Countess Cocula (Yenpointfive & AmiralRouge)

Y

Yenpointfive

Supernova
Joined
Feb 2, 2009
Once Johnathan swung the heavy oak and iron door shut behind him he placed his back against the cold stone of the wall and let out a sigh. He hadn't understood why the man he'd paid to take him up here had been so adamant that he'd be turning his carriage around shortly before sundown, Johnathan had rather assumed that the man had seen a stranger appear in town and decided that this would be a perfect chance to charge triple his usual rate. It wasn't until the sun was almost down and the wolves had started to howl that Johnathan had realized that he really should have waited until the next morning to ride to the castle. Still, he'd made it here in one piece and had somehow managed to keep his bag with him in his haste. It would have been a wasted trip if he'd lost the documents that the countess would need to facilitate her relocation to London.

Johnathan pushed away from the wall as another howl split the air, prompting a wry smile to form on the man's face as he imagined the wolve's disappointment at being denied their meal. He was just grateful that the countess had been kind enough to instruct him to let himself in when he reached her home. The letter had suggested she preferred to do business in the evenings so he wasn't entirely certain he'd find her up yet and he certainly wasn't going to go searching the castle for a lady's bedchambers. Mina wouldn't enjoy hearing about that in his letters, that much was certain. Of course, posting said letters was going to be more difficult now. He'd sent one off when he arrived in town to let her know that he'd arrived safely but if correspondence necessitated braving wolves and skittish carriage drivers he'd probably be better off waiting and sending her another letter as he began his return journey.

He removed his coat and found a spot for it near the door before proceeding into the building, helping himself to a candlestick that happened to be at hand and showing himself around. The scent of food caught his attention and he turned his feet to follow. Surely he was expected and he presumed that the countess wouldn't be far off if dinner was being served. A flickering fire in the dining room's fireplace, along with a multitude of candles illuminated the room. He approached the table but was loath to sit until he'd found his hostess.
 
As Jonathan waited, hot steam and enticing aromas wafted from the food upon the table: freshly cooked meat and vegetables, warm bread, honey, butter, and wine all lay temptingly before him, and the sight and scents of it all served only to remind him how long it had been since he'd had a truly good meal. The journey from England to the Carpathian mountains had been a long one, and even though the taverns he'd stayed in had—on occasion—served good food, in memory they simply gelled into one mediocre meal, always in uneasy company and cramped surroundings. The castle may not have been in magnificent repair, but still it was spacious and warmed by an open fire, and the meal was more reminiscent of Mina's home cooking than of some tavern stew.

Gratefully, he did not have long to wait before the countess made her presence known. Silently she ghosted down the stairs, her attire all lace and gossamer, and as black as the night sky. Her hair, too, was black; her lips a rich, blood red upon blanched, snow-white skin. She wore a long dress whose tails skirted the floor, and whose bodice clung tightly to gently curving hips, and full breasts. Her nails were long and pointed, painted red, and if she wore footwear at all they were hidden beneath the reach of her dress. When she spoke, her presence took him by surprise; one moment he had been waiting on her, the next she was slipping past him and into view, a polite, if mysterious smile on her blood red lips.

"The food will not stay warm for long," she said, her voice intoned with the deep, sultry accent of Transylvania. As she spoke, the countess slid around the table and faced Jonathan across the steaming plates, before settling into a high-backed armchair and crossing one leg over the other. "Sit. Eat. I am Countess Cocula; you must be Mr. Harker, no?"

[img=500x300]http://i.imgur.com/RhAsJmm.jpg[/img]
 
He'd been starring. How long he wasn't sure. Presumably it hadn't been that long, but he'd been at a loss for words from the moment that she appeared on the stairs until she spoke and broke the spell. The countess was not what he'd been expecting, not in the slightest. He'd never thought to ask her age but he had always imagined an older woman eager to dispense with the drafty castle she dwelt in and spend her remaining few good years in the comfort of London, perhaps finding herself a husband to take care of her in her old age. He knew she wasn't married as that did pertain to the purchase since her husband would no doubt have a share in her new home if she had been.

He wondered about her pale skin but would chock it up to a lack of sunlight due to her seeming nocturnal nature. He sat as she commanded, and would have begun to eat, as she commanded, if not for the fact that she had further questions for him. Jonathan slipped his bag gently beneath the table to get it out of the way and returned his gaze to her dark eyes. "Indeed I am. It's such a pleasure to meet you and I can't thank you enough for your hospitality. I might have had lunch in the village if not for the carriage driver's insistence that we leave immediately if we were to leave at all tonight. He even insisted on dropping me off several miles from your home if you can believe such a thing." He told her. Events that had seemed worrying at the time seemed almost laughable in retrospect. Good food and good company did such things to sooth the soul.

Jonathan filled his plate and his glass and then sought about fulfilling her second request. The food was even better than it had looked, especially after the journey. "Once you've settled in London you really must allow Mina and myself to return this hospitality." He told her as he ate.
 
"Yes, the locals here are strange in their ways," the countess replied, laughing softly at Jonathan's recounting of his incomplete voyage to the old castle. "This is but one of the reasons I seek to leave Transylvania..."

She smiled as Jonathan ate, seemingly glad to see him enjoying her food and hospitality, though she ate little herself. In fact, she seemed to toy more with her food than eat it, though she did help herself to a little wine. Despite her hospitality, there was something curiously distant about the countess, too. At first she seemed to observe her guest more than engage him, as though she were not used to visitors. Certainly this would be understandable if all the cab drivers in the locality refused to deliver guests to the door. The Carpathians did not make for a welcoming stroll beyond sundown.

The mention of London and Mina seemed to pique her interests, though. By letter she had expressed a great interest in moving to the English capitol, and it would have been easy for Jonathan to assume that she was eager to push on with discussion pertaining to her relocation. It was, however, Mina that she first inquired about.

"That would be my pleasure," she replied, bowing her head slightly. "This... Mina... She is your wife?"
 
That was putting it mildly in Johnathan's opinion, though he didn't say so. Truth be told, she was a rather strange one herself. There was something about her that was both alluring and intimidating. He noticed that she was picking at her food and only sipping at the wine, though he didn't feel the need to comment. He imagined that the spread before them was for his benefit more than her own, that perhaps she had already sated her hunger earlier and was here merely for hospitality and for his company.

Johnathan was certain that he'd already mentioned Mina to her before. He'd originally been slightly reluctant to come in person and he was fairly sure he'd mentioned his habit of writing her every couple of days when he couldn't be with her. Still, he didn't want to seem distant and if he was going to be here for a day or two he might as well get to know something of his host, if it was his turn to share first he saw no problem with that. Besides, thinking of Mina put a quick smile on his face.

"Yes." He replied with a smile. "Though it is actually only a recent occurrence that I can say so. We'd been engaged long enough that I think I might have had cause to fear for my life if I forestalled the wedding any longer." He told her, clearly joking, though Mina had been making it clear for some time that she wasn't interested in being 'the soon to be Mrs. Harker' any longer. "Sometimes I can get a little carried away with my work but Mina was always good at taking my mind off of it." He said, gently rotating his wedding band around its finger using his thumb as he thought of his wife. "And what of you, countess? There are a great many men in London and I imagine you might be able to find one as distinguished as yourself." He suggested. It did seem a shame that someone so lovely was alone. It probably hadn't been his place to suggest something like that though. He took a sip of his wine to end the thought as he waited to see if that question would earn him an answer.
 
The countess smiled at his joke, though she didn't laugh. She took notice of his fidgeting with his wedding band—paying little attention to the food, she was free to scrutinise her guest, and made no qualms about doing so—and for a moment she seemed to fall into thought. She had been married once, but that had been a lifetime ago... Still she was sometimes stricken with a strange sensation, one she used to call loneliness, but now... well, now such words had little meaning to her.

Mina sounded like a good woman, though, if the countess could put herself in Jonathan's shoes for a minute. She must be young, too; supple of skin, and warm of flesh. She might have to take young Mr. Harker up on his offer of having her over for dinner, or at least visit them some night.

Withdrawing from her thoughts, the countess rain one long-nailed finger about the rim of her glass before replying to his most recent inquiry. There had been a time when she had been sought after by many a man, but it had been decades since she'd made herself known around the locality, not that anyone who looked upon her would believe that such a thing was possible; the countess looked as though she could be as young as twenty, and certainly no older than a remarkably youthful forty.

"Might I?" she asked with a curious smile, which for the first time showed a hint of humour. "My taste in men is... not so important as my need for a secure home. A woman must have her priorities. Speaking of which, you must be quite tired from your journey; I am assuming we shall save our business for tomorrow night? Or do you want to stay up all night with me?"

The countess was not the easiest woman to read, but the smile she left Jonathan with was definitely infused with some amount of flirtation; whether it was just playful humour or something more, however, was difficult to tell.
 
"I imagine." Johnathan repeated. He certainly wasn't going to claim any certainty on that point, largely because he wasn't certain just how distinguished she actually was. She'd seemed to think nothing of sending him the funds to pay for the first portion of his journey and judging by her home he was guessing she was quite wealthy indeed.

He gave the beginnings of a nod when she suggested that they might start tomorrow but before he could speak on the matter his words caught in his mouth. His tongue felt numb. For just a second a little smile crossed Johnathan's face before he forced it away, along with whatever words might have followed it. His wedding band felt heavy but the weight was a comforting one. She was a client and he was a married man, flirting, even the harmless sort, wouldn't have been appropriate. Fortunately he could take refuge in the easiest of excuses.

"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me if I turn in a little early tonight. As you've said, I am quite tired." He told her. It was the truth but even as he spoke it some minor spark of boyish libido reminded him that he could have stayed up a great many more hours if it was for the right reason. He wished, in that moment, that he'd brought Mina with him. That would have been so much more pleasant than retiring to his bed alone, which was exactly what he intended to do.

Johnathan stood, lifting the napkin from his lap and placing it back on the table before looking to his hostess. "Thank you for a lovely meal and for your gracious hospitality." He told her as he picked his bag back up. "If you'd be so kind as to tell me where I might find my lodgings I'll get the documents in order before I rest so that you and I can tend to them the first thing tomorrow..." He'd been about to say morning but since she'd already informed him as to her sleep habits there was merely a pause before he finished. "Evening."
 
"Of course, Mr. Harker."

The countess retained her dignified manner with a stiff, polite bow of her head, leaving Jonathan none the wiser as to what staying up all night with her might or might not have entailed. She was, however, more than a little aware of her own charm, and assumed that Mrs. Mina Harker must be quite a woman to elicit such a ready response from her husband. The young woman was quickly becoming the latest point of interest in the countess' imminent move to English soil.

"Please," she continued, standing upright. "Follow me."

Moving with a silent, elegant grace, she lead Jonathan away from the dining room and into the large, high-ceilinged hallway. Her feet made no sound against the stone steps as the pair made their way upstairs, the countess' hips swaying gently before Jonathan's eyes, providing one final seduction before their time together was up for the night. Beyond the dining room the castle was cold and airy, but a fire stood burning in the hearth of the room that she led him to. It was a spacious room, with a broad, four-poster bed clad in silk sheets facing the open fire on the far side of the room, and a four-panelled window looked out into the night, where the dense forest stood shrouded in darkness, only dimly illuminated by the light of the moon.

"Sleep well, Mr. Harker," spoke the countess, bowing slightly again as she bid him goodnight. "Until the morrow..."
 
He had always expected her to lead him to his room, it was probably for the best. The castle was large and he didn't relish the idea of getting lost in it. He followed her to his lodgings and he would have liked to believe that he didn't spend much time focusing on her hips, or any of her other curves, though he might have starred a bit longer than he should have as he tried to work out how her feet were so quiet on the floors. She could have been barefoot, he supposed, but the floors would have been uncomfortably cold in the spots far from the fire so that seemed unlikely.

The room was cozier than he'd expected, the fire seeming to warm it right up and the bed looked soft as a dream. "Goodnight, Countess Cocula." The name rolled off his tongue, a truly decadent set of syllables that he dare not indulge in too often. He excused himself to his room. As the door shut he whispered 'Mina' once again. It was shorter to be certain but it was a sweeter name by his reckoning, one he hoped to use again very soon.

He didn't remain awake much longer, doing just as he'd said and ordering the documents for tomorrow. It was a trifling task, seeing as he'd done most of the work already on his journey here. He also took the time to begin a letter to Mina, speaking of the remarkable new acquaintance he'd made, one that he'd introduce her to when they were all back in London. When his head grew heavier and the candle that provided his light grew shorter he changed out of his shirt and trousers and climbed into the bed, watching the dying embers of the fire as he drifted off to sleep.
 
Those hot embers continued to smoulder for some time after Jonathan fell asleep, and the warmth they imbued into the room combined with the comfort of the bed beneath him to lull the travelling solicitor into a deep sleep. It was, in some small manner, the perfect reward after such a long journey from the shores of England to the heart of the Carpathian mountains. Transylvania was not the most welcoming of places to strangers, but evidently the beds in the countess' castle were of another ilk altogether. In fact, were it not for the vividness of his dreams—dreams so vivid they might well have been real—it would have been the best night's sleep Jonathan had had in months.

In the depths of that peaceful slumber, though, he was visited by frighteningly fantastic visions. It was not Mina who came to him in those visions, but his host for this night and those to come, the Countess Cocula. Through the haze of sleep she came to him and stood over his bed, gazing down on him with eyes deep, dark, and impenetrable. Her lips seemed brighter than before, and when she leaned over to kiss him, he felt the startling cold of her hands upon his flesh, and—as she drew back the sheets from his body—the kiss of lace upon his breast.

The dream didn't end there, however. Through that same haze he witnessed the countess draw back and smile, and let her dress slip loose from her body. It hit the ground without a sound, and the sensual, feminine landscape of her pale flesh was bared before him. Her hair fell in dark curls to her shoulders, which in turn gave way to slender arms and a pair of full, round breasts, topped with stiff nipples. Her sides curved gracefully inwards above her hips, and between her thighs she was perfectly hairless. Taking his hand in hers, she led his fingers between her thighs to feel the moisture of her wet lips, and here the dream took a turn for the bizarre.

The countess stood over him, biting her lip and moaning in a manner most seductive as she led Jonathan's fingers to pleasure her. Her moist lips parted of their own accord, and from betwixt them slid forth a smooth, stiff phallus, which continued to grow and throb in his hand. His host gazed down into his eyes with a most bewitching look—it seemed so easy to become lost in her gaze—and before he could look away, the countess placed one hand behind his head and guided his lips onto her throbbing cock. Again she moaned, her eyes falling shut as she slowly and sensually thrust her hips, and penetrated his mouth, and he felt her long nails gently scrape against his scalp as she curled her fingers through his hair. The taste of her cock was not dissimilar to the taste of Mina's vagina, and when the countess at last pulled herself out of his mouth and fixed her guest once more with her bewitching gaze, she leaned in close to whisper: think of Mina. What happened next, though, was nothing that Jonathan could ever associate with Mina—at least not until this night.

Turning him onto his stomach, the countess mounted him from behind, and again he felt the kiss of her cold flesh—cold but for the stiff, pulsating shaft that stood erect between her thighs. Jonathan felt its warmth as she pressed it between his virgin cheeks, its slickness easing her entry as his anus stretched around the girth of her cock, and with a pleasured groan as she sank inside him.

"Mmmm, Minaaaa...." she sighed, pressing deeper still within her guest, and then she was riding him, taking him, fucking his ass with her feminine phallus. Her fingers curled through his hair once again, turning his head to one side so that she could gaze into his eyes as she fucked him. Her thrusts were smooth and sensual, but deep, and her breasts heaved as her breath grew heavier and heavier. At length she groaned loudly, pressed his face into the pillows and bit down on his neck, thrusting herself hard and deep inside him one last time. Her cock spasmed, filling him with her seed, and from there the dream seemed to unravel and recede back into the darkness of slumber. Come morning, there was no sign that the countess had been anywhere near his room.
 
Upon waking Jonathan would come to hate the haze that filled his mind. Dreams, he thought, should not make the mind feel more tired by thinking about them. He remembered the Countess Cocula in his room, he remembered her icy touch and a deep sense of guilt. Surely the guilt came after the dream. One never feels guilty during the dream itself, at least that was what he thought before today.

Mina was quite the artful lover and Jonathan's fingers were far more skilled than most, right up until a pressure pushed them away from her folds and filled his hand with a throbbing thickness to belittle his own manhood. He remembered feeling disgusted. Not with her. With himself. When she looked him in the eyes he wanted to please her and he was happy for the hand on the back of his head showing him the way to do so. His tongue was nimble, not skilled for this particular task, but eager, so very eager.

Then came the confusion, the revulsion. Think of Mina? Just thinking of what he'd done made his head swim, how could Mina forgive him for such a thing?

He still didn't understand when he was turned over onto his stomach. Ohh, he knew what came next, but not what it had to do with Mina. Not until she slipped inside of him. He whimpered pitifully as she used his body but the whimpers turned to moans soon enough and then he heard her voice in his ear. Mina, she'd called him. And then he understood. He'd taken Mina from behind before and it didn't take him long to replicate the movement of her hips, thrusting his rear back gently against her as his wife had done for him. Before he knew it he was pinned down against the pillows, her teeth sinking into his flesh, her seed filling him, and his own sperm coating the bed, needing no more provocation to do so than her cock inside of him.

The dream stuck with him throughout the early part of the day, though it grew less distinct as time went on. In some senses this was a good thing, though in others it made things worse, as he started to question whether there had really been a hand on his head making him pleasure her or whether she'd actually needed to turn him over (he very well might have turned himself over so she could take him)

Jonathan pushed the thoughts of the dream from his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time, picked up his papers, and returned to the dining room downstairs. he'd finished another letter to Mina this morning, deciding quite naturally to leave out any mention of the dream, and that was tucked in with his belongings. He meant to send it off along with the papers they'd draw up this evening. Part of him dreaded seeing Countess Cocula, part of him cursed the fact that he had to wait till the evening to see her. All of him wished he'd stayed home with Mina.
 
The sun had set once again by the time the countess appeared, and apparently whoever prepared the meals in the castle had waited until Jonathan took a walk upon the parapets to opportunistically sneak food out onto the tables. Since arriving here, the man had yet to see anyone other than his alluring, pale-skinned hostess.

"Mr. Harker," she spoke, greeting him quite warmly as she appeared in the doorway. Again she was dressed all in black, though this evening her bodice was slashed with deep reds silks, and her dress did not quite come all the way to the floor. Beneath its skirts, two dainty feet could be seen clad in black, fishnet stockings, the tops of which lay somewhere beneath her clothing. "I hope you have not grown impatient. I trust you slept well?"

As she spoke, she gestured politely for him to take a seat at the dining table once again. This evening's meal was not quite as plentiful as that of the previous evening, but there was still more than enough food to sate the appetite of one man. There was bread, honey, butter, and wine as before, but also a warm meat stew, made with peas and carrots, and topped with a pastry shell.
 
This time she came as less of a surprise when she appeared in the doorway. Try as he might he still couldn't prevent himself from noticing that she was wearing less clothing than before. Just a shortening of the dress, but he still noticed it. His mind flashed to the dream and he quickly answered her. "Truth be told my dreams left something to be desired." He answered, though what else could be desired from such a dream he couldn't say.

He sat quickly, happy to have a table between himself and her again and to have a chance to fill his stomach. He grew curious about the chef but neglected to ask. "Today I thought we'd fill out the bits of our documentation that can be delivered by post. You'll naturally want to move your considerable wealth to a bank in London and so we can simply create an account for you and request that the bank purchase the deed to the home you intend to buy, then claiming both will be a simple matter of delivering the funds to the account. The bank will, naturally, be happy to go above and beyond for such a lucrative client and this makes our work much simpler." He explained, taking refuge in his work.

