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Warnings: Vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, werewolf caretaker, blood bag caretaker, family death mention, rotting wounds, mentions of captivity, mentions of female character being held prisoner (No whump), blood drinking, brief non-sexual nudity, abuse, illness, delirium.
Taglist: @purple-heart-x
NOTE: The female character was only kept to be trained as a guard dog, because she is a werewolf, not for torture or anything sexual
The vampire stroked his cold fingers over her head. The werewolf shuddered under the touch, not from fear, but rage.
She would give anything to have his muzzle removed, so that she could tear that smug smirk off of his face.
She hated the vampire, and growled her displeasure.
“Shh. You’ll learn to love me.” The vampire crooned, rubbing her ear with his fingers.
The werewolf flicked it out of his grip, snarling under the muzzle. If not for the chain locked around her neck, she’d try to surprise the vampire, pushing him into the sunlight, which would incapacitate him long enough for her to run.
The lack of a full moon didn’t matter. A pureblooded werewolf could transform without trouble at any time they wished. The full moon just forced the transformation.
“So ferocious.” The vampire murmured. “You’ll make such a good guard dog, once you’re properly trained.”
Never. The werewolf thought.
“You’ll learn. Good dog.”
Zaina sat up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily.
She hated dreaming about her time as Azrael’s ‘pet’.
Fucking parasite. She thought furiously. Not that he’d ever bitten her. Her blood was poisonous to him, just like her bite, and her claws.
There had been a time when Zaina had believed that Vampires were judged too harshly, that hunting them was unfair.
That was before they’d slaughtered her family, and taken her away to sell at an auction.
Where Azrael had bought her.
A year and a half spent chained up, near constantly muzzled.
Zaina got up, stripping down, and folding her clothes up neatly. She walked down to the front door, and opened it. She didn’t worry about being seen. Her house was in the forest, with no neighbours for a mile in any direction, and surrounded by trees.
She jumped off the porch as a young woman, and landed on the ground as a wolf that was the size of a lion.
Zaina growled, shaking her fur out, yellow eyes narrowing as she stalked forward, sniffing the air.
She caught a familiar scent, and sat down, watching as the human approached.
Chris.
Azrael’s former blood bag. Another reason she hated vampires. They could drink animal blood, yet they still took humans.
Parasites.
“Good morning.” Zaina yawned, her voice raspy and reverberating, as it always was in her wolf form.
“Morning, Zaina.”
“You seem worried.” The werewolf noted. “What’s wrong?”
“They haven’t killed him.” Chris said, and Zaina’s blood ran cold.
“He escaped?”
“No. They still have him. But he’s alive.”
Zaina relaxed slightly.
“I was thinking of going down. Killing him myself. Getting some closure. Would you like to come?”
“Not really. Never seeing him again is still too much contact with him.” She’d been kept by Azrael for a year and a half, Chris had been kept for three months.
“Yeah. Makes sense.” Chris said calmly. “I’ll come back when it’s done.”
The sun was up again. Azrael could tell by the sudden increase in nausea that spiked in his gut.
Sun sickness got worse the longer the time of exposure, and he’d been outside for two solid weeks without a break.
He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel anymore overheated, sick, and miserable, yet it did. Day by day.
He heard voices, but was too out of it to really understand what was being said.
The vampire moaned, turning his head weakly. He strained to speak, to beg for mercy. He felt so sick, and his voice was failing him.
All he managed was a weak “Please.”
Pain throbbed through his body, emanating from the claw wounds on his stomach, and the bite on his arm.
Werewolf venom was a miserable thing for a vampire. Even when healthy, it could take over a year for a werewolf bite, or claw wound, to heal.
And Azrael definitely wasn’t healthy.
Something dug into his mutilated stomach, and he whined in pain.
Chris stared down at the mess that had once held him prisoner.
The first thing that had struck him when entering the vampire’s open topped cell, was the stench of rotting flesh.
“Fucking bloodsucker.” The Hunter growled, even as Azrael whimpered on the floor. “This the one that had you?”
Chris nodded, unable to take his eyes off the trembling vampire.
“Well, we were just about to get rid of it, but if you want to take it, feel free.”
“Thank you. I think I will.”
“Sure. Let me load it into a crate for you, so you can have your fun with it.”
Chris nodded mutely.
As soon as the cage containing his former prisoner had been loaded into the back of his car,the smell of rotting flesh became overpowering.
It wasn’t hard to see why.
On the Vampire’s arm and stomach, were hideously rotting wounds.
One of them, the one on his arm, was from Zaina, the day they were freed, ten months prior. And it had festered so badly that it was far bigger than the original bite had been.
Chris inhaled deeply, and then regretted it as bile rose in his throat at the stench.
“Now for the hard part.” He sighed. “Telling Zaina, and convincing her to help.”
Zaina smelled the vampire before she saw it. Or rather, smelled the rotting wounds on the creature.
Yet at first, this didn’t even register.
Before she had time to think, she was already transformed and lunging.
“Zaina, hey, stop!” Chris shouted, barely dodging her.
Zaina snarled, but froze up when she realized that Chris was carrying Azrael, and that the vampire was crying.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming