0 comments/ 49325 views/ 16 favorites The True Ordeal of Jonathan Harker By: Bacomicfan The first sense to return for Jonathan Harker was his sense of smell, and he almost wished it hadn't. His reawakening nostrils sucked in a detestable mixture of mildew, stale rodent droppings and a pungent rusting smell. That odor stew jabbed into his cloudy brain and caused his eyes to sputter open, his heavy eyelids fluttering reluctantly as they did so. While his unhappy nostrils were awash in sensation, his peering eyes saw little more than gloom and shadow. Slowly, his blinking eyes focused, taking advantage of what little light entered the room. The majority of the weak light came from his left, but when he turned his head to find its source, his neck screamed, and a thousand pinpoints of white hot fire howled from the base of his skull to the middle of his back. Still, he forced his head to continue its rotation, his mind needing to see something in this foul smelling room. The light came from a small window, at most two feet high by a foot across. This lone window sat sad and solitary about twenty-five feet above the reeking floor. The wall it inhabited was a good fifty or sixty feet in length and possibly equally as high. Clearly, the dim light entering that minuscule window was moonlight. It crept through the window as if, for some reason, afraid to pass through it into the room beyond. Jonathan let out a teeth-gritting moan as he tried to sit up. Every muscle in his body seemed to ache, every bone seemed bruised to its marrow. Groaning, he managed to get himself up on one elbow, waiting a few seconds for the pain to subside before trying to move further. Propped shakily on that elbow, he realized that his vision was becoming accustomed to the darkness, and he could make out a few objects, though just barely. Several large casks, possibly wine casks or the like, lined the wall opposite the anemic little window. Beyond them, and slightly toward the center of the room, a huge stone archway joined two massive pillars, each of those in turn joined by smaller archways to the walls of the room. For all intents and purposes, it appeared that Jonathan was lying on the floor of an ancient stone cellar lined with wine casks. The ringing in his ears slowly ceased its constant droning, to be replaced by more awful sounds. In the distance, somewhere beyond those barely visible archways, came the sounds of life, though apparently not pleasant life. The chittering and squealing of vermin confirmed the odor of droppings, and the straining moonlight shone brightly in tiny red eyes that darted about in the blackness beyond the archways. Jonathan strained to rise, but about halfway to a sitting position blood surged and pounded in his head, an aching throb that made him nearly black out, and he slumped back down on his back, staring up at the ceiling he couldn't see. And as he lay there, trying weakly to recover, the memories flooded back. His first memory was of strong fingers around his throat, lifting him in the air as if he weighed less than a thin sheet of parchment. The second memory was of his cut finger, and the thirsty animal that hungrily sucked the dribbling blood from it. Then the floodgates opened. Memory after memory raced into his reeling brain. The red, boiling eyes...the long fingernails that scratched his throat as the fingers squeezed...the foul metallic breath... the sharp pain in his neck as fangs sunk deep... being tossed down into this dungeon-like cellar as if he were but a child's doll... landing in pain, and sinking into oblivion. Dracula...the lord of this house, the inhuman creature who'd lured him here for the purpose of purchasing a new home in England.... in actuality a new den of death from which to reach out and secure an entirely new, unlimited source of victims. And when the deal was done, Jonathan was but another meal for the Lord of the Undead, and his partially drained husk was discarded as impersonally as another man might empty the trash. And that's how he came to find himself in this dank, foul smelling cellar, with skulking rats for company. But it wasn't the rats that frightened him. For now there came sounds of larger life, human life....or, rather, inhuman life. Centuries worth of dust began to swirl on the floor around him as a cold breeze blew at him from beyond the archways. Figures moved in the darkness, and three sets of shining red eyes hovered several feet above the smaller eyes of the skittering vermin below, the mice and rats fleeing whatever was now approaching. Under that central archway, three figures slowly coalesced and solidified around those glowing eyes. First, a wispy white figure appeared, then two others on either side of it. Three women - or what had once been women - glided into view, heads bowed slightly, but eyes fixed intently on Jonathan. Their hands were clasped together in front of them, as if each was praying to their Lord and Master. They didn't seem to be walking, but rather floating toward Jonathan, and as they glided ever nearer, evil grins formed on their blood red lips, lips made all the more starkly crimson by the pale flesh of the faces surrounding them...and because of the flowing white wedding dresses billowing softly about each of them. A hiss came from the creature in the center. "At last, he awakens," it said, the grin barely able to conceal the lusting tongue. "Yesssss...," the figure to the left concurred, "and hear how his blood pulses. Apparently, our Lord and Master has treated us to his leavings." The form on the right added, "Are you both as famished as I? Leavings or not, I crave the taste of blood, the yielding of soft flesh. I am hungry." "I'm sure we are easily as hungry as you are," center replied, but then looked Jonathan up and down and added, "but I hunger for much more than blood, my sisters." Their laughter was unholy, and not unlike the squealing of the rats. The creature on the right laughed so hard she had to put a red-clawed hand up to her mouth, but she squealed and snorted loudly nonetheless. All three continued their ghostly advance on the weakened and battered Mr. Harker. When they'd come to within a few yards of Jonathan, their eerie gliding stopped. They glared down at him, each inspecting him as if he were a side of beef to be prepared for the cooking pot. Despite his still being fully clothed, they eyed him up and down, one devouring his legs with her evil eyes, another licking her lips as she ogled his neck and shoulders, the third looking squarely between his legs. It was this last that made Jonathan most uneasy. The undead who'd been hungrily eyeing his neck and shoulders sucked in a huge lungful of air and hissed out words that were unnaturally stretched out and elongated as if she were saying them in her sleep. "Meat," it said, "by what name do they call you?" Taking umbrage at being called "meat", Jonathan nonetheless had the good sense to keep his opinions to himself. Even if he were completely uninjured, he'd have been hard pressed to fight off one of these undead things, let alone all three. This, if nothing else, he'd learned from his encounter with Dracula. If these blood-lusting women had even a tenth of the strength of their master, any one of them could easily snap him like a dried twig. His only hope lay in playing along, and praying for an opening to escape. "Meat!" the creature snarled, eyes blazing, "I asked you a question! By what name are you called?" Wide eyed and perspiring greatly, Jonathan answered, "Jonathan, ma'am....Jonathan Harker." "Well, Jonathan...to us you're meat...food...sustenance....life. I trust you understand what you've gotten yourself into now, don't you?" The other two creatures giggled, faces partially hidden by clawed fingers. "Yes," Jonathan offered, "you're all vampires." "Ooooh," said the creature that had snorted her laughter earlier, "such clever food. I can't wait to taste him now." "I, as well," said the vampiress in the center, "but this meat has much more than blood to offer, I think. I hunger for more than his blood flowing down my throat. I trust my sisters understand