INTRODUCTION TO BOOK 5.
The year is 1891, and Count Dracula and his sex-and-spanking-crazed harem of beautiful handmaidens are still camped out in Dracula’s ancestral castle in Transylvania. Dracula’s brother Vladimir’s head currently adorns a spike on the castle battlements. His brother Nikolai’s head, while for the moment still attached to his shoulders, is filled with resentment for Dracula and a continuing desire to depose him as head of the family.
Dracula’s wife Anna and his mistress –– and cousin –– Carmilla are each jockeying for position as his Number One squeeze, and he has two newly-acquired sons he doesn’t have a clue what to do with.
Meanwhile, the genteel young ladies of the nearby Miss Peabody’s Exclusive Academy For The Education And Refinement Of The Daughters Of Gentlefolks are all still waiting impatiently for Dracula to fly through their bedroom windows at midnight, to endow upon them the sexual awakening of a lifetime and an introduction into Dracula’s twilight world of pleasure deliciously commingled with pain.
Add to this his demanding mother, his four sex-mad sisters, his temperamental nude handmaidens and a cartload or two of angry villagers, and you might just have an idea of why, for this year at least, Dracula’s dance-card is fully filled out…
This book, as all the ‘ANNA’ books are, is based on characters created by fellow Irish authors Bram Stoker and Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, and is dedicated with much love 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 rests…
FANGS AND FOREPLAY… THE EROTIC ADVENTURES OF DRACULA: THE TRANSYLVANIA YEARS. BOOK 5- PART 4.
AN EROTIC HORROR NOVEL BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©
Magdalena woke before it was light. Shivering in the pre-dawn chill, she sat up in bed, yawned and shook Leon by the shoulder. He grunted and turned away, too cosy and comfortable to want to bestir himself at this outrageous hour.
‘Come on, lazybones,’ she said, grinning. ‘You don’t want your old man to be coming in here and finding you in my bed, do you?’
‘Just another half hour, Mags,’ he mumbled. ”S not even light yet.’
‘Suit yourself, your lordship,’ she teased, getting out of bed and lighting the candle before tiredly pulling on the undergarments, skirt, blouse and little boots of the night before.
When she was dressed, she stood in front of the bit of mirror on the wall and pinned up her masses of long wavy brown hair as best she could with pins and combs. Leon loved her hair. He said it was wild and tawny-coloured, like a lion’s mane.
She went then to open the curtains at the room’s one window, only to remember with a shudder that it was still dark outside. She had an absolute horror of looking out her window while the night still held sway and seeing one of the deathly pale-faced occupants of the castle staring in at her greedily, with their long white fangs bared and ready to tear her soft white skin to pieces.
Not that she’d ever seen such a horrible sight with her own eyes, but there were those who had, and Magdalena prayed every morning and night that such would never be her own lot. Let that lazy lump Leon open the curtains at the little barred window when he got up, if he ever did. He’d really exerted himself last night, going to his usual lengths to satisfy Magdalena, whose sexual appetite was a positively voracious one.
Magdalena then quietly left her ground floor bedroom and went straight to the hostelry’s main bar, where she knew that, late last night, she had left some little jobs of tidying up and cleaning to be done in the morning. Well, now it was morning and it was time to pay the piper.
Every day when she started her shift, she promised herself that she would not finish and go to bed till the bar was spotless, and then she’d be free to sleep late in the morning. However, the road to hell being paved as it is with good intentions, every night when she clocked off she was so tired she could barely see straight and her chores were all left till the morning, as usual.
With a weary sigh, she turned to the cupboard where she kept her mop and bucket and cleaning cloths. She had just opened it when a hand was clamped down suddenly over her mouth from behind, a strong male hand, and Magdalena felt herself being lifted off the ground and carried in the direction of the inn’s underground cellar, where they kept the barrels of ale and bottles of wine and other beverages for the bar.
She struggled wildly but the hands that held her were too strong. Her captor’s booted foot kicked open the cellar door and then kicked it shut again behind them. Magdalena was set roughly on her feet but, disorientated, she stumbled and fell to the rough earthen floor. She scrambled to her feet, though, quick as a flash, and walloped her captor with all her strength across his face. Ivor, Leon’s father, slapped her straight back without hesitation.
