Erotic Horror - Lady Anne sucks vampires
Author's notes: Warning! This is a work of fiction. Please be polite. Constructive comments are appreciated, hate speech will be deleted.
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Lady Anne put her hands on the balcony rail, all modesty put behind her, as she was in her black lace nightgown, her full breasts straining to break the lace, even as her nipples clawed to break free from it. A cool gust stiffened them, but that was the last respite they were to have this summer's night. She peered out into the graveyard, where action she could not quite make out was taking place. Grave robbers, she thought to herself, can't they just let the dead rest in peace?
Her long auburn hair framed her model pretty face, but she did not know this, never having traveled more than fifty miles from the manor in which her mother died giving her birth. The manor bordered the graveyard, which bordered the marsh, leading to all manner of spectral fogs and ghostly apparitions. It was also, she suspected, a hot bed of criminal activity to supply the medical schools down in London. No matter, but it made it very hard to keep good help.
Lady Anne felt the weight of her full breasts, and she felt their urgency. Not since that summer when Jonas the gardener had seduced her had she felt these layers upon layers of craving. So many years barren, she craved a lover, willing even to display her form to the criminals doubtless below, daring any man to take notice of her.
She had prayed for a lover. There was a chapel in the manor, but she had not visited it since she was deflowered. Her silver cross was put away. Her thighs would not stop their incessant craving, and she rolled her hose down to her knees just to regain her self control. She longed to touch herself, but she knew that would only make matters worse without a man to satisfy her, so she bit her lip and turned back inside.
A specter raced past her, dark and fore-biding in the candlelight. She followed it out into the dark hall. Then down to the main ballroom. She must be dreaming! Inside were dozens of people, all naked, engaged in various forms of sexual debauchery she could not possibly have imagined on her own! Single people touching themselves and staring right at her, couples of men, women, and men with women, looking up from their carnal congress to leer at her. Threesomes of every description, and then piles of people she could could not even begin to describe what they were doing to each other! Then the specter raced past her again, and she was alone in the dark ballroom, panting and breathless, breasts heaving, nether regions drenched. Her mind was playing tricks on her!
Her friend Tonya had told her this would happen, begged her to come South and make herself available to the cadets at the academy, or even the students at Eton. But Anne had been steadfast in her resolve, un-shakeable in her faith that the man who had taken her would return. He had promised. He would come and take her again.
But eighteen years had past, as much time as before she had given in to him the first time. She had ardent suitors, and a fuck was a fuck, so the local noblemen did check in to have their dalliances with her from time to time. While it took the edge off, it did not satisfy her to her core the way that Jonas had satisfied her. Perhaps it was his size, perhaps it was something else. Perhaps it was for the same reason she could no longer wear white - it was almost as if she'd deliberately chosen darkness.
Jonas was dark. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark temper. He was tall, handsome, in a Germanic / Saxon kind of way. He'd been kind to her, but made her aware she was a woman by how and where he stared at her. He gardened at night, to leave the grounds free for her during the day, and new flowers were always there to greet her each morning. Until the week that Jonas has taken her, every night, until he was forced to leave. But he promised to return! Anne told herself so forcefully, she hardly noticed her nails cutting into the soft palms of her hands.
"Anne. Anne. Come to me." a voice whispered in the darkness, but from where? She raced to the balcony, but whatever had been going on the the graveyard, it was now quiet again. "Anne. Anne. Come to me. I need you." a voice whispered from behind her. She turned and raced from her room, to the balcony on the other side of the manor, the room that had been hers as a child. She saw no one there, but she did notice a strange horse - black as coal with eyes that seemed to glow red in the reflected firelight from the study below her. A strange horse - perhaps a strange new man. Hope surged in her breast as she raced down the long stairs bordering the main ballroom, stopping for just a moment to check her sanity and that it was still dark and un-occupied.
But a search of the grounds and even the stables produced no one, so she returned to the horse. The horse looked at her, content, not nervous, as she stroked its coat and it softly snorted. Then she could hear "Anne. Anne. Come to me. I need you. I must have you now!" as clearly as if the horse had said it himself. She tried to mount the horse, but her pretty lace nightgown was hung up upon a nail, and would not let her move. "Anne. Anne. Come to me. I need you. I must have you NOW!" the voice demanded, and she complied. She shrugged off the nightgown, mounting the bareback horse bareback herself, and rode out of the estate.
She rode in the full moonlight, laughing at what the barons and dukes would think of her, riding naked in the moonlight. Probably have her committed - right after they had their way with her.
The rhythm of the horse at gallop rubbed her in ways that could only remind her of Jonas. And then he was there, caressing her breasts from behind, kissing her neck, then biting there, touching between her thighs, spreading them so wide she was sure she would fall off the horse. Then he bit into her thigh, so hard he drew blood, but Anne did not care. His strong arms lifted her up, and for the first time in eighteen years she was filled with as much cock as she truly desired. Jonas found new rhythms, never letting the fuck grow old, riding her so hard she cried out in both pleasure and pain. They rode and rode and rode, and Anne begged God Himself that it would never end.
