unleash our cum, then we're going to enjoy the show, bloodsucker." He turned to his brothers. "Haul her to that giant ass tub of hers. Let's make her gush it all out and film it!"

The guys all loved the idea, and the group moved eagerly. Flint rolled his video, capturing the flushed face of the prissy vampire as she mewled in arousal, protesting weakly, her hips pulsing for them. Rex and Inigo wound up wrapping and arm each around her waist, supporting her slight weight and capturing her altogether. The vixen squealed as she was carried off. Flint followed the entire parade, filming. He made sure he got the perfect view of her inflated torso, smacking it and making it quake as he narrated.

"The five sons of the Dark Oak City pack have taken a little treat for themselves this year..." He spoke, the lens fully revealing Veronikka's nude glory and debauched state. The video followed the entire process to the tub, where she was placed on her feet, her arms still held open by the two brunet brothers.

She squirmed, but couldn't break free from them. The lack of power was oddly intoxicating for Veronikka, and her pussy clenched, causing some of their seed to leak out. Flint's voice continued.

"I honestly have no idea what kind of reaction we're going to get rolling into the talks with this tasty morsel wearing our mate-marks," he lightly chuckled, aiming his musing at the other guys. "But we did broker our own bit of peace between the sides, by taking Veronikka of the Black Castle as ours. Surprise!" It was like he was performing for an audience, even though it was just them, and the video was definitely going to be for their later enjoyment.

"Fuck she looks so hot with her belly all stuffed up with our cum," Brodie groaned, rubbing her distended flesh. "I'm not entirely convinced we can't get you pregnant, and I like seeing what that might look like."

"No vampire female has ever gotten pregnant since we first existed," she protested breathily. "Not from mortal nor vampire."

"No vampire female has ever been fucked and bred by a wolf pack, either," Rex hissed in agonized desire. "We're the first! And we're about to witness the proof of that breeding come flooding straight out of that cunt."

"We broke this sexy bloodsucker's one hundred year celibacy tonight," Duke snickered. "It's absolutely bonkers the vampire-fucking-Queen was untouched for so long and now mated to us!"

"I'm taking the straps off," Inigo said, voice heavy with lust. "I can't wait any longer to see the river of our jizz come pouring out!" His hands darted out, with Duke easily picking up Veronikka and keeping her trapped. She tried to bend herself in half, but that wasn't going to stop them, and it only enflamed her insides more, as the giant toy rubbed her in all the right places. The buckles were around her back, and Inigo made quick work of them. He pulled the leather away and tossed it aside.

Pressure eased in Veronikka's body, but the heavy liquid payload inside her was still plugged up. The dildo would probably pop out on its own given a minute, but she thought they'd reach up and yank it out.

"Oooh, we should make her push it out, and start the flood. Go on, you sizzling hot undead fox! Squeeze that thing out of your pussy and let our juices fly." Brodie stared, motioning Flint to come in closer with the video. He was borderline manic on the order.

"We're not undead, we're demonic!" She seethed, arousal making her fangs ache for more blood. "You damn bossy wolves, don't make me push it out..." she panted, struggling, but they wouldn't let her go.

"Do it, mate," Flint gleefully told her. "Push out the dildo and show us the strength of that pussy we conquered. It took our cocks and it'll take another round after we see the flood." The camera view zoomed slightly, framing her from about the belly to the knees, a truly erotic sight he wanted to capture forever. The full waterfall had to be immortalized.

Veronikka cried out, her head thrown back. Their playful filthiness surprised her. Her own kind enjoyed perversions of many flavors, but they always seemed to perform them with detachment and dispassion, like actors merely putting on the scenes. They hadn't had a decent orgy in centuries, and she'd stopped presiding over them ages ago. It was all too... clean! No sweat, no broken furniture, no wild hair afterwards; not even a slight stain on the fabric of the new couch.

Not these wolves. Her silk sheets were stained and smeared, the boys were all covered in fluids not their own (so was she), and everyone's hair resembled a series of small fluffy dogs after facing off with a leaf blower. They were all bitten, and she bore five new scars that would not fade. They looked and smelled of sex. Raw, unhinged sex. It was messy and real.

Veronikka bore down, squeezing her pussy muscles hard in order to push the huge toy from her twat. It was lodged deeply and thick, requiring a good bit of effort to squeeze out. When the overlarge silicone toy began to move, she was pushing it with all her might. The process was slow, but the wolves hooted, urging her on. They kept recording as the dildo emerged, wet, from her cunt. She shrieked, and it popped out of her, making a spectacular thwump as it landed in the tub. With it no longer plugging her up, the rush of fluid that poured out was a thick, frothy geyser of creamy white cascading down. Her legs were soaked. The tub was spattered with a coating of viscous cum, and the splash was so energetic it got them all, plus her floor.

The entire eruption was captured on video with the boys cheering loudly. Their heavy loads of semen gushed out of her with impressive force, and you could even seen her body deflate. The vampire's figure returned to its normal state right before their eyes. The cum pooled under her feet, and her legs were covered in it by the end of the rush. Still being held upright, Veronikka panted heavily. The bite marks throbbed; not with pain, to her surprise, but with her mates' lust at seeing her so filthy.

The last moment of the video was her looking up at the three of them not involved in holding her steady, her face pinkened as she took ragged, heavy gulps of air. Any viewer would see the arousal and dreamy release on her face.

"Fucking beautiful," Brodie sighed, reaching out to stroke her now-flat belly. "I really enjoyed seeing you all round and inflated, but covered in jizz also works."

"Somehow, we got the hottest mate of our generation," Inigo snickered.

Flint stopped his recording and put his phone aside. His face smoldered as he looked at her. "We're going to blow all the other packs out of the water with you, Veronikka of the Black Castle. Nothing's ever going to be the same."

No it wouldn't, ever again. The thought crossed her mind as they helped her rinse, getting the thick puddle of seed diluted enough to finally drain away. Hundreds of years of stagnation, washed clean, like her body and her tub.

Emerging from the bathroom refreshed, the mutts helped strip the bed clean. Quicker than Veronikka could blink, they found and replaced the sheets. After that, they swept her into the cool silk. Their bodies were hot, and hers was accustomed to a chill. The men drew her down amongst them, no qualms about taking a vampire- the vampire- in their arms.

"So, bloodsucker," Duke drawled teasingly, "How should we absolutely rock the shit out of our party later?"

The woman looked at all five of the men, older than any mortal, yet still in a world so much more vibrant than her own. She saw the marks of her fangs on them, on each one's wrist like a brand.

"I had told my adjutant to arrange some party games this year, but perhaps we can take it a step even further," she answered with a bit of a smile coming to her face. "We're already going to cause quite a stir, so why not arrive in grand style?"

She explained her idea, causing the guys to laugh uproariously. They gleefully discussed where to get supplies, and how to crash the soiree for maximum impact. In between bouts of raucous sex, of course. The brothers more than made up for her century of celibacy with repeated dickings, knotted and not, too many orgasms to count, and each one of them christening all three of her main holes. Veronikka had never felt more alive, even before she'd been turned.

They slept, but often she'd wake to a cock or two, take it, and slip back into slumber.

***

Sundown fell on Halloween evening, and the delegations of both vampire and were-shifter made their begrudging trek to the usual banquet hall; a Catholic Church that had been long abandoned and turned into a restaurant for the mortals. None of its remaining holy artifacts could damage the supernaturals who supped there after midnight. The owner had bought the place for a pittance after its disgraced head priest had been excommunicated for his blasphemies. The corrupt man's tainted energies had thoroughly sapped any of the relics left behind of their holiness- making it ideal to be purchased by an entrepreneurial ghoul with a flair for cannibal cuisine.

He didn't serve 'long pig' to the mortal clientele who dined there during the day, but sometimes he would snatch a sumptuous morsel from amongst the diners if he thought they might make a good feast for those who would come later.

The restaurant was considered neutral ground for most supernatural entities- thus, a perfect place to host the annual talks. Service to anyone not bearing fangs or claws had concluded for the night, and the establishment was now closed for a private function.

Werewolves arrived with the bare minimum of clothing they could get away with, just in case they had to shift to start a fight with the bloodsuckers. Vampires swept past the enchanted stained-glass windows (typically displaying scenes from Biblical mythology during the day, now bearing the likenesses of famous phantoms, vampires, massacres, serial killers and the like) in their finest attire. No Vampire worth their O+ arrived at any soirée looking like a peasant.

The two sides entered in different places, and were escorted to opposing sides of the room, then seated at large banquet tables. At every vampire's place, there sat a jewelled goblet of bloodwine. The werewolves tended to prefer whiskey, and drank it straight, 30 years old and smoky as Hell itself. There was one commonality between the groups, and that was a taste for raw meat. Fine steaks would be served with no accoutrements. Vampires could process nothing but blood or liquids, raw meat, and fruits. Werewolves just preferred the taste of meat above all else.

No one expected Veronikka of the Black Castle to make her entre until everyone else had already gotten at least one stiff drink into their gullet, but when three drinks had gone down and she was yet to appear, things began to grow... tense. Bernard, in his best silk shirt with matching cravat, was anxiously flitting between the banquet room and the vampires' entrance, desperate for any sign of her arrival. No matter their conversation at the bar the previous night, he never expected her to abandon the entire event! Even if she thought the entire thing pointless, to simply not show up would be thumbing her nose at their rivals, and that could be enough of a spark to set the whole thing ablaze.

It wasn't as though the wolves had all of their number, either. One of the most powerful packs of Alpha Lords was missing their five unruly sons. Naturally, it was less of a problem for their children to ditch, but the four male wolves and their mate could not fathom where their sons had gone. Normally, they never missed a chance at a free meal and the opportunity to bicker with bloodsuckers.

"Ah- perhaps we ought to eat, and afterward, we do have party games..." Bernard spoke to the crowd, their murmuring growing louder and more outraged with each minute. "I haven't the slightest idea what's keeping my Lady, but it's far past time to sink our teeth into our fine repast." The little man was trying, but he lacked the charisma and gravitas to dull the unrest in the room. "Jacques! The feast!"

Their host may have been of the reanimated dead with an insatiable hunger for human flesh, but he still had his vanity and pride. From the doorway of the kitchen, he bowed in his pre-Revolution attire, his curled wig still crisp, his decaying face masked with the visage of Louis XIV. Shortly after he disappeared into the grand kitchens, his waitstaff (other ghouls wearing raiment befitting a servant in Versailles) emerged, carrying trays with silver cloches toward the unsettled guests.

Bernard knew this would not quell tempers very long. He resisted the urge the gnaw his perfectly manicured nails, and fretted. If the Queen did not show up, he feared the barbarians would tear him to shreds. If he survived, he would never live down the humiliation of being abandoned by the Queen and left to be a chew toy for unkempt dogs.

Begrudgingly, the gathered throngs picked up their cutlery and began to eat. Even werewolves observed their table manners at high society functions; they still cut into the meat like they were tearing it with their claws. If they wanted to scandalize the vamps, they would absolutely pick it up and eat it with their hands, ripping into it with teeth like the wild beasts they were beneath the surface. There were still obnoxious lip-smacking sounds and wolves chewing with their mouths open on their side of the banquet hall. The vampires opposite them shuddered in disgust, turning up their noses.

The dainty way the vampires cut their delicate bites caused more than one eyeroll on the wolves' side in turn. To the weres, the batty set were uptight coffin-stuffers who had no idea how to actually live. They could spend centuries without ever even sniffing the mortal realm, and became hilariously out of touch as a result.

The meal continued, but the unrest did not dissipate in the slightest. By the time the plates were being licked clean of any drops of blood, everyone in attendance had decided that clearly, the Queen did not deem the company worth attending. That left her subjects feeling abandoned and slighted, and the shifters assumed they were being dismissed and mocked by the rival leader. When the food was gone, not even a dessert of blood puddings could stop the conflagration from erupting.

The alpha leaders of the gathered packs left to their feet, throwing their stained napkins down in disgust.

"Clearly you sniveling, humorless, blood-guzzling snobs can't even be bothered to get your own Queen to show up for diplomacy! Are we just that much of a joke to you?!"

Across the aisle, the highest Lords and Ladies of the vampire contingencies rose to their feet, enraged.

"How do we know some fleabag renegade hasn't done something to our Queen? She does not abandon us in the face of our enemies! Your insults will cost you your scruffy hides!"

Claws and fangs popped out. Hisses and snarls filled the room. Bernard began to panic. He threw himself between the two sides, hands raised.

"Now now, everyone! Surely we can still enjoy the evening. Just this morning very early, we were discussing the events, and my Lady left instructions to provide some entertainment for everyone! Jacques, if you would!"

A mirrored disco ball sent flecks of rotating light across the crowd as it dropped from the ceiling, and the ghoul started the stereo. The cheerful, bouncy notes of "Saturday Night Fever" began to play throughout the room, to everyone's shock and chagrin. With a tremulous smile plastered upon his face, Bernard shakily held up the box of Twister.

"Anyone daring and flexible enough for a rousing game of the throwback mortal favorite, Twister?"

The wolves just stared, until one of the Alphas spat back "You have got to be kidding. Is that really the best you can offer?!"

"Er..." Bernard's mouth was more of a grimace now, stretched across his pasty face. "Naked Twister...?"

It started with a lone growl, but shortly thereafter came and outraged chorus of boos and jeers. The little adjutant shrunk and braced himself for the inevitable rending of his bones. The room was a boiling pot, and it didn't seem likely to be quelled at the last moment, unlike what was so often depicted in the movies. However, Bernard got lucky.

"STOP!"

Mere seconds before the first blow landed, the voice froze them all in their tracks. Bernard whipped around, recognizing immediately the one voice that could have saved him from the imminent disaster. He allowed himself the relief of being spared, and was gracious enough to not be deeply upset at how late his Queen was arriving.

But he was. He would have to grovel for her mercy later.

"My Queen!" The flustered dignitary cried, retreating toward where the entire party could see the figures of a woman and a group of men entering the establishment. In his hurry, he dropped the box containing the Twister game and ran as fast as his Oxfords could carry him. He stopped short and suddenly when the face of Veronikka of the Black Castle appeared, fringed by a hood of pelt. Pointed ears and coal-black fur adorned her raven hair, and she wore a skimpy flannel dress, artfully torn, over black leather leggings with heavy boots. She'd painted her nose with a black triangle, darkened her eyebrows, and given her eyelashes long, inky-black extensions.

Five burly young men strode in behind her, dressed impeccably (yet stereotypically) in capes, cravats, and black suits with blood red details. Despite having fangs, they'd each opted to don a set of costume fangs, purchased from a Halloween store that same day.

No one knew what to make of this entrance. Yet they all easily recognized the sight. Veronikka, dressed as a "sexy werewolf" compete with black fur tail hanging from the back of her shredded flannel dress. The Darkwood pack Alphas (the quints' fathers) recognized their wayward progeny and groaned. All five of their boys were dressed as Bela Lugosi for some unknown reason, and why they had arrived with their own enemy was a mystery to most. Flint's father, Falcon, was the first to put it together, much like his son. He turned to Blade, Darby, and Rafe.

"Shit," he said to his pack-brothers. "Our sons have done the impossible! The unthinkable!"

The alphas all turned to their sons, their mother Ingrid starting to chuckle. "I knew our boys were some of the wildest wolves in the pack, but they've really taken that a step further than even I expected. By the Moon, our daughter in law is a bloodsucker. Of course it would be our sons that brought home one of our sworn enemies."

"Mated?!" Roanix nearly choked on his drink. "You mean this little costume parade is because they've mated?"

Veronikka and her wolven beaus swept deeper into the room, grinning with all their fangs (both real and not) on display. The usually elegant vampire had a wilder, freer edge in her tattered, stylized outfit. Even her hair was mussed, not at all her usual perfect coif without a strand gone stray. The boys- on the other side of the equation- were much sleeker than usual, in fitted suits with slicked hair, immaculately groomed and accessorized. The role reversal was not lost on anyone.

The Queen held her hands up, and every guest present froze in place, no matter what activity they were doing. Several glasses hovered just shy of dry lips in every corner of the hall, and even the disco ball stopped spinning, its flecks of light adorning the room.

"My people," the vampire vixen haughtily began, "any injury- no matter how slight- against the shifters will henceforth be punishable by flogging, entombment, or death." There was a loud collective gasp, and she quickly continued speaking, to assuage any shred of thought about rebellion. "Vampires of my clan do not turn on their kin," Veronikka hissed in warning. "I know that we have never thought of the wolves as kin, but what we have long held to be truth has fundamentally, and forevermore, changed."

Bernard watched his Queen in bewilderment, shocked to hear these words from her lips. Wasn't she just bemoaning how nothing ever changed? And then, right on the cusp of an all-out war, she rides in dressed like that in the company of mutts, singing a completely different tune. He could scarcely believe it. Somehow, he could also see how much... happier she was.

The quintuplets took their cue, and immediately stripped their woman of her hood and dress, revealing the leather bustier underneath, and her mate-marks. While the crowd goggled at the site, sight removed their capes and jackets to show the perfect bite on each of their wrists.

