The following story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. It is important to note that all characters in this story are over the age of 18 and the content of the story is intended for adult readers only. Additionally, please note that this story is written with help of artificial intelligence.
Mara's Vampire Stepmom ~ by DarkTalons
Mara Beckett had always been the kind of girl who blended into the background without ever really fading away—blonde hair that fell in soft waves down her back, a body that turned heads in the hallways at school with perky tits that strained just right against her fitted tops and an ass that looked killer in her favorite skinny jeans, but she never played it up. She dressed stylish, sure, like those cropped sweaters and high-waisted shorts that showed off her toned legs, but nothing too wild, nothing that screamed for attention. Good grades, a tight circle of friends, and a dad who was some big-shot CEO always jetting off to meetings in cities she couldn't pronounce. Her mom had died when she was little, leaving this massive house in the Suburbs, that felt more like a museum than a home, empty most days. And then there was Benny Whitaker, her best friend since they were kids building forts in the backyard next door. Benny was the steady one, a bit soft around the edges—chubby in that cute, huggable way, not sloppy, just carrying a little extra that made him look approachable, always cracking jokes to make her laugh. They'd grown up together, shared secrets, cried over stupid crushes, but it never crossed that line. Classic friendzone, and Mara liked it that way.
Lately, though, shit had gotten weird at home. Her dad had brought Anastasia into their lives about 10 months ago, this stunning black-haired woman with a body that could stop traffic— slim and fit, but with these massive, perfectly round tits that looked like they'd been sculpted, a round ass that swayed hypnotically, and legs that went on forever. Anastasia dressed like she owned the world: sky-high heels clicking across the marble floors, elegant outfits that hugged every curve, sometimes sheer stockings that made her legs look endless, or edgy leather skirts with tops that plunged low enough to tease. Even on lazy days around the house, she'd throw on yoga pants that clung like a second skin or oversized sweaters that somehow still looked sexy as fuck, slipping off one shoulder to show lace underneath. And those nails—always red, glossy, at least two inches long, pointy as daggers, tapping rhythmically when she was thinking or scrolling her phone. Mara's dad spoiled her rotten: jewelry dripping off her wrists, weekend getaways to private beaches, dinners at places with waiting lists a mile long. But when he'd drag her on those business trips that were mostly him locked in conference rooms, Anastasia would beg off sometimes, saying she had a headache or just wanted to relax at home. That's when the weirdness ramped up. She'd get distant, closed off, disappearing late at night and slipping back in quietly, heading straight to the master bedroom without a word.
Mara wasn't stupid. She saw the signs. Anastasia played the perfect stepmom around her dad—sweet smiles, asking about school, complimenting Mara's outfits—but Mara felt the fakeness underneath, like Anastasia was just biding her time for the money, the lifestyle. Another gold digger latching onto her dad's wealth. If she could catch her cheating, prove it with pics or video, she could show her dad and boot the bitch out. It ate at her, this suspicion building like a slow burn in her gut, making her watch Anastasia Closer.
One night, it all clicked into place. Mara pretended to head to bed early, but she texted Benny: "Come over quiet. Need u to see this shit." He showed up quick, sneaking through the side gate like old times, and they huddled in her room, lights off, peeking through the curtains. Sure enough, around midnight, Anastasia slipped out the front door in this sleek black dress that hugged her huge tits and ass, stockings shimmering under the porch light, heels silent somehow on the pavement—like she was gliding. No car, just walking into the night. Mara grabbed Benny's arm, her heart pounding. "That's it. She's meeting some dude. We follow her."
Benny hesitated, his face flushed in the dark. "Mara, this could be dangerous. What if—"
"Fuck that," she whispered fiercely, already pulling him out the back. "If she's cheating, we get proof. Come on."
They tailed her from a distance, sticking to shadows, hearts hammering as Anastasia led them deeper into the neighborhood, past a few lawns and into a dimly lit park a few blocks over. The air was cool, crisp, carrying that late-night silence where every rustle felt amplified. They ducked behind bushes, close enough to see evrything but hidden, as Anastasia approached a bench where a young couple was tangled up, making out heavy—hands roaming, lips locked, the guy's arm around the girl's waist pulling her closer.
Anastasia stopped right in front of them, just standing there, staring down. The couple broke apart, noticing her. The guy looked pissed, wiping his mouth. "Can I help you?" No answer from Anastasia, just that steady gaze, her red nails catching faint light as her hand hung loose at her side. The guy shifted, annoyed. "Hey, lady, what the fuck do you want?"
Still nothing. The silence stretched, turning creepy, the girl clutching the guy's arm now, uneasy. The guy stood up fast, all macho posturing, chest puffed. "I said—"
It happened so quick Mara almost missed it. Anastasia's hand shot up, those long red nails flashing like blades, a swift slash across the guy's throat. Blood sprayed hot and dark, arcing in the moonlight, and before he could even gurgle, Anastasia's head darted forward, mouth latching onto the gash. She drank deep, gulps audible in the still night, the guy's body jerking once, twice, then slumping lifeless in to her arms, blood pooling black on the pavement.
The girl stared, frozen in shock, mouth open in a silent scream before it ripped out as one sharp, piercing wail. Anastasia released the guy, turning with blood smeared gloss on her lips, and lunged. Fangs—Mara saw them now, sharp and real—sinking into the girl's neck. The scream cut off wetly, body twitching as Anastasia fed, those huge tits pressing against the struggling girl, red nails digging into shoulders for leverage.
Benny freaked first, crashing backward into the bushes. "Holy shit, holy fucking shit, Mara—what the fuck—" His voice cracked, phone tumbling from his hand where he'd been filming shaky footage.
Mara's world spun, stomach churning, but she clamped a hand over his mouth, dragging him deeper into the dark. "Shut up, Benny! Fuck, calm down!" Her own voice shook, but she forced steel into it, mind racing. Anastasia finished, wiping her mouth delicately with one nail, then just... walked away, like nothing happened, heels clicking faintly as she vanished into the night.
They scrambled home, Benny hyperventilating the whole way, Mara gripping his sleeve tight. Back in her room, door locked, she paced while he sat on the bed, pale as hell. "That wasn't cheating," he muttered. "That was... vampire shit. Real fucking vampire."
Mara stopped, staring out the window where the park lights still glowed distant. "Yeah. But we got it on video? Your phone—"
He checked, nodding shakily. "Some of it. Blurry, but... the slash, the drinking. Fuck, Mara, we call the cops?"
"Not yet." She sat beside him, mind whirring. "It's not enough. She'll deny it. Say it's fake, blurry deepfake bullshit. Everyone will believe her over us. We need more. Clear proof. Next time she goes out, we follow again, film better. Then we show Dad, the police, everyone."
Benny swallowed hard, but nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." Mara leaned into him a bit, needing the familiar comfort of her best friend, even as her skin crawled thinking about those red nails slicing flesh, the way Anastasia's body had moved—so graceful, so deadly.
The next day dragged endless. Mara played it cool at home, chatting with Anastasia over breakfast like nothing was wrong. The stepmom looked flawless as ever—hair perfect, makeup subtle but smoky around the eyes, wearing a silk robe that gaped just enough to show cleavage from those massive fake tits, red nails wrapping around a coffee mug. "Sleep well, sweetie?" she asked, voice smooth as honey.
"Yeah, great," Mara lied, forcing a smile. That evening, she packed an overnight bag loud enough for Anastasia to hear. "Crashing at Sarah's tonight. Study group ran late—might just stay over."
Anastasia's lips curved, those pointy nails tapping the counter. "Have fun, darling. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Mara rolled her eyes inwardly, texting Benny as she "left." He picked her up a block away, and they parked across the street, hidden in his car, waiting as night fell.
Hours ticked by. Nothing. No movement from the house. Benny fidgeted. "Maybe she's full. From last night."
"Or maybe she knows," Mara whispered, panic creeping in for the first time. Her heart thudded uneven. What if Anastasia had seen them? Smelled them? Those horror stories flashed—vampires knowing everything.
Benny reached over, squeezing her hand. "We bail if—"
Headlights cut the dark. A beat-up car pulled up, lanky guy inside—kinda skinny, awkward, climbing out with a pizza box from the backseat. Delivery dude, obviously. He rang the bell.
Door opened, and there was Anastasia—fuck, dressed to kill. Tiny black lace lingerie barely covering anything, those huge tits spilling over a push-up bra, ass cheeks peeking from thong panties, sheer stockings held by garters, sky-high red heels making her legs look infinite. Red nails gleamed as she beckoned him in with one finger.
Pizza guy stepped inside, door closing. Five minutes. Ten. No sign of him leaving.
Mara's breath hitched. "He's not coming out. She's... doing something."
Benny's eyes were wide, glued to the house. "We go in?"
"Fuck yes." Adrenaline surged. They slipped out, circling through the massive garden—past the pool glowing blue in the dark, uncut hedges hiding them as they crept to the sliding glass doors left cracked open for air.
Inside was lit warm, modern open plan—kitchen flowing to living room. Pizza box sat ignored on the counter. Voices drifted from the living area: Anastasia's low, sultry murmur, the guy's responses weak, slurred.
They peeked from the shadows Looking for a position to see something. Pizza dude stood there, posture slumped, eyes locked on Anastasia as she circled him slow, like a predator. She wore that lingerie like armor, heels clicking soft on hardwood, red nails trailing lightly over his shoulder as she spoke words they couldn't quite catch—seductive, rhythmic, pulling him in.
His gaze went glassy, body swaying. Anastasia smiled, lifting one hand, sweeping a single long red nail inches from his face, back and forth, slow pendulum.
He dropped to his knees instantly, lips pressing reverent kisses to her heels, tongue darting out to lick the shiny leather. Hands fumbled at his clothes—shirt off, pants down—stripping clumsy but urgent as he worshipped those shoes, crawling after her when she turned, ass swaying hypnotic as she led him toward the stairs.
Mara and Benny exchanged a look—pure shock, but something hotter twisting low in Mara's belly watching this domination unfold. Phone out, Benny started rolling again as they crept closer, silent, following up the plush carpeted stairs.
At the master bedroom door, left ajar just a sliver, they peered in.
Pizza guy—fully naked now, cock hard and throbbing—lay splayed on the massive bed, arms out, staring up in total awe. Anastasia straddled his thigh, one hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking slow and firm, those red nails grazing teasingly close to skin without scratching. Her other hand held his wrist to her mouth, fangs sunk shallow, sipping blood in lazy pulls as she pumped him.
He moaned loud, hips bucking, completely lost. "Please... oh fuck..."
She hummed around the bite, stroking faster, thumbnail circling the head slick with precum. He came quickly, ropes shooting high, splattering her palm as she angled it to catch every drop.
Anastasia released his wrist, licking it and the punctures closed somehow, then brought her cum-filled hand to her lips, tongue lapping it all up slow, eyes half-lidded in bliss. Last thick swallow, and she sighed, body arching as power visibly rushed through her—skin glowing, tits heaving.
Mara couldn't look away, thighs clenching involuntary, heat building fast between her legs watching those nails, that control. Benny's breathing was ragged beside her, phone steady but hand shaking.
Then a silent buzz. His phone vibrated in the silence—a stupid message notification.
The bedroom door swung open wide on its own, no hand touching it and there stood Anastasia, blood and cum shiny on her lips, eyes locking on them both.
"Naughty children," she purred, voice dripping dark amusement. "Spying on Mommy?"
Mara’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard she felt it in her throat, the bedroom air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the musky scent of fresh cum. Anastasia stood framed in the doorway, naked except for those sheer black stockings and garters, her massive tits heaving slow, red glossy lips curled in a smirk that was equal parts amused and predatory. Those two-inch nails caught the low light like wet rubies as she lifted one hand, fingers splayed.
“Naughty, naughty,” she purred again, voice low and velvet, sliding straight into Mara’s spine like warm oil. “You two really thought you could sneak up on me?”
Benny made a choked sound, stumbling back a step, phone still clutched white-knuckled in his hand. Mara felt her own legs lock in place before she even realized what was happening—some invisible pressure wrapping around her ankles, her wrists, pinning her arms to her sides. Benny froze mid-step too, like someone hit pause on him. Tele-fucking-kinesis. Real. Right in front of them.