what I mean?" Again their cackling squeals filled the cavernous cellar, the unnerving sound echoing eerily from wall to wall and into the darkness beyond the archways. "But, let us not be impolite," the beast on the left said, "let us introduce ourselves to this poor man. It's the least we can do before we drain the life from him." "Well said," the center creature replied, "let's tell our food exactly who it is who shall be taking his blood, and other bodily fluids, from him." She bent at the knees in an exaggerated curtsy, one hand on her waist, the other flowing gently out to her side. "I, my little plaything, am Marlena, first bride of the Master." "And I," the snorter said, "am Lizette, second bride of Dracula." "And I," smiled the last, "am Consuela, Lord Dracula's third...and favorite...bride." The other two pale faces instantly snapped around to face her, hissing and spitting, eyes feral and dangerous. Consuela hissed back, eyes ablaze, fangs and claws bared. The three hunched over catlike and confronted one another, for the moment ignoring Jonathan, continuing to snarl and glare menacingly at each other. It was a tenuous moment, and came within a heartbeat of savage battle, which Jonathan hoped for as his moment to escape. But, the three undead brides got their rivalries under control at last and slowly straightened themselves from their attack postures. In unison, all three heads snapped back to glare at Jonathan. Still agitated, all three hissed at him, eyes smoldering. He cringed, thinking he was surely dead, and braced for the penetration of three pairs of dripping fangs. Noticing his preparedness to die, it was Marlena who laughed and spoke first. "Oh, no, my tender morsel....you'll not die so quickly. We are hungry, yes....but we wish to play with you first. We will give you sweet torments and exhausting pleasures to take with you to the grave. Surely, you don't want to die right away?" Laughing hideously, Consuela added, "Yes, meat....we like to play with our food." LIzette merely covered her mouth with a pale hand and laughed into it. Marlena advanced first, crouched in a stalking position. Consuela and Lizette got down on their hands and knees, advancing on Jonathan that way, their tongues licking their slavering lips. Jonathan looked from one to the other, his body aching and vulnerable...and it was at that instant that he realized there was never going to be even the remotest chance for escape.... As Marlena stalked menacingly toward him, Jonathan again cringed. His face became as ashen as the three unholy brides. His senses became heightened, and he could hear their tattered bridal gowns dragging on the dirty floor, dust billowing up in clouds around them. Lizette and Consuela crawled like hunting panthers on either side of him, smiling hideously and licking their lips. His ears caught every panting breath as if their evil mouths were already alongside his face. And from all three of those fanged mouths came a low growl.....rising from the pits of their blackened souls. It was Consuela who reached Jonathan first, a sudden lunge ending with her clawed fingers grasping his ankle tightly. He jumped and gasped at the cold touch. Consuela laughed. "Mmmm..," she grinned, "pretty meat is jumpy." While his eyes were focused on the salivating Consuela, another clawed hand grasped his other ankle, causing Jonathan's head to quickly swivel in that direction, eyes bulging. The rotation of his head was so sharp and quick that Jonathan thought he heard a cracking sound in his neck...but he felt no pain, so the thought was immediately dismissed. His reeling mind needed to concentrate on the danger at hand, for fanged death was but a heartbeat away. "You're right, my sister," hissed Lizette, "the meat is jumpy. But, oh, how delicious that quickly beating heart sounds." So intent was Jonathan on the claws on his ankles, and the leering, fanged faces of Lizette and Consuela, that Marlena was momentarily forgotten. That didn't last long. For, one second Marlena was standing at his feet, and the next instant her hot, panting, metallic breath was bathing his frightened face. His head swiveled once again, stopping with his bulging eyes pointed directly ahead. There, not six inches from his face, were the roiling red eyes of Malena, hunched over, straddling his chest, her strong hands already finding the back of his neck and lifting him toward her panting mouth. "You pay much too much attention to my sisters, meat," Marlena's red-lipped mouth said, "And I feel so neglected." Her sarcastic grin turned into a pout as she pulled his face and neck closer to it. "I don't like being ignored, meat. Being ignored hurts me so....and makes me angry. You won't ignore me again, will you, meat?" By now, Marlena was holding Jonathan off the floor, his bruised buttocks hovering several inches above the filthy stone. Only his ankles and heels still made contact with the floor, the long, taloned fingers of Consuela and Lizette anchoring them there. Marlena brought Jonathan's face near hers, so that the tip of his nose all but brushed against the tip of her own. Sweat dribbled down his face, and Marlena watched one drop glide slowly from his forehead down to his cheek, where it veered toward the back of his jaw and continued down to his neck. "How sweet of you, little Jonathan-meat. You even find a way of showing me where to take the life from you. That's so accommodating of you." The deep, hollow sound of those threatening words hadn't even completely faded before Marlena's grinning face disappeared from view. Sharp, hot pain seared his neck. His eyes grew wide with horror as the burning seemed to spread in an ever-widening circle over his leaking jugular. He could feel each of Marlena's sucks as a pulling sensation on his neck, and her hideous tongue licked as she sucked. His head was already beginning to swim when similar sensations occurred on each of his wrists. Lizette and Consuela were likewise feasting on his life's blood. With each burning, sucking sensation Jonathan's mind grew more hazy. It seemed as if his brain itself was actually becoming cold, the inside of his draining head chilling with each suck and lap at his neck and wrists. His eyes focused on the tiny little window way up high on the wall, the moonlight sneaking fearfully through it. He felt weak...tired. He knew he was dying, and tried in what moments he had left to make his peace with his Maker. Then, with a long, slow sigh, what little light there was in this hellish cellar, slowly disappeared. The shadows that had been held tenuously at bay, slowly crept up to, and over him....and all became darkness. Jonathan's head cleared in a blast of pain. It throbbed and ached, but he was not dead. Unless, of course, he was on his way to Heaven or Hell and was given the questionable blessing of being able to view the trip. But, as his head lolled painfully from side to side, he realized that even Hell might be preferred to the reality slowly morphing into view. He had the sensation of floating, as he watched wine kegs slowly drifting by. They looked distantly familiar. Then he looked up to see huge archways gliding by overhead. They, too, stirred memories. Slowly, painfully, memory returned. His body was somehow traveling through that same musty cellar, toward the darkened area beyond the archways, where tiny feral eyes had fled from larger, more sinister ones in a hazy time that seemed centuries ago. But, to Jonathan's surprise, the memories were not completely accurate. The vast expanse beyond the archways was anything but dark. Bright flames flickered and danced from wall torches and squatting braziers. The walls glowed orange and yellow over the gray-green of stone and mold. Darkness had been banished. The sensation of floating began to reorganize and edit itself in his slowly clearing mind. He wasn't floating at all. Strong, tight grips on his upper arms and calves helped him sort this information out. And his unclouding eyes focusing on tattered, moldy wedding gowns to his right and left further aided this revelation. He was being carried, as effortlessly as if he