valerie van ost chains


It is the year 1890 and Dracula and his sex-crazed entourage, having made the English village of Birney too hot to hold them, have decamped for safety to Dracula’s ancestral home in Transylvania, home to the Draculas since time immemorial.

Accompanying him are his beautiful pregnant wife Anna, their baby daughter Lucrezia and Anna’s faithful maidservant Valeria, all the nude handmaidens and chief amongst their number, the gorgeous Glamara. Igor, the Count’s loyal Gate-keeper, and Dracula’s wickedly bewitching Cousin Carmilla, who is now the Count’s captive, are also present.

Given that the crumbling castle in darkest Transylvania is already occupied by the Count’s parents and his siblings and all of their servants, as you can imagine it looks certain to be quite the crush. Buckle your seatbelts, dear readers and fellow vampire enthusiasts. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride…

This book, as all the ‘ANNA’ books are, is dedicated to the late Sir Christopher Lee, whose performances in the HAMMER ‘Dracula’ films inspired every word of it. May he rest in peace… until he rises once more from the crypt in which he lieth…



Dracula pondered the question of Darius’s paternity as he made his way to the dungeons in Castle Dracula and the tiny cell in which he was secreting Pamela, the pretty little would-be nurse (the only thing she’d be nursing from now on would be Dracula’s cock) from the town of Birney in England.

He’d brought her with him on the Twilight and had spent a very pleasant night with her recently, seducing her, depriving her permanently of her virginity and turning her, like him, into one of the living dead. She was a most delightful addition to his harem.

Dracula could tell that Anna was privately convinced that he was the father of Carmilla’s son, Darius. Why else would he be bringing Carmilla and Darius to live with them indefinitely? He could see his wife’s point, he really could.

But Anna was wrong. His interest in Darius was not paternal. He was not the boy’s father, but merely his uncle. The father was Dracula’s older brother, Vladimir, Carmilla’s one-time lover, the man she had once preferred to Dracula, crazy as that sounded. It was a long and complicated story, and one which Dracula usually preferred to keep to the back of his mind.

He unlocked the door to Pamela’s cell with one of the keys he kept perpetually about his person. She was as he’d left her, chained to the wall, her dress hanging about her in rags. Her head hung low on her bosom as she slumbered the uneasy sleep of the newly Un-Dead.

By Lucifer’s beard, she had the most magnificent breasts, he marvelled as he began to release her slender wrists from the chains that bound them to the wall. He had excellent taste, of course. All his women were shapely beauties. But this little nurse, she was certainly an especially juicy morsel.

Her eyes shot open as he fondled her bare breasts and bent his head to suck on her nipples. She made a snarling sound low in her throat that turned to a sensual purr when she realised who it was that caressed her. He led her to the narrow bed, the one piece of furniture in the room save for a single chair, and tore the rags from her luscious body. He laid her down, with his own much heavier body on top of her.

‘Master!’ she sighed as he bent his head to kiss her lips until she could taste blood in her mouth. ‘I was so afraid I’d dreamed you, and that you weren’t real. I’ve been in agony ever since that first night, wondering if I’d ever see you again. Are you really here? Are you real?’

‘I’m real all right,’ he said as he adjusted his linen and removed his erect appendage from his trousers. ‘And I have a job for you, my little nursie from Birney, a very important job, in fact. It will please your Master greatly if you do it well. But for now, little nursie, your Master desires your pretty little pussy, for no other reason than that it exists.’

He plunged his cock deep inside her, making her cry out in ecstasy. He thrust in and out of her rhythmically while she shuddered and thrashed from side to side beneath him. Her long hair fanned out beautifully behind her on the pillow and a trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her red mouth. He licked the blood off with relish and laughed.

‘How many amorous doctors would have had their way with an enchanting little wench like you,’ he wondered aloud, ‘if we hadn’t met and you’d gone to your little nursie training hospital in London instead of coming here with me? This hot, grasping little pussy of yours would have been thoroughly poked, I daresay, and many times over as well. What a pretty little whore it is, indeed. And such a pretty cunt too. Made to hold many, many cocks but, for now, just mine own.’

She laughed too and he could see her new little fangs, white and sharp and lethal-looking, like a barbed wire fence across a shark’s mouth. She brought them perilously close to his neck, as if she would dare to bite him, the master of them all. He slapped her hard across the face, tut-tutting mildly all the while.

‘Bad Pamela! Naughty Pamela! Tsk tsk. You mustn’t try to bite Master, or Master will have to punish Pamela.’

‘Oh, hurt me, Master, hurt me, please!’ she begged him now.

Never one to refuse a lady anything, the Count withdrew his erect member from her tight little lady-parts and expertly flipped her onto her belly with an ease born of much practice. He spread apart her buttocks and pushed his dripping cock into the dark little opening he found there. She screamed as he roughly entered her and slipped his hands beneath her body to squeeze her breasts cruelly.

‘Oh Master, it hurts so much!’ she cried out as she wriggled and squirmed beneath him.

‘Want me to stop, slut?’

‘Oh no, Master, don’t stop, don’t ever stop! I love it when you hurt me!’

‘That’s what I thought,’ he grinned as his climax began to take him over. When he could feel his issue being expelled from his body and into hers, he bit down hard on Pamela’s unprotected white neck, so hard that she screamed. That’ll teach the bitch to try to bite me, he thought grimly, hearing her anguished cries with satisfaction. How dared she even think it? He should horsewhip the devil out of her for thinking such a wicked blasphemy.

Afterwards, he sat in the chair beside the bed, smoking a cigarette, just looking at her while the little she-devil slumbered fitfully. When his cigarette was finished, he raised his foot and poked her in the side with it none too gently. She groaned tiredly and he poked her again, harder this time.

‘Get up,’ he said. ‘We’re going visiting.’

‘We?’ she said eagerly. ‘Am I coming with you?’

‘My dear, you’re the star attraction. I shouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.’

The vampire woman’s eyes gleamed. Playtime! And with the Master too. Goody goody gumdrops. Whatever the task her Master had in mind for her, she was going to enjoy this.


Sandra Harris is a Dublin-based novelist, poet, short story writer and film and book blogger. She has studied Creative Writing and Film-Making. She has published a number of e-books on the following topics: horror film reviews, multi-genre film reviews, womens’ fiction, erotic fiction, erotic horror fiction and erotic poetry. Several new books are currently in the pipeline. You can browse or buy any of Sandra’s books by following the link below straight to her Amazon Author Page:

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ANNA 3I have brilliant news for fans of my ongoing sexy Victorian vampire serial, ANNA MEETS COUNT DRACULA. Book 2 is out now under its new name of FANGS AND FOREPLAY… THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF DRACULA!

Also, Book 3 will be starting here soon in serial form so I hope anyone who likes the story will hop on board once more and ride the choo-choo train back to Victorian London and the sauciest, sexiest, spankiest, whippiest shenanigans you could possibly imagine…! What’s the second book all about? Read on and find out, you naughty, naughty people…!

So, has the horny-as-hell Count Dracula settled down and mended his lecherous ways now that he’s a baby-daddy-to-be…? You’d better believe he hasn’t! If anything, he’s hornier than ever. Join him as he bed-hops his way around Victorian London, giving serving wenches and duchesses alike the benefit of his extraordinary- ahem!- ‘swordsmanship.’ Heaving bosoms, thrashed buttocks and stiff members abound in this wickedly saucy sex-and-spanking romp from the mistress of horror erotica herself, Sandra Harris.

Here’s the link!*Version*=1&*entries*=0

And here’s my Author Page on Amazon Central, the book is also available there along with all my other books!

Drop me an email if you have any problems on: