Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

He's Like The Wind	By : LordKuyohashi Category: +S through Z > Simpsons Views: 6265 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons, or any related characters, and neither accept nor receive any monetary or compensatory reward for this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
“Mom,” Bart complained, “my hand is starting to cramp up.”
Bart stood over the disturbed soil in the back plot of the cemetery, his cock in hand, stroking it up and down feverishly, precum dribbling onto the overturned covering of an unmarked grave.
Marge watched her son masturbate onto the plot of land, occasionally nudging Homer to keep him awake. Homer resisted these efforts, dozing off while leaning against the old shovel in his hand, almost as soon as Marge poked him with her elbow.
The three Simpsons were standing in a wooded clearing in the back of the cemetery, separated from the rest of the gravestones by a thicket of elm trees. The silver moonlight cut through the canopy of leaves above them, casting them in deep shadows punctuated by a smattering of light. Before them stood a freshly dug grave, next to one that had been disturbed some days ago. Bart knew this spot well, remembering the night he pushed himself up out of his own grave.
“Well, did you do everything the way I told you to?”
“Yeah, I drained her until her heart slowed, then I bit open my wrist and made her drink my blood.”
“Hmph. She is taking an awfully long time. Homer, help Bart–” Marge noticed Homer propped up against his shovel, and jabbed him with her elbow again, “Homer! Wake up!”
Homer opened his eyes with an anguished start. “Ow! Maaaarge, I’m tiiiiired!”
“Homer, help Bart desecrate the gravesite so Lisa can get out more quickly.”
“Oh no, I’m not jacking Bart off! That’s Lisa’s job!”
Marge sighed, massaging her temples. “Homer, honey, I mean, you jack off onto the gravesite, too. We need to defile the soil to remove the church’s power over it, so Lisa can rise more easily.”
Homer trudged to the side opposite from Bart, working his pants down his hips, his fat, stubby cock hanging out. Bart averted his eyes - this was the last thing he ever wanted to see - and instead turned his gaze upwards at the moon.
“Fine, honey, but it seems to me that burying her in an empty field would have been easier. No church power to break down just to wake her up.”
“True, but this way, we can damage the church’s power at the same time. Besides, burying a neonate on Holy Ground makes them stronger. Now get jacking, both of you. We need to remove the holy energy from this plot of land, and the seed of vampires and thralls alike should do that quite nicely.”
Marge leaned over her son, taking his cock in her hand and giving his wrist a break, stroking him slowly but expertly, aiming his load at the patch of fresh soil. By the time Bart had unloaded his sixth cumshot and Homer his second, the ground began to heave and shift, until finally a slender hand erupted from the dirt, clawing its way to the surface. Bart moved to help Lisa out of her grave, but Marge held him back, a firm hand on his shoulder.
“No, Bart. You know the rules. Either we dig ourselves out on our own, or we never do it at all.”
Bart watched as Lisa sat up, throwing the blanket of soil off of herself. She was wrapped in an old blanket, otherwise nude, her eyes distant and confused, her breathing ragged and erratic. She clambored out of the pit, growling like a beast, head turning about wildly, looking for prey. Marge pushed Bart forward, the young boy putting his hand out to calm his feral, resurrected sister.
“LIsa? Hey, it’s me, Bart? Can you hear me?”
The Lisa-Thing tilted its head at Bart, rabid foam running off its lips. It took a disjointed step forward, the blanket falling away from its body. With a snarl, it leapt at Bart, pinning him to the ground, fangs glistening in the moonlight. Homer raised the shovel to swing at his daughter, only to be frozen in his tracks by Marge’s glowing red gaze.
“No, Homer. Watch. This is how it is.”
Bart strained under Lisa’s weight. She was heavier and far stronger than she looked, and had the added strength of a starved animal helping her. She brought her teeth closer to Bart’s throat, her sour, dead breath burning his nostril, and reared her head back to strike.
Bart screamed.
And was cut off as his sister shoved her tongue down his throat, moaning into him, grinding her bare, smooth slit against the bulge in his shorts. She kissed him deeply and for far longer than she would have been able to if either of them had been mortal, had needed to breathe. After six minutes of loud, lewd making out, Lisa pulled herself up, a toothy grin on her face.
“Baby! Oh fuck, Bart, you smell so good! And your taste! God, I’m so fucking hot right now!”
Marge cleared her throat, alerting her daughter to the presence of her parents. Lisa looked up, and an expression of utter confusion came over her. She climbed off Bart, sitting on the dry leaves littering the ground.
“Mom? Dad? I don’t…where are we? What’s going on?”
Marge smiled gently at her daughter. She remembered her own Awakening; it was 1543 when a young girl named Margarita Miguela Sebastiana Gutierrez de Lara woke up in a stand of pear trees on a hill outside her father’s Galician estate. If her mare, Lady Casadoriggno, had not been there to guide her and bring her back to sanity, she might well have slaughtered her father’s household and eaten half of Galicia in her bloodfrenzy.
“It’s alright, sweetie. You’re safe here. Look around. What do you see?”
Lisa looked uneasily at her mother, but looked at her surroundings, taking it all in. She gaped in awe at the woods around her - it was too cold to be daytime, but everything was so brilliant and bright. Little blue lights darted up and about through the trees, weaving between branches and curling up inside knotholes. She looked at her father, who had again dozed off leaning against his shovel, his cock in hand, dribbling a thin load of cum onto the ground. She giggled at that, then turned her gaze to Bart.
Bart. Sweet, beloved Bart. His face was the same as always, not the most handsome, but to her it shone like a beacon. She wanted to throw herself at him again, to smother him in her kisses, her warmth. She burned to pin him to the ground and fuck him until the stars went out.
Then she inhaled. She wrinkled her nose, and recoiled. Something smelled foul, sour. It was faint, and distant, but she could smell it as if it were right next to her.
“Okay, something weird is happening here. Why are we in the woods?” She stood up, nearly tripped over her discarded blanket, and looked down, seeing her own nudity for the first time.
“And why am I naked?”
Marge grinned. Lisa was handling this all far better than she had in her day.
“We’ll explain that in a minute. First, how do you feel?”