were but a twig. He got the impression that the fiends carrying him could easily toss him about the room whenever they wished...and his thoughts drifted back to the powerful Dracula, and how he'd thrown him down foul smelling steps into darkness as if he were lighter even than the briefcase in which he'd carried the deed to Carfax Abbey. Suddenly, Marlena loomed up before him, leering down at him. Beyond her, drapes of red silk cascaded from tarnished golden rings on the wall, looping from ring to ring. At the far ends of the loops of silk, still more silk flowed softly downward from their own rings, but to where Jonathan couldn't see. To his still murky mind, it all looked so sensual, so regally Victorian, like the boudoir of royalty. "Ahh....our Jonathan meat has survived after all," came the softly growled words from Marlena. "That is good. We have so many, more pleasurable, torments for you to endure. It would be a shame if you died before we could take more from you than blood." Consuela and Lizette hissed hideous laughter. The flowing silk and the leering Marlena disappeared quickly from view as Jonathan was rotated in a half circle by LIzette and Consuela. His eyes were briefly treated to the view of the cask room of the cellar, the room in which he'd been dumped by Dracula and then served as a meal for his brides. The room was dark now in contrast to this brightly flame-lit room, and not much could be seen, only a bright spot of light where the anemic little window still sat alone on the great expanse of wall, muted moonlight filtering through it. Suddenly, Jonathan really was floating..or rather flying. Consuela and Lizette tossed him as effortlessly as he'd imagined earlier, his head flying swiftly in the direction of the flowing folds of silk. The sensation was brief, as he landed with a muffled "whump" on some type of soft, yielding surface. As he hit that surface, more of the red silk material flew up around him, surrounding his body. It quickly came to rest all about him, some of it flowing gently over his body, cradling various parts of him in its soft, red embrace. As he looked around himself and realized the surface he'd landed on was a huge mattress covered in masses of red silk, Jonathan's mind finally relinquished its desperate hold on denial and was forced to accept that there was more horror to come. Dracula's unholy harem wanted a plaything of their own...and he was it. As they'd said earlier, his blood wasn't the only fluid these demons were interested in. With a shudder, Jonathan saw that which he dreaded....the three vampiric brides at the foot of the huge, silk-laden mattress, each one leering and needy. Slowly, they removed their decaying gowns and let them drop to the floor. No dust rose to meet them as they fell, and a quick glance about showed Jonathan why. The floor in this room was actually free of dirt and dust....in about a thirty or forty foot radius around the bed. The overly fat rodents with their gleaming red eyes would not cross that line between clean and filthy flooring, as if knowing that crossing that border would mean a painful and grisly end to their existence. Jonathan's eyes went back to the immediate threat. Marlena, Consuela and LIzette stood naked at the foot of the mattress, which Jonathan now knew was to be a bed for twisted carnal pleasuring of the dead. He shuddered to think of the horrible tastes these undead women might have....what sick needs they would be thrusting upon him. But in spite of his loathing of what these women had become, his eyes betrayed him. They eagerly... yes, eagerly... scanned from bride to bride, taking in their nakedness, cataloguing and rating each and every well rounded curve. The True Ordeal of Jonathan Harker In spite of their pale flesh, these vampire women had all the charms of any real woman. Marlena's breasts were full and firm, her nipples large and pink. They seemed warm even though Jonathan knew they couldn't be. Her hips were full, her bottom round. And though she was more plump than Consuela or Lizette, she was not what he'd consider heavy. His mind could only categorize her as "lush". Consuela, though pale, had more color to her than her sisters. Her breasts were very large, more watermelon in shape than round... with dark brown nipples. Her right breast bore a one inch scar just below the aureola. Consuela's sex was extremely bushy, no flesh immediately visible to the eye. Lizette was the smallest of the three. She stood maybe five feet tall, firm and muscular. Her waist was thin, her figure more than likely having never required a corset of any kind. Her breasts were average size, her nipples proud but small. Her belly was flat and looked strong enough to stand on. In contrast to Consuela's, Lizette's sex was nearly hairless, the fleshy lips clearly visible between her smooth white thighs. That pink flesh caused a stirring between Jonathan's legs, which he fought with all his will power lest the three dark sisters notice, thereby increasing their unholy ardor. Marlena, seemingly always the one to initiate things, looked from side to side, first at Consuela and then to Lizette. "Shall we?" she said. "Oh, yes, indeed," said Lizette, licking her lips and eyeing Jonathan from head to toe, "I haven't tasted anything but blood in decades. And this little meat has so much to be tasted." Consuela added with a hiss, "Ohhh, yesssssss....let'ssss play." Jonathan didn't even see any specific movement at that point, only a blur as the three salivating bitches leaped onto the bed, claws grasping for him, tearing at every inch of his clothing at once. Hands raked and clawed the dark material of his business suit, the ruffles of his sweat-soaked white shirt. Shards flew in every direction. He squirmed and resisted, even though he knew it was futile. And he probably shouldn't have, because the lustful fury of these hellish women was such that they didn't care if they raked his fragile skin with their claws. It was the least of their concerns. In less than a minute, his body was completely devoid of clothing, even his shoes torn to bits. Amazingly, he only had about a half dozen or so claw wounds....wounds that were instantly licked and sucked by his captors. They snarled and moaned hideously as they sucked at his wounds, lapping with hungry tongues. The women sat up, Consuela wiping blood from her lips, Marlena savoring droplets on her tongue, slurping them with her head bent backward as if to feel them glide lazily down her tongue and throat. Lizette was already eyeing Jonathan's manhood. "Mmmm....such tasty looking meat," Lizette said, staring at Jonathan's flaccid penis. Then, with the suddenness of a cobra strike, Lizette turned to glare at Consuela and Marlena, eyes blazing and fangs bared. "I get to eat it first," she snarled. The other two hissed and postured, but ultimately declined to do battle...yet. "Then the tongue is mine!" howled Marlena. Before Jonathan could even blink, Marlena had crawled up the bed and straddled his head, facing his legs. She wanted to watch her sister devour Jonathan's "meat", while she fed her own special treat to him. Briefly, Consuela thought to battle for the position Marlena had occupied, but thought better of it. Her time would come, she would see to that. Marlena, flushed with her victory, looked down at the prostrate Jonathan. Despite himself, he was looking up at her glistening sex, which hovered directly over his face, the fleshy folds of her lips mere inches from his mouth. His nostrils filled themselves with its scent, and his breathing quickened. It was as beautiful and inviting as any true woman's genitals, and he couldn't help himself. He desired to taste it... so much so that his face flushed with that intense desire. "Mmmm.....I think Jonathan-meat likes Marlena's offering. Maybe Jonathan-meat would like to taste it... lick it for her?" She lowered herself, resting her carpeted sex lightly on his lips. Jonathan hesitated, at once repulsed and aroused. Apparently, he hesitated a heartbeat too long. Marlena lifted herself away from his face. She looked down at him again. This time she was glaring with controlled rage. "Little meat had better begin licking if he knows what's good for him. The pain you've felt up until now is nothing compared to what we can...and are willing to....inflict upon you. Besides, I know that look on a man's face, Jonathan-meat. You want to taste it, don't you? So, swallow your pride, and swallow something else while you're down there." She laughed, pleased with her joke, and so did Consuela and Lizette. "Now, little meat...don't anger me again. I want to feel your tongue pleasing me immediately, or you will suffer greatly." With that she sat down on his mouth again, hard, moving around impatiently, her wetness slickening his lips. After making her point, she eased up a bit, removing some of her weight from his face, giving his mouth room to function. Jonathan opened his mouth wide. He told himself it was out of fear only that he did so, but to his shame, deep in his heart and soul he knew that was a lie. He opened his mouth and aimed his tongue at that moist crevice for the basest of reasons... desire... lust. His tongue crept out, slowly, and he ran the tip of it along her slit. Marlena's eyes grew wide, then shut. Her fanged mouth opened in a sigh and her head bent backwards once again. She began moving her hips, letting her slit play around Jonathan's lips and tongue, but not hindering them. Her claws dug into Jonathan's chest as she became more and more aroused by his probing tongue. It had been so, so long... Again despite himself, Jonathan became more and more aroused. His tongue took to exploring and probing excitedly. Waves of pleasure flowed in two directions from that active tongue... upward to Marlena's vibrating clit, and forward along Jonathan's body to his swollen manhood. Lizette's mouth hungrily sucked on his penis, her long tongue lapping it like a dog happily licking its master's face. She licked his shaft, the head, his testicles, as if she wanted to lick the skin clean off. She panted and sighed as she lapped and took his growing member into her mouth, most of the air escaping through her nose because her mouth was so full and busy. Unholy sucking sounds echoed throughout the cavernous chamber as she voraciously tried to cram every inch of it down her throat. Jonathan loathed himself for it, but he hardened in Lizette's mouth. His tongue began to desire Marlena's dripping sex and explored it with more conviction and purpose, to her unending glee. With Marlena squirming on his face and Lizette devouring his now fully erect penis, Jonathan began to enjoy this forced servicing of these creatures' unholy needs. Now he wasn't only their plaything.....he had become a willing participant. LIzette sucked him hungrily. Marlena squirmed joyfully on his probing tongue. And Consuela could only watch. So, waiting her turn, she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She reached down and slipped two fingers between her legs, playing in her own burning chasm. Her other hand played with her ample breasts, teasing and pinching the nipples...sometimes pulling on them hard, stretching them. She bounced alongside the fused trio, blissfully enjoying her own body while watching them. But, all the while, despite pleasuring herself, she planned her own attacks upon Jonathan's maleness. All in good time. After all, if they played this right, the three vampiresses could make this last for decades, keep Jonathan servicing their insatiable appetites until he could no longer function. Then they could simply find another slave to satisfy their inhuman needs and desires. Yes, there was time. Her chance would surely come. She would soon enjoy the rewards of patience. In the meantime, she was doing very nicely on her own. Jonathan winced as Lizette's canines grazed his swollen manhood. Busily sucking at his groin, her tongue registered a familiar copper taste, as one side of his throbbing member released a minute trickle of blood. Two counterproductive incidents occurred as a result of this. Lizette's already considerable sexual appetite was fueled by the arousing taste of Jonathan's blood, and she began to lick and suck at him with increased vigor. However, the pain of sharp fangs raking the sides of his shaft began to soften his penis ever so slightly. This at first frustrated Lizette, then infuriated her. Her mouth released his semi-erect cock and she reared back to snarl her displeasure. Her hand continued to squeeze and stroke him as she glared at him with feral eyes. Her mind teetered on the edge of bestial fury...and animalistic violence. But there was no way Jonathan could see her anger. Marlena was hopping and grinding on his face, obliterating even the remotest chance of him seeing that bestial glare of rage ...or anything else for that matter. And to topple Marlena from her obviously satisfying position would yet again risk savage battle. Lizette wasn't sure she was willing to do that. Where Consuela's loyalty might lie in such a clash was unknown...and not worth the risk. Instead, Lizette decided to modify herself to accommodate Jonathan's mortal weakness, and thereby once again get his penis throbbing in her mouth. Using only the tiniest fraction of her vampiric power of shape-shifting, she concentrated on her canines, willing them to recede into her gums. It wasn't blood she was after now, but other bodily fluids. Besides, she could call back her deadly fangs at will...any time she wanted or needed them. Right now they were in the way of her receiving a refreshing, decades-forgotten taste of semen. When she needed Jonathan's blood again, her deadly spears would not fail her. She could do without them for a bit. Her teeth properly blunted, Lizette returned to sucking ravenously on Jonathan...who reinflated nicely. For the moment, the crisis was forgotten as Lizette savored something she hadn't tasted in nearly a century...and she growled her lust as she slurped messily on his organ. Marlena's sex was dripping and steaming on Jonathan's face. Breathing was difficult at best, but he knew the consequences of making her unhappy. If Jonathan's tongue missed a beat or if it wasn't in exactly the right place at the right time, Marlena's claws dug into his chest and she growled as she pushed her sticky carpet forcefully against his mouth to give him the message. Already rivulets of blood trickled downward from ten separate tears in his chest...one at each of Marlena's fingertips. He was doing his very best oral servicing for her, fearing what painful repercussions might befall him should he fail to please the face riding hellion... at least that's what he once again told himself to preserve what little self respect he still had for himself. Lizette moaned and slurped loudly at Jonathan's cock, lapping and sucking madly, snorting and almost cackling with glee. Consuela, up until now pleasuring herself with probing, pinching fingers, saw the tiny dribbles of blood on Jonathan's chest and her eyes grew wide. Springing like a cat, she lunged at him and licked the blood hungrily from his chest all the way down to where it dripped from the side of his ribcage to the scarlet silk below. The taste of the blood set her brain afire, and she again slipped two long fingers deeply between her legs, the clawlike nails having long since been retracted. There, they thrust in and out of her furiously. Her moans matched Lizette's somewhat muffled ones. The taste of blood and the drilling fingers soon had Consuela on the brink of undead orgasm. Jonathan couldn't understand what was happening to him. Between his fear of these twisted caricatures of women, and the revulsion they instilled in him, he couldn't imagine how he could possibly maintain an erection in their presence, let alone roll headlong toward even the semblance of an orgasm. But he was indeed careening in that direction...and he loathed himself for it. Lizette's sucking mouth and licking tongue had him throbbing toward release, a burning sensation filling his shaft and tightening testicles. It was an intensely erotic heat that spread out in all directions from his burning cock to eventually include his entire abdomen. It