She found herself face down in the marsh, but still Jonas would not let her go. He rammed into her until he came, then did what he'd never done before. With Anne's face half buried in the muck, he knelt behind her, kissing her most erogenous area, licking her puffy pussy lips, finding her rosebud of desire. He would bring her to climax, then bite into her thigh. He again brought her to climax, only to bite into her thigh. Again and again he took her that way, until he had taken enough from her, then he plunged into her again, driving his long and thick manhood into her depths, until he had filled her completely. They fucked until there was no moon in the sky.
That morning, Anne awoke in the marsh, looking a fright, but she did not care one whit. Jonas had returned for her. Nothing could take the glory from this day. She swaggered out to the road, surprised to find herself at the far south end of the marsh, the furthest point of it from Bromwyn manor. So she bravely marched up the road, like Lady Godiva, as if she was not nude at all.
Shortly her feet hurt, then ached, then a carriage appeared in the distance. She hailed them and they stopped.
"Are you all right, Miss? You've taken a dip in the marsh, eh?" The driver called out.
"I'm supposed to be at Bromwyn manor." Anne declared.
Opening the door, a dark haired man in full military dress uniform stepped out of the carriage and said "Without any clothes? What kind of services were you meant to provide there?" with a chuckle.
"Whatever the Lady of the Manor decreed." Anne answered back, now aware that her situation had become quite difficult.
"Well then, we are on her way to see her, and I know she would want you to service us." he said as he approached her, dropping his trousers as his companions closed in from her sides and behind.
"Please, sir. I've never taken one in my mouth before." Anne begged, with what was the truth.
"No matter girl. To be a proper serving wench, you must learn." He laughed as he forced his thick meat between her lips, kneeling as his friends pulled her haunches up to have access to her privates.
Anne flashed back to the memory of the ballroom from the night before. She could see them, clear as day, as she looked up into her own eyes, one man in her mouth, another in her slick channel, just as they were in the ballroom! Then the man behind her slid down underneath her, re-inserted himself, and started slapping her ass cheeks with his hands. The man in her mouth - every bit the size and girth of Jonas - if not more - pulled out, only to be replaced by another. Then he spread her recently reddened cheeks, to spit into her rosebud. Aware of his intent Anne struggled, only to find the man below her pinning her legs with his own, the man in front of her holding her head to his crotch, and two others holding her arms so that her hands could service their members. The military man spat on his cock, thrusting his huge shaft into her with one swift stroke, just enough to get the head inside her dark channel.
Anne floated free. Her body became a sacrifice, her anointing to her lover. It was Jonas inside of her, Jonas in her forbidden dark channel, Jonas in her mouth, Jonas in her hands. Jonas used her that day just as long as he had the night before, until the men had worn themselves out.
They sat her on the trunk of the carriage, then tied her in place as she could not even sit up straight. The ride to the manor was quiet in the afternoon sun, but hot. Anne could feel the mud and blood and sperm caked on to her everywhere, in every pore, in every orifice.
Baked and used, Anne was delirious when the servants found her, strapped naked and gang banged on the back of the carriage. She had a fever, which did not break until after the sun went down.
A slight breeze came, knocking the shudders open, as a dark specter raced around and around her, spinning her around until she was so dizzy she feel on the floor. When she awoke, she was in the brightly lit ballroom, nude once again, and Jonas was in her mouth. The other men came and took her again, filling her channel and seam, then left.
"Pleasure me. Drink of me." Jonas commanded.
Suddenly Anne wanted nothing more in the whole world. She realized Jonas would never trust her fully, unless she gave to him that which she'd given (even under duress) to others. She worked on taking as much of Jonas into her mouth as she could, spiraling her tongue around the head of his member, sucking the blood from his legs as she realized she had fangs now, and sucking was what she lived for. She took his manhood, sucking it dry, time and time again, alternating between the open veins in his thighs, tasting his blood, then his cock, tasting his seed. As dawn approached, she felt sated and full, while Jonas kissed her, those delirious long teasing kisses that made her head spin and her knees weak. "I must go. Wait for me. I will return to you." He promised her again.
Picking herself up off the floor of the empty ballroom, she fled from the light racing in its open windows. She found her face covered in blood, as was her nightgown. She simply took it off and threw it in the rubbish bin. She felt hot, and dizzy. Making her way back to the bed, she found she could barely stand, falling face down into the bed.
"Gawd, Beth, her arse is stuck up like a trophy." Gina said.
"Hell, Gina. Look at her holes. They used her pretty good." Beth replied, running her fingers over the soft, exposed flesh.
"Mannequins don't march in the summertime!" Anne blurted out.
"Blimey, she's gone right round the bend!" Gina said.
"So - she can't really mind when I do this!" Beth said triumphantly, as she spread open Anne, fingering her slick channel, rubbing her exposed and erect clit.