“Fuck you,” Mara spat, forcing the words out even as her body refused to move. “You murdering bitch. We saw what you did in the park. We’ve got it all on video.”
Anastasia tilted her head, black hair cascading over one bare shoulder, and took a slow step forward. Her heels didn’t make a sound on the carpet now; she was gliding, hips rolling, that perfect round ass flexing with every motion. “Do you, darling? Let’s see.”
She flicked two fingers. Benny’s phone ripped from his grip, flying across the room into her waiting palm. Those long red nails tapped the screen once, twice —unlocking it somehow without the code. Her eyes glowed faintly, a deep crimson shimmer, as she scrolled. “I can't seem to find anything About me but...Oh my. So many pictures of my sweet stepdaughter.” She turned the screen toward Mara.
There they were—dozens of candid shots Benny had secretly snapped over the years: Mara bending over to grab something from her locker, her ass tight in yoga pants; Mara laughing by the pool in a bikini, tits bouncing; Mara asleep on his couch during movie night, lips parted, one leg kicked out. Hundreds of them. Even some zoomed-in shots of her feet in sandals, toes painted pink, soles arched.
Benny’s face went scarlet. “I—I didn’t—”
“Shut up,” Mara hissed at him, but her voice cracked. Betrayal burned hot in her chest, mixing with the fear and the weird, unwanted heat that had been building between her thighs since she watched Anastasia milk that delivery guy dry.
Anastasia laughed, low and throaty, tossing the phone onto the bed beside the limp, naked pizza guy. He was still breathing—shallow, dazed—but alive, cock soft now against his thigh, wrist dotted with two neat punctures. “Boys are so predictable. Always thinking with the wrong head.” She stepped closer to Benny, close enough that her nipples brushed his chest through his shirt. He whimpered. “But you, Mara…” She turned, eyes locking on Mara’s. “You’re different. I’ve watched you watching me. The way your pretty little pulse jumps when I walk into a room in my heels. The way you stare at my nails when I paint them fresh.”
Mara tried to deny it, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words. Anastasia raised her hand again, and Mara felt her body yanked forward—no steps, just dragged through the air until she was inches from that flawless, blood-flushed face. Anastasia’s breath was warm, faintly coppery, insanely intoxicating.
“I could kill you both right now,” Anastasia whispered, one sharp nail tracing down Mara’s cheek without breaking skin, leaving a tingling trail. “Snap your necks with a thought. Drain you dry and dump the bodies where no one would ever find them.” The nail dipped lower, over Mara’s collarbone, hooking the neckline of her cropped hoodie and tugging it down slow. Cool air hit Mara’s tits as the fabric stretched, nipples hardening instantly. “But that would be such a waste.”
Benny made a strangled noise. Anastasia glanced at him, smirking, and flicked her wrist. His body slammed back against the wall, arms pinned spread-eagle, feet dangling an inch off the floor. “Stay,” she commanded, like he was a dog. His mouth opened, but no sound came out—she’d stolen his voice with a lazy gesture.
Mara tried to twist away, panic surging, but Anastasia’s magic tightened, forcing her arms behind her back, arching her chest forward until her perky tits strained against her bra. “Let me go, you fucking psycho—”
Anastasia’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around Mara’s throat—not squeezing, just holding, those long nails pricking lightly at the pulse point. “Language, baby girl. Mommy doesn’t like it.” She leaned in, lips brushing Mara’s ear. “I could make you beg for it instead.”
Heat flooded Mara’s core against her will, pussy clenching hard. She hated it. She hated how wet she was getting, how her hips twitched forward seeking friction that wasn’t there. Anastasia inhaled deep, smiling like she could smell it.
“Fight me,” Mara growled through clenched teeth, jerking against the invisible bonds. “Come on, bitch. Let me go and fight me fair.”
Anastasia’s eyes flashed bright red. “Oh, honey. You couldn’t handle fair.” She released Mara’s throat, stepping back and crooking one finger.