Lisa scratched her head, pulling a rotted twig from her hair. “Um…confused, mostly. A little sleepy. A lot horny,” she didn’t know why she had said that, and to her own mother no less, “and…hungry. Like, really hungry.”
Marge nodded. “Okay, Bart, you take care of that one need you can fulfill for your sister. Homer…Homer, wake up!” Homer sputtered back to life, pretending he had been awake the whole time. Marge sighed, and continued. “Homer, you get the car started. I’ll be back with someone to eat, okay?” Homer grumbled as he walked back to the car. Marge vanished while Lisa turned her full attention to her brother, who pulled her close to him.
“Bart, I don’t get any of this. What’s happening?”
Bart smiled, nuzzling his sister. “What’s the last thing you remember, baby?”
Lisa thought for a bit. “I remember…we were fucking in my room. You were…oh god…” The memory enticed Lisa to reach down for her bald cunny, rubbing her netherlips roughly. “Oh ffffuck, Bart, you were so deep inside me, fucking me so hard. I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming.”
Bart rubbed his bulging cock against Lisa’s thighs. “Then what happened?”
“Um…shit, hang on…then I asked you something. I…did I ask you to bite me?”
“That’s not exactly how you phrased it.”
A few seconds passed, then memory lit up her eyes. “I asked you to kill me! Why would I do that?”
Bart gave a dark chuckle. “It’s something especially broken thralls do. Does the name ‘Renfield’ mean anything to you?”
“R. M. Renfield, a character from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. He was a solicitor sent to Transylvania to work on Count Dracula’s real estate account, before Jonathon Harker was assigned the case. Dracula drove him insane by promising to make him a vampire.”
Lisa ruminated on what she had just said, understanding slowly dawning on her.
“Oh fuck, Bart, I ate fucking bugs! Renfield ate bugs! Are you a fucking vampire?”
Bart laughed out loud, sitting in the dirt, pulling Lisa into his lap.
“Holy shit, Lisa, you’ve been my mind controlled fucktoy for a solid fucking week and it never occurred to you that your brother, who had no body temperature, who now had fangs and red eyes and who regularly drank your blood, was a fucking vampire? Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”
Lisa instinctively adjusted herself so that Bart’s hard cock pushed against the opening of her cunt, straddling him and lowering herself until he was balls deep inside her. She automatically began riding him, as if programmed to do so.
“Hey, cut me some slack, Bart. My head feels like it was on autopilot for a month. Everything feels like a manic blur, all…I dunno, all calliope music and flashing lights and screaming.”
As Lisa pumped herself along Bart’s cock, grunting and hissing as he hit her special spots, she looked past his shoulder, to the unmade bed of dirt which she had recently pulled herself out of.
More epiphany fell upon her.
“Fuck…Bart, did I come out of that grave?”
Bart looked back at Lisa’s former resting place, his fingers digging into her ass flesh.
“What do you think, Lees?”
Lisa’s red eyes went wide, flashing brightly. “Bartholomew Jojo Simpson, did you turn me into a fucking vampire?”
Bart flashed his fangs when he smiled sheepishly. “Surprise?”
He was certain she was going to hit him. Instead, she wrapped him up into a deep kiss that would have sucked his soul out if he still had one, her hands running down his back as she rutted against him. She broke the kiss, a giddy, lustful look in her eyes.
“Oh fuck! This is all so insane! How did this happen?”
“I’ll let Mom explain that one, she’s better at it than I am.”
“Mom’s a vampire, too? What the fuck? What about Dad?”
Bart shook his head. “Nope. Dad’s…Dad’s like what you were. A thrall. Mom’s slave.”
“Yeah, that makes sense, he’s pretty fucking devoted to her. Just like I was. Just like I am.”
Lisa began pounding her cunt onto Bart’s cock harder and harder, yelping as her brother delved deeper into her pussy than either of them thought possible.
“Fuck, Bart, fuck me harder! Holy shit, I need your cock! Fucking wreck my little cunt with that monster!”
Bart grunted as Lisa rammed herself onto him over and over. His mouth found her throat, fangs dragging along her pale, vulnerable flesh.
“Fffuck, Lisa, you tast even better as a vampire. I never want to pull my cock out of you. I want to just sit here, fucking you forever!”
Lisa threw her head back, shrieking maniacally as she rode her brother/sire, her cunt muscles squeezing on his shaft, milking him until a torrent of thick, icy cum flooding her guts. Lisa pumped herself against Bart, her stamina flagging, her rhythm slowing down, as spurt after spurt of incestuous, vampiric seed rushed into her cold, undead womb, clinging to Bart’s chest like it were a life preserver. She scrambled to calm her haggard breathing, when a twig broke behind them. Half-turning, Lisa saw Marge duck under a tree branch as re-entered the grove. She threw a leg over Bart’s thighs, turning herself around without dislodging his cock from it’s cold resting place, and smiled shyly at her mother.
“Hi, Mom! Guess what? Bart’s a vampire, her turned me into a vampire, I guess you already knew that since apparently you’re a vampire too, and Bart and I are fucking like rabbits!”
Marge blinked at her naked, splayed out daughter, her son’s seed dribbling out of the girls stretched out cunt.
“Yes, Lisa, I do know all that. Are you still hungry, sweetie?”
Lisa nodded excitedly. It was like she couldn’t slow her brain down, and her recent breeding only lit a fire in her that had to burn out. Marge stood aside, revealing a familiar figure standing in the moonlight.
Jessica Lovejoy, wearing her powder blue nightgown, her eyes vacant and sluggish.
Marge pushed the drowsy girl forward, towards her still fucking children.
“Jessica Lovejoy offered to be your first meal, sweetie. Just be very careful. Bart will tell you when to stop feeding. You do not want to kill your first victim, and especially not a Reverend’s daughter, not after what happened to her mother. So drink slow, drink deep, and when Bart tells you to stop feeding, you stop right away.”
Lisa nodded, not certain if she understood all this. Marge nodded to Jessica, “Alright, Jessica, go to Lisa. She’s your Mistress for tonight.”
Like a puppet on a string, Jessica staggered over to Lisa and Bart. She knelt before the naked girl, turning her head to the side. Lisa looked to her mother, unsure.
“Mom, is this really okay?”
