Darker Passions: Dracula Read online

  She did not hear him enter, but felt his presence, as she always did. The air in the room became dense, as if the moisture level had increased. Suddenly she had a clear view of him upside down. A tall, powerful man, with long black hair and moustache, and a determined chin. Even from this angle she could see his rigid posture, the tension in his limbs. During his lifetime he had been a famous warlord, hero to some, monster to others, invincible in battle, indomitable in spirit then, and now. After all this time of being with him, and despite his callous neglect, she was surprised to find her nipples firming; she still found him irresistibly attractive.

  The wall behind him held a small rectangular window with crimson-tinted glass that could not hide the pitch black sky. He saw her glance at the window. "The sun will not rise for many hours. You will enjoy a long ride on your favorite beast."

  "Master, please forgive—"

  "Magda, you disappoint me." He stepped towards her. "You have learned nothing from the carefully applied if painful lessons of the past."

  "Far in the past," she said bitterly, and immediately wished she'd bitten her tongue.

  "Yes, perhaps too far. I see now that sparing the rod does in fact spoil the child of the night. But that will soon be remedied."

  He moved close and her angle of vision cut off his head, shoulders and chest to the waist. She could only see him from the hips down. He wore tall polished boots and suede riding breeches, both black; there was never a single speck of color about him. She noticed the massive bulge straining against the suede pants and felt an ache of longing cut through her. Damn him for ignoring her for so long! She would not forgive him. "I had forgotten your charms," he said. A cool hand rode up one cheek, across and down the other, across the bottom and up again. This soft, circular motion lulled her.

  "Magda, do you remember when I first came for you?"

  She hadn't thought of that night for a long time.

  Her father was away in Buda-Pest, her mother visiting a cousin across the village.

  Magda was eighteen years old and still a virgin, with smooth creamy skin and flaming hair. Because she refused to keep her thoughts to herself, she was not popular, although many of the young men would have overlooked this trait. But Magda found them all wanting. They were coarse creatures who only pulled at her in a vulgar manner. She rebuffed them all. Her parents, intimidated by her strong will, did not know what to do with her, and her mother worried she would never marry.

  One night, the moon brimming, just at the first frost, Magda had a dream, or so she thought. The sky blackened, as if a thousand bats blocked the light of the moon and stars. The air grew colder and she shivered, although her body began to feel hot in places. She opened her eyes. A man stood outside the window, staring at her. His eyes were red coals, his features dark and sinister. She opened her mouth to scream but then, for some unknown reason, closed it.

  Before she could think what to do, he was in her room, beside her bed, pulling the blankets down. She wore a plain cotton nightdress, white, that covered her entire body. He rolled the dress up from her ankles slowly, as if peeling back the rind of a ripe fruit. His hands were icy and she shivered. She really should run out and find her mother...

  The thin cotton gathered around her neck, she looked down at her nakedness, at her firm nipples, her flat stomach, the mound of red hair, embarrassed before this stranger. Obviously he was a nobleman, wealthy from the rich clothing he wore. His eyes roved up and down her well-formed body and she could almost feel heat prickling her skin. Those eyes were not red now, but black and mysterious. Eyes that revealed nothing he did not wish to reveal. A face handsome, in a cruel way, especially the mouth. The idea that he would not be easily rebuffed by her proved thrilling.

  He reached out a hand. "Come!"

  Reluctantly she took his hand and sat up, then stood.

  No sooner had she stood than he sat. He captured both her wrists in one of his hands and pulled her quickly across his lap and up one leg so that she straddled his left thigh awkwardly. She gasped, startled, her feet unable to find purchase on the floor without raising her bottom indiscreetly into the air.

  "What do you think you're doing, sir?" she demanded, struggling for a balance she could not achieve.

  He laughed, a rich sound, harsh around the edges, that rippled through her. "You are impertinent," he told her, "and must be tamed." Her gown had fallen back to her ankles when she stood. This time he yanked the fabric up roughly to her waist, exposing her bare bottom.

