Transylvanian Roulette (Part One)

"Before you kill me," said the old man, "let me tell you how I got this way."

Funny how vampires suddenly want to stop for a chat when you have a sharpened stake jabbed into their ribcage. What the hell, I thought, I might as well humour him.

The story he told me made me realise that this was going to be a case that Nicole would be interested in. Nicole is the supernatural affairs editor for "World's Most Dangerous Sex Acts" magazine, and we have worked together many a time.

Let me introduce myself, my name is Van Helsing, David Van Helsing. All right, so you've never heard of me, unless maybe your a reader of the previously mentioned magazine, but I bet you've heard of my old great grand-daddy, the great Professor Van Helsing. Well, I'm in the same line of work, killing vampires, and other supernatural creepy-crawlies. The only difference is I sometimes like to fuck them first. Call it a penchant, call it an eccentricity... All right, call it down right perverted if you like, but I like to get me a little monster pussy from time to time. Once I even sucked a Fuckubus, er, I mean, fucked a Succubus. Doesn't mean I'm soft on the critters. Hell, no. I always kill them afterwards. Not only does that rid the world of some mighty dangerous creatures, but it makes sure no monster kids turn up on my doorstep in ten years time calling me Daddy.

Many a time Nicole has come along with me on one of these adventures to record the event for posterity. I could write the story myself but who'd believe me. Nicole is my expert witness, and she takes photos. And, all right, sometimes she saves my ass when I get myself in too deep.

You could say she plays Dr. Watson to my Sherlock Holmes.

Of course Sherlock Holmes and Watson never fucked. Or at least if they did, Watson never wrote about it in the stories. Nicole and I, on the other hand, fuck like bunny rabbits whenever we are on a mission together. Danger will do that to you. Either that, or it'll make you piss your pants. It can go either way.

"It all happened about six months ago, when I was making my way home from the pub in the early hours of the morning," the old man explained. Of course he was speaking in Romanian, this being Transylvania and all, but I'm translating it here for your benefit. "I was making my way through the pass in the mountains when thunderclouds started piling up in the sky and I could tell that the downpour would occur any moment. I had to find shelter. The only place nearby was the old castle. I knew that some folks held it to be haunted, but not being the superstitious kind, I went up to the front door. I found it ajar. I knocked but there was no answer, so I entered hoping to at least keep the rain off, even if I couldn't find a bed for the night. I found the place deserted. Wherever I looked, upstairs and down, I saw not a soul. Eventually I decided that if the castle was not occupied there would be no harm in me sleeping in one of the beds. The linen smelt a little stale, but it would at least be warm. I found a small servants bedroom under the stairs and decided to use it. In case the owner of the castle should turn up unexpectedly I thought it would be best to be found in the servant's quarters.

"Getting undressed I crawled into the small bed. I slept only fitfully in this strange environment, and at some time after midnight I was awoken by the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. They seemed to be coming closer.

"I pulled my head under the bedclothes and tried to pretend to be lump in the mattress.

"'Greetings, traveller," came a smooth seductive female voice from the doorway, indicating that my attempts at concealment had been unsuccessful. "I thought that I would just come up and see if there was anything I could do to make your stay a little more comfortable.'

"'Something about the way that she said 'come up' instead of 'come down' made me a little uneasy. The main bedrooms were upstairs. All that was down stairs was the cellar.

"When I finally got up the courage to stick my head out from under the blankets, I found that I was being addressed by one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She was tall and slim with snow white skin and ebony hair that fell freely to her waist. Her eyes were emerald green and held me with a look that made me want only to do her bidding, whatever that might be. She was dressed only in a gossamer thin night gown of antique design which being nearly transparent did nothing to conceal the rosy red nipples that tipped her milky breasts or the wild growth of jet-black pubic hair that decorated the area between her defiantly spread legs.

"As my eyes ran up and down her gorgeous body my cock stiffened and stood up beneath the bedclothes. She noticed this and her eyes focussed on the place where the blankets were rising circus-tent-style.

"'Show me your cock,' she ordered, letting me know that I was to be her love-slave.

"I threw back the covers and unveiled my manhood. I liked the way she smiled as she looked at it. What I didn't like was the thin trails of drool that were seeping from the edges of her mouth. There was something unnatural about this woman. But her hypnotic eyes and the snake-grace with which she moved her hips entranced me. As she strode towards me I could almost feel in advance the rough carress that her forest of pubes would give my upper thigh. Sure enough she lifted a long white gossamer-shrouded leg and straddled my left leg. I could feel her wetness trickling over my thigh and dampening the sheet below. A pale, deathly cold hand wrapped itself gently around the hot hardness of my stiff cock, and she bent slowly to take it in her mouth. It was when I felt her long wet tongue encircle my prick that I realised that she was not human. By then I didn't care.

"I have a rather large cock," the old man explained, starting to pull down his pants.

"That's O.K." I reassured him. "I'll believe you."

"Anyway, no woman could ever fit the whole of it in her mouth," he told me. "But this woman, or thing, made love to the whole of my cock. Not just that, but my balls as well. She didn't take it into her mouth. Her mouth came to it. She had a tongue like a snake's tongue, only thicker and wetter. It slithered out of her mouth and down in circles around my cock, dripping saliva as it went. When the whole of my cock was wrapped in her wet tongue and the tip of it was tickling my balls, she started to wank me off with it. It was the best blow-job I'd ever had. No human could give a blowjob like that.

"And she wasn't a human. She was a vampire. Once she had me in her spell, she made no attempt to hide her fangs. I could see the razor sharp ivory carressing the purple veins of my cock lovingly.

"It is blood, under high pressure, that makes a man's cock stiff. Female vampires don't bite a guy in the neck. The funny thing is when it gets to that moment, you know what they're going to do, but you wouldn't stop them for the world. They say the female preying mantis bites her mate's head off a the moment of ejaculation so that his whole attention is on what he is doing. The brain only gets in the way of pleasure. As I ejaculated in a spray of one part cum to 99 parts blood into the vampire's mouth, death took my mind long before it came for my body, which floated away on all encompassing tide of ecstacy.

"A week after my death, I arose from my coffin and began to feast on the blood of the village maidens."

His story was at an end, and I added the full stop with a swift hammer blow, which drove the sharp stake deep into his heart.

To be continued...