Darker Passions: Dracula Read online

  She tightened her hungry lips and pulled up and down his cock, devouring him, both the top and underside as well as working the swollen head. His legs trembled and she moved faster. Suddenly John could control himself no longer. Hot semen roared through him and exploded into her. Lucy swallowed all of it and licked him clean.

  John glanced around the room. Mina, in a rage of frustration, flew out the door.

  Arthur and Quincey both wore dreamy expressions on their faces.

  Lucy had crawled to the Professor. Van Helsing bent over her, rubbing the ribbed side of the paddle against her sore bottom, forcing moans from her lips. John saw moisture dripping from her pulsing, swollen pussy and his cock began to rise again.

  The professor finally removed the tube and warned Lucy to hold her water until she reached the toilet upon pain of another thrashing, whereupon he released her to an attendant.

  While she was gone, he confided in the men, "The plan is working, at least in part. I believe we are already seeing a new woman. By tomorrow we shall know for certain which way she will turn. But either way, Count Dracula is a threat no more. John, the keys to your cells."

  John handed the professor a ring of keys. When Lucy returned, Van Helsing had him lead them upstairs to Mr. Renfield's cell.

  There he chained Lucy spread-eagle to a rough wall under a grate to the outside where water leaked down from the soil at street level and ran over her head and shoulders and in rivulets down her breasts. She sobbed and pleaded, calling the professor, "My Master," but he could not be dissuaded from his intent.

  Renfield sat in a corner, silently watching this spectacle, entranced, munching on stray insects.

  When the naked Lucy was affixed as he desired, the professor took a small box from his pocket and opened it. He removed something and pressed it to one of Lucy's nipples. She screamed. He removed another and did the same to her other nipple. Lucy cried out, "Oh no, Master! Not this! I beg you, my true Master, do not subject me so! I cannot bear it!"

  John lifted the lantern. "Leeches?" he said. "She has already been bled by the vampire. I do not see the point."

  Van Helsing gave him a harsh stare and John's bottom twitched involuntarily. "I will instruct you on the point in greater detail in private, Dr. Steward, quite likely late into the night. For the moment it is enough to know that what Count Dracula can do, I also am capable of, in my own way."

  He turned to Renfield in the corner, whose eyes shone. "Mr. Renfield, being aware of your predilection for living creatures filled with blood, I can only press upon you the importance of waiting until the morning, when these black fellows affixed to her tits will be full of what you most desire. In the meantime, Miss Westenra requires your lips on another part of her anatomy, if you gather my meaning."

  From the look on the madman's face, John could tell that Renfield understood.

  As John guided the others from the room, Renfield was already positioned beneath the shrieking Lucy, lapping and sucking at the juices flowing from her swollen cunt.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  John spent a painful night at the hands of the Professor for his insubordination. He learned first-hand the blistering heat produced by the dreadful rubber paddle as Van Helsing laid it on his behind without hesitation.

  By morning John was reformed, stricken with remorse for his haughty manner, and pledging to follow the Professor's instructions to the letter without question.

  Stiff and sore, he arrived at the asylum just after sunrise to find Renfield merrily dining on leeches. Lucy's nipples were swollen and she looked exhausted but beautiful. He released her bonds and carried her to a coach wrapped in the long cape she'd worn the night before. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips, her tongue warm and sensual in his mouth.

  At the Westenra mansion, Verna and Mina took charge or John would have seen Lucy to bed and impaled her on the spot. As it was, he returned to the office for a day of work that he carried out mostly standing.

  Just before sunset Lucy was brought back to the basement at the asylum. Tonight, though, she came willingly. When Van Helsing and the others arrived, Lucy threw herself at the Master's feet, licking his boots and caressing his ankles.

  "Onto the examining table, Miss Westenra, and be quick about it," the professor said.

  Lucy clambered onto the long table like a puppy eager to please. Tonight she glowed, her eyes bright, her fair skin tinged with healthy pink. Her hair looked lustrous as it spread across her back to her waist, stopping just short of the bottom cheeks that had been blistered. The little welts had subsided, due, probably, to the cool wall the professor had so cleverly chained her against. The skin was red, though, with the redder circles clearly visible.

  "Spread your legs," the professor ordered, and Lucy complied.

  "I see you have moved in one of the two predicted directions, therefore my diagnosis and prognosis have been confirmed. There is, however, further treatment required to insure you do not slip back into old habits and stand in harm's way."

  Again he brought the rubber paddle to the table. Lucy watched him, a mixture of lust and fear imbedded in her features.

  John sniffed the air, now permeated with her powerful secretions and felt excited and expectant himself. Even as he became aware of this, his sore ass cheeks tingled as if the sight of the paddle produced an instinctive reaction.

  The professor slapped Lucy's cheeks with the paddle and a little yelp came out of her mouth.

  "Miss," he said sternly, "you will cease tightening the muscles of your bottom as I blister you anew else we will commence once again from the beginning. Do I make myself clear?"

  Lucy whispered, "Yes, Master Van Helsing."

  "Yes, what?" he roared, slapping her bottom hard with the rubber.

  "Yes, Master!"

  "Indeed, you have but one Master, hence there is no need to name me, or is that not so?"

  Lucy looked terrified. "I am your obedient servant," she said, but apparently that wasn't a good enough answer.

  A cool look came over the Professor, who realized that he had allowed emotion to color his judgment. John was amazed. The man had never once shown the slightest bit of feeling in all the years he had known him. His punishments had been meted out cleanly and methodically, with scientific precision. And each case was subject to careful observation throughout the process. The Professor despised emotional displays, in himself and others, particularly when working. He did not tolerate the frivolous in his students or his patients. John's bottom could attest to his own abundance of sloppy work habits which the Professor had systematically corrected over the years. In fact, even last night, as John spent the remainder of the dark hours leaning over the arm of a chair while the professor paddled the haughtiness out of him, there was no sign of emotion. It was simply a Master instructing a student in a way that would have a lasting effect. John could only wonder at the effect Lucy was having on the great man.

  "I believe we shall begin with fifty," Van Helsing was saying, "which you shall count."

  "Fifty?" Lucy's voice was shocked. Even she did not expect such severe treatment two nights in a row.

  "Fifty on each side," the Professor corrected.

  Without pause, he smacked her on each cheek and said, "Count!"

  "One!" Lucy cried. "Two! Three! Four!"

  "You will relax those muscles, Miss, and begin the count again!"

  Despair sounded in Lucy's voice as she began the count all over.

  Each broad bite of the paddle rippled up John's body as his own ass cheeks remembered clearly the sound and feel.

  Lucy got to twenty before she tightened. The professor instructed her to begin again.

  John was fascinated at how her round bottom took the paddling without tensing. Each plump cheek quivered as it reddened, but the muscles did not contract. John knew both scientifically and from direct experience that pain brings on involuntary muscle contractions. Those contractions provide the added benefit of restricting t
he pain so that it will not proceed far beyond the point of contact. Leaving herself loose, poor Lucy would feel the snap of the paddle resonate through her entire body. Suddenly John regretted that throughout the night he had tensed. He wondered what this total body pain would feel like.

  Lucy's ass cheeks danced to the professor's beat. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her arms hung over the sides of the table loosely, struggling to avoid the dreaded tension that would bring on further punishment. Her voice sounded as ragged as her bottom appeared. Welts had risen again and her ass looked twice as sore as John's felt.

  Finally she counted fifty, choking out the words.

  "You are a slow learner, Miss Westenra, but there is hope for you. You three," he said, pointing at the men, "undress."

  Mina, once again, had been left out and the outrage showed on her face. This time the Professor did not ignore her entirely.

  "Mrs. Harker, sit please, and observe."

  This did little to appease her but she sat as directed.

  "Dr. Steward," the professor ordered, "onto the floor on your back. Miss Westenra, you will mount him at once."

  John lay on the rough hardwood floor, the raw fibers scratching at his tender bottom. Lucy moved from the table as quickly as she could. She knelt over him and impaled herself on his hot cock.

  "Mr. Morris, to the front."

  Quincey took his place. He stood, legs wide apart, bracing himself, and Lucy took his member full into her mouth.

  "And Mr. Holmwood, to the rear. It is up to you to counter the effects of Count Dracula."

  Arthur knelt behind Lucy and plunged his long cock into her back door.

  "Mrs. Harker, if you will." Van Helsing handed two sticks to Mina. She looked at them dumbly for a moment but then began to tap them together in a regular rhythm.

  The four on the floor moved in time with the beating sticks.

  As Lucy came down onto John, Arthur rose up into her. As she lifted up, Quincey thrust his cock into her mouth. The look on her face struck John as blissful. She quickly moved into another realm. Being filled on all counts brought out the best in her.

  John felt the muscles of her cunt tighten around him as Mina picked up the pace. The fleshy folds gathered him in and rippled over him. The massage worked it's magic. His cock swelled and his balls felt on fire. His ass rose and fell on the rough boards. She bounced against his crotch and at that moment Arthur's nuts crashed against his own. Quincey, overhead, emitted a strong manly scent, mingled with the delicious sweet odors from Lucy. John reached up and rubbed her swollen nipples and she squirmed, her insides becoming slicker and gripping him tighter.

  Mina beat the sticks at a tense pace. John felt their rhythms blending and they moved as one. The fire in his balls caught, soaring up his shaft. He thrust up into Lucy and at the same moment Arthur thrust from behind and Quincey in front. Lucy's body spasmed as if she were having a seizure. Sounds burst from each of the men in unison as the links melded. It was as if a bolt of lightning shot through the four of them.

  They were drenched in sweat, panting, sticky.

  "Enough!" Van Helsing said, smacking the paddle smartly against Quincey's bottom until he backed off, then doing the same with Arthur, who took longer to move and hence received more.

  Lucy disengaged herself, leaving John alone on the floor. He felt limp, spent. "Up Dr. Steward, or I shall be forced to rouse you."

  John stood quickly, but not fast enough to avoid a crack of the paddle against his prickling behind.

  "Escort Mrs. Harker home," the professor instructed. "Count Dracula is no longer a threat!"

  The men dressed quickly. Quincey and Arthur left the room in a burst of gaiety. Mina, however, sat rigid in her seat, still clutching the sticks. When John touched her arm, she jerked away and gave him a violent look. She stood and hurried out the door.

  "Professor, is there anything further you need?" John asked.

  Van Helsing seated himself on the chair Mina abandoned. Lucy crawled between his legs and unbuttoning his fly. John's mouth dropped open. He saw Van Helsing's large penis liberated—he had never seen it before and the length and width of the uncircumcised wand were remarkable.

  Lucy licked the flesh erect and played with his enormous balls while John stood as if struck dumb. Van Helsing permitting this! An indulgence of the flesh! John could hardly believe his eyes.

  "You may go, Doctor Steward," the professor said, waving the paddle he held towards the door. "As you see, I am victorious."

  Part 5 - Lucy

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I fled that cursed asylum, not waiting for Dr. Steward or anyone else to escort me, and demanded of the locksman a coach to return me at once to the Westenra mansion. My body and brain were on fire. I had seen things no virtuous woman should witness.

  Never had I been so insulted because of my gender. Van Helsing, that onerous sadist, treated me as though I were less than competent, certainly neither worthy of knowledge nor experience.

  At the manor house I declined the tea Verna offered me and instead retired to my room with a glass of sherry but even after drinking it felt too agitated to sleep. On impulse, I raced for the stables, much to Hodge's consternation, and made him saddle the mare, Rosebud, for a midnight ride. And ride her I did. Unabashedly I straddled her firm back like a man, racing across the fields, headed for the Mulgrave Woods.

