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 beautiful wife Anna and his demanding 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 domineering 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 16.
AN EROTIC HORROR NOVEL BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©
Dracula shut the door to his mother’s bedchamber firmly behind him, then he doubled over in laughter in the silent corridor outside. It had been his own wicked idea to re-unite the Karsch sisters, Lysette and Eveline, with their vampirised father, Bruno the professor of history, literature and philosophy, and present them both to his mother Ursula as a gift. And what a divinely wicked idea it had been!
Surprised to find that it had been his own dear mother who had ‘killed’ Professor Bruno Karsch some years ago, merely yards from his own doorstep as he hurried home through the woods after a lesson late at night, the Count had made discreet inquiries amongst his mother’s servants and discovered that she had ‘kept’ Herr Bruno as a little plaything for herself, instead of simply discarding him after drinking his blood.
After his burial in the little cemetery in the mountains (the superstitious locals had slipped up in neglecting to stake him through the heart and secure him forever to the ground in which he lay), he had simply risen again that night in answer to her primeval call and come to live with her in Castle Dracula.
It apparently gave Ursula great pleasure to summon him from his quarters every now and then when she felt the need for a little intellectual stimulation, in addition, of course, to having her carnal desires more than adequately satisfied by him also. The Count had learned all he needed to know at this point; he had no desire to hear how adept the Professor was at pleasing his, Dracula’s, mother between the sheets.
Dracula’s relationship with his mother’s sexuality was a complicated one. On the one hand, he was happy that his mother was a strong, confident member of the Dracula family, a woman capable of taking what she wanted when she wanted it.
On the other hand, she was his own dear Mumsie, and what man wanted to think of his mother as a sexual being, a woman in the arms of a man, both giving and receiving sexual pleasure? Frankly, Dracula preferred not to think about it if he could at all avoid it.
It had greatly pleased his own innate sense of mischief, however, to present the beautiful Karsch sisters to his mother, knowing that she would cause them to reconcile in grotesque fashion with the father they’d presumed dead these last few years.
How dreadful for all three of them to discover that they would never be free to follow their own paths again, and also to find that their once happy little family was now nothing more than a pitiful trio of creatures of the night and sexual playthings for Ursula Dracula, mother to the original Prince of Darkness!
Wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, Dracula straightened up and went on his way, wondering as he did so if Ursula would make the newly-vampirised Karsch sisters engage in acts of a perverted sexual nature with their vampire father. Oh, it was just too twisted, and what he wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall there! He laughed again as he mounted the staircase.
Now he had a choice. At this juncture, he could go left down this corridor, or he could go right, down that one. Left would take him to Anna’s bedchamber. His once-human wife had recently presented him with his first ever legitimate heir, a bouncing baby boy called Vlad Dracula whose adorably tiny fangs were only just beginning to come through. Dracula was pleased with Anna for her gift of a son, even though he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive her fully for her adulterous affair with Darius while she was pregnant.
‘It only happened once, it was not an affair!’ she’d told him tearfully a thousand times, but it made no odds to Dracula. Whether she had lain with the handsome Darius once or ten times or even ten thousand times, the betrayal, which had cut him like a knife, was as painful either which way.
Turning right down another darkened corridor would bring him to the bedchamber of Carmilla, his childhood sweetheart, his mistress, his greatest love and now the mother of his adult son Darius as well.
Finding out that Darius was his son and not the child of his older brother Vlad, now deceased, had been a shock to Dracula, so much so that he still hadn’t found a proper use for the charismatic and charming young man who looked so much like him.
Perhaps time would tell where the boy’s talents lay, although thus far his only talent seemed to be love-making. A chip off the old block, seemingly, but Dracula would have minded it less if the lad hadn’t directed all his energies since coming to Castle Dracula towards seducing Dracula’s wife, Anna, and Dracula’s younger sisters, the four highly-sexed minxes known as Salome, Schira, Samara and Sabine.
Ah well. Of such problematic occurrences was life made up. He fiddled about now in his trouser pocket for a coin. Heads he would go left, to Anna. Tails, right, to Carmilla. He enjoyed their company equally, although they gave him equal grief over his choice of bed-mate.
‘Why did you go to her first?’ Anna would say to him if he came to her after being with Carmilla. ‘What am I to you then, second choice?’ Carmilla would say to him if he arrived at her bedchamber after having been with Anna. A man with two wives was two times a loser, and could never win regardless of which way he jumped.
Heads won. Left it would be then, and Anna. He longed for the softness of her yielding white body, made even more beautiful now after two pregnancies and births. Though he knew she fretted about losing her figure, he thought her more perfect than ever after what her body had been through.
He liked tracing the course of the silvery markings she called ‘stretch-marks’ across her breasts, her belly and her upper thighs with his fingers or tongue, and laughing softly at her when, embarrassed by her new shape, she tried to pull his hands away and distract him from those parts of her. He arrived at her door now, opened it, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
She was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed clad only in the filmiest of sheer night-shifts, her long blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and virtually bare breasts. By the heavens, she was more beautiful than ever tonight! His manhood throbbed at the sight of her, and at the thought of what he would do to her before dawn showed her insolent face and the cock crowed once more.
‘So, you go to her first and make me second-best, I see!’ she snapped at him when she saw him.
Dracula sighed and began to disrobe.
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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