“Sweetie, now is not the time to be timid. Your first feeding is your most important one. Now, the human body can spare to lose three quarts of blood before death is a certainty, but Jessica is only a child, so she probably doesn’t even have three quarts to give up. So for a girl of her size, and a vampire of yours, a quarter of a quart should suffice. I would have preferred to bring you her father, adults can stand to lose more blood than children can, but…well, I had to choose between the devout clergyman and his reprobate, sinful daughter, which for our kind is like choosing between battery acid and delicious frosty chocolate milkshakes.”
Marge realised she was still talking, before she shut herself up, nodded to Lisa, and watched as her daughter gripped Jessica Lovejoy by the head, open her toothsome mouth wide, and sink her shark-like fangs into the girl’s neck. Jessica whimpered as Lisa noisily drank from her throat, gulping down her hot, rich blood. Her eyes glowed bright red, and she gripped Jessica harder, her animal need overriding her reason, before Bart slapped her hands away from Jessica, forcing her to release the girl. Jessica fell to the ground limply, her nightgown stained red as her blood rushed out of the twin wounds on her throat. Bart quickly grabbed Lisa’s left wrist, ignored her protest, and bit down hard, opening a gouge in Lisa’s arm that ran black with thick, cold blood.
“Quick, Lees, get this into her!”
“What? Why?”
“Lisa, she will die! Vampire blood heals, feed it to her!”
Lisa quickly pulled Jessica up by the hair, pressing her leaking wrist to the bleeding girl’s face. When Jessica made no move to swallow Lisa’s blood, Lisa’s eye burned red with urgency, and her voice came out as a low, commanding rumble.
“Drink it, you stupid fucking sow!”
Jessica opened her mouth, her tongue lapping up Lisa’s wrist. Life seemed to return to her eyes, and she pulled the offered arm closer, sucking as much blood into her mouth as she could. Lisa grunted in pain as Jessica smeared the foul liquid on her face, then pulled away, swallowing the last mouthful. Lisa clutched her bleeding wrist to her chest, watching as the wound knitted itself together in seconds, then wiping what blood remained on Jessica’s stained and ruined nightgown.
Marge helped Jessica to her feet, and nodded to her offspring, still engaged in their coitus.
“I’ll get her home and into something less bloodstained, you two finish up here and get in the car. We have a lot to talk about at home, I imagine.” With that, she carried Jessica out of the grove like a sack of flour, and vanished in a rush of wind.
Lisa gyrated against Bart, trying to work him hard again inside herself.
“Think you’ve got another load in you, big brother?”
Bart nipped at her neck playfully. “I might be an undead sexgod, Lees, but even I need to recharge. Why don’t we go to the car, I’m pretty sure Count Dickula will be ready to rise from his grave again by the time we buckle up.”
Lisa groaned in pain. “Oh god, Bart, really? ‘Count Dickula?’ That’s the best you could do?”
She pulled herself off of Bart’s cock, a torrent of cum rushing out of her battered hole, and stood on her wobbly, newborn legs. She helped Bart to his feet, and hand in hand, they walked out of the grove down to the car, Bart keeping her close to him.

In the car, Homer was, surprise of all surprises, napping lazily. Bart realised that his Dad had been sleeping most of the time since he had returned from his youthful escapades, and wondered to himself if perhaps his mother wasn’t working him too hard or drinking too much of his no-doubt bacon-flavoured blood. These thoughts died a quick death as soon as he sat down in the back seat, as Lisa plopped herself back onto his cock, and hastily buckled the two of them into place together. She wriggled her ass against her brother, sticking her tongue out at him impishly.
“God, Bart, everything is so amazing now. The stars are so bright, the sounds are so much clearer, and even feeling your cock inside me is more intense. I want us to fuck all the fucking time. I mean, as soon as we wake up, as soon as we get home from school - hell, we can fuck at school, I don’t give a shit, I just know that I want this cock in me twenty-four-seven. I want you to fuck me like you can knock me up!”
She shuddered as she mentioned her getting knocked up, the idea sending a delightful little tingle up her spine. Her shivering made her cunt spasm against Bart’s cock and the siblings groaned at the shared sensation.
The passenger door opened up, and Marge slid in, smiling at the sight of Lisa bouncing in Bart’s lap. She bit her lip watching her kids fuck, buckled herself in and nudged Homer awake again, her husband sleepily starting the car, and pulling out for home.

Bart and Lisa fucked the entire trip back home, he filling her with his seed four more times, and showing no sign of stopping that night. When they pulled into the car, Lisa reluctantly popped her brother’s cock from her gooey cunt, leading Bart into the house by his thick, meaty cock, his cum running down her fingers.
The pair of them ran up the stairs as soon as they got inside. Marge called after them in a deep, echoing voice that seemed to resonate inside their skulls, stopping them midstep in the hallway.
“I want you kids in the tub, you hear! You’re not tracking dirt all over my nice clean carpets, either of you!”
Bart pulled Lisa up against the wall, giggling. He leaned in to kiss her, tongues wrapped around one another, his hand caressing her bare ass. “You heard Mom, Lees. Guess we’ll have to share a bath, hm?”
Lisa feigned disgust, wrinkling her nose at the idea even as she cupped her brother’s cum-filled ballsack. “Ugh, how gross; sitting in a tub full of Bart soup.”
“I suppose we’ll just have to take our mind off of how disgusting the whole idea is by fucking each other brainless.”
“Well, if we must.”
Marge listened to the impish giggling and scampering of feet, then the click of the bathroom door and the water running. She turned to Homer, who had staked out a place on the couch to sleep.
“Homer, for God’s sake, why are you so tired tonight?”
Homer cracked an eye open, whining, “Come on, Marge, I had to work today, I had to dig that hole for Lisa, I have to feed you so you don’t go on a killing spree, I have to muster the energy for your insanely long snuggle sessions - don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to do all that for you, I love you more than anything, baby. But I still need rest every now and then! I’m only human!”
Marge thought for a second, and sat next to her husband on the couch, presenting her neck to him. She held up her left hand, and the fingernail on her pinky slowly extended into a razor sharp claw, which she then drew along her jugular, drawing a trickle of thick, black blood.
“Maybe I have been running you ragged, Homie. Here, you deserve your reward for all your hard work. Come, thrall, and accept your Mistress’ gift.”
Homer sluggishly slapped his mouth over the oozing cut on his wife’s neck, and greedily sucked down her blood. He seemed to become reinvigorated with every swallow, until she pushed him off, noticing the fat bulge tenting in his pants.
“There, feel better honey?”
Homer growled like a beast, his eyes dark and hooded. He picked Marge up, slinging her over his shoulder, and carried her upstairs to the bedroom, Marge giggling the whole way.
“Oh god, I created a monster!” As they reached the top of the stairs, she called out, “Kids, make sure you clean up in there, after you’re done!”
In the bathroom, Lisa sat on the closed toilet, kicking her feet excitedly, watching Bart’s ass and scrotum as he filled the tub, steam rising up from the water as it ran.
“It would be better if we got in the tub, then ran the water, Bart. That way, we’d know just how much water to put in and wouldn’t overfill the tub.”
Bart shook his head. “Nope, vampire survival rule # 1, Lees: stay away from running water. We gotta fill the tub, turn off the tap, then we can get in. It’s why we can’t take showers anymore, too.”
“What, does running water kill us?”
“Dunno, Mom didn’t explain what happens, just that we have to stay away from running water. Streams, rivers, running faucets…rain is a grey area, I think it has something to do with volume. A certain amount of water is fine, but over a certain threshold, and we run into problems.”
Lisa licked her lips impatiently. She wanted to be in the water, pressed up against Bart. Her cunt felt empty, despite the many loads he had planted in her tonight. She was addicted to him and to his cock, and she needed a near-constant fix.
“So Mom gave you the full run-down on vampire rules?”
“Most of them, yeah. Like, don’t draw attention to the family, don’t ever drink the blood of a baby, those are pretty much the big ones. She’ll fill you in on the rest later, I suppose.”
Lisa silently slid up behind Bart as he watched the tub fill up, slipping her hand around his cock.
“C’mon Bart, fuck me again while we wait for the water. My pussy feels so cold and empty without you inside it.”
A crooked smile crossed Bart’s lips as Lisa teasingly stroked him back to hardness.
“Jesus Christ, Lees, I thought being embraced would cure you of your insanity, but you’re still a crazy slut, aren’t you?”
Lisa spun Bart around, leaning into him so far that he nearly toppled into the filling tub, their noses touching, her thumb pressed against the slit of his throbbing cock.
“What I am, my dear, beloved, brother, is a fucking predator; and I. Want. My. Meat.”
Bart chewed his lip, his red eyes flashing at his nymphomaniacal sister hungrily.
“On your knees, little sister.”
Lisa grinned, and clapped giddily, sinking to her knees and licking her lips.
“Oh goody! I love sucking your cock, Bart! Let’s see how deep I can take it now that I don’t have to breathe anymore!”
She ran her tongue along the length of Bart’s shafting, probing under his foreskin, tickling at his swollen knob. She watched Bart’s head roll back in ecstasy as she slid her tongue down the underside towards his heavy, hanging ball sack. She slipped under his scrotum, sucking each cum-filled orb into her mouth.
Bart looked down at his sister. Quickly glancing back at the filling tub, he reached to turn off the water, and pulled Lisa to her feet, shoving his tongue down her throat, then stepping into the tub.
Lisa settled into the tub, straddling Bart’s face, pressing her scalding, needy cunt against his face, wriggling her ass and humping against his nose. She giggled, laying along his body, and ducked her head under the steamy bathwater, taking his hard cock into her throat down to the root.
Bart leered at Lisa’s cunt, parting her lips and excavating into her depths with his tongue, rummaging through her tunnel like an animal. Lisa humped against the invading muscle, water sloshing against the walls of the tub as the two siblings explored one another.
Lisa worked her mouth back and forth along Bart’s cock, savouring the rich taste, testing to see how deep she could take his meat. The cock was cold in her throat, but the leaking seed dribbling down her clenching gullet was hot and thick and sweet. She shivered as Bart pressed his tongue into her cunny, and she flexed her muscles, squeezing on his tongue as it probed into her. She relished in having her throat filled completely with cock, and buried her nose against Bart’s balls. SOmething seemed missing from the experience though, and after a few seconds of trying to choke herself on her brother’s meat, she pulled her head above water, her mouth sliding off the cock with a wet gasping pop. She shifted her position, pulling her cunt away from Bart’s mouth as she moved, and looked back at him, disappointed.
“Lees? What’s wrong? You stopped-”
“Fuck…it turns out that vampires can’t choke on cock. And that was half the fun of having my skull fucked.”
Bart rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Seriously? My dick is going ungobbed because you can’t choke on it?”
Lisa turned around, laying against Bart’s chest, playing with his nipples absently. “I told you in the church that I loved choking on your cock. But, since I don’t need to breathe anymore, I can’t choke on jack-shit. I could cram my gullet with fucking pizza dough and I wouldn’t choke on it. My fucking gag reflex is gone!” She pouted pathetically, giving Bart a pair of blood-red puppy dog eyes.
Bart shook his head, patting Lisa’s ass. “Well, I was enjoying myself, at least. I think your pussy is my favourite thing to eat. Next to virgin sisters, that is.”
Lisa smiled, raking her teeth against Bart’s throat. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to settle for wild, brutal fucking. Think you could wreck me with that beautiful cock of yours, Bart?”
Lisa sidled up Bart’s body, smearing her cunt against his hard cock. She pushed herself up into a straddling position, and moved back, slipping her pussy around his meat, cooing as it filled her up. Bart ran his hand up her plump stomach, to her flat chest, rubbing her dark nipples with his thumb. Lisa gasped at his touch, writhing on top of him like an eel swimming upstream.
“Fuck yes, Bart, play with my fucking titties. I know they’re too small, I know they’re not as big as the girls you look at online, but just pretend they are, please!”
Bart teased Lisa’s nipple, digging his thumb in, twisting it and watching her squirm and buck against him. She was working her abdominal muscles, undulating them along his shaft, milking him like a machine.
“I like your tits, Lisa. They might be small, but that just means I get to make them bigger when I knock you up.”
Lisa lifted herself up an inch, then slammed back down. At the mention of Bart impregnating her, she leaned forward, arching her back, moaning roughly. She licked at his nose, smiling seductively.
“Silly boy; I pulled myself out of my grave tonight. I may not know anything about all this vampire shit, but I do know my biology, and I know that corpses can’t get pregnant.”
“Then how did Mom have three kids? She’s been a vampire since before Mr. Burns was born.”
Lisa’s eyes went wide, her face slack and stunned. She sat back up, shuddering, spasming as the idea of being impregnated by her own brother ran through her brain. Her head rolled back, and with a hushed scream through gritted teeth, she had her first orgasm of that session, her cunt biting down hard on Bart’s cock, almost painfully. As she shook and wracked and stuttered through her cum, she hissed out a string of expletives that only made Bart harder, which in turn only made her cum harder.
“Aaah fffffuck! Fucking cum! Cum in my fucking cunt, you fucking bastard, yes!” She grabbed Bart’s wrists, pinning him to the tub, pushing his head underwater as she rode him, her eyes burning wildly with her old madness as she worked their combined crotches into a frothy mix, the bathwater clouding up, polluted by their sex mixture.
Bart watched from the bottom of the tub as Lisa railed herself like a maniac on his cock. She was moaning something loudly, but the water muffled most of her words, despite her volume.
He could only stare unblinkingly at his cock-crazed sister as she fucked herself into a frenzy, bouncing on his rigid cock, battering his heavy ballsack, until he finally exploded into her with such force that he could fucking hear the cum rushing into her womb.
Lisa froze as Bart flooded her guts with his thick, creamy seed, an electric jolt running through her spine. She clenched her eyes shut, images of Bart’s sperm swimming towards her egg, her young belly distending out into an obscenely round baby bump, her tits swelling into bra-filling milk bags, all filling her vision, all contributing to the apocalyptic orgasm that wracked her body like an earthquake. She let out a shrill hissing shriek as her body melted into a spastic seizure that rocked her shoulders, hiccuping gasps of pleasure forcing her to limply fall onto Bart’s chest, both siblings as still as the dead.
Lisa woke up from her massive orgasm a few minutes later, and slipped her face under the water, kissing Bart’s lips. She sat up, still straddling him, and looked at the cloudy morass they had made of the bathwater. She reached for the chain to unplug the water, then thought for a second, pulling her hand away. Would the tub draining out count as ‘running water?’ She simply didn’t know enough about the rules to justify the risk, so she laid herself back down on Bart’s chest, resting her head under the cloudy water next to his, and closed her eyes to rest, dreaming of the babies shot into her waiting womb.

It was Homer who found the kids in the morning. He had hoisted Lisa and Bart onto towels on the floor, then emptied out the tub, waiting for the smell of cooking bacon to stir them awake. Years of marriage to an elder vampire taught Homer that waking a slumbering bloodsucker was always a bad idea, and if Bart and Lisa were anything like their mother, then he knew that they would be just as grumbly in the morning.
Bart woke up first, his red eyes snapping open, and he lifted himself to his feet, as if rising out of a coffin. Homer smirked - Marge woke up the same way, and he always loved watching her hover out of bed to her feet, he just thought it was neat. Bart stretched his arms upwards as he yawned, scratched his bare, wet belly, and looked around, seeing his Dad holding a stack of folded clothes for them.
“Hi, Dad. Did…did we sleep in the tub all night?”
“Yep. Now, wake up your sister and get dressed, your mother has got breakfast waiting for you.”
Homer left the clothes on the lid of the toilet, and walked downstairs, whistling to himself happily. Bart clucked his tongue, looking down over his sleeping sister. Lisa was still glistening wet, her dark nipples and bruised cunt contrasting against her pale cold skin. Bart looked at her hands, then his own, in fascination; it seems that vampires no longer got wrinkly in the tub. He made an impressed sound, and returned his attention to Lisa. Her chest wasn’t moving, as she didn’t need to breathe, but her eyes were fluttering back and forth under her eyelids, showing that she was dreaming about something. The slight curling of her lips into a soft, gentle smile suggested that her dream was a happy one, and the way she massaged her thighs together told Bart that it was probably a sexy one as well.
Bart knelt down at Lisa’s side, and gently parted her thighs, diving head first into her puffy mound. After a second, Lisa bolted upright with a startled yelp. Bart sat up, an impish smile and a trace of cold, black blood on his lips. Lisa looked at Bart in shock, then at the seeping wound just above her sore and battered pussy.
“Bart! You asshole! You bit me!”
Bart cocked an eyebrow, flashing his sister a confident smirk. “What, you’ve never heard of a love bite?”
Lisa punched him in the arm, and grabbed a wad of toilet paper to staunch the bleeding, grumbling angrily at Bart. When she was certain her wound had healed, she looked to her brother, her anger softened at the goofy look on his smeared face. She leaned in, licked his lips clean, and kissed his cheek.
“Next time you want to wake me up, use that amazing cock of yours, okay? I didn’t break it last night, did I?”
“I dunno, wanna test it out?”
Lisa bit her lip, then caught the scent of bacon. “Mmm, after breakfast, maybe.”
After drying herself off, Lisa found a dress in the stack of clothes, which she slipped over her head, and a pair of white panties, which she looked at with amusement.
“Oh Dad..we should really tell him I won’t be needing these anymore.”
Bart quickly got dressed, Lisa leaving the folded panties on the toiletries shelf, and turned back to Bart, who was adjusting himself in his shorts.
“Race you down to breakfast, Bart.”
By the time Bart had processed Lisa’s challenge, she had already thrown open the bathroom door and barreled down the stairs. He chuckled to himself, impressed that his sister had learned that trick already.
“Damn, Lees…I was right, you are going to be sensational.”
By the time Bart walked into the kitchen, Lisa was sitting at the table, kicking her legs under her chair in a carefree manner, happily chomping on a strip of bacon crisped to perfection. Homer was digging into a pile of bacon and eggs, and Marge was at the counter, scooping a black powder from a large mason jar into a pair of coffee cups, into which she added some boiling water, setting the mugs of greyish liquid in front of Lisa and Bart’s plates. She smiled to her son, almost knowingly, and pulled a chair away from the table, inviting him to sit down.
“Good morning, sweetie. Your sister was just about to tell us how you two slept last night.”
