You have to take big risks to get major rewards, right?
With the zombies trying to regroup, you take the offensive. A few choice jabs, a backhand swing of the branch, some nice acrobatics followed by a kick or two—if you knew demon hunting was so much fun, you would have joined up a long time ago!
The zombies start to clear a path in front of you, as if bowing to your mastery with the branch. Naturally you take it—not realizing it is taking you deeper into the cemetery and away from the door. But you fight on, valiantly as if your life depended on it… which it does.
“Come on, you undead fucks! Who wants some?!” (never being much for cursing, your choice of vocab here surprises you—maybe you are getting into this a little too much?)
The zombies lead you into a circle of the undead deep in the cemetery. They create a wall three zombies deep on all sides, but choose not to come within striking distance of your brain-covered branch. Maybe now you can get a breather, check your surroundings, and make a much better plan seeing as how the zombie assault is a bit on the relentless side. Indeed, there doesn’t seem to be any end to the number you have to fight. You don’t see the door out at all now. That fear that started to grip you is slowly squeezing.
It’s at that moment that a set of arms grab you from below. “Stupid girl!” you scream in your head (your mouth is to busy just plain screaming). That was their plan all along—lead you to where they could trap you with their numbers underground, where your can’t swat them. Who knew zombies where so smart?
You struggle wildly, your mind racing in panic. You swat at one arm only to have another grab your shin. Indeed, they are pulling you down to your knees, throwing you completely off balance. With one wild swing, your branch slams into your own leg. The pain is intense and you drop your weapon in both anger and disgust. It’s a life and death moment and you do something so stupid as hit yourself? How could it get any worse?
That’s when the circle closes in on you.
You flail about, biting, kicking, doing whatever you can to stop these bastards from doing what is now inevitable. But you no longer have any leverage to make any kind of decent attack. There is no power behind your blows, and despite the surge of adrenaline, you are getting completely exhausted.
It doesn’t take much for them to rip away your pack and toss it aside, leaving your back exposed. Your top is next, followed quickly by your bra. At the site of your breasts, the assault turns toward pleasuring themselves, pawing at your tits and rubbing their behemoth members all over you.
“Get off me you—“ You are cut off as a female zombie thrusts one of her engorged nipples into your mouth. Naturally you bite down, and hard, but the zombie moans in a chillingly breathless voice.
Their hands are everywhere now, and you are no longer touching the ground, completely enveloped by these creatures. There rest of your clothing is unceremoniously ripped away, leaving you naked and vulnerable—the perfect victim. Your wild kicking only serves to help the zombies spread your gorgeous legs (soon to be rotting and grey if you can’t escape, you think to yourself).
A part of you escapes this torment. That part looks on at what is happening. You are about to be raped by a bunch of zombies. A bunch of, while all dead and with that fresh-from-the-grave smell, quite hunky male zombies and hot female zombies. It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn scary and real. In fact, they are hot and they want you to be part of them. Does that make you hot too? Think about it—your will stay this hot forever (yes, as a horny zombie, but is that so bad?).
Of course, then Amy and the others will be trapped forever doing who knows what and you will be serving a dark master as he overthrows the Earth. You will be dooming many to the same undead existence while others go through other types of torture. You can’t let this happen. You have to fight! You have—
And just like that, that part of you returns in time for the first zombie to thrust its giant cock into your pussy. It’s the most alien feeling in the world—this cock is cold but just as nice to have inside. In fact, it’s quite pleasurable. Is that another side effect of the zombie, that it makes the victim suffer the agony of pleasure?
Your quite mews tell you all you need to know as you are thoroughly enjoyed by the throng of zombies. Cock after cock finds its home inside your womb, even more make their way to your rear. Some even make it into your mouth. Of course, the monotony is relieved by the number of undead cunts that grind into you, that you eventually shove your tongue or finger into at some point or another.
How long it lasts, you never know. Hours, days, it really doesn’t matter. When at last your heart bursts from pleasure overload, you continue to buck against your tormentors. When the color fades from skin, your latest orgasm rockets through you. And when, many weeks later, you and your undead lovers are released into the world you once called home to cull the heard and create new lovers, new slaves to your dark master, all you feel is an ache in your loins and an insatiable hunger to feed.
|