Her every night is the same.

She really loves big dicks.

If you only know two things about Ravinical Vesh, the bored heterosexual vampiress, then it’s those two, right?

Those are the two most pertinent facts for sure. You probably remember a lot of other stuff, like her bra size, her confidence issues around her sense of fashion, her practical strategies for buying Christmas presents, how bad she is at masturbating, etc. But you know those two facts for sure. Those are the great truths of her life.

Her every night is the same.

She really loves big dicks.

Those are the things she would mention in every letter home to her parents. 

Those are the things that were always true.

Until a night came that was not the same as every other. A night that brought with it the longest, fattest, nastiest dick that the big-titted goth slut had ever seen.

“Holy shit!” said the big-titted goth slut.

The great wooden doors to the gatehouse were splinters. 

The first portcullis had been hacked through as if its iron bars were reeds.

The second portcullis wasn’t in great shape either.

And the axe-wielding monstrosity that had perpetrated this damage… that had climbed the mountain path, navigated the preternatural fogs, leaped the moat, torn down the drawbridge, and hacked his way through every barrier in his path…that monstrosity. That monstrosity stood before her now, panting and stamping.

The night had started just like every other night, so Ravinical had dressed fairly typically - in complicated gothic lingerie with cute cut-out triangles for her nips to poke through and an arrangement of stockings, suspenders and panties that looked like you’d need a Master’s Degree in erotic engineering to successfully disassemble them.

She had not dressed to repel a home invasion by a giant Man-Bull with a giant…

“Holy shit!”

“You said that,” said the Minotaur. “You staring at my dick?”

Fuck yeah, she was.

“Anyone ever tell you it impossibly reconciles the transcendent and the immanent?” Ravinical flirted.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

And he punched her in the face.

Rutt the Minotaur was a creature capable of complex and sophisticated thoughts. There were none in his head right now. All he wanted to do was kill every last vampire in this castle, free the village of Spetlamu from their dread dominion, and prove to himself that he was still a great hero. Greater than his father. Greater than space robots. Stronger and harder than anything! Rutt wanted to kill and fuck until everyone in these Lands knew that he was the fucking best at killing and fucking, and then he wanted to kill and fuck some more just because it was awesome.  

Ravinical the Heterosexual Vampiress was a creature capable of complex thoughts. And every thought in her head was complicated right now. Complicated and conflicted. 

She'd just met the man of her dreams. The man who represented everything she'd longed for in her five lonely years at the Castle.

He had said three sentences to her then punched her in the face. 

Like...what was she supposed to do with that? Where do you file something like that, emotionally? And what should she prioritise? Dealing with her feelings or dealing with the fact that he was now swinging an axe at her?

FUCK!

The axe! It was the axe! She should prioritise dodging the fucking axe!

She was still on her feet. Reeling from the punch, but still on her feet. The axe blow was swinging in from the right. 

With preternatural vampire celerity, she darted backwards, well out of the Minotaur's AOE. She planted her feet. The swing would leave the Minotaur unbalanced, his flank exposed, and ready for her to...

FUCK!

That is not at all what happened. 

Instead, as Ravinical darted back... the shaft of the axe extended! With a creaking, squeaking sound the wooden handle elongated itself. Stretching out to put Ravinical squarely back in range.

"Good girlie, Peartree," grunted the Minotaur.

"I love you, daddy," said a cute voice from the axe.

He had a magic talking axe called Peartree?

No! That wasn't the important thing right now. The important thing was that the axe had made contact with her arm and amputated it from just above the elbow.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! 

"Okay, c'mon bitch," Ravinical told herself. "Get it together. What the fuck is happening?"

The man of her dreams had just smashed through a lot of quasi-medieval siege-repellent architecture. He was now trying to kill her with an axe made out of living wood and some sort of exotic metal with weird bumps on it. 

What else?

Oh yeah. She was a vampire. A fucking vampire. She had powers and shit. 

What were they, again? Oh FUCK she had no idea.

In the five years she'd spent as a vampire, lounging around the castle, there'd been no expectation that she'd have to train for combat or any shit like that. She just had to be decorative, look goth and have big tits. Ravinical didn't know how vampires fought. How did she fight?

Right now, she was concentrating on dodging. Now that she'd learned the axe could hyperextend then she had a better chance of avoiding its fell swings. And she was learning more. The shaft didn't just stretch. It bent and contorted to slightly and subtlety correct trajectories. 'Peartree' worked like an aimbot.

Were it not for her preternatural vampire celerity, she'd be chopped into little chunks by now.  

Celerity! Yes! That was definitely one of her powers. Enhanced speed was definitely something that gave her an edge over this brute.

What else? What else? There was something obvious?

Oh well, until it came to her, she'd have to rely on the super-speed.

Ravinical hurled herself downwards, grabbed his dick and swung herself between his legs like a one-armed Tarzan swinging on a vine.

It was a hell of a way to escalate the situation. A hell of a play to make on breaking out of a holding pattern of dodges and feints. Grabbing his fucking dick, dragging it and herself between his legs, and placing herself at his back. His cock in her remaining hand, her tits pressed against his muscular back, and her vicious teeth at his throat.

Rutt roared. His heroic cock was pulled between his legs like a drag queen's tuck. 

Ravinical sunk her nails into it passionately, breaking its skin. 

This situation terrified her. She could deal with the thought of the Minotaur raping and killing her. But not with the thought of him just killing her. Not with the thought that a once-in-a-lifetime dick like this would be brought to the castle and never violate her quim. 

The minotaur really was trying to kill her. That was obvious. He seemed to have no interest in raping her at all. It was so fucking unfair! It was so many times worse than the rejection of her gay husband.

She bit into his neck from behind. Clamping herself on like a leech. She twisted and tore desperately at his penis with her remaining hand.

"Nice try," said Rutt, and thought about Tatiana.

As soon as he visualised his maid, his penis became fully erect, flew out of Ravincal's grasp, arced back between his legs and pinged up to proudly stand to full attention right in front of him.

With his wanger free he shook her off easily, although badly traumatised his neck wound by doing so.

"You want this, bitch, don't you?" he said, grabbing his huge, throbbing, bleeding slut-slammer and giving it a couple of aggressive strokes. "Well, you're never gonna fucking get it! Your nasty vag ain't getting any."

He swung upwards with the axe. 

Reeling from the horrifying, soul-destroying certainty that he wasn't going to rape her, she failed to dodge. 

But it was okay, somehow the blow didn't land. It hadn't hit her. It hadn't...

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh no.

Ravinical looked down. The axe swing had come up underneath her left honker and, with enormous force, sliced her tit right off her chest.

Ravinical looked up. The axe had carved through her soft flesh with such force that it had sent her udder sailing through the air, way up into the sky. Possibly in the direction of the southern courtyard.

"Looks like Team Titty's blasting off again," laughed the Minotaur.

The vampire felt light headed. From the pain, the blood-loss, and mostly from the insane sight of her own left slutbag flying through the air...

WAIT!

FLYING!

That was it! That was another vampire power she had! Ravinical knew how to turn into a bat!

Ravinical turned into a bat! The one-armed, one-titted, heterosexual goth vampire turned into a bat.

Rutt looked at the bat.

Flapping about uselessly on the floor. 

Like you would expect from a bat with one wing.

"You stupid fucking cunt," he said, and brought his heel down hard on the bat's little skull.