made his sex organs feel strong...powerful...bursting with energy. The fluids within them boiled and seethed inside him. He could feel the roiling semen almost bubbling in his testicles, molten hot and ready to surge forward through his cock, into Lizette's waiting mouth. He'd never felt anything like it before in his life. Despite his revulsion for these women, he embraced his coming orgasm. Marlena beat him to it. With her claws embedded at least a half inch into the flesh of his chest, she screamed a wail of the undead as her fluids burst from her. Like a wolf baying at the moon, she arched her back and howled at the ceiling, her thighs squeezing against the sides of Jonathan's head as she bucked her hips rapidly. Jonathan thought he would surely suffocate, between the already limited amount of air and the now freely flowing liquids spurting hotly onto his face. He gasped and choked, but Marlena kept his face trapped tightly between her thighs and under her gushing sex. To her, Jonathan's sputtering and thrashing beneath her was that much more stimulation between her thighs...and she enjoyed it immensely. If he died so soon, that would indeed be a pity, but that didn't mean she was going to lessen her pleasure one tiny bit. Again Jonathan surprised himself. When he began sending huge spurts of life-giving semen into Lizette's hungry mouth, he felt like an animal himself. The heat that had been confined to his groin was rapidly spreading throughout his entire body. He felt so powerful...so sexual...so...lustful. That intense sexual heat spread even to his head, where his tongue now lapped at Marlena with purpose. Even though he could barely breathe as it was, his hands reached up and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her already smothering pussy tightly to his face...where he sucked and licked at her savagely. Still more fluids flooded his face...his nose...his mouth. But this time he didn't choke or sputter. He reveled in it...savored every drop...and continued to lick her, ultimately chewing and sucking her clit. Marlena howled again, pounding his face and shrieking her pleasure. The howling continued for some time... the echoes even longer. Consuela's fingers finally accomplished their task. They had brought her to the precipice of orgasm. Watching Marlena's pounding climax on Jonathan's tongue, and hearing Lizette moan as her mouth filled with sperm, sent her over that precipice...and she came heavily around her fingers, her tongue in mid lick along a tasty streak on Jonathan's ribcage. Her self-induced orgasm made her fall forward, off balance, where her open mouth latched onto flesh at Jonathan's chest, not far from Marlena's deeply burrowing claws. Fangs pierced that sweaty skin, drawing blood, drinking it down. And a new erotic sensation filled her...the sensation of hot blood flowing down her throat. She climaxed again, her sticky fluids drenching her clit-squeezing fingers. After long minutes of savoring the taste of Jonathan's sticky sweet semen, Lizette experienced her own release. It had been so long since she last sucked cock that the simple act of doing so brought about a somewhat satisfying climax for her as well. It wasn't earth shattering by any means, but it would do for starters, she told herself. In fact, it was unexpected, so it was fulfilling simply from that perspective alone. Squeezing the last drops from Jonathan's dribbling head, Lizette licked them up and smiled as she rubbed her burning, dripping crotch against the silky red folds beneath her, grinding herself into them as she sighed her pleasure. Even as she licked the last glistening drops from the tip of Jonathan's penis, Lizette's eyes focused on Consuela, once again sucking Jonathan's life's blood from him. Still grinding her wet crotch into the soft silk, Lizette felt the blood lust rise in her. Holding a man's rigid cock in her hands again after so long had become so important to her, that even when her mouth found a tender spot on Jonathan's inner thigh from which to drink deeply of his blood, she never let go of his softening member. Reemerging from their hiding place in her gums, Lizette's fangs crept outward, sharp and savage. Still holding Jonathan's cock, squeezing it gently but firmly...she again filled her stomach...with blood this time. Marlena fell sideways off of Jonathan's wet, ravaged face. She basked briefly in the aftermath of her long, intense orgasm. She lay there gasping, staring up at the spiders darting along the stone ceiling, peering through distance and dimness that only a vampire's nocturnal vision could penetrate. She was exhausted, and exhaustion brought on the hunger. She rolled over and looked at Jonathan. He lay there, eyes glazed, chest heaving. Attached to his chest was the sucking mouth of Consuela. Attached to his left thigh was another sucking mouth, belonging to Lizette. The hunger burned into Malena's brain, and she could no longer resist. Eyes blazing, mouth wide and hissing, Marlena's canines dug deeply into the soft flesh of Jonathan's neck, piercing the jugular. Again Jonathan could feel his blood surging out of him into three sucking mouths. But this time his entire body was burning hot. Something churned, boiled inside him. Some otherworldly heat...a supernatural power. He didn't get weak as his blood left him, but rather became more powerful. The searing heat inside him was lust...and the more these once-women sucked the blood from him, the more perverted and depraved his lustful thoughts became. He let them feast. He enjoyed it. Every second of their sucking made the fires in him burn hotter. He smiled, holding back mocking laughter. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he liked it...he reveled in it. He had such deliciously disgusting thoughts about what he now wanted to do to these women. Go on, he thought, fill yourselves...take your time...but when you're done I will be the one filling you...all of you...in ways of my choosing. It was Lizette who was first to notice the change. For, still held securely in her hand, Jonathan's cock began to rise, swelling...throbbing...growing with each twisted sexual thought. That thickly swollen member took Lizette's mind off her blood lust instantly. She looked up from Jonathan's bruised thigh and briefly watched it throb in her hands. Then she looked beyond that pulsing organ to find Jonathan grinning down at her. His mouth curled into a sinister sneer and he spat three demeaning words at her. Leering, his face a playground for depraved lust, he hissed, "Come here, bitch!" Lizette's moment of shock and surprise passed quickly. Not yet understanding the full magnitude of the change that had come over Jonathan, anger welled up inside every fiber of her undead being. Her eyes, at first wide with surprise at Jonathan's words, became angry slits, glowing fiercely. Her slackened jaw tightened and her razor sharp canines elongated an extra half inch. She hissed like a venomous snake and slowly sat up between Jonathan's legs, her entire body trembling with seething anger. "How...dare...you," she said, barely able to keep from lunging at him and ripping out his throat. The words were deep and resonant, almost like a man's voice. As she glared at him, Lizette poised for the attack, her claws elongating as her teeth had done. The True Ordeal of Jonathan Harker By now Consuela and Marlena had become aware of the unfolding situation. Both had stopped drinking Jonathan's blood and were watching him and Lizette intently, their eyes darting from one to the other. They sat back, twisted glee on their faces as they watched their sister prepare to rend the hapless Jonathan. "Yes, I dare, you mindless, cock-sucking bitch. Did you like my semen filling your mouth? Was it a pleasant change from the blood of scurrying vermin? Have you always been a cock-sucking whore? Or has my impressive cock managed to inflame a new passion in you?" Consuela and Marlena jumped back, well off the silk-covered mattress, just in time. The enraged Lizette lunged for Jonathan's already bloodied throat. She was almost unseeable, a blur of speed and action. But