‘You bastard!’ she cried, flying at him and pummelling at his broad chest in a fury. ‘You scared me half to death, you did. I thought you was the bloody vampire, come to get me!’
‘What would the vampire want with the likes of you, Maggie?’ Ivor said with a grin as he held her wrists fast to prevent any more blows being rained down on him. ‘You’re too much of a peasant for him. He likes ’em classy, high-born, with blue blood in their veins. That’s what he likes.’
‘He took Agnes, Old Amos the shepherd’s daughter, didn’t he, and I daresay her blood was the same colour as mine!’
‘You know you’re beautiful when you’re angry, Maggie?’ Ivor said, releasing her wrists and pulling her towards him for a long, passionate kiss on her parted lips.
Magdalena resisted at first, holding herself taut and rigid with tension, then with a long sigh she gave in and kissed him back with just as much passion and fire. She put up no resistance when he bent her forwards over one of the barrels and lifted her voluminous bronze-coloured skirts.
Next, her drawers, discarded so recently for Ivor’s son Leon, came down and Ivor’s cock, stiff and ready, pushed itself in between her parted thighs while his hands moved round to the front of her blouse to undo the buttons and free her magnificent big breasts. Her hair came tumbling loose from the pins and combs that confined it and the pins and combs fell unheeded to the cellar floor.
Magdalena moaned out loud as the thrusts started to come fast and hard, and Ivor put his hand over her mouth to keep her noise from disturbing Leon. Magdalena lived in dread of Leon’s ever finding out about her sordid little affair with his father, the inn-keeper. Living in such a small place together as the three of them did, she was surprised he hadn’t discovered her nasty secret already.
She felt bad about what she and Ivor were doing, but Magdalena was drawn to the security that Ivor, as the town’s inn-keeper, represented. He had promised her marriage and security for life if she would only choose him over Leon.
Ivor, a mature man of fifty-two, was only twenty-four years older than his son and was still an attractive enough man with all his own teeth and hair. That, and his tavern, were big draws for the orphaned Magdalena, who’d had to make her own way in the world from an early age.
Who knows, she often thought, maybe I’m attracted to him because I never had a proper father? I’m drawn to Ivor because he’s a father and the right age, with his own home and business, and he can take care of me for the rest of my life if he wants to, and it’s up to me to make sure that he wants to. But what about Leon? Where does he come into all this?
Magdalena loved Leon in a way in which she knew she could never love Ivor. Leon was handsome and loving and made her laugh and she loved him with all the passion of her woman’s heart. He would be devastated if he knew that she was sleeping with his father, of all the men in the world.
Ivor, of course, knew that she was sleeping with Leon and, while he couldn’t prevent it, exactly, seeing as how both parties were grown adults of nearly thirty, he made it clear every chance he got that he didn’t approve.
Leon was of the opinion that his father didn’t approve of his relationship with Magdalena because she was a humble barmaid and not good enough for his son. He had no idea that Ivor wanted the beautiful, passionate Magdalena for himself. Such a vile, low thing would simply never occur to him unless he were faced with incontrovertible proof.
‘I’m going to cum now, woman,’ grunted Ivor, ‘so you keep yourself nice and still now,’ and so Magdalena braced herself for the final volley of thrusts.
Afterwards, when her clothing was straightened and she’d scrabbled around on the cellar floor for her pins and combs, she said: ‘Don’t you be pawing me behind the bar or trying to get me on my own today. I don’t want your Leon getting suspicious.’
Ivor scowled. She knew full well what he thought of her relationship with his son, how jealous it made him, but there was nothing she could do about it for now. Magdalena flounced out of the cellar, doing up the buttons of her blouse as she went.
It was now light outside at last, and she unlocked and unbolted the front door and stood it open so she could sweep and scrub the step before the bar opened for the day. Those stinking garlic flowers would all have to come down too and be replaced before nightfall. They didn’t half reek. Wrinkling her nose at the foul stench, she fetched her broom and prepared to sweep the step prior to scrubbing it.
To her surprise, there was a letter on the step. A letter in a big creamy-white envelope. Magdalena picked it up and turned it over uneasily in her hands. It was addressed to ‘Mrs. & Mrs. Edward Wintergreen’ in a beautiful copperplate hand, and the seal on the back was the seal of the House of Dracula…
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY OF SANDRA HARRIS.
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, women’s 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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