The magic snapped off. Mara stumbled forward, free for a split second—then lunged, swinging hard for Anastasia’s face.
It never landed. Anastasia’s hand caught Mara’s wrist mid-air, grip like steel wrapped in silk, nails digging in just enough to sting. With a casual twist, she spun Mara around, slamming her front-first against the nearest wall. Mara grunted, tits squishing against cool paint, ass pushing back involuntarily as Anastasia pressed in from behind—those huge fake tits molding to Mara’s back, hips grinding slow.
“See?” Anastasia murmured, free hand sliding down Mara’s stomach, popping the button on her jeans. “You’re already soaked for me.” Fingers dipped under the waistband, tracing the edge of Mara’s lace panties. One nail teased over her clit through the fabric, light as a feather, and Mara’s knees nearly buckled.
“Get—off—me,” Mara gasped, but her hips rolled into the touch anyway.
Anastasia chuckled, withdrawing her hand and stepping back. “Fine. You want to fight? Let’s play.”
She waved both hands like conducting an orchestra. The air shimmered. Mara’s clothes ripped away in shreds—hoodie, jeans, bra, panties—torn off by invisible claws until she stood completely naked, goosebumps racing over her skin.
Mara charged again, fists flying. Anastasia danced back effortless, laughing, catching every punch with one hand while the other gestured. Each time Mara swung and missed, a pulse of magic slapped her ass hard—sharp, stinging, making her yelp. After the fifth miss, her ass cheeks burned hot and pink.
“Pathetic,” Anastasia taunted, suddenly behind her—teleport? Or just that fast? One arm snaked around Mara’s waist, pulling her back flush against those massive tits, while the other hand cupped Mara’s pussy possessively. Two fingers slid inside easy, curling, pumping slow. “Look how greedy your little cunt is. Sucking me right in.”
Mara moaned despite herself, head falling back against Anastasia’s shoulder, thighs spreading wider on instinct. “F-fuck you…”
“That’s the idea,” Anastasia whispered, fangs grazing Mara’s neck without breaking skin. She finger-fucked Mara steady, thumb circling her clit, those long nails careful not to scratch delicate flesh. Every thrust sent sparks up Mara’s spine, building fast, too fast.
Benny watched from the wall, eyes huge, cock straining obviously against his jeans even through the magical hold. Anastasia glanced at him, smirking, and crooked a finger. His zipper flew down on its own, cock springing free, hard and leaking. He groaned silently as invisible fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking slow in perfect time with how she fingered Mara.
Mara’s orgasm hit sudden and brutal, pussy clamping down, juices dripping down Anastasia’s wrist. She cried out, body shaking, but Anastasia didn’t stop—kept pumping through it, drawing it out until Mara sagged, oversensitive and panting.
Only then did Anastasia release her, letting her slide to her knees on the carpet. Mara looked up, dazed, lips parted—and Anastasia stepped forward, pressing one high-heeled foot between Mara’s thighs, the pointed toe nudging her swollen clit.
“Still want to fight, baby?” Anastasia asked softly, red nails combing through Mara’s blonde hair. “Or do you want to admit what you really need?”
Mara’s hands rose on their own—no, not magic this time, just raw want—wrapping around Anastasia’s calf, fingers digging into smooth skin above the stocking. She leaned in, lips brushing the shiny red leather of the heel, tongue darting out for a taste.
Anastasia hummed approval. “Good girl. But we’re just getting started.”
She looked over at Benny, still pinned and helplessly hard, and smiled sharp.
“Your turn to watch closely, perv. Pay attention—this is what real power looks like.”
Mara’s tongue slid slow along the arch of Anastasia’s heel, tasting leather and that faint metallic tang that clung to everything Anastasia touched tonight. Her hands gripped the vampire’s calf tighter, thumbs pressing into the nylon tops of those stockings, feeling the heat radiating off flawless skin. Shame burned in her chest, but the throb between her legs was louder, drowning it out.
Anastasia looked down at her, eyes hooded, lips parted just enough to show the tips of fangs. “That’s it, baby girl. Worship properly.” She shifted her weight, pressing the pointed toe harder against Mara’s slick pussy, rubbing in small circles that made Mara gasp against the shoe. “Show your friend how grateful you are for this lesson.”