Jonathan cracked a smile as he spoke to her. It seemed silly to be frightful of her, especially over some ludicrous notion that she might be sporting a penis in addition to the rest of her anatomy and might have slipped into his room last night to make use of it. As the warmth of the stew spread through him he did his best to push such thoughts from his mind and was met with at least reasonable success.
 
His proposals, too, were successfully met. The countess seemed eager to move the documents through as quickly as possible, and informed Jonathan that a messenger would arrive at the castle at noon tomorrow to take away any post which was to be delivered. As the meal drew to a close, she even exchanged her side of the table for his, so that she could get a closer look at the documents in question.

Sitting by his left shoulder, the countess again crossed one leg over the other. Placing her left elbow upon the edge of the table, she leaned her head on her hand as she inspected the documents, and in doing so just so happened to give Jonathan a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage; the bodice she wore hugged her figure tightly, pushing breasts up and together, though she certainly made no motion to suggest that her choice of clothing bore any ulterior motive. From time to time she inquired as to what one detail or the other meant or implied, and then again she would sit back and sip from her glass.

"More wine, Mr. Harker?" she inquired, when all of the banking details had been put in order. And then: "the estates... there are more than one?"

In their earlier communications the countess had expressed an interest in one particular estate more so than the others, but now she seemed to reconsider. She requested a list of those estates which Jonathan had originally suggested, along with descriptions of their surrounding areas. She seemed particularly interested in those estates closest to Mr. Harker's own residence, owing—as she put it—to him being able to provide a more accurate account of the surrounding area.
 
Jonathan wasn't sure why he paused when she switched seats. Well, he knew why, it had been that dream of his. Suddenly he wished that they'd kept the table between them, for the sake of propriety. He would have loved to say that he disliked the way she leaned over to inspect his work but each time he looked back to his client he was treated to a spectacular view. Just once he let his imagination wander a bit and allowed his eyes to trail a little bit lower on her body, down to her lap. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to see, some confirmation of the madness his dream had included or some undeniable proof that it had all been in his head. Either way, one look was enough as he was sure that she'd seen him glance down and he was of no mind to explain what he'd been looking for.

The her offer of wine caught him a little off guard. For a brief bit he'd allowed his mind to slip into business, taking refuge from the other thoughts that plagued him. It was at about this point that he started to realize that the way she was sitting, slightly back and leaning forward to look at his documents, rather boxed him in on one side. The offer also seemed less innocent than he would have liked to imagine. If this had been a dream he'd happily accept another glass from the Countess but Jonathan thought better of it this time. "No thank you. We've got rather a lot of work still and I'd hate to make a mess of it." He said politely, giving her a little smile as he silently hoped that'd be enough to dissuade her hospitality.

"Yes, there were several more that met your requirements, not as elegant as the one we'd settled on but all of them well kept and in pleasant locations." He answered. Her more specific requests were all met in turn, he ended up drawing her a crude little map of London to show her about where each of the residences were. His own residence remained unmarked, though one would have gotten a pretty good idea where it was through the general course of the conversation. "I can draft up documentation if you wish to purchase multiple estates, though I don't imagine I'll have all of the paperwork done by the time the post comes tomorrow." He told her. He couldn't imagine why she'd want several estates so close together but he was eager to finish this up and return to his room. The longer the conversation went on the more he found it hard not to think about his dream, and the more that that happened the more he felt a stirring in his trousers. She'd had him trapped like this once before, he remembered, and she'd certainly made a wonderful use of her time then.

He scooted a little bit closer to the table, both to keep him from glancing over at her and inadvertently catching the view and to keep her from noticing what his intrusive thoughts were doing to him. He just wanted to get back up to his room so he could finish up this paperwork quickly and return to Mina.
 
At length the countess decided on just the one estate: it seemed she had never held the intention of making multiple purchases, but simply wanted a better idea of the kind of community she'd be buying—and moving—into. She also seemed quite pleased with the crude little map that Jonathan drew up, playfully remarking that he was clearly a man of many talents. Was that more flirtation? Or just her way of speaking? She had a manner of speaking that was almost seductive by nature; she could have asked where the marmalade was, and it would have seemed a come-on.

The estate that was chosen in the end was not the more elegant one settled upon earlier, but also not the one in most need of repair. It was—at least by the countess' silent guess—the one closest to the Harker's home. Still she could not picture this Mina, though she felt certain that if she could just get inside Jonathan's head, an image of her would be revealed; until then, her curiosity would linger.

She stood when their business was done, graciously bowed her head, and thanked Jonathan for his time and assistance. She seemed quietly pleased with how speedily everything had been resolved, and assured him that she was greatly looking forward to her move to England.

"I am sure this transaction shall prove lucrative for us both," she intoned in her sultry, accented voice. "I shall not keep you any longer, though I regret that our messenger shall not arrive until noon. I hope you shall not mind if you have to remain one more night in these modest surroundings. I am sure you eager to return to London. Your wife must wish to see you."
 
It was hard to ever calm himself down completely while speaking to the Countess. The words rolled off the tongue and he would have delighted in their flirtatious tone if not for the fact that he was a married man and... He hesitated to think of it in such terms but she did rather scare him. She had the most efficient way of making a man feel cornered and the maddening pert was that he almost craved the attention even though (or possible because) it scared him.

He was surprised by her choice, especially because it seemed to lack much of what they'd discussed earlier, but Jonathan didn't press the point, he was eager not to spend the added time here that the purchase of multiple dwellings would cause. Still, he found it a little strange that she'd picked the one he could describe most clearly even if his description might not be as nice as the other homes. The only reason he remembered it in such detail was that he had passed it so often.

"It's been a pleasure. I think that I shall see if I can convince the driver of the post carriage to return me to town tomorrow so that I might return home and see my Mina. I'll send the documents ahead, of course, so that you'll be able to pick up the key to your new lodgings at the bank when you make your first deposit there." He said, inhaling softly before he stood.

Once again he felt like the rabbit under the wolf's gaze, only he'd quit holding perfectly still and decided to run for it. He looked to the countess and gave her another smile. "I'll show myself to my rooms and begin addressing some envelopes." He explained as he took a step backward from her without letting his gaze leave her. "I appreciate your hospitality and I look forward to seeing you in London." He told her. That was half true and for all the wrong reasons but it had been the polite thing to say. With that he turned and started for his room, resisting the urge to turn around, lest her eyes draw him back in.
 
As before, Jonathan found the fire in his room ablaze, and the heat it brought forth bookended his walk from the equally warm dining room through the cold corridors of the castle. Beyond the window, the Transylvanian landscape—dominated by the tree-blanketed ridges and valleys of the Carpathians—stood in its own peculiar union of the placid and the foreboding, the latter element helped not too little by the baying of wolves in the distance. A solitary called pierced the Stygian mountainside, and was answered by a chorus of others.

Within the castle walls, however, all was quiet. The countess was already preparing for her journey, but from his room Jonathan heard nothing of her movements. No footsteps sounded or echoed in the hallways, no plates or glasses clinked from below—or if they did, the sound was lost in the density of the old stone walls. For all the conscious mind could know, time itself might have ceased to move within the castle, save for flickering of the fire in the hearth, and the fact that the distant wolf calls still carried through the old glass window.

As for the countess, though, she might still have been standing as she had been when Jonathan left her: upright and dignified, proud, but quiet, reticent, and ever so mysterious. Her hands hand been clasped singularly before her, each long, painted nail like a raptor's talon stained with the blood of a fresh kill.
 
Strangely enough Jonathan found himself opening the window as the first howl went up, just a crack, but it helped him listen better. The sound chilled his blood but in a way it was comforting too. The baying of the wolves reminded him that he wasn't crazy to find the Carpathians a frightening place, as well as the one who dwelt within them, or would until he finished his work. He began to address the letters as he said he would, making certain that each of them would reach its intended destination, along with the one intended for Mina, which he quickly amended to mention his imminent return.

The work didn't take long but he double and triple checked that everything would be reaching the correct office. Then he took a little while to just listen to the wolves. Frightening though he found them he appreciated that their intentions for him were simple. He was putting off sleep and he knew it. He'd have put it off all night if not for the fear that he might doze off and not be downstairs bright and early for that mail coach.

In the end he forced back that nagging worry that tonight's dreams might further shame him and shut the window to keep out the draft. He then slipped out of his clothing and into bed settling in for the night. It took him a little while still to drift off to sleep but drift off he did, still uneasy of what dreams may come.
 
When they did come, his dreams were perhaps even more vivid than those of the previous night. Once again a vision of the countess came to him, though this time all in white instead of black. Seeming to materialise through the door itself, her elegant figure ghosted across the floor in a blanched silk nightdress, looking more like Mina at first than herself. The garment was low-cut, and not too loose about the hips, and her bosom swelled beneath the gossamer fabric. Her eyes were dark, her lips a vibrant red, but it was those long, pointed red fingernails that swayed the dreamer from believing the apparition to be his wife.

Yet she came to him with all the sensual, loving allure that Mina herself would have come to him with, crawling slowly but surely up the bed and peeling back the covers. Her breasts drew close to him, nestled snugly together in their silken cage, and those talon-like nails gently scratched his skin as she teased his underwear down and away from his manhood. Her tongue replaced the fabric, tasting the base of his cock and slowly dragging up the swelling shaft to lick the tip, and just before she took him in her mouth she smiled. In that moment her gaze seemed to pierce his very soul, and her lips parted to reveal a set of perfect white teeth—perfect but for two long, curving fangs.

An uncontrollable rush betook the man's mind; it seemed to swim, and the haze of the dream grew stronger. Was it not Mina, garbed in white? Mina—an angel in white, not the temptress in black. It seemed so hard to be sure... She rose, and for a moment all was nebulous but for the kiss of wet lips upon the shaft of his cock; the figure straddled him, and something slick and stiff emerged from between those lips, rubbing up against his own stiff shaft.

"Be gentle, my lover," she whispered. Mina... The name seemed to come to him again and again, as though it were being whispered in his ears by unseen, ghostly figures. Mina... make love to me... Mina... lover... "Ohhhhh...."

Jonathan felt his cock sink between cold cheeks, and a flash of the countess' face smiled down at him, fangs and all. Her ass squeezed his cock, and slowly her hips began to move, up and down his erect shaft. Mina... make love to me...

Something warm and slick slid against his stomach; it was rigid, and it twitched when his cock sank fully into her ass, and all the while her hips undulated slowly and smoothly, her buttocks rolling erotically in his lap. Red lips smiled down at him, and the face seemed to shift between that of the countess and of his wife. Mina... Mina... make love to me, Jonathan...
 
The haze addled Jonathan's thoughts as much so as it had before. As the countess approached him, as Mina approached him he couldn't find it in him to be afraid, she tugged back each layer of fabric and was greeted by his hard manhood, which she began to handle expertly. No wonder, considering that she had one of her own. Jonathan groaned as she tasted him and worked her way up to the tip, his fingers sliding down into her hair. When he caught the flash of her fangs he almost managed to recoil but then her lips wrapped around him and a smile spread across his own face, his fingers stroking her dark locks as she pleased him.

Even as her shaft rubbed against his his mind went to Mina, the image forming in his head right away, the gorgeous dark hair, the body that inspired such cravings in him, she could very well be his Mina.

Jonathan groaned as she straddled him, one hand going to her rear, the other coming to rest on her cock, stroking it gently as he had the night before. Mina had never done this before, never had a cock before either, but right now he didn't mind. His hips rolled against hers, his member sliding between her cheeks. The cold of her body was somewhat jarring and for just a second the illusion might have faltered, until he slipped inside of her. She was warm where it counted, on the inside and on her cock.

He thrust into his wife's tight ass as he happily stroked Mina's cock for her, looking up into the Countess's eyes. That was what ruined it. Every other inch of her was Mina to him, the hair, the body, even her fangs and her cock didn't force his mind away from his wife. It was her eyes. Sure, they looked like Mina's in every regard but one, but it was a big one, she didn't love him. Sure, she wanted him, may have even had some twisted affection for him, but she could never get the look in his Mina's eyes exactly right.

Jonathan growled, the haze, the lust, her tightness, it was all too much for him to stop. But the vision of Mina was gone and with it the tenderness he'd felt for her a moment ago. His hands went to her hips and he rolled them over onto the bed. She may have been stronger than he was but she didn't really weigh anything and such a feat was easy. With her on her back he began to thrust, his hips roughly hammering against hers. The look in his eyes was clear. Jonathan hated her, but he also wanted her, and he couldn't stop himself, even as his hand wrapped once more around her cock and began to jerk her off again in time with his thrusts.
 
If with that flash of rage Jonathan assumed enough control for him to question on the morrow if this was really a dream, the line between reality and fancy would surely be blurred by how quickly his control was lost once more. For a few vivid moments he saw the countess gasping, her fangs extended over her bottom lip as she bit down on it in pained pleasure, and her cock twitched in his hand. His cock sank again and again into her tight, hot ass, and it was he who was in control... and then the whispering returned. All at once, all around him, Jonathan's ears were besieged by hushed, silken voices.

Jonathan...
Mistress...​
We want you...
Let us play...​
Come to us...
Mistress...​
Jonathan...
Let us join...​
Jonathan...
Mistress...​

In his mind the whispers danced and mingled, and for a moment everything was hazy once more, but for the sensation of his hips smacking against the countess' buttocks, and that of a warm hole around his cock. Somewhere he could hear her moaning too, but a chill took his spine, and from out of the ether two women appeared by his side. Ghostly pale they were, almost spectral, and completely naked. As they materialised—one blonde, one brunette—they took Jonathan's hands and drew them back from the countess. One turned to kiss him, whilst the other pressed up behind him, and began to buck her own hips in unison with his. For the second night in a row, the solicitor felt something slick and hard slide between his buttocks and over his asshole, and somewhere far off a familiar voice sounded... Jonathan... lover... make love to me... Jonathan... breed me...

Beneath him Mina's face flickered again, but set therein were those cold, piercing eyes—those distant, unloving eyes. The countess gowned in white lay beneath him, pursing her lips and bucking her hips upwards, baring her fangs when she smiled and fucked herself on Jonathan's cock, and still the two women pressed against him on either side. One was at his neck now, biting, drawing blood, and the other followed suit. The cock between his cheeks was slick and smooth, and he felt the head press up against his hole and slip inside. Mina... the countess... whoever lay beneath him had her own cock in her hand, and with a soul-scarring howl she came, spilling hot, white fluids over her gown and breasts, her back arching in pleasure, her ass clenching around Jonathan's cock.
 
He had her exactly where he wanted her, or so he thought. It would have been for the best if Jonathan had been able to reject the Countess, to pull away from her and end this mad dream of his. But he couldn't, and she knew it. He couldn't even stop himself from stroking her cock while he thrust his own inside of her. His thrusts had sped up too, eagerly pursuing his own climax.

