1590
Very few things in the world had the power to frighten Electra. Her master's wrath happened to be one of them. And even that was usually only enough to make her take a step back and bow her head. Right now she shrunk down to the floor, positively cowering. Dracula's shadow aura was practically causing the whole keep to tremble with his rage. "Dost thou dare presume to insult my intelligence, Electra?"
"No milord," Electra responded weakly. "I spoke only truth to you."
"Then perhaps it is thy intelligence that must be questioned," he barked, pointing the wickedly sharp nail of his almost skeletal finger at her. "Thou was truthfully foolish enough to bring all of the inner guards away from the keep to accompany thee on thy damned petty raid?"
Electra momentarily glanced around her. Dracula's fury at her was bad enough, but she was being positively humiliated in front of the entire court—or at least what was left of it. One face in particular would have truly made her blood boil if her blood wasn't already frozen with her fear of her master. "I knew the villagers would be far more intimidated if we came in greater numbers," she explained. "And I saw not how the Darkhunters could have passed the outer guards. They are but three..."
"Three who have all but wiped out my brethren of the Black Church!" Dracula roared. "Thou should have known not to underestimate them! Thou wasted our needed manpower on an insignificant jaunt, and because of that our numbers have been decimated!"
"My lord, I beg thee, have mercy—"
Electra's pleas fell silent as Dracula extended a bony claw to her, and she felt the hand of his shadow aura gripping her throat. And then she felt something else; something inside her started to burn. No, it wasn't burning. She wasn't quite sure what was happening until she felt whatever it was moving up out of her body and into the ethereal hand that held her. With a rush of horror, she realized she was being stripped of the power she had been given when he declared her as his queen.
Once it was gone, he released her, and she collapsed onto her hands and knees. Dracula held the floating orb of dark power that had been hers above his hand. "The mantle of Queen of Darkness is thine no more!" he declared.
Electra suddenly came to a horrifying realization: he wasn't going to kill her. He was going to strip her of her power but leave her alive. He was going to make her watch him give her power to someone else. And he was doing it all because he knew it was the worst thing he could possibly do to her.
And then he made it even worse.
"Veatrice!" he called. Electra cringed with horror and rage at the call of that name; the name of the one face in the crowd of Dracula's court that had made her most furious of all. And out of the crowd she came, the hem of her flowing dress gliding along as her dainty feet carried her in Dracula's direction. Electra glared at her, at that pompous whore with the sleek blonde hair and long, spidery fingers. And Veatrice saw her glare, responding with a disgustingly smug little smirk.
"My lord, I beg thee," Electra pleaded, "not the damned sorceress!"
"Hold thy tongue, wench!" Dracula barked. "Lest I should rip it out!"
Veatrice stepped up to Dracula, and dropped to one knee. "Veatrice, dost thou accept the mantle of Queen of Darkness, with all the power and responsibilities such entails?"
"I humbly accept my lord," she intoned, despite the fact that everyone could tell there was nothing humble about her. Dracula began lowering the glowing orb to her. Electra seethed with fury, and finally lunged at Veatrice, desperate to stop this from happening. The grip of Dracula's shadow hand held her back, leaving only to watch as the power that was rightfully hers was given to this foul, magic-spewing bitch. Veatrice gasped and threw her head back as the power entered her body, then went stiff for a moment, and then rose to her feet and clenched and unclenched her fists, her fingers surging with what looked like green lightning. "Yes..." she breathed. "The power!"
Then her gaze, along with a horrible smile, fixed themselves on Electra. "I'd say this merits a slight test," she mused, and extended an open hand to her. Electra felt the electrifying force of Veatrice's magic taking hold of her, and it flung her helplessly across the chamber and slammed her into the far wall.
"Shall I continue, my lord?" Veatrice asked. Electra could hear her hoping for a 'yes.'
"That won't be necessary, Veatrice my dear," Dracula said. "Leave my presence now, Electra Rose," he commanded, "and pray that I should never again cross thy path."
Electra sat glaring at them, and especially at Veatrice, for a moment longer before rising to her feet and pushing open the huge chamber doors. And as she stepped out into the corridors that led out of the keep, she bitterly whispered, "This is not over, Veatrice."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anthony may not have exactly had total control of Caitlyn just yet, but for the moment she was still following commands well. He was dressed only in his robe, which was very loosely tied and the flaps were pulled apart at the crotch, allowing his cock to thrust upward into Caitlyn's hungry mouth. His right hand rested atop her head as it bobbed up and down on him, while his left arm wrapped around Nina's bare shoulders. Nina sat cuddled next to him on the sofa, just as naked as Caitlyn, idly fingering herself as she observed the show being displayed before them.
They were watching Sara and Meg perform one of Anthony's favorite games on the bed in front of them: the two girls were entwined in a tight sixty-nine position, hungrily licking and slurping each other's wet folds, trying to see who could make the other cum first. Whoever won got to have sex with the master. Sara and Meg were also particularly fond of this game, and frequently offered to play it when Anthony was bored. Seven times out of ten Meg won, but each time Sara lost she gained a burning drive to win next time (due in no small part to Anthony's hypnotic influence), which sometimes brought her victory. Once or twice they actually came almost simultaneously, and the game had to be taken into sudden death.
Aside from the obvious appeal of this game, it was also particularly entertaining to watch how fiercely the two of them struggled to maintain composure. Their fingers dug into the undersides of each other's thighs, their toes curled and their legs fidgeted about, not to mention the sharp, muffled grunts that both of them were making. Sara, who lay prone beneath Meg, at one point dropped her head back on the bed and began crying out freely. "Focus Sara," Anthony commanded. "You're never going to win that way." She immediately lifted her head back up to Meg's sex to resume.
"She's certainly trying," Nina said. Anthony's attention turned away from the game in front of him to Nina. The often-recurring thought of turning her was resurfacing again. Despite his fears about losing her, the more he thought about making her a vampire the more he liked it. Nina was more to him than just a harem slave; he loved her. He wanted her with him forever.
"Nina," he said. She looked up into his face. "Do you love me?"
"Yes."