Bart cleared his throat, looked uneasily into his steaming cup of…stuff, and popped a bit of toast from his plate into his mouth.
“Oh, you know how it is, Mom. You pass out in a bathtub balls deep in your nympho undead sister who cums her sweet little brains out when she realizes that vampires can get pregnant, the usual. Tale as old as time, really.”
Homer let out a small burp, washing it down with a gulp of coffee, then setting his cup down.
“Amen, boy. We’ve all been there.”
Bart cocked an eyebrow at his father’s comment, then turned in his chair to face his mother.
“Hey Mom, what’s this stuff in the cups?”
Marge nodded at the steaming cup. Lisa looked at her drink warily, just as unsure of it as Bart was.
“You two just drink that. Don’t ask what it is, just drink it. That’s not a request, Bart.”
Bart made a face at his cup. There were bits of something floating in it, nothing even remotely appetising.
“Is this one of those things where the command is coming from my Beloved Countess and not my mother?”
“Yes. I can always compel you to drink it, if you want.”
Bart shook his head. He hated being compelled, having someone else’s will in his head.
He put his lips to the cup, upended it into his mouth, and coughed as he swallowed a mouthful of ashen, bitter swill. He set the cup down, trying to fight back the urge to retch.
“God, that is awful! It tastes like an ashtray had a baby with a mud puddle!”
Lisa drained her cup in one, tortured gulp, coughing and wheezing as she choked the contents down. Marge stared at Bart, and he finished his cup off to evade her surveillance. After he killed the foul taste with a wad of bacon, he turned again to Marge.
“Okay, we choked that stuff down, so what was it?”
Marge took her seat at the table, carrying a bowl of mashed bananas and spooning the stuff into Maggie’s tiny mouth.
“It’s called Deadman’s Respite. It’s a special brew just for vampires, it allows us to blend in with mortals.”
“So,” Lisa croaked, in between her efforts to scrub the taste off her tongue with her fork, “it lets us walk around in daylight?”
“No, Lisa, we can do that anyway. You’re thinking of movie vampires, they can’t handle the sun. But real vampires, we can manage it just fine, although we do lose a lot of our power during the daylight hours.”
Marge flew an airplane full of banana-mash into Maggie’s mouth, and the small toddler clapped happily, babbling and gesticulating emphatically at her mother’s towering hair. Marge continued her explanation.
“Deadman’s Respite gives vampires something called ‘The Blush of Life.’ It makes our skin tone more…lively, less pale, it allows us to have a body temperature, it hides our undead scent so dogs and cats don’t become hostile towards us, and it…um…it allows vampires to…”
She searched for the right words. She may have been an elder vampire, and beyond petty human morals, but even an elder vampire found explaining the facts of life to their children to be an awkward undertaking.
Luckily, Homer had all the tact and subtlety of a chainsaw-wielding maniac in a tutu.
“It lets vampires have babies.”
“...Yes, thank you, Homer.”
“No problem, babydoll,” Homer said, almost proudly.
Lisa hiccupped. “So…this stuff we just drank…if I had gone through puberty before becoming a vampire, it would have let Bart actually get me pregnant?”
Marge sighed as Maggie swatted a spoonful of breakfast into her hair. “Oh Maggie, look at what you did. Lisa, sweetie, we’re supernatural creatures. Little biological things like puberty don’t matter to us. If you have the Blush of Life, and you take sperm into your womb, you can get pregnant. You’re looking for scientific reasoning in a situation that involves undead immortal bloodsuckers and magic tea.”
Another hiccup from Lisa. “Wait…you mean Bart could get me…p-pregnant….right now?”
Marge smiled as she wiped Maggie's hair and face clean with a damp cloth. “That’s right, honey.”
Lisa’s fork dropped from the table with a loud clatter.
“Whoops, how clumsy of me. Excuse me while I retrieve my wayward cutlery, won’t you?”
Marge rolled her eyes at Lisa’s clumsy excuse, as her eldest daughter slipped under the breakfast table, her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. Sure enough, Bart’s fork dropped against his plate, his eyes going wide, his mouth slack, as wet slurping noises rose up from under the table. Marge smirked, and lifted Maggie from her high chair, snuggling against her.
“Alright, you two, I’m going to put Maggie in her playpen; Homer, you’re going to be late to work if you don’t get a move on. I’ve got some laundry to hang outside, so you two, don’t make too much noise or too much of a mess.”
Homer groaned, while Bart flashed his mother a thumbs-up, his eyes closed as he sank into Lisa’s ministrations. Lisa’s hand popped up from under the table, giving her own thumbs up before vanishing back underneath.
The car pulled out of the driveway, carrying Homer off to the power plant, and Maggie was watching some show with puppets from the safety of her playpen. Marge was in the backyard, hanging a basket of clothes on the line, while Lisa peered up at Bart from under the breakfast table, her lips firmly wrapped around his hard cock. Bart looked down as Lisa swallowed his meat, her head bobbing back and forth.
“Good god, Lisa, you are incorrigible.”
With a wet pop, Lisa withdrew Bart’s cock from her mouth, letting the foamy, sticky piece rest against her cheek. “What can I say, I’m a growing undead girl who needs her protein.”
She furrowed her brow in thought. “Wait, will we grow up? What’s the deal on that?”
Bart only shrugged. “I dunno, I’ve only been a vampire a little longer than you, Lees. I still don’t know all the rules myself.”
Lisa licked along Bart’s shaft, slowly jacking him to full erection, teasing the slit at the end of his fat knob. Bart groaned as a shiver ran up his spine. Lisa slid up Bart’s body, squeezing between his chest and the table, her hand firmly gripping his cock. She licked at his nose, her eyes cloudy with wild lust.
“Drag me upstairs, throw me on your bed and fuck me like the cockhungry brother-fucking breeder whore I am, Bart. I never want to walk again; the only thing I’m ever gonna do with my legs from now on is spread them for your beautiful dick.”
Bart choked on the last bit of bacon. “Holy shit, Lisa, how are you not tired of my dick by now?”
LIsa rubbed her bare slit along Bart’s leg, a thick trail of cunt-jelly smearing on his thigh.
“Nnnnno, Master, I love your dick. I need your dick. Don’t you want to use your little sister as a cumrag, Bart? Pin her down, spread her open, fill her up and fuck her deep?”
Bart growled, not a sound a human would normally make, but deeper, more guttural. With a demonic snarl, he grasped Lisa by the small of the back, and in a rush of wind, the pair were upstairs, Lisa sailing through the air and landing with a creaking thud on his bed. She laughed as she landed, tugging her dress over her head and letting it fall to the floor. She threw her arms over her head, her legs splayed wide open, and beckoned Bart to come to her.
“Your sister and queen is waiting for you, Master. Come and claim your slut!”
Lisa’s eyes were glowing bright yellow by now, something Bart didn’t even know they could do. He pulled off his shirt as he stepped into the room, kicking the door shut before slipping out of his shorts. Lisa stared at his hard cock when it was revealed, bobbing as he walked to the bed, climbed aboard, and pressed his hand against her steaming sex.
The petals of Lisa’s cunny were thick and meaty from repeated poundings. Cunt-oil ran in slender trickles down the fat, puffy lips, pooling under her ass and soaking into Bart’s bedsheets. The room was heavy with the raw, pungent smell of warm, wet pussy, and Lisa cooed as Bart slid between her thighs, his hot manhood pressed against her starving cunt.
“Mmmmmyesss, Master, “ Lisa hissed, as Bart’s helmet slathered itself in her steamy juices, “make my naughty little sister-pussy serve your big, nasty brother-cock!”
Bart smiled as he parted Lisa’s fleshy netherlips with a single push. She arched herself upwards, hissing as he entered into her, drawing him to her lips and wrapping her legs around his waist.
“You know you don’t have to call me ‘Master’, right? You’re not a thrall anymore.”
Lisa panted as Bart began moving, thrusting sharply into her, the bedframe rocking against the wall with a subtle thud.
“Mmmmf…well what do you call the vampire who made you?”
“Depends. If it’s a boy, sire. If it’s a girl, mare. And the vampire you made is called your childer.”
“So…oooh shit, yes, right there, baby! Fuck that pussy!” She gasped, trying to recollect her thoughts, “so you’re my sire, and I’m your childer?”
“Yeah.”
Lisa lifted herself off the bed, clutching Bart’s back with one hand as leverage, her lips brushing against his teasingly.
“Fuck that, I’m gonna call you my Master if I fucking want to.”
Dropping back onto the bed like a dead weight, Lisa placed Bart’s hand at her throat, and pushed it hard against her windpipe, inducing her brother to choke her. A wicked smile crossed her lips, her eyes shifting to a pale blue glow, her fangs protruding from under her curled lips, and a bestial growl rising up from her throat as Bart railed into her, the paint on his wall cracking as the bedframe slammed into the wall over and over, in time with his hard cock pounding deep into his sister’s young cervix.
“Fucking hell, Lees! Your cunt is even tighter than last night! You want that nut, don’t you?”
“Fuck yes, Bart! Shoot all your hot, sticky cum up into me! Fucking seed my womb, you sister-fucking bastard!”
A sound erupted from Lisa’s throat, something dark and inhuman and reverberating deep within her chest. The monster Bart had created had awoken, and it wanted offspring, and it would have them delivered unto her by her brother’s invading member. The Lisa-Thing lifted her hips up to match Bart’s downward thrusts, a savage snarl rising from cruel lips. Bart felt the same lust as his sister, and closed his eyes, ceding control of his body over to his hunger. When he opened his eyes again, they were pale golden pinpricks cast against pitch-black sclera. The Bart-Thing growled, and the pair of creatures locked in an unending rutting cycle bore their fangs, raked their claws against pale, cold flesh and hissed at one another like circling cats rising on their hackles.
Lisa struck first, her fangs digging deep into Bart’s flesh, cold, bitter blood flooding her mouth. She drank deep of her undead sire, her brother, her lover, staining the bedsheets beneath the two of them as they fucked like devils. Either satisfied by her instinctive feeding or repulsed by the foulness of cold dead blood, the Lisa-Thing released her deathgrip, and raised her head, baring her own throat to the Bart-Thing’s maw. The Bart-Thing took advantage, sinking his teeth into his sister’s offered neck, sucking and gulping her black blood, his hips driving his cock into her over and over, fluids ruining the sheets.
Outside, Marge had just finished hanging up the last of Homer’s underpants, an expansive bolt of off-white cloth that, to an untrained eye, could easily be mistaken for the sail of a small boat. Satisfied with a job well done, the clothes flapping in the cool autumn wind like a line of bizarre flags, she turned back towards the house, when a sound like cats fighting made her freeze. She knew that sound. She had heard it. She had made it herself, at least three times. Frantically, she ran inside, quickly checked on Maggie in her playpen - she had managed to peel herself out of her onesie and was happily chewing on half a bread stick - and raced upstairs. The sound was coming from Bart’s room, and underneath the yowling, the hissing, the sound of flesh rending and wet, lewd sucking of thick fluids, was the rhythmic pounding of flesh on flesh, of bed frame against wall.
Marge pushed the door open, and watched from the hall as the monsters she had spawned bred together. Long bloody trails ran down Bart’s back, his flesh cleaved by Lisa’s long fingernails, the two of them horrid messes. Lisa had her legs wrapped around Bart’s waist, and the sight and smell of two undead children in the grips of a blood-rut were almost nauseating to even their ages-old mother. Her eyes burned red, and with a deep, echoing voice directly from the abyss, she growled at her offspring.
“That’s quite enough, the both of you.”
Both children froze in mid-thrust. Bart’s eyes blinked back to normal size and colour, red irises on white sclera, and Lisa seemed to wake from a disturbing nightmare. Confused, they looked to one another, and recoiled in horror.
“Oh fuck, Lees, what the hell!”
Bart tried to pull away, but couldn’t. He was stuck inside his sister.
“Ow! Bart, pull out! God, what happened to you, you’re all bloody!”
“I can’t pull out! Your pussy won’t let me go!”
Marge cleared her throat, making her presence suddenly known. “Stop bickering, the both of you.” She sighed, massaging her temples as she stepped into the room. “This is my fault. I hadn’t considered that fledglings could enter into a blood-rut.”