still she wasn't fast enough. Jonathan caught her easily, his own eyes beginning to glow like burning coals. He caught Lizette in mid-leap, twisting himself to one side as he knocked her to the other. She fell, snarling and clawing, on her face on the mattress, the soft silk billowing up around her like a silken splash, as if she'd dropped heavily into crimson water. Before she could recover, Jonathan pounced on her back. With one palm on the back of her head, he pushed her face forcefully into the mattress, causing her to flail about angrily, hissing and spitting into the suffocating silk. As vehement as those grunts and growls were, however, they were mostly muffled by both the silk and the mattress, making LIzette's struggles look like a comedic silent movie show. With his other arm, Jonathan reached around Lizette's waist and lifted her off the bed. Still holding her head down roughly, Jonathan laughed derisively as he got on his knees behind her and slammed his swollen cock into her still moist pussy. LIzette howled as he pounded into her again and again, his hips thrusting so hard that her entire body quaked with each thrust and air was forced from her lungs into the suffocating mattress. "Why so angry, Lizette?" Jonathan laughed, "This is what you wanted, isn't it? A good fuck! A hard cock ripping you in half from your vagina to your blood-filled stomach! What could be more satisfying to an undead whore like yourself? Just lie there like a good harlot and let me fuck you!" By now, Consuela and Marlena had become enraged as well. Rivalries aside, this was their sister being treated like Jonathan's personal whore. That was a submissive role they took on only in the presence of the Master, and it could be tolerated with no other man, ever, especially a mere human being. And so, while Jonathan's pounding penis tore into Lizette's sex time and again, the two other brides circled around the bed, preparing to attack him from both sides at once and free their humiliated sister. But as they once again assumed attack postures, something occurred to them...something that confused them both. It made them pull back from their attack modes and listen more closely. Jonathan's grip on Lizette's head had eased somewhat, and the sounds coming from her mouth were no longer muffled. No...they could be clearly heard...and they were no longer sounds of snarling anger. What came from Lizette's mouth now were moans...sighs...wails of pleasure. Guttural, animalistic sounds...but sounds of pleasure nonetheless. Consuela and Marlena looked at each other. They were still unsure what to do. By the time they acted, Jonathan's orgasm was already filling Lizette. In the space of just minutes, Lizette had been filled twice by his cream...once in her mouth, and the second time in her sex. Both times filled her with a joy she hadn't experienced in oh so many years. When the sated Jonathan removed his dribbling muscle from her, she slumped on the mattress, exhausted and drooling, and apparently, for the moment, quite satisfied. Her eyes were glazed and her still quivering thighs were drenched in Jonathan's sticky fluids...and her own. She had indeed enjoyed being Jonathan's semen receptacle for a second time, for as she lay quietly sighing, her leaking pussy was actually quivering. Her nearly hairless mound quaked in spasm after spasm of slowly subsiding pleasure. With her eyes closed, LIzette's undead mouth was curled into a deeply satisfied smile. Consuela and Marlena didn't know whether to kill Jonathan outright for his attack on their sister, or jump him for more personal reasons. But looking down at Lizette's smiling, drooling face, they opted for the latter. And yet, even as they made that common, unspoken decision, Jonathan was already taking matters into his own hands. Lizette had managed to dazedly roll onto her back, her legs spread wide and her hand, claws retracted, mindlessly rubbing her ravaged slit. With the speed of light, Jonathan's hand reached out and caught the unprepared Marlena by the throat. She struggled briefly but to no avail. His strong grip pulled her head toward him, slinging her about like a rag doll. But, with a gleam in his eye, he changed the direction in which he propelled her head. With his free hand he reached down and relieved Lizette's slit-rubbing hand of its duties. In its place he shoved the surprised face of Marlena, pushing it forcefully into the sticky cleft. "Lick her," he ordered, "I want to watch you lick your sister. I want to see your tongue lap up her juices and mine. Lick her clean, bitch, and I'll fuck you like I fucked her." Consuela was next. Still forcing Marlena's face into Lizette's crotch, Jonathan's other hand snared Consuela's waist as it had Lizette's moments ago. He lifted her off the bed and slung her across his body toward Marlena. He unceremoniously dumped her on top of Marlena, which momentarily forced her face even more firmly into Lizette's dribbling slit. He reached around Consuela and grabbed a breast, pinching and fondling it. He did this for only a few seconds, and then removed his hand from her breast so he could use it to lift Consuela's leg high in the air. He prepared to enter yet another undead cunt. But, he thought about it...and that perverted grin once again crossed his lips. He slipped two, then three fingers into Consuela's anus and worked them around inside her, loosening her up for his huge member. He then whisked his fingers from her and shoved the head of his formidable cock into her hastily prepared sphincter. Almost immediately thereafter, he crudely rammed the rest of it home. She howled, but not with the expected pain. Her squirming with pleasure on his tool of impalement told him that much. Consuela licked her lips and panted like an animal while Jonathan hammered her long-untouched bottom. Jonathan reveled in the slurping noises coming from Lizette's groin as Marlena feasted on mingled fluids. His grip on Marlena's licking head lessened somewhat, but he enjoyed holding her face in her sister's crotch, so he continued to do so. He fucked Consuela's ass with the same enthusiasm he had Lizette's warm, wet sex. And to add spice to the act, he reached between her legs, his fingers probing soft pink folds, entering her as they pleased, and teasing and pinching her white hot bulb. Lizette's eyes were glazed over, her stark red lips smiling as Marlena licked at her core. Marlena seemed to be enjoying the taste of her sister and was lapping contentedly between white thighs. Consuela was snarling her pleasure at having Jonathan's erect muscle ravaging her colon and his probing fingers claiming her sex as their own. The three undead sisters were sublimely happy...and Jonathan, now in control, was also pleased with this turn of events. One moment he was under the threat of imminent death, or at least death whenever one of these women so wished it, and the next he was treating them like his personal harlots, his playthings. It appeared as though he'd gone from their "meat" to their Master. And Master appealed to him much more than "meat". Lizette's orgasm was much stronger this time, her fluids gushing into Marlena's mouth as she lapped. Her hot cream glided down Marlena's throat, along with some of Jonathan's. Marlena continued to lap breathlessly at the erupting mixture. Unknown to Jonathan, Consuela had reached her hand between Marlena's legs, which was the reason for Marlena's apparent enthusiasm for licking between Lizette's thighs. Consuela's fingers must have been well versed in pleasure, for Marlena also reaped orgasmic benefits. It was some time later that Consuela finally flowed around Jonathan's fingers, and still a few minutes after that that Jonathan filled her bottom with cream. Sighs and moans and wails filled the cavernous cellar, echoing off the ancient walls and ceiling. Tiny maws chittered and squealed excitedly in the darker corners of the cellar. Lizette, having had three orgasms in the space of some thirty minutes, was nearly catatonic. Marlena had slumped face first into Lizette's sticky slit. Consuela lay exhausted, her panting face