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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
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--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

I Thirst
by Ufpe (ufpe@inorbit.com)

***

A young thief is found by the night watchman. (Mf, ped, 
sci-fi)

***

Stan quietly turned in his gear and clocked out as the 
first rays of dawn filtered through the dusty windows of 
the security office. The screen door slammed abruptly as 
he left with the same squeaky harshness he'd grown 
accustomed too over his short tenure, triggering a soul 
sourced sigh of relief.  

The brick two-story structure with mesh covered windows 
where Stan patrolled served as a storage facility for 
unused bodily fluids like blood and sperm on the second 
level, with a small "quality control" lab on the first 
floor. Folks he never met arrived dutifully at the same 
hour in their Lincolns and BMW's, and departed long 
before Stan returned in the middle of the night. Located 
in an abandoned and mostly forgotten part of town, it 
was close to the one room apartment where Stan spent his 
free time, away from the stress and pressure of modern 
city life – just the way he liked it.

Not so long ago, Stan had been a rising star in a large 
manufacturing firm with a mortgage, wife, and second 
hand car, and filled with dreams and energy. But 
downsizing quickly dispatched his assets, and while his 
pregnant wife ran home to momma, Stan set out alone. 
Weeks of rejection eventually sapped his hopes, and 
found him slowly climbing the stairs to his second floor 
flat where beer, bologna, and bread awaited his palate 
and darkened windows and an overstuffed mattress 
promised rest to his aching torso. 

He snapped on the TV and adjusted the ruptured clothes 
hanger antenna until the snow disappeared and the news 
droned its boring sensationalism in black and gray. 
Sleep rapidly overwhelmed him as the city just beyond 
his neighborhood burst into renewed life. 

Night fell too quickly, as it usually does, and all too 
soon Stan was shaving his stubble to the tune of a 
whistling teakettle. It was Saturday night, and after 
his shift was complete, he would have 48-hours to watch 
football, and spend some time at Rileys, his favorite 
pub located just across the street. 

Rileys was seldom empty when it was open, catering to 
the locals and vagrants with feigned interest, cool 
brews, and a closely monitored flat screen. Every night 
after midnight, Mr. Riley would throw a porn disc in the 
DVD to a packed house that would openly comment on the 
action or the lack therein.  A sharp watch was 
maintained for local law enforcement that seldom came, 
and when they did, normally actively joined in on the 
commentaries while downing canned sodas. 

All was going well on watch for Stan until about three 
in the morning when a subtle noise could be heard in one 
of the nitrogen storage rooms unlike those he was 
accustomed too. After fumbling with several different 
keys, he was able to make his way into the darkened room 
and flick on the light switch. Beneath the austere 
flicker of fluorescent bulbs he spied a huddled figure 
in the back corner with several small milky colored 
vials scattered haphazardly leading to an open storage 
door. Stan hurriedly pulled his sheathed tazer and raced 
towards the trembling figure.

"Please don't..." a frail feminine voice squeaked from 
beneath the dark shawl obscuring all but her tiny bare 
feet.

Stan half slid to a stop right before her on the shiny 
grey tiles. "Geez lady, what the hell you doin' in 
here?"  

The shroud slowly slid from a dark mountain of long 
disheveled hair to reveal two large black eyes made 
prominent by her pale white complexion. "I thirst," she 
mumbled with a barely audible voice.

The fight or flight response kicked in even before Stan 
saw the two sharp points of her fangs protruding into 
her lower lip. His mouth became "death valley dry" as 
his mind fervently sought his next course of action. 
Somehow, this form of theft didn't fit in any of the 
response scenarios outlined in the security manual he 
had been required to memorize. Stan fingered his phone 
nervously, wondering if his security chief would believe 
or terminate him. The latter appeared far more likely. 

"Get out of here, and don't come back," Stan snarled in 
the most vicious voice he could muster, and watched her 
slide through the wire mesh that was pried open and 
disappear. He then dialed the local law enforcement 
agency. 

Endless questions and intimidating glares after the 
police arrived, Stan was finally released. He emerged 
exhausted into the bright sunlight. Prudence had 
dictated the Stan omit any reference to the pointed 
tooth nymph he had found, in an apparently successful 
attempt to hold his job. The entire event was more than 
he cared to consider, and he trudged home in an 
exhausted daze. As he entered his darkened abode, he 
briefly considered a brew, but settled for the comfort 
of his bed and was out within seconds. 

Visions of fanged toothed creatures drifted in and out 
of his troubled dreams when he was awakened by a 
forceful tug to his BVD's. In the subdued light, he 
could barely make out a huddled figure tugging at the 
last vestiges of his modesty fervently.

"What the hell?" he mumbled.

"I thirst..." came the plaintive reply. 

Stan's blood instantly ran cold and he froze, as the 
last fabric was pulled away from his torso. The rush of 
cool air on his genitals was quickly replaced by the 
unmistakable warm and wet suction of an experienced 
mouth magician. Her tongue rapidly massaged his glans, 
protruding into his slit forcefully on several 
occasions.  Her tiny hands massaged his maleness 
fervently, gently coaxing his life giving essence from 
the depths of his groin. 

With one hand pumping the straining shaft, and the other 
gently pressuring his quivering gonads, her oral 
ministrations went into overdrive, and brought Stan to 
an explosive dick burning eruption, in record time. 

When his boiling seed spewed into her mouth, her two 
razor sharp incisors punctured the delicate flesh 
beneath his glans, pricking one of his veins and sending 
a stream of warm blood into his frothy cum which she 
gulped down until the flow completely ceased. 

Stan arched his back in ecstasy, barely aware of the two 
pricks responsible for draining his manhood so rapidly. 
Months of stored sperm were completely consumed by his 
hungry guest as she murmured her approval. She rolled 
from his exhausted body and sighed contentedly as Stan 
fell back into an exhausted sleep. Within his sleeping 
body, the serum she injected began to circulate slowly, 
settling into his prostrate and testes. 

Within hours, his body would become a virulent sperm 
factory and she would be there to relieve the pressure 
and help him adapt to his new life as her provider. 

END

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is 
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in 
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real 
life" can look forward to many unproductive years 
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their 
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 71