Bart was panicking, trying to pull away from his sister, but his body kept insisting her push into her, continue fucking her.
“Mom, what the hell? What happened to us?”
“Calm down.” The abyssal voice returned. Mother was to be obeyed. “You both went into a blood-rut. It’s when vampires go into heat. It usually doesn’t happen for a few decades, at least, and you’re both so new I didn’t imagine it would be an issue with either of you until you were about forty or fifty years old.”
“We were tearing at each other, Mom!” Lisa was close to tears.
“Yes, but there’s no permanent damage, sweetie. Neither of you are hurt, your wounds are already healing, and drinking the blood of other vampires won’t make you sick. It tastes awful, but it’s harmless.”
“So why can’t I pull my dick out of Lisa?”
“That…is called a priapism. It has nothing to do with being a vampire. It happens sometimes, a woman’s vaginal muscles will cramp up during sex and trap the man’s penis inside her. It’s not permanent, you’ll just have to keep fucking her until her pussy relaxes.”
Lisa sniffled and finally looked at the black curtain draped over her chest. “Oh god, why would we do this to each other? I love Bart! I don’t want to hurt him!”
“Calm down, Lisa. Both of you, just calm down.”
Marge sat on the ruined bed, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the sheets. “Well, we’ll have to burn these sheets. There’s no saving them now.” She placed a hand on Bart’s back, feeling his cold flesh knit itself back together as the long gouges carved along his spine healed. “You both had a precocious breeding cycle just now. I blame myself. The Deadman’s Respite was meant to help you blend in at school, but I hadn’t considered how it would affect your libidos. No, Lisa, you didn’t mean to hurt Bart. What you two did was instinct. It was the monster acting like a monster. The hunger in you both wants blood, and it wants to breed.”
Bart continued pumping away at Lisa’s hole, almost on autopilot as he drove into her, grunting and panting, trying not to let the monster out again.
Marge continued. “What just happened was a sort of mating dance. Vampires go into a blood-rut to…well…it’s like how…have you ever seen those bighorn sheep butting heads together?”
Lisa, whose attention was split between her mother’s ill-timed lecture and Bart’s divine cocksmanship working her cunny over, nodded, licking her own blood off her chin.
“You were challenging each other. Testing each other. Making sure you were worthy of being bred by the other. If one of you had relented, Bart’s cock would have either deflated and pulled out, or your pussy muscles would have snapped shut like a steel trap and you would have ripped it off.”
“What the holy fucking hell?” Bart’s panic had returned, and it brought friends. “She would have torn my dick off if I wasn’t enough of a blood-drinking psycho for her?” Bart’s thrusts quickened, and Lisa began growling again, softly, sleepily. “I changed my mind, Mom, I don’t want to be a vampire anymore if having my dick snapped off by my sister’s cunt is on the table! Can I go back to bleeding to death in the woods?”
Marge mumbled, a mixture of irritation at her son, and sadness that he would have preferred death over her saving his life.
“It’s alright, Bart. You passed. You both passed. And the blood-rut is a one-time thing. At least, the testing part is. You might still enter into a blood-rut in the future, but it won’t be nearly as risky as your first.”
Lisa arched herself up, burying her head into Bart’s soiled pillow as her newest orgasm rippled through her body. “Ahhh ffffuck! Yes, right there, Bart, fuck that spot, fucking cum in meeee!”
Marge smiled, stood, and excused herself from the room. She made a note to text Homer to pick up a dozen or so bottles of hydrogen peroxide and some bleach. She’d have the kids clean the room later; a little responsibility would teach them to be careful about losing control in the future.
As she descended the stairs, she could swear that she actually heard nine powerful, wet jets of cum shooting into her daughter’s willing and eager womb. She definitely heard Bart groan as he filled Lisa’s belly and collapsed onto her chest with a heave.
Lisa felt the tingling shiver wash over her, terminating at her toes. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled at Bart, half-dozing on her chest.
“I think we need another bath, Bart. We’re a fucking mess.”
Bart lifted his head, his blond hair matted with Lisa’s blood, a weak smile on his lips.
“I got a better idea, Lees.” Then he raked his tongue along her belly, licking her clean, wiping his way up to her stiff nipples. Lisa cooed, her pussy flexing around his lilting shaft.
“Ooh, Bart…I like this idea…How do I taste?”
Bart wordlessly rose up, sharing a tongueload with his sister. She swallowed, and made a face.
“Oh god, Mom wasn’t kidding, vampire blood is foul. Why does vampire fiction always depict it as an addictive drug?”
Bart shrugged, and resumed licking Lisa’s chest clean. “I dunno. I try not to think about the taste, I just focus on licking your sweet little titties.”
Lisa giggled as Bart moved down her body, lapping up at her bellybutton. “Well hurry up so I can clean you, too. And we’ll still need a bath, unless you plan on licking my hair clean.”
Bart smiled, moving further down his sister’s body. She gasped as his tongue hit her cleft.
They wouldn’t get to that bath for another two hours.

Jessica Lovejoy finished lacing up her shoes, stopped by the mirror in the foyer of the Lovejoy house, and adjusted her hair clip. She sighed wistfully to herself, her stomach fluttering with butterflies.
In the kitchen, her father sat, slumped over his breakfast of dry toast. He hadn’t been sleeping well since his wife Helen’s passing, walking about his life as if he were in a trance. He had barely said two words to Jessica since the funeral, and barely even seemed to notice she was there.
Which suited her just fine right now. She didn’t relish the idea of him sequestering her to the house, afraid of losing her as he had her mother. She needed air, and space, and freedom, and…
She held that thought. It made her tingle deep inside herself. She couldn’t explain it. She only knew she felt…different. Warm. Happy. Loved.
“Bye, Dad. I’m going to a friend’s house, I’ll be back…by, like, dinner, maybe?”
Timothy Lovejoy didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, didn’t show any sign that he had heard his daughter. Or even that he was still alive. She could see his shoulders slumping as he breathed, so she figured he must be doing just fine, and threw open the door.
She took a deep breath, and set out down the sidewalk. She knew what she wanted, what she needed, and she was going to have it all today.
She needed air. She needed space. She needed freedom.
And she needed to make Lisa Simpson happy.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

He's Like The Wind