"I, Veronikka of the Black Castle, have lived alone for more than a century. That ended in the witching hour this Halloween morn, when my five alpha werewolf mates claimed me."

"Our Moon Goddess does not make mistakes," Brodie boomed, stepping forward. "Veronikka is our mate. That means our clans are families, and we will fight to protect our mate... and her people."

"Like it or not," said Flint. "Weres and Vampires have been at odds for centuries, but there's a reason Veronikka was chosen to be ours. It's our destiny to end the feud, or at least keep it to harmless bickering."

The other three brothers moved in as well, putting hands on their woman.

"Suck it up, all of you! We're in-laws now!" The guys had their say. They wouldn't let anyone take their mate, and no threat of war or disownment would stop their ardor.

There was instant chaos. Each side pointed at the other, shrieking, wondering who might be next to be married across the aisle. Scruffy shirtless shifters couldn't imagine being mated to an uptight undead, nor the reverse. It was a wonder that tables and chairs stayed firmly in place and nothing was set aflame. Eventually, the shock died down, the sides finally starting to mingle. They began to circle. All of them knowing it was possible... Thoughts began to swirl. A much truer assessment began.

Vampires slowly began to envy the freedom and comfort of their wild rivals. Shifters noticed the care and beauty that the bloodsu- drinkers took to present themselves, coveting the wealth and poise. Of course, there was many a winsome countenance in their numbers. Beautiful ladies (and lords, aplenty)- handsome gentles, rugged wildmen, striking and haunting women, mysterious, sensual entities... there was more than "wolf" or "vampire," "enemy" or "rival."

Veronikka smiled, extending and arm to her newly mated men, all that skin from cleavage to neck theirs for kisses and rough bites. They all laughed to themselves, greedily watching the newness sink in. Their respective clans, robbed of violence, would have to learn how to coexist. Dare they speculate, the sides could even get along?

"From now on," the Vampire Queen declared as a final thought, "this annual event will no longer be a conference to 'make peace.' What family is truly at peace?" There was a titter, faint and uncertain, but there. "Instead, it's to be the biggest fucking party on the supernatural calendar! Why are we wasting our Halloweens trying to be civil? We should be feasting! Drinking! Playing! Dancing! Fucking!" She stirred a finger vigorously in the air above her, and called "Jacques!"

The ghoul stripped from his crisp attire down to a rhinestone-studded thong, leaving his mask and wig in place, and nothing else. The disco ball began spinning again, and more drinks were brought forth by the waitstaff, now all stripped to glittering sequined thongs. Instead of the disco, the audio system kicked back on to play a sensual, lyricless, upbeat dance music favored in clubs. With drink flowing, the revelry of the Queen and her mates coming center stage, and the much more relaxed atmosphere, the crowd started to loosen up. Maybe this wasn't so bad. A party? It would be grand to have a party on the holiday night rather than another several hours' bickering! Why the fuck not?

It happened slowly, but once someone busted out the Twister game for laughs and enough people were boozed up and more open to letting their hair down, things really got into swing. Suddenly vampires and werewolves were pouring each other drinks, laughing and joking, even casting eyes at some attractive forbidden fruit on the other side.

Then one of the cheeky quints began unlacing Veronikka's bustier, cupping her naked breasts in full view of the company. The five of them absolutely were of a mind to refill her cunt and womb with their seed, swelling her up for everyone to gawk at. They had managed to show up and thwart hundreds of years of tensions exploding, but at all that energy had to go somewhere. If not fighting, then fucking!

The vampire sighed in contentment, fulfillment, as she let her lovers undress her without a care. They could dine and drink when the flames of ardour had been soothed. Both clans needed an example set in the most gratuitous way, and she had not gotten enough of their knots yet, even though the six if them had barely slept all day. It was that exciting newness, coupled with the forbidden thrill of mixing with an enemy. Though, Veronikka pondered as she shivered at the frisson of her neck being nibbled and licked, she supposed she'd have to stop thinking of them as 'enemies' now.

As Duke brought his lips down on hers, sliding tongue between them deftly, others began to notice the steamy scene. There were a few gasps as the overt display grabbed all attention in the room, but no one protested. Suddenly all faces were turned to the Queen and her five wild princes, hungrily watching as more and more skin appeared. Two of them formed a support with their arms and bodies, seating her on a throne built of their limbs. Veronikka's legs were spread wide, for all to see, and they were looking. The sensuous display raised the heat in the room more than a couple notches. Plenty of drink had gone down, so inhibitions were absolutely cut loose.

The five young men stripped down as quick as they could, Veronikka helping as she could. Newly-bonded lovers got lost in kisses, caught up in the frenzy of pawing each other. They cared little that everybody was watching, and far more about indulging themselves and presenting their pleasure.

Everyone stared at this display, feeling a fundamental shift. Nothing was truly real until it was writhing in ecstasy in front of dozens of vampires and werewolves alike, and then it was staggeringly real. Supple, naked flesh. Sighs and mewls as things heated up. Passion began to spread outward as the guys licked Veronikka from neck to thighs, then got between them. Her loud, heady moan pierced the atmosphere, and as one of the boys began to truly feast on her cunt, the onlookers licked their lips. Before they even realized what they were doing, clothes were coming off. Eager young wolves were sniffing vampire maidens, looking to see if their mates could possibly have been on the other side the whole time. From the resounding howls and the sudden piling upon a handful of beauteous blood-drinkers, it seemed a few lucky packs without mates no longer had to search.

The chosen ladies found themselves bewildered and overwhelmed... but thoroughly seduced by handsome smiles and eager hands. It didn't take much to convince any of the 'fated' female vampires that there was pleasure to be had. Even when the forming of the mate-bond caused the males to morph, their women were open to stroking their silky heads, and taking their long tongues.

Even the stodgiest of stodgy vamps loosened his cravat and took a breath, watching with a tear in his eye as his clan, and the weres, began to "make love, not war" for the first time in centuries. He was also a bit surprised when a pair of his own elders approached, their eyes glittering with wine and secret desires. They helped him untie the cravat, and then removed so much more. He wound up staring into the eyes of Elder Malachi with his Lady Roberta sandwiched between them. She could still squeal like a maiden of 350, rather than the stately elder vampiress of 800 she was.

Werewolf males outnumbered females, but they were absolutely game to share any female with their packmates. Some of them were none too picky about the distinctions of sex or gender, either, and couples, thruples, foursomes and more of various mixes began to pop up in the room. Men pawed each other freely to appreciative eyes, women kissed to a chorus of hoots and howls. Wolves shredded the clothes off their vampire lovers' bodies, forcing cries of scandal, indignation, and yet arousal from their snooty throats. The raw primalism and the taboo of mixing with their sworn enemies proved an intoxicating concoction for the vampires, and they swooned.

Even Jacques and his ghouls jumped into the fray. While yes, they feasted upon flesh, it was carefully sourced mortal flesh, and that didn't mean they lacked other skills. Or restraint, for that matter. In fact the lot of them were quite skilled at devouring in a multitude of ways. The bevy of undead threw themselves into action, nudging their way into pairings and groupings to find the nearest unoccupied set of balls, nether-lips, or cock, clit. Jacques' staff were like lampreys. They latched on and sucked the life from their target until every drop of spend was swallowed. Those who had the privilege of being the feast collapsed into a spent, satisfied heap, allowing their other lovers an opportunity to pounce.

Nothing further desecrated a deconsecrated Church than a huge number of monstrous immortals fucking. The place would likely need to close for a few days to clean up the stains, but well worth it.

While Veronikka and her rambunctious pack of mates were recreating their earlier expansion of the vampiress' belly, the Alphas and their matte had fallen into a heat, inspired by the surroundings and the claiming of their sons. Ingrid was so attuned to her men that all of them were able to rut her at once. They had ripped her clothes to shreds in their frenzy, and pulled her to her feet. Ingrid slickened with a burst of arousal, scenting the lust pouring off them and reacting instantly. The four wolf-shifter Alphas lifted her off th ground, legs hooking around Falcon and Rafe as they got between her thighs; Blade and Darby secured her from behind by grabbing her hips and looping her arms around their necks, one for both. Their centuries-old relationship had given them plenty of experience, and the men were no strangers to their woman's holes.

Ingrid yowled as four steely erections poised at her cunt and her ass. The two behind bathed themselves in her cream to claim her tight back door, then moved to stretch that tight ring with a vengeance. As Blade and Darby began simultaneously pressing against the reluctant entrance, Falcon and Rafe mirrored, notching themselves in the cunt that accepted them with such greedy warmth. After so many years together, many heats and passionate nights, Ingrid could take all four of her mates at once. Even knotted. The filthiest of mortal pornographers couldn't imagine the feats Ingrid could accomplish in bedsport!