Benny hung pinned to the wall, cock jutting out painfully hard, precum beading at the tip while invisible fingers kept stroking him—slow, merciless, never quite enough to push him over. His eyes were locked on Mara, wide with a mix of horror and raw lust he couldn’t hide anymore.
Anastasia lifted her foot away suddenly, leaving Mara whining at the loss. With a lazy wave, she released Benny from the wall. He dropped to his knees hard, gasping as his voice came rushing back. “Mara—fuck—don’t—”
“Quiet,” Anastasia snapped, and the word hit him like a slap. His mouth sealed again, but his chest heaved, panicked breaths whistling through his nose.
She turned her attention fully on Mara, crouching down graceful in those heels, massive tits swaying heavy as she cupped Mara’s chin with one hand. Those red nails framed her face like claws ready to strike. “You’re fighting the wrong enemy, sweetheart. All that anger at me? It’s just fear of how much you want this.” Her thumb brushed Mara’s bottom lip, then pushed inside. Mara sucked on it instinctively, tongue swirling, tasting salt and something darker.
Anastasia’s other hand trailed down Mara’s body—over perky tits, pinching one nipple sharp enough to make her arch—then lower, two fingers sliding back into that dripping pussy without warning. She pumped deep, curling, hitting that spot that made Mara’s thighs quake. “Feel that? Your body already knows who it belongs to.”
Mara moaned around the thumb, hips rocking forward, chasing the thrust. She hated how good it felt, how every stroke wound the coil tighter in her belly. Anastasia added a third finger, stretching her, while her thumb rolled Mara’s clit in tight circles. The pace built fast—relentless, perfect, those long nails somehow never scratching delicate skin.
“Come for Mommy again,” Anastasia whispered, voice a dark command. “Show me you’re ready to learn.”
The orgasm crashed through Mara like lightning, pussy clenching hard around those fingers, juices running down Anastasia’s wrist. She cried out, body bowing, nails digging into Anastasia’s thighs for anchor.
Anastasia didn’t let her come down. She withdrew her hand, slick and shining, and brought it to Mara’s mouth. “Clean it.”
Mara obeyed without thinking, tongue lapping eagerly at her own taste mixed with whatever dark essence clung to Anastasia’s skin. Her eyes fluttered half-shut, lost in it.
“Good girl.” Anastasia stood, pulling Mara up by the hair—not rough, just firm—until she was on her feet, legs shaky. With a snap of her fingers, black silk restraints materialized out of thin air, wrapping around Mara’s wrists and yanking her arms up high, hooking invisibly to the ceiling. She dangled there, toes barely touching carpet, body stretched long and exposed.
Anastasia circled her slow, admiring. “Look at you. So pretty when you stop pretending.” One nail traced a line down Mara’s spine, making her shiver. At the side of her neck, the nail pressed harder—just enough to leave a thin red scratch that beaded blood. Anastasia leaned in, tongue lapping it up slow, humming at the taste. The scratch healed almost instantly under her touch, skin knitting flawless.
Benny whimpered from his knees, cock twitching untouched now, the invisible hand gone. Anastasia glanced at him. “Don’t worry, perv. You’ll get your reward soon enough.”
She stepped in front of Mara again, pressing their bodies together—tits to tits, belly to belly. Anastasia’s nipples were hard points dragging across Mara’s. She kissed her, then—deep, claiming, fangs grazing Mara’s lower lip without piercing. Mara kissed back hungry, desperate, moaning into Anastasia’s mouth as those magical fingers returned between her legs, teasing but not entering.
When Anastasia pulled back, her eyes glowed brighter crimson. “You want power, don’t you? Real power. Not your daddy’s money or your little high-school popularity.” She lifted her own wrist to her fangs, biting down quick. Dark blood welled, thick and shimmering. “One taste and you’ll never be weak again. You’ll be like me. Strong. Eternal. Able to make anyone kneel with a look.”
Mara stared at the blood, throat dry, heart pounding. Fear and want twisted tight inside her. “What… what happens to Benny?”