  He rubbed her ass cheeks, up one side, across the top, down the other side and along the bottom, then around again and again, his touch comforting and sensual.

  "My mother will be home soon." She sounded half hearted. "You will leave now, before she arrives, and I shall forget the entire episode, otherwise mother will report you to the authorities." This was not turning out the way a dream should. His large hand felt soft and warm against her bottom. She grew relaxed, although the skin began to tingle.

  He laughed again. "And who might these authorities be?"

  "Vlad Dracula himself, the vivode of Transylvania. He who rules these mountains justly, but with a firm hand, that's who!"

  "And if I told you I am the vivode?"

  "I would call you a liar."

  "Your tongue knows no bounds, and neither shall your punishments." The humor had left his voice completely. She became frightened.

  Still holding her wrists tightly in one hand, he removed his lamb's wool hat and thrust it before her face. The emblem on the front contained a dragon. It suddenly struck her where she had seen that crest before. "Oh my lord!" she stammered. "You are Dracula, son of the dragon. Vivode of the Carpathians. Forgive me, sire, I did not know."

  "And now you do and you will know this also: you belong to me, body, mind and soul, and I intend to enjoy my property."

  His hand returned to her buttocks. He slid a finger down the crack in her behind. She felt her face color with embarrassment as he paused at her bottom hole, then moved lower allowing a moment of false relief. Warmth flooded her stomach.

  Three of his fingers probed her womanly opening, an area not touched by anyone before, including herself. Her back arched as the fingers entered her. It did not hurt, except when he pushed too far in, but provided a pleasant tickling feeling new to her. His fingers inside her caused her face and chest to flush and made her breath quicken, and she did not know why.

  When he removed his fingers, she felt as though something that belonged to her had been taken away, but not for long. Soon one finger returned to the other hole and she tensed. Without delay he entered her anus and explored it as well. She squirmed under his examination, slipping and sliding on his leg, embarrassment giving way to humiliation. Vivode or not, he had no right to invade her like this, and she was about to tell him so.

  He removed his finger and again she felt that sensation of emptiness. "You are indeed fresh, fortunately for you, else I would think my time wasted, although time has altered for me."

  She had no idea what he meant.

  "Answer me truthfully, girl. Your skin is soft and unmarked. Do your parents not liberally employ the whip and paddle to control your rebellious nature?"

  She was shocked. "My lord, my parents are kind. They believe in reason over brutality. I have never been physically punished in my life." In fact, her parents, unlike the other parents in the village, refused to raise a hand to their child. It was another reason why the family was looked on with suspicion.

  "Intriguing." His voice grew cold and hard, freezing her to the bone. "But that will no longer be so as the moon streaks the sky this night."

  It occurred to her then that she had encountered a formidable wall which would not permit her to pass. There would be no escape yet she did not understand how to submit to her fate.

  He balled the end of her nightdress and stuffed it into her mouth so that even if she did cry out, no one would hear her. Rescue now seemed impossible. She was at his mercy and hoped he would s
how some to one as innocent as she knew herself to be.

  His hand came down hard on her bottom, stinging her skin, and she jolted. A muffled sound escaped her lips. The sensation was unfamiliar but not unpleasant. For a moment she felt a hot hand-print on her backside, then warmth radiate out from it. She could still not gain a footing because he held her awkwardly and her struggle only raised her bottom into the air, as though it begged to be spanked. The next smack came quickly, followed by a third and a forth. Soon the spanks rained down on her pristine cheeks.

  She buckled and rode his leg, her backside tense, struggling to avoid the hard spanks, but there was nowhere to go. His hand was like rock. It seemed to know precisely where to strike to cause her the most pain. And strike it did. Unpredictably. Continuously. She pleaded with him to stop, but her mouth was full of fabric and he could not or would not understand her. Because external struggle proved futile, she determined to resist him internally.

  He spanked each cheek separately, aggressively, the undersides hardest, his palm knocking against her slit. This cannot go on! she thought. The stinging had long ago turned uncomfortable and was becoming unbearable. She must wake from this dream any second! And if it was not a dream, her mother would arrive home soon and put a stop to this. And desperately she thought: surely he will tire!

  But she did not wake, her mother did not return, and he did not tire but spanked her more energetically. Her bottom grew hotter, the stinging more severe, forcing tears to her eyes and muffled cries from her throat. She could not stand this heat and the sharp pain that brought it. He spanked and spanked and she sobbed and sobbed, her determination not to succumb crumbling rapidly. And when suddenly the resistance inside her gave way. The moment she admitted to herself that he had mastered her, he stopped.

  Her ass pulsed with torturous heat. Oh, if only he would throw cool water on her to dim the sparks!

  He lay her on the bed on her back. The rough wool blankets scratched her raw skin and she started to sit up, by his weight pressed her down.

  His body was hard and heavy on her young frame. She felt the air would be crushed from her lungs any second and she would suffocate. His lips captured her left nipple and sucked and pulled it up. He tortured the nub until it ached and swelled and she moaned, instinctively grinding her well-spanked bottom into the prickly blanket.

  While he held her captured wrists above her head, his knees pried her legs apart. He pulled the cloth from her mouth and his wide lips covered hers. He tasted coppery and male as his tongue plundered into her mouth, filling it with a new sensation. She could not believe that she was submitting to this, and yet she worried now that she would wake, or her mother would return, or that he would stop what he was doing to her.

  He reached between them and she felt something emerge from his pants. Fleshy. Large. The end of it was not sharp but round and firm. He used his hand to poke this against her gaping slit.

  "Sire, you must not!" she breathed, terrified.

  He stopped, obviously taken aback by her words. "If I have not tanned you well enough, you have only to ask for more."

  "Oh my lord, you have set my bottom on fire. I meant that I am a virgin, as you know. I will be dishonored."

  "And is it a dishonor for the vivode to breach your hymen?"

  "Yes, my liege, I mean no, I only mean, I may never marry—"

  "Silence! Or tonight you will feel a worse stinging than you do!"

  He positioned his rod of flesh at her opening. Before a heart beat had elapsed, he tore into her, his hard cock ripping down the wall of her childhood.

  Magda screamed. The pain from her ass mingled with the pain of her ruptured maidenhead until she ignited, her body blazing under him as he pounded into her, stoking the flames, leaving her no defense against being consumed by them. He punctured her throat when she was least aware, although she felt a sharp pricking that she only identified the next day.

  In the morning she stood before her mirror. Her green eyes had never sparkled so, her cheeks had never been so flushed. She examined her body, the full breasts, slim waist and rounded hips. The body of a woman. Her bottom glowed a brilliant red and seeing it made juices she had not realized were inside her flow and her cunt shudder.

  She hid the wounds on her neck with a shawl. Over the next few days, whenever she was forced to sit down she was reminded of her night of passion with her demon lover. She feared she would never see him again, never be bent anew to his strong will. She clung to the thrilling words he uttered as he had departed just before sunrise: "We have only just begun, my beautiful Magda, a gentle start to an eternity of painful pleasures that await you. Eternity consists of endless night, and fortunately I am a worldly man, skilled at adapting and applying techniques from a variety of cultures. My imagination has no limits, as will become apparent. You are a raw canvas onto which I shall paint erotic masterpieces for a thousand years."

  A finger rammed into Magda's asshole. Startled, she cried out in shock and pain.

  "You were always sensitive," he said, thrusting in and out energetically, "but, as I recall, eager for your lickings.

  "You have disobeyed me, Magda. And you will be punished. What is your preference?"

  It was an old game. A game of foreplay. He encouraged her to believe she had some control over her fate. Pinioning her to the horse of pain was his way of assuring her she did not. The idea of again being controlled completely sparked a memory too exquisite to bear; she realized exactly what she had been lacking. A shiver of desire rippled through her for the first time in a long time and involuntarily her rectum contracted around his finger.

  "You have become a cold woman. Your flesh wants warming. A warmth that only I can administer effectively." He slid his finger from her anus and she felt empty.

  "I shall whip you, Magda, more thoroughly than you have ever been whipped. You need discipline. You will receive a taste of it tonight and plenty more in the nights to come. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sire," she said, her voice quaking.

  "What is your preference?" he asked again.

  She dreaded each of the cruel instruments. The walls were crammed with leather and wood paddles, thick and thin straps, single strand whips and whips with many knotted strands, metal rods and clamps, and objects from the Far East, made from the rubber tree. Each, she knew from experiences that were rapidly returning to memory, created a unique pain. Each could be used convincingly and creatively by a master disciplinarian. Vlad was such a master. But she had waited too long to answer.

  "Is your silence a cry for help or stubbornness? Either way, your need for chastisement is greater than I had suspected. Perhaps something intimate will speak to you most forcefully."

  He stepped back so that she could see him from the chest down. She watched him unbuckle the thick ebony belt he wore and slip it out through the loops on his pants. The belt was made from the tough skin of an African animal and stained black. Short coarse hairs still lay imbedded in the leather here and there, like stubble from a beard. The belt was so stiff it could not be bent in half lengthwise, and would barely double.

  He waited. "Have you forgotten the words, Magda?"

  He paused, then sighed, his voice resigned. "You are willful and full of resentment. I see now that I have failed you. Perhaps I have been preoccupied, but as of tonight all that is changed. You will repeat: Master, punish me severely."

  It was difficult. Very difficult. Her lips could barely form the words. "Master, punish me severely."

  "How shall I punish you, Magda?"

  "Well."

  "And for how long?"

  "As long as you see need to, my lord."

  "And how hard?"

  "Until my pride is broken."

  Leather smacked her ass. Her body tried to jump to safety, but the restraints kept her from moving. He strapped her again. And again. Heat seared tender flesh no longer accustomed to such kisses. Because she was so spread, the leather licked her gaping asshole, and the sensitive fleshy f
olds of her cunt opening. She howled in pain.

  Crack! Crack! The rigid strap burned her, adding fuel to the growing fire. He brought the heavy leather down harder than she remembered from previous strappings, but then those had been so long ago it was as if this was her first time.

  Tears gushed from her eyes and cries from her lips as the leather cracked mercilessly.

  "Do you wish more, Magda?"

  To answer no would doom her. "As you see fit, Master," she wailed.

  "I do see fit."

  The strap whipped across the top of her ass cheeks. He had been an excellent marksman in life and eternity had only refined his aim. He lay on the leather, snapping at the top of her ass cheeks until she thought the skin would split. She screamed for mercy but, as always, her cries did not deter him. And just when she knew she could take no more, he shifted to her undercheeks, where the strap cooked her cunt opening as well and caused the flesh of her ass to boil.

  Magda screamed out her agony as he flayed her; only her upper body was able to writhe beneath the stinging blows that seemed endless. Her red hair whipped about her face and her full breasts bounced wildly, the nipples achingly hard.

  He moved to the side of the left cheek, beating there until she was screaming anew. Then he chastised the side of the right cheek, letting the stubbly belt mark his displeasure into her flesh. When he returned his attention to the middle of her ass, he whipped first from one side, then from the other, making sure that neither cheek escaped for long and that her bottom hole was well attended to. Finally he used just the end of the belt to skillfully snap down the length of her crack, lingering over her bottom hole until she shrieked, and then again at the soft folds that led inside her feminine hole. Her screams echoed around the circular walls. Memory assured her that nothing she could say or do would make him stop. She was completely at the mercy of a merciless being. The moment she accepted that truth, the leather stilled.

  Sheets of tears blinded her. She could hardly see him. Her ass blazed as if flames shot from the fiery flesh. Her ears rang from her own screams and her throat was raw, but she knew he was far from finished with her.