resting on Marlena's sweat covered ass. Jonathan, still horny, his cock itching for more orifices to fill, sat and watched the three panting brides. Just looking at them made his penis throb and ache for more. Whatever had happened to him, had made him come alive from his head to his toes, crackling with power and lust... insatiable... and he basked in it shamelessy... even arrogantly. And then he thought about it, his mind wandering from the scene of the three exhausted vamp-women to what must have occurred to make him this way. There was only one explanation. When his three undead companions had sunk their fangs into him and drained his blood while using him for other purposes, at least one of them must have allowed her own blood - or the mingled blood of countless victims - to mix with his. The vampiric taint must have coursed through his body, hence the burning sensation first in his groin and then throughout his body. The fact that it began in his groin led him to believe Lizette was possibly to blame, because it was she who sucked at his upper thigh, unless she introduced the infection through his penis while performing other sucking activities. Yes, and she'd had that other opportunity, as well... when her sharp teeth nicked his swollen shaft and drew blood... blood which she lapped at before returning to more carnal pursuits. In any event, whichever one - or possibly all three? - had infected him, Jonathan was no longer a mere human. Nor was he totally vampire. He wondered if he was dead or alive... or something between. Surely he was more than either human or vampire, or even both combined. Ultimately, he didn't care. He felt godlike, powerful... supreme! Whatever had changed him, had done so for the better. He felt no blood lust... only sexual lust. He grew no fangs, but his throbbing muscle seemed larger, thicker, dense as iron... and his testicles virtually bloated with semen enough to fill every woman in the surrounding countryside... not to mention the three insatiable sluts panting like dogs on this makeshift bed. He felt strong, too. He had tossed the three brides of Dracula about as easily as he'd swat a fly. They felt light as feathers, their fiercest thrashings not the least bit able to break his grips on them. He had the distinct impression that he could pummel his way though the ancient stone walls of this moldering castle with his bare fists if he chose to. And then he knew. He was the new Lord and Master of Castle Dracula. He was the new master of these three undead whores. And he was the new supreme ruler of Transylvania, every woman his for the taking... his private, unending stock of concubines. It made him smile. It made his chest swell. It made his cock throb in his stroking hand. He looked down at that stroking hand. He snarled. It was beneath the new Lord of Transylvania to pleasure himself thus! That's what a harem was for! And his bitches had had enough rest. It was time for them to earn their keep in his protective custody. Still stroking himself, he reached with his other hand and grabbed Consuela roughly by the hair. He yanked hard, flinging her backward, a surprised and pained howl screeching from her lips. By her hair, he twirled her around painfully until she faced him, her mouth still screaming. Down he thrust her head, his stroking hand no longer stroking but holding his penis steady at its base. Consuela's open mouth slid halfway down his shaft before it stopped. If vampires needed to breathe, she surely would have choked at the very least. With Consuela's mouth surrounding his muscle, Jonathan got quickly up on his knees and began thrusting into it, holding her firmly by the back of her neck. The resulting slurping sound echoed throughout the musty cellar. Lizette and Marlena, now fully alert, watched as Jonathan pummeled Consuela's face. Their eyes gleamed with renewed lust, and they looked to Jonathan for new instructions. Jonathan liked that very much. They had already come to see him as their new Master, and waited for his orders. He pointed at Marlena and barked, "Get behind me, bitch! Lick my sack while your sister sucks me. And be quick about it! It will help me fill your sister's mouth that much more quickly." A cruel smile crossed his lips as Marlena scurried quickly behind him, getting on all fours at first, and then down lower onto her elbows. She looked at his large, low-hanging scrotum as it bounced with each thrust of his manhood into Consuela's mouth. It excited her. She crawled up between his thighs and pressed her face up under his ass, tongue leading the way. She lapped that dangling, bouncing sack slowly at first, then faster as lust overcame her. Licking his balls, then sucking them, she tried to keep up with his thrusting hips... for this time, it was she who knew the consequences of failure to please. As a result of being on her elbows and knees, Marlena's bottom was high in the air. Jonathan looked around to first watch Marlena trying so hard to lick and suck his testicles, and then further back to her swaying ass. He grinned. He turned back to the unoccupied Lizette. She froze, but her body quivered with anticipation. "Your sister did you a favor, slut. Malena licked your dripping slit and gave you pleasure. Return the favor. Get behind her and lick her slit in return... and do just as well for her as she did for you. You've sucked cock... now lick pussy. Move, slut!" His roar sent untold dozens of vermin dashing off into the darkness. Lizette scurried to please her Master just as quickly as Marlena had. And just as Marlena had positioned her head at her Master's bottom, Lizette likewise placed hers at Marlena's. Marlena was eager for another good licking, so she spread her legs wide to give Lizette plenty of room. If she hadn't been so intent on pleasing her Master, she would have turned around to snicker at Lizette for being ordered to lick her. Lizette couldn't get low enough to lick Marlena properly, so she rolled onto her back, crawled under Marlena and raised her lips to her already dripping pussy. She spread her wide with her fingers and inserted her tongue. Marlena, Jonathan's left testicle in her mouth, sighed deeply. He felt the rush of warm air on his genitals when she did. Jonathan held Consuela's head in both his hands, squeezing it tightly out of pure lust. With a cry of release, he came into that sucking mouth, burst after burst of relief. Consuela fought to swallow it as fast as Jonathan delivered it. She felt it spurting inside her mouth, down her throat, ricocheting off her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Jonathan pulsed repeatedly into her mouth for several minutes. He watched her bulging eyes and stretched mouth as he emptied himself, filling her. And as he came, he noticed with pride and glee that his orgasms, rather than becoming shorter and weaker, were increasing in both intensity and duration, his supply of semen seemingly endless. Moans from behind him told him that one, or both, of Consuela's sisters was achieving her own satisfaction. Marlena's lessening dedication to the licking of his scrotum indicated to him that it was she who was enjoying release. But a quick glance back to the quivering legs and gushing slit of Lizette informed him that she, too, was happy. Apparently, it had been so long for these resurrected sluts, that even the act of licking or sucking another was enough to get them gushing like a bubbling hot spring. All that remained was Consuela's climax. Releasing his grip on her head and removing his penis from her mouth, Jonathan rolled her quickly onto her back, then grabbed her upper thighs and lifted her into the air. Digging his thumbs and fingers into her white thigh flesh, he spread her legs wide. Pulling her damp crotch to his face, he burrowed his mouth into her thickly carpeted quim, his tongue drilling deeply into her quivering slit. As he inserted his tongue into her, he noticed, once again with pride, that even his tongue had enlarged, becoming a strong muscle of at least five good inches. All of it he plunged into her lustful chasm... deep, round, full, and wriggling about inside