Anastasia smiled slow, fangs flashing. “He’ll be your first feeding. Blood for youth. Cum for power. You need both to finish the turn.” She glanced at Benny, who shook his head frantically, eyes pleading. “He’s been jerking off to you for years, baby. Least he can do is give you what you need now.”
Mara’s gaze flicked to Benny—her best friend since forever, the guy who’d always been there, now on his knees terrified and still rock-hard because of her. Something dark and hungry uncoiled in her chest.
Anastasia brought the bleeding wrist to Mara’s lips. “Drink, Mara. Take what’s yours.”
The scent hit her—rich, intoxicating, like nothing human. Mara’s mouth watered. She leaned forward, tongue darting out for the first taste. It exploded across her senses—fire and velvet and pure fucking ecstasy. She latched on, sucking deep, swallowing greedily as Anastasia moaned soft encouragement, fingers combing through her hair.
Power flooded in with every pull—hot, electric, racing through veins like liquid starlight. Mara felt her body shift, bones humming, skin tightening. Her tits swelled fuller, ass rounding impossibly perfect, waist cinching. Blonde hair thickened, shining brighter. And her nails—fuck—her nails pushed out fast, lengthening into two-inch crimson points, glossy and razor-sharp, just like Anastasia’s.
Anastasia pulled her wrist away gently, licking the punctures closed. “Beautiful,” she purred, stepping back to admire. With a wave, Mara’s restraints vanished, but a new outfit materialized in shreds of black latex and fishnet—tiny top barely containing her new tits, micro skirt that didn’t cover her ass, thigh-high boots with six-inch heels, garters holding sheer stockings. Her toenails painted blood-red through open toes, pedicure flawless.
Mara landed steady in the boots like she’d worn them forever, body thrumming with new strength. She flexed her fingers, admiring those long red nails, feeling the magic crackling at the tips.
Anastasia turned to Benny, snapping her fingers. He floated forward until he hovered horizontally in front of Mara, clothes ripping away, cock bobbing hard and leaking. His eyes were huge, terrified, but his dick betrayed him—throbbing visibly.
“Your first feeding, darling,” Anastasia said, voice proud. “Take what you need. I’ll help.”
She positioned herself behind Mara, hands on her hips, guiding her forward. One of Anastasia’s hands wrapped around Benny’s shaft, stroking slow, while the other guided Mara’s new nails to trace lightly over his chest—leaving faint pink lines that made him shudder.
Mara leaned in, fangs extending on instinct—long, sharp, aching. She could hear his pulse thundering, smell the fear and arousal pouring off him. Her mouth watered again.
“Please… Mara…” Benny finally managed to whisper, voice breaking as Anastasia released his silence just enough.
Mara met his eyes, her own glowing soft red now. “Shh,” she murmured, voice deeper, sultry in a way it never was before. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She struck fast—fangs sinking into his neck clean, blood flooding her mouth hot and sweet. Benny cried out, hips bucking, but Anastasia held him steady with magic, her hand pumping his cock firm and fast now.
Mara drank deep, power surging again, while her hand joined Anastasia’s on his shaft—those new long nails grazing teasingly close, making him moan brokenly. The taste of his blood mixed with the feel of his cock throbbing in her grip was fucking heaven.
She pulled back just enough, licking the bite, keeping him conscious. Anastasia leaned in, her Hands now off, whispering in Mara's ear, “Make him cum for you, baby. Milk every drop.”
Mara’s strokes sped up, twisting perfect, thumb swiping over the head slick with precum. Benny lasted seconds—groaning deep as he erupted, thick ropes shooting across Mara’s new latex-covered tits and Anastasia’s waiting palm.
Anastasia caught it all, then brought her hand to Mara’s lips. Mara licked it eagerly from the palm and nails, swallowing the hot, salty load while staring into Benny’s dazed eyes.
Power slammed into her full force as a final seal on the transformation. She arched, gasping, body glowing faint red as the change locked in permanent.
When it faded, she stood taller, stronger, sexier than ever. Anastasia pressed against her from behind, arms wrapping around, nails scraping lightly over new curves.