As the quints' fathers began thrusting, building their woman into a frenzy of heat, Veronnika found herself in a similar entanglement. Her new mates had gotten her onto her knees, bent over into the classic 'doggy' position. Naturally. They lined up, intending to take her by turns and pump her full as they had back in the Black Castle. No matter who was in her, the others jumped to do their parts, Not a single sensitive part of the vampiress' body was neglected. All the guys were equally skilled with their hands, which were everywhere. Veronikka was stroked and groped, keeping her arousal humming while her men fucked relentlessly. They continued invading impossibly deep, forcing their way into the tiny barrier that normally could not be breached by a cock. If she were mortal, well... she'd be screaming in agony.

But Veronikka was distinctly not mortal. She was a centuries-old vampire, Queen of her people, and her body had strength, resilience, and flexibility in ways no human had. Her womb let them in, and they filled her.

While the packs were busy simultaneously trying their mightiest to sire a new litter of pups on their women, the rest of the party had completely let its hair down. The naked Twister game had devolved purely into a pile of bodies writhing, fucking and being fucked. Limbs and torsos were so tangled it was impossible to identify the players. There was only a voice crying out from the area with commands like "Switch holes!" "Suck left testicle!" "Right hand, nearest buttock!" The crowd readily complied with each declaration. The moans and cum-cries rising from the pile provided a nice background ambiance.

Bernard and his lovers for the evening were quite active, with the much-fussed adjutant balls deep inside Elder Malachi, who was balls deep in Lady Roberta as she sucked off a shifter from a less pack-oriented group. The whole group managed a feat of simultaneous climax none of them expected but enjoyed in grand style, and they fell into a glorious mess.

Packs of newly-mated vamps and weres remained deep in the throes of establishing their bonds, which meant the hall was peppered with wolfmen knotting the holes of women who had never imagined themselves on the receiving end of such girth. One young vampire maiden (a delicate 76 years old, turned at twenty), was a maiden in every sense of the word, until one of the rowdiest packs of werewolves in the larger clan caught whiff of her. She had eight new paramours, and they were not being gentle. Once they'd sussed her out, she barely had a chance to whisper a tentative "Hello" before they were transforming.

Lavender was a slender little thing, with a cloud of silver-blonde hair in fluffy waves about her head. She looked like the human idea of an angel, but could hunt a victim with the stealth of a hidden blade. Her seeming fragility belied her tough nature, and the massive pack that descended upon her could smell it. They could also scent her complete and utter purity, and it drove them mad.

You look like a moon goddess, one of them projected to her, wolfish grin on his morphing visage. The lass watched their number increase from one to eight and regarded them with cool curiosity.

"How interesting," Lavender's gentle yet sharp tone rose. "Telepathic communication without even taking your blood."

The big bad wolves grinned, showing sharp teeth.

We develop telepathic communication with our pack, bonded or born. It also happens when we find a mate. One of them chuckled in her mind, as all of them circled. She wouldn't know who was who for quite some time.

"A mate? Well congratulations," the vampire deadpanned.

Thanks, another one of the voices replied cheerfully. Likewise. The pack moved quickly from there, catching up their demon-descended paramour. They teased her about keeping her chastity, all while tearing apart her clothing. There was a bit of squabbling over who go to do the honors in each of her sweet holes, but eventually they all found ways to enjoy her during the inaugural plucking. For her part, Lavender took it all rather well. The men were soon licking and stroking her untouched parts with gusto, catapulting her into carnal delights previously unknown to the neophyte. Never before had her kinsmen heard her voice so loudly.

Her virginity, in every sense, was quickly dispatched. In all orifices simultaneously. Of course each man got his turn, leaving Lavender bathed in their cream, and before the night had even fully wound down, they carried her off to their den to 'get to know each other better.'

There wasn't a hole that wasn't filled, nor a cock serviced, by the end of the night. Very few attendees were lucky enough to have their clothes intact when it all ended in a disheveled heap of bodies, panting and writhing. Everyone was smeared with various fluids. The vampires had never looked more unkempt! The shifters had never had so much fun with their prissy rivals.