her. She squirmed and gasped. When Jonathan's strong mouth sucked at her clit, nipping it and pulling on it, sticky liquid flooded from Consuela's molten core. She climaxed long and hard, sighing and moaning loudly... until she finally went limp, dangling from Jonathan's powerful grip. With a satisfied chuckle, Jonathan dropped her to the cum-stained silk below. The dull thud of her landing was drowned out completely by the sounds escaping her smiling lips. The three night whores once again slumped onto silken folds, exhausted and grinning. Jonathan looked sadly at them, his inhuman penis already priming for further action. It was now obvious that these three would never be enough for him. He would exhaust them daily, thought it would take much to accomplish that. Still, he knew that he'd need a larger harem. Whether human or vampire, he cared not... but clearly many more women would be needed to please him continually... to satisfy his vastly increased sex drive. As daylight approached, Jonathan knew his undead concubines would need to retreat from the oncoming sunlight. Knowing time was short, he couldn't afford to get clever. So he simply fucked each of the women one more time before allowing them to scurry to their coffins, drained and sore...but as happy as a vampire can be Still he was not totally satisfied, but he had no choice. Sadly, such were the limitations of a vampire harem. Leaving the now slutless room, he padded sadly under the torchlit arch, his sizable and still moderately erect penis pointing the way. His eyes sought out the tiny window high up on the gray stone, as one would search for a long lost friend. Sunlight was just beginning to wake the countryside, crawling meekly through the window. It hit him squarely on his naked chest, having no effect on him whatsoever. He let the light play over him, basking in its warmth. The only thing that made this morning incomplete was the fact that he was still horny. He reached down and grabbed his cock, lightly stroking it, wishing his harem didn't have to retire just yet. He smiled as he thought how eagerly they'd please him if things could continue... but then frowned when he realized again that even the three of them couldn't keep him satisfied for long. As he walked toward the stairs that he'd been so callously tossed from, he thought of Dracula. A rage seethed within him. That rage grew with each step he climbed. This castle was his now. He had power beyond anything he'd ever imagined, and he now owned this land, this country. Unlike Dracula, he could explore the land at will, day or night. He could ravage the women, and wouldn't need to drink their blood. Their other, sweeter nectar could be his, over and over again. He wouldn't skulk from window to window to suck blood from soft throats. He would enter boldly and deflower maidens at will. Even wives and mothers would service his needs. And every one of them would beg him to come back night after night, day after day. The True Ordeal of Jonathan Harker He walked up to the main hallway, then from there to the huge main entrance. He opened the mammoth double door with a single pull from both his strong hands, and once again basked in warm sunlight as it played over his naked form. He stepped out into the brightness and raised his arms, exulting in his newfound power and strength... and lust. He cared not if anyone saw him in his nakedness. Men meant nothing to him now, and any women who saw him thus would surely kneel before him and beg for his favors. Besides, this was his house, his land... and he would do as he pleased. Already he could smell sex. His nostrils flared and sucked in the scent of every woman within a hundred mile radius of Castle Dracula... which would henceforth be known as Harker Castle. Yes, he now had an ego to match his power and strength, and it dictated a name change for this home he'd now claimed as his own. His... all his, he thought. Every flower of every mother and daughter till the end of his days... which he somehow knew would be centuries away. All of them his to rape and ravage and plunder... every debauchery, every wicked perversion he could devise. All of it...his for the taking. To think... only hours ago he teetered on the brink of eternal blackness... either death or vampiric damnation. And now, ruler of all he surveyed. How fickle the fates truly were! Only one thing irritated him. Dracula. He briefly thought about searching for him, repaying him for his treachery, but mostly for his unceremonious trash-like discarding of him. No one would ever do that to him again. In the end, Jonathan decided to stay here... to use his power to corrupt women and plunder their charms. To make them beg him to let them give him pleasure. Yes... here he'd stay. But, a wonderful idea came to him. Just as he'd been summoned by Dracula, he could likewise summon Dracula. Yes, tomorrow he would write a post to England. He'd contrive some way to draw Dracula back. Perhaps taunt the Lord of the Undead, shame him into returning and confronting him. Yes, that would do nicely. Tomorrow, first thing, the letter would be written. But, for now, he was still in need of pleasuring. He returned inside to find clothing so he could dress properly to search for succulent victims to appease his sexual hungers. Once dressed, he left Harker Castle in search of pleasure. He followed the scents... oh, so many delectable fragrances. As he walked into the crisp countryside, he had one final thought of Dracula. He would indeed belittle the disgusting creature into returning to Transylvania. He'd tell him how he'd taken over the castle and claimed all of Transylvania for himself. He would describe in detail how he'd used the vampire lord's previously unsatisfied brides to satisfy his most personal needs, and how he'd satisfied them as Dracula himself had never been able to. Dracula would seethe and boil and surely return immediately to personally rip out Jonathan's arrogant tongue. And when the ex-Lord of the Undead showed up at his doorstep, Jonathan would shove his stiff cock down his throat and fill his vampire's stomach with something other than blood. Then he'd drag Dracula, kicking and screaming like a woman, into the searing sunlight until the undead flesh melted from his bones and he was nothing but ashes swirling in a brisk Transylvanian breeze. Finally, to relax and unwind after such traumatizing events, he'd go fuck his three brides for hours on end... along with any other beauties he'd collected by then. He would celebrate Dracula's long-overdue demise with lust and carnality the likes of which this land had never seen before. Yes... life would be good. A delicious aroma found its way into his nostrils. A young maiden... no more than twenty... twenty-five years old. Nearby, maybe a few miles. He could smell her young cunt. He could smell the sweat in her cleavage as she apparently performed some strenuous daily activity. He smiled. All thoughts of Dracula faded quickly. He turned in the direction of the intoxicating scent and began walking. If he ran, he could be there in no time at all. Down the mountain he loped, faster and faster, his huge member already pressing tightly against his britches. "I'm coming, my little flower," he laughed out loud as he ran, not the least bit winded, "I'm coming to make you explode with pleasure such as you've never known. And then... maybe we'll have your mother join in, too." He laughed heartily as he ran. And thus occurred the complete transformation of Jonathan Harker... from meek realtor to lust-driven Lord of Transylvania. Thus began the reign of Jonathan the First. Not with bloodletting and death... but with orgasms and pleasures unending... both for Lord Jonathan himself, and for his countless "victims". EPILOG: Jonathan did indeed send that scathing post to Dracula. And Dracula did indeed respond as predicted. The ensuing encounter was cataclysmic in its ferocity. But that's a tale for another time. Suffice it to say, Lord Jonathan still reigns supreme... and Dracula is no more. End "The True Ordeal of Jonathan Harker" copyright Bacomicfan/Mike May, 2002