Then came the chill and the whispers. He didn't stop, not exactly. He did slow down greatly however, his hips only gently rolling against hers as the whispers surrounded him, and surround him they did. He couldn't pinpoint a speaker but the point the voices came from seemed to shift as if there were more than one speaker, all twirling around him like carrion birds ready to swoop down on their dinner.

He had to shut his eyes for a second as the world swirled before him and the haze became stronger. When they opened again the women were on either side of him. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He felt his hands withdrawn away from the Countess and this time around he couldn't bring himself to fight. He felt one of the women move behind him and knew what he'd feel next even before that hardness presented itself between his cheeks. The fight went out of Jonathan quickly. The haze made fighting hard enough in the first place and it got so much harder when he admitted to himself that he wanted this. He was ashamed of it, but it was still true. He wanted the Countess to be Mina and he wanted that warm thickness prodding his asshole to enter him.

He groaned as Not-Mina began to thrust her hips, fucking herself with his cock. He was already close from the way he'd been pounding into her earlier and the teasing at his rear didn't help. When the spectral woman slipped inside him he moaned, his hips squirming between the sensations assaulting him from both sides. His back stiffened and he cried out as he hit his limit, glancing down into Not-Mina's eyes with a defeated look as his hips bucked a bit of their own accord and filled her tight hole with his seed once more. She had won this night as well and with every spurt of cum inside her or every clench of his rear around her pet's member it became more clear. Jonathan had tried his best and he'd still failed.
 
She came to him then, drawing herself up to kiss his lips. Three simple words sounded in his head as those cold eyes drew close to his: think of Mina... The countess cupped his face, and gently pressed her red mouth to his. For a second all seemed still, but a slick cock was still prodding against his asshole, and before the countess drew away it was inside him, stretching him, filling him, and wordless whispers rang in his ears. Something warm trickled down his neck, and as the countess slipped away she was replaced by the mysterious, ghostly blonde woman. Her lips were bloodied, and when she smiled she too revealed a pair of fangs, these tipped in red.

Ours, came the whispers.
Ours...​
All ours...​

The remainder of Jonathan's vision was spent in a state of weakness, of tiredness, and despite his ghastly company he never woke in sweat or fear. Again and again the pair used him, at first pinning him face-down on the bed and riding him hard. Firm breasts pressed against his back, and the brunette's stiff cock thrust in and out of his ass, claiming it as her own. The women giggled and then fought, hissing like wild cats at one another for the right to ravage the solicitor's behind, and he couldn't be sure who won. All he knew was that one or the other fucked him, and soon a second cock was brought to his lips.

Yessss...
Ours...​
All ours...​

The pair fought again, but again Jonathan was fucked in mouth and ass, held between to thrusting pairs of hips, and two ghostly, ghastly figures. The women would have been beautiful if it weren't for those awful fangs and their bestial behaviour.

At one point the sound of kissing rang out above him; the two had made up, it seemed, or were simply caught in the carnal flow as one took him from behind and the other fucked his mouth. He was just a toy to them, and they used him well: one drove her spasming cock deep inside of him when she came, and the other gasped and giggled when she finally pumped her seed down his throat. From there everything faded to nothingness, and when Jonathan awoke his sheets were a crumpled mess.
 
Jonathan kissed Mina back when her lips met his, cold though they were. How could he not? He knew it was a lie, that it was all a lie, but he wanted so badly for it to be true. If there had been any chance of him forgetting his predicament that went away just as soon as one of the ghostly women thrust inside of him, making him groan against Not-Mina's lips. And when the Countess slipped away she was replaced by one of her servants, an apparition without event he courtesy to masquerade as his wife, not that the illusion held up well when he was being penetrated. He glared at her but it was hard to keep focused when a thick cock was sliding into you again and again.

The penetration meant that even though he had so recently spilled his seed inside of Countess Cocula he was still half hard, his manhood beginning to stiffen again as he was assaulted from behind. He whimpered when he was pinned to the bed and actually did try to struggle away when they started to get too rough with him, it was pointless, for all the good it did him he might have simply asked them to stop. He groaned when he was suddenly empty again, having a second to catch his breath, but before he could make a run for it their fight was over and again he felt something firm and long sliding its way between his buttocks.

Any chance of him squirming away went out the window when he saw that thick shaft in front of him. He knew this was happening whether he wanted it to or not so he simply opened his mouth and let it happen, grunting around the shaft as it thrust into his throat. His cock throbbed like crazy beneath him, largely the result of the girl who was working his rear. The fight seemed to be over as the two kissed and he settled in for the long haul. It hurt, and it was demeaning, but it wasn't all bad. Every now and then he could enjoy the penetration, though it was obvious they were only interested in their own pleasure not his.

At some point during the ordeal he even managed to spill his seed again, this time on the bedsheets. The climax caused him to moan around the shaft lodged in his throat and tighten around the one in his ass. A second later he could feel them filling him up and as the warmth spread through him it became so very hard to keep his eyes open. They fluttered shut and didn't snap back open until the sun was up and he found himself stark naked in a completely disheveled bed.
 
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