The very nude (and glowing) Lady Roberta loudly proclaimed "I suppose the hatchet is buried... I look forward to our next splendid fête on All Hallows' Eve!" The vampire madame had such an air about her- it was like a hundred years had come off her life. The way she continued to rub Bernard's bare buttocks as he finished lazily sucking off her husband certainly made the picture.

The party- and most of its participants- came to the final climax of the evening with Veronikka and her mates. Each one of the werewolf brothers took his turn rutting, knotting her, and flooding her with semen until she again swelled so completely that she looked like she were carrying a babe. Once the last drop was pounded into her depths, the five men hoisted her up and displayed her on their shoulders, calling the attention of every present member with a loud cry.

He was met with a burst of cheers, perhaps a few exalting pleasure-screams mingled within. More than a few gasps, too.

"Impossible!" A female voice shouted from the pile of naked bodies. "We cannot bear such children!"

"So Veronikka told us," Inigo shouted back. "But this is a new era! Your blood-magick works on will, so why not this?"

"Plus," Rex added, "we know vampire males can knock up mortal women! Your men might be able to sire a child or children on one of ours. Did any of our ladies find themselves a hot fanger or two?" There was a squeak through the room, and just one shifter woman made herself known. She had to extract herself from the arms of two previously elegantly dressed Victorian men to stand up, hair wild and body smeared with vampire cum.

"Now how the hell would that work?" The shifter was shorter in stature than many others, but she was built muscular and curvaceous. "A damphir-wereshifter? It's unheard of!"

"We're in uncharted waters now," said Duke, slapping Veronikka's rump.

"The future before us is unknown, but we should at least celebrate that the years of distrust and resentment can be put behind us," the mussed vampire spoke, her voice booming across the cavernous church hall. Her breathing was labored with the heavy weight of her expanded belly. "Instead, we can feast, we can hunt, we can fuck, and we can revel!"

There were more cheers, then the moans and whispered words of affection as the impetous lovers began to stretch themselves and separate. They gathered up their things, and began to move into the central part of the room, just in time to witness the glorious gushing of pearly seed that poured out of Veronikka's cunt once her mates unplugged her.

Sluggishly, the crowd cleaned themselves up and aided Jacques and his rather orally talented ghouls in putting everything as much to rights as possible. Everyone was a bit wobbly as they began to leave for the night and take themselves to their own further pleasures.

Holding Veronikka's arm, surrounding her with his brothers, Flint quipped "Well now we can focus our attention on our TRUE enemies."

"Witches and warlocks?" Came a werewolf behind them.

"No." Flint shook his head.

"The Church?" Gasped a nervous-looking drinker.

"Nope!" Flint looked at everyone over his shoulder, adjusting his glasses in a serious manner. "Monster fuckers." An audible gasp went up from the moving crowd.

"Yeah, those damn humans used to be scared of us! Now they seek us out to hit it and quit it with no thoughts of commitment to immortality!" There were disgruntled voices all through the crowd, agreeing with the frustrated outburst.

Their beef at last buried, vamps and weres sick of being fetishized for their fangs and fur united under a common banner: "Creatures of the Night, Not Creatures of the One-Night Stand!"

After so many centuries, the Black Castle was at last lively, full, and lived in. Veronikka and her mates 'baptized' every room in the house with wild bouts of sex, and she felt herself grow freer by the night. The quints never gave up on the idea of impregnating her, either. There was quite a lot of practice, and the Queen's parties were never better. Every Halloween night became more of a chaotic family reunion that often spilled out into the mortal world for blood and reckless seductions. New members of either clan were chosen and inducted during their annual orgies, which became infamous, and therefore much anticipated.

And so, ancient enemies found their feud ended through hot, unhinged sex. In that sense, Veronikka often mused (as she was bent over taking the knots of any of her lovers) that their kind had 'one upped' the mortals in this. The vampires and weres could have started a war that tore the entire world to shreds, but they'd chosen to start fucking and to stop fucking fighting, after long last.

Eternity was shaping up to be quite a good time indeed.

*

Welcome back, readers! Been some time. I actually began this story last year, and had a devil of a time polishing it off, but I was determined to get it submitted! If you've been following me and anxiously waiting for certain installments, they are in the works, along with some other goodies, including a follow up to one of my bigger projects that started it all. ;)

I hope you enjoy this more humorous outing of mine as we head into spooky season. I myself have some grand news. I'm getting married! On Halloween, at one of the most infamous murder houses in my area. I can't wait to marry the love of my life.