ANNA MEETS COUNT DRACULA. BOOK 2- PART 18. AN EROTIC HORROR STORY BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©
“Why are you never here with me when I need you?” Anna sobbed, pounding her small fists furiously against the Count’s chest. “Why are you always away? Why do you neglect me so?” Count Dracula pushed her gently but firmly away from him and continued implacably to disrobe. It was the time when he habitually came to her to claim his rights as her Lord and Master.
“That’s right, ignore me!” said Anna, the rivulets of tears staining her flawless pale cheeks. “Why did you even bring me here to your castle in the woods, when all you do is ignore me while you go about your oh-so-secret business and hardly spend any time with me at all? You took me away from my family so that I could be your bride, a bride that never sees her husband because he is too busy to be a husband to her!”
Anna paused for breath, her snowy-white breasts heaving in the low-cut gown she wore, a velvet dress of midnight-blue that the Count found particularly becoming on her. The Count’s dark eyes narrowed at the mention of Anna’s family.
“Your family!” he sneered. “Do not talk to me of your family! Your brother Blaise amuses himself nightly with your cousins Athena and Abigail, when he is not paying common prostitutes for his pleasure, that is. And your mother, the estimable Lady Grace Carfax? She lies with your brother’s valet.” Anna stared at him, two spots of bright red colour standing out against the pallor of her face.
“My… My mother…?” she said, shocked beyond belief. “My mother and John Harker…? You surely jest! And my brother and my cousins? I don’t believe you!” The Count shrugged.
“Believe what you will,” he said. “But I would forget about your family if I were you. Forget them as they have most assuredly forgotten about you.” He shed the last of his clothing and stood before her, tall and strong, lean and handsome, his exceptional manhood ready as always for their sexual union.
He turned Anna around and unhooked her gown, easing it down over her swollen belly. Underneath the gown, Anna was naked. Her already full breasts had enlarged with pregnancy and her complexion had never looked more flawless nor her body more delectably luscious and ripe.
“They… They have forgotten me?” she whispered, tilting her head back so that she could look up into his eyes. They were so dark they appeared almost black sometimes. But when they glowed red as they did at the moment of his sexual climax, that was when she knew that he would bite down hard on her neck and send them both into transports of ecstasy such as Anna had never known in her life before.
“Forget them,” urged the Count, staring deep into her eyes and making her feel, as always, that he was hypnotizing her with the superior strength of his will. Anna succumbed immediately as she always did. Her will was no match for his. No-one’s was. He was too strong mentally, too powerful.
“Kneel before me, Anna,” he commanded then. “Your Master wishes to use your pretty mouth as a receptacle for his most precious life-giving fluid.” His eyes flashed with amusement as he spoke. Anna obeyed him straightaway. She lowered her pregnant bulk awkwardly to the floor till she was on her knees in front of him. She raised her huge, china-blue eyes to his handsome face.
“I love you, Master,” she said tremulously.
“And I love you,” he replied, placing his erect member between her ruby-red lips. Anna moaned happily and began to use her mouth and hands to give him pleasure as he had taught her to do. At the time, he had called her ‘a most apt pupil.’ Anna had been pleased beyond measure at his praise of her. Now, when he filled her mouth with his issue, Anna sighed gratefully and swallowed every mouthful, again as he had taught her to do.
“My pretty Anna,” murmured the Count as he lifted her up as easily as if she had been a doll and carried her to the bed. “We have hours ahead of us before we must sleep. Let us see, shall we, if we cannot put the time to good use…?”
TO BE CONTINUED HERE SOON…
This story is a work of fiction and comes (almost!) entirely from the imagination of Sandra Harris. Any resemblance to any persons living or un-dead is purely coincidental.
This story is copyrighted material and any reproduction without prior permission is illegal. Sandra Harris reserves the right to be identified as the author of this story.
Sandra Harris. ©
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based performance poet, novelist, film blogger, sex blogger and short story writer. She has given more than 200 performances of her comedy sex-and-relationship poems in different venues around Dublin, including The Irish Writers’ Centre, The International Bar, Toners’ Pub (Ireland’s Most Literary Pub), the Ha’penny Inn, Le Dernier Paradis at the Trinity Inn and The Strokestown Poetry Festival.
Her articles, short stories and poems have appeared in The Metro-Herald newspaper, Ireland’s Big Issues magazine, The Irish Daily Star, The Irish Daily Sun and The Boyne Berries literary journal. In August 2014, she won the ONE LOVELY BLOG award for her (lovely!) horror film review blog. She is addicted to buying books and has been known to bring home rain-washed tomes she finds on the street and give them a home.
She is the proud possessor of a pair of unfeasibly large bosoms. They have given her- and the people around her- infinite pleasure over the years. She adores the horror genre in all its forms and will swap you anything you like for Hammer Horror or JAWS memorabilia. She would also be a great person to chat to about the differences between the Director’s Cut and the Theatrical Cut of The Wicker Man. You can contact her at:
1) ‘… BY A WOMAN WALKING HER DOG…’
2) A WRITER’S JOURNEY
3) ANNA MEETS COUNT DRACULA
4) ANOTHER FIFTY REALLY RANDOM HORROR FILM REVIEWS TO DIE FOR…
5) CANCER BALLS
6) CATCH OF THE DAY
7) FIFTY FILTHY-DIRTY SEX-POEMS YOU MUST READ BEFORE I DIE.
8) FIFTY REALLY RANDOM HORROR FILM REVIEWS TO DIE FOR…
9) THE DEVIANTS
10) VISITING DAY