  As we entered the woods, I slowed her to a gallop and soon to a trot, for she was breathing heavily, and slick with sweat from the exertion. Instinctively she followed the paths to which she was accustomed.

  The night was lovely and quiet but my nerves were on edge.

  Every snapping twig, each hoot of an owl caused my body to jump. Overhead the moon glowed its ghostly white and looked full enough to burst. I felt wetness break between my legs, something beyond the constant arousal that had hounded me recently, and I knew my monthly cycle had begun.

  We reached a clearing and Rosebud stopped abruptly. I lashed her with the reigns and dug in my heels but she refused to continue. "All right," I told her, "if you're determined to be stubborn, I suppose we can rest here."

  I dismounted and tied her to a branch.

  My body felt on fire. I had witnessed such depravities and yet they were not really depravities, for if they had been only that, why should I long so to participate and feel so cast aside? The air was humid and the sky clear. I looked up at the countless stars and wondered why fate had brought me to Whitby to witness acts that had ripped away my virginal view of life. I now longed for the passion I saw others wallowing in. And yet would my cravings ever be sated? A cry of despair escaped my lips as I realized that I might live my entire life unfulfilled.

  Suddenly Rosebud neighed, as if in sympathy. "You know, there are times I feel I cannot bear this," I told her.

  "Yes, I know that," a voice answered. I jumped around in alarm.

  A tall man stood at the edge of the wood wearing a long cape. My heart began to beat wildly for I suddenly realized I was alone in the thicket with a stranger.

  "But you know me, Mrs. Harker," he said, stepping into the clearing. By the light of the pale moon I saw that it was Count Dracula. This knowledge did little to alleviate my fear. In fact, he had become the devil personified in my mind and I felt unprotected before him.

  "Good evening to you, sir," I said, turning towards Rosebud, eager to make my escape.

  "She will not let you mount her," he informed me.

  I did not heed his warning but struggled to slip my foot into the stirrup. The horse had become disturbed. She was skittish and sidled away from me and when I continued my attempt to mount her, she reared up on her back legs.

  "Stop it!" I demanded, frightened, but the horse would not obey. "What have you done to her?" I demanded of the Count, turning.

  I jolted. He stood inches from me, his cruelly handsome face towering above mine. A vague scent filled the air, an undercurrent of earth and all things sensual.

  "Merely control
led her will, as I shall control yours."

  His dark eyes held me. I could not speak and felt my limbs were too heavy to move. He reached out a hand and unbuttoned my blouse slowly. The fabric he pulled down, exposing my shoulders and breasts cupped by my corset to the warm night air caressing my skin. "You must not do this," I managed to tell him. "I am a married woman. Are you not a gentleman?"

  "I am a warrior," he said, "and I take what I want. And I want you, Mina."

  His words sent a thrill through me. I shivered and felt my skin turn to gooseflesh.

  He pulled the pins and coil from my hair until it fell loose about my shoulders. Although I was half naked before him, I did not feel embarrassed. A glance down told me that what I felt was so: my nipples had hardened, anticipating his touch. And touch them he did.

  His fingers worked each until they were even firmer, forcing me to arch my back and shamelessly thrust my breasts out as if eager for more. He gripped me about the waist and lifted me as though I weighed nothing. His lips clamped onto one nipple. My head fell back and my lips parted. He licked and sucked my tender flesh, bringing me to heights of pleasure I had not dreamed possible. Pleasure that threatened to overwhelm me. And then he tasted my other breast. Sensation washed over me. I could only lie in his arms moaning, quivering, aware of his enormous manhood pressing against me, feeling red moisture running down my inner thighs which, for some reason, did not give me pause.

  I know not how long he toyed with my nipples, only that the sensations resonated physical joy throughout my body until I felt I must die from delight.

  Before I was aware of it, he was undoing my skirts and corset. "Please," I said, suddenly embarrassed as I knew what he would find. No man had ever seen my menses. I felt I could not bear the humiliation. I struggled in his strong arms but was no match for his phenomenal strength. Soon he pulled my bloomers down and I was bare before him.