Darker Passions: Dracula Read online

  I hesitated but a moment, then placed my eye to the hole.

  Within I saw Dr. Steward stark naked, his hairy bottom facing me so that I viewed his genitalia dangling below. His hands were bound behind his back and he was kneeling at Lucy's feet, licking the soles of her laced hobnailed boots. Lucy lounged in a Queen Anne chair wearing only the boots, a black leather corset and black wool stockings, held in place by red garters. On her lap rested a black wood paddle, long and rectangular in shape with a short handle, much like a cricket bat.

  I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I noticed my breath had quickened, and that I was pressed close to the wall.

  Suddenly Lucy kicked out sharply, sending the doctor sprawling onto his back. I gasped when I saw his erect member.

  Lucy looked at the wall as though she saw me and smiled, and I jumped back. But it was not possible that she could see me—the hole was too small. I told myself I should go directly to bed else I would be privy to some vice I would be better off not knowing about. And yet within seconds I was again peering through the peephole.

  Lucy was now out of the chair and the good doctor in it, not sitting properly, but kneeling on the edge in an upright position. His bound hands were resting at the small of his back and I could clearly see his white bottom cheeks with the reddish blond hairs. Lucy stood to one side of him, the menacing paddle clutched in her right hand.

  "You must be taught civility, doctor. The next time you visit, if I deign to grant you a next visit, you will wait patiently until I am ready to begin our session. I am the Mistress here, you my slave. Do I make myself clear?"

  Dr. Steward mumbled something I could not hear and apparently Lucy could not either.

  She hauled off and whacked him a good one with the paddle across his rear end. His body jerked and he nearly lost balance. The cricket bat, being so wide and long, reddened the whole of his bottom.

  "Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, Mistress Lucy!" This time he virtually shouted.

  "Good," she said. "Assume the position."

  Doctor Steward bent forward so that his head touched the back of the chair. He lowered it until his head rested where the chair and seat connect. This forced his derriere high into the air and, to keep his balance, he spread his knees wide apart. Again, those testicles hung down between his legs and I felt secretly thrilled at seeing them thus exposed.

  "When I am finished with you, doctor, you will be interviewing your patient Mr. Renfield from a standing position. If you think I will spare you humiliation and pain, you are quite mistaken. You deserve all the punishment I will inflict on you and more. You have been arrogant, rude and impatient and I intend to paddle your behind until those traits are no longer in evidence."

  "If it pleases you, mistress," he said quite loudly, "spare me the largest paddle tonight, as I have work to do at the sanatorium which requires sitting."

  Lucy was obviously furious. "Sparing you anything does not please me, Doctor. For that you shall have an extra half hour."

  She swung her arm far back. The paddle rushed forward and landed on his behind hard—even from where I stood, the whap sounded as though it had done damage to the skin. Dr. Steward cried out, "Mercy!"

  Lucy's reply was to bring the paddle across his bottom again and again. Each time she swung back I was given a clear view of that poor derriere. It quivered as it brightened, the color of the skin surpassing the red hairs in hue and going on to a far darker shade that I would call crimson.

  As Lucy paddled him, my head swam. I could hardly breathe. My entire body quivered with the tension I felt. My palms were sweaty as I watched, and moisture slid down between my breasts.

  Lucy worked the paddle as if she were a lifelong cricket player. After a time she switched sides so that she might evenly tan him, his shade having gone from crimson to scarlet. I heard him groaning, begging for mercy, but Lucy only increased her efforts. Wherever she got the strength was beyond me.

  Eventually I felt so weak I could not stand. One last, longing look at those maroon cheeks nearly made me faint. I staggered to my bed and fell upon it. Outside the wind howled, as if the coming storm was about to break.

  My pulse was dangerously fast, my body tingled. I could do nothing but lie there, listening to the exquisite sound of paddle cracking against flesh over and over and over, interspersed with the pathetic cries of the now contrite Dr. Steward.

  Finally there was silence, except for the thunder, yet it did not help me. My body burned, and I longed for a cool breeze to temper my fever. I did not know what to do for myself.

  Suddenly my door opened and Lucy appeared looking fresh as if it were morning, carrying a glass of sherry. She wore a white cotton nightgown decorated with white ribbons and her feet were bare. Her long golden hair flowed prettily over her shoulders.

  "Oh, Mina," she said, jumping into bed with me, "I'm so glad you met John. You do like him, don't you? He's proposed to me, you know. Tonight for the third time. He's desperate to marry me. What do you think? Should I take the plunge?"

  All this in her breathless girlish way while I could only lie there pulsing.

  "You're still dressed!" she cried, as if I were indecent. Immediately she pulled my blouse down off my shoulders and lifted my skirts up my steaming body.

  I allowed her to do it, unable to stop her, not really wanting to. Soon she had me stripped nearly naked before her. She sat back against the lacquered headboard and gathered me into her arms.

  "Mina, you're freezing," she said, and giggled.

  She ran her hand down my hot left breast to the burning nipple, which was plump as was the circle of paler flesh surrounding it.

  "This is outrageous," I managed to mutter.

  "Is it?" She circled my nipple with her finger tip and my body trembled.

  "Lucy, I am a married woman. We must not."

  "You worry so, Mina, but you always have," she reminded me. She took the nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pinched hard.

  I cried out, arching my back as a hot charge passed through me, wanting her to stop, wanting her to do it again, feeling helpless to do anything but receive what she decided to give me."Remember the time at Miss Whippit's when we snuck down to the pantry in the middle of the night to peep through cook's keyhole?" she said.

  "Oh yes!" I gasped. "She was in the bed with the gardener's son...but I don't remember what they were doing."

  "You don't remember because that's all you saw before I shoved you aside so I could get my turn. But I saw them. He was mounting her from behind, like a dog, and..."

  She bent her head and sucked my swollen nipple into her wet mouth. The sensation proved so delightful I could hardly bear it. My head fell back and I panted like an animal, feeling completely weak. "Oh, Lucy, you must stop..."

  As she lifted her lips, she pulled the nipple up with her teeth, driving me insane.

  "I saw him cook the cook's cherry pie," she whispered in my ear.

  We both laughed. Another of our 'episodes' as we'd called them, except, as usual, I hid in the shadows while Lucy had all the fun.

  She slung a leg over mine, trapping them, and moved her hand to my other breast, treating that nipple in the same rough manner. I writhed and groaned under her ministrations.

  "Mina, remember how afraid you were that cook would hear us and tell the headmistress? You were always afraid of catching a licking from Miss Whippit."

  Indeed, I had been terrified. Miss Whippet was renowned for her stern chastisements and I'd seen the effects of a session with her on the flesh of more than one student. "Poor Lucy, you spared my hide and took the blame alone when she found out; it was your bottom that paid the price."

  Her hand alternated from nipple to nipple, pulling, twisting, pinching. I could hardly concentrate on what she was saying. My legs under hers struggled to spread of their own volition. My breasts thrust towards her dexterous fingers, begging for more. I felt like a hussy.

  "Saved you? Nonsense. Besides, she d
idn't find out, I confessed. I just didn't want to share, that's all."

  "Lucy, I swear, half the time I don't know what you're talking about. Share what?"

  "Miss Whippit's paddle, of course."

  I sat up abruptly, to the extent I could. "You aren't saying you enjoyed being spanked?"

  She grinned at me.

  "You can't be serious!"

  "But I am, Mina. Do you think I'm dim? I knew how to obtain a licking and I knew how to avoid one. I just didn't want to avoid them."

  This gave me pause. Lucy had been punished by Miss Whippit more than any other girl over our entire four years at the exclusive finishing school. The idea that she had elicited it... But then, I'd had a mild taste myself this very day of the pleasures of stinging flesh. Could it be that Lucy knew something I didn't? For once, I decided to be cagey. "But, then, you wanted the paddle?"

  "The paddle, the birch, the palm of her hand. Even her riding crop on occasion. I wanted it all and got it all. Those were the most enriching years of my youth."

  "But what did you get out of the pain?" I blurted. She pulled me back against her and this time each of her hands took a nipple and teased and played and punished them to her heart's content, and to mine.

  "Pleasure. Intoxicating pleasure."

  I felt as if my world was upside down. All these years I'd felt sorry for Lucy, being punished so, and yet now she was telling me that she craved it. And if I had not myself today experienced what I had, I wouldn't have believed her. But I did.

  "Would you like to hear about the first time? It's a story I've told no one." Her eyes twinkled with that mischievous look.

  "Oh yes. Tell me," I said breathlessly.

  "Well, since you've been such a good girl today, I believe I will." She pulled me close and kissed me full on the lips, her tongue sliding into my mouth. I met her tongue eagerly with my own. She shifted me so she could easily slip a hand down inside my bloomers from behind. She passed the crack in my bottom and my bottom hole until she was between my leg. Shamelessly, I let her do it.

  Her fingers rested at my opening, pressing against it only slightly. At the same time her lips found one of my nipples again; she nibbled on it with her teeth until I bucked and jumped and cried out, my exertions forcing her fingers slightly inside me.

  Finally she licked my nipple and I shuddered. Then she began telling me the story.

  "The evening after we arrived at the school, just as dinner had finished, Miss Whippit sent for me.

  "You never knew this, Mina, but behind her office was a small room, no bigger than our woodshed. In it was a table long enough to lie on, three straight-backed chairs, a bed and a small dresser. The moment I entered, she locked the door, pocketed the key and ordered me to sit, although she remained standing.

  "'Miss Westenra,' she said in her sharp voice, 'you are eighteen years old and have been deprived of parental charge for the past two years.'

  "'Oh, no, Miss Whippit,' I said immediately, 'I have two servants who have been with me all my life. They take care of me since the death of my parents.'

  "'Indeed, Miss Westenra, taking care of you and being in charge of you are hardly the same thing. And this is not what they have told me.'

  "She handed me a letter written by Verna in her poorly educated scrawl. The gist of it was that although they had tried their best, I had always been spoiled and had now become incorrigible. It was, Verna said, not their place to discipline me. She went on to talk about how my parent's had wanted me to attend Miss Whippet's Finishing School and that Verna prayed that Miss Whippet would not be too lenient with me or she feared what would become of the young mistress of the manor. Needless to say, I was appalled.

  "'Miss Whippet, this woman does not know what she's talking about. And anyway, I am eighteen and an adult. In charge of my own life.'

  "'You are in error, Miss Westenra. I am in charge of your life for the entire time you are enrolled at my school which, if you will recall from the provision in your parents' Will, is for the term of four years.'

  "I was angry at this. Who was this woman to think she had authority over me? Regardless of my parents' wishes, I was free to come and go as I pleased and I told her this without hesitation.

  "She sat in an armless chair opposite me and just stared at me for the longest time. Oh Mina, you remember how chilling her grey eyes could be? As though her mind was made up and nothing would sway her? It wasn't long before I began to feel uncomfortable. Such a penetrating look. I sensed she could read my mind and all the nasty little things I was thinking about her. "As you know, dear Mina, patience is a virtue you were blessed with, but the same cannot be said of me. Soon I was on my feet, demanding, 'Unlock the door at once!'

  "But Miss Whippet only continued to sit there, watching me, studying me, I now believe.

  "Over the next hour or so I threw fit after fit. I threatened her. I pleaded. I apologized and promised her anything, if only she would let me out. At one point I picked up one of her precious antique Chippendale chairs and bashed it against the door, nicking the back and shattering one leg, all to no avail. If she hadn't been so much larger than me, I would have attacked her physically—the thought crossed my mind. Finally, exhausted, I fell into the remaining free chair and waited. Surely she would release me by morning when classes resumed.

  "We sat another long while in silence, her staring, me fidgeting. Just when I'd decided that she was quite mad, she said, 'Miss Westenra, if you wish to leave this room, you will do as I say.'

  "Of course, by that point, I was willing to do anything, and told her so.

  "'Go to the dresser and open the top drawer.'

  "I did.

  "'Bring me the hairbrush.'

  "Inside was an ordinary boar's-hair brush, only rather large, with a flat smooth back made of oiled mahogany. I carried the brush to her and she took it from my hands, examining it with great affection in her eyes.

  "'This brush belonged to the mistress of the school I attended as a girl, when I was about your age.'

  "'It must be very old,' I said, not really caring, more trying to humor her.

  "'Very old and very reliable.'

  "'I suppose it's a good brush,' I said, growing more bored by the minute. 'I imagine it does an adequate job on the hair.'

  "'It does an adequate job on more than hair, Miss Westenra.'

  "With that she looked up at me and I did not like the look in her eyes. It was wild and dangerous. And yet compelling. Something unrestrained spoke to me and I was mesmerized.

  "'Clasp your hands behind your back,' she ordered, and for some reason I did as I was told.

  "In a second she reached behind me, grabbed my wrists and yanked me across her lap. I was too stunned to realize what was happening and in those moments of my confusion she lifted my skirts and stripped my bloomers to my knees, still holding my wrists captive.

  "I lay helpless, my bare bottom completely exposed before her. I kicked and screamed, trying to bite the woman and scratch her hands, demanding to know, 'How dare you! I shall have your school closed down on the morrow! Release me at once!'

  "To Miss Whippet's credit, she did not release me. 'You want discipline and you want it badly,' she remarked. 'And you shall receive it. This, Miss Westenra, is the way things will be. I shall paddle your virginal ass with my trusty hairbrush from now until sunrise, at which time I will send you to your bed to sleep for one hour, although by then I should think sleep will be farthest from your thoughts.'

  "It could not have been later than midnight. A quick tally resulted in the mind-boggling awareness that I was about to receive a five hour spanking!

  "'In the morning,' she continued, 'you will attend classes and you will behave yourself. My instructors have been informed of your inclination towards disobedience and the necessity for swift correction. They have been ordered to overlook nothing. At the slightest transgression or infraction of the rules, you will to be brought to me immediately, whereupon you will be put across my knee
as you are now. I intend to mete out punishment as often and as severely as you have need of until you clearly understand who is in charge of whom.'

  "Of course, her words sent terror careening through me.

  I had never been spanked and the thought that it should happen to me now, at the age of adulthood, and when I had finally become independent, well, I could not bear that easily. But at the same time another feeling coursed through my body making me quiver in anticipation. The idea of being slung bare-assed across this woman's warm lap, of being completely at her mercy, the thought of her hairbrush imposing limits—and for five hours!—well, I was excited.

  "'One other thing, Miss Westenra. Regardless of how perfect your behavior is in the days to come, I will see you every evening after supper, here, in my private office, where we will continue these important if hard lessons for the next three days.'

  "'Three days!' I yelled.

  "'A week, then.'

  "I was stunned into silence and would have stayed silent had not the back of the hairbrush forced a cry from my lips. The brush smacked one cheek, then the other. Back and forth, the wood stung my behind harder each blow. I had never felt anything like it. Pain rippled out from what felt like the one tiny spot she spanked on each cheek. My bottom warmed very quickly.

  "Soon my rear end jumped at each crack as the wood found its mark, but I suspect my increasingly sore bottom was not so much seeking escape as rising to meet the occasion. For you see, my womanly nub knocked pleasantly against the intimacy of her lap with each fall and to fall, I was required to rise. But then, the spanking itself titillated.

  "Miss Whippet was nothing if not thorough. She spanked all sides of my bottom, paying particular attention to the underside where I would be forced to sit, as well as the middle. To my amazement and agony, she kept finding new areas that had not yet tasted the hardwood. She paddled me well, never tiring, a natural disciplinarian. I must have received a hundred on each cheek before she even paused, and then it was not to rest but only to inform me, 'From your response, Miss Westenra, I see a fortnight of paddling would suit you better.' And then she was off again, spanking me powerfully and energetically, as if she derived energy from her efforts.