A Gothic Tale Margarete And Henri

As told by Count Marco D'Amario

Translated and transcribed by CameraGuy2K

I am Count Marco D'Amario. I come from a monied family of four generations past. My wife, Madam Margarete and I live in a secluded well-to-do area of Poland, very near the Black Forest. Having enjoyed a very nice dinner we were about to say goodnight to our guest, young Jerrold Drinko. His family and ours were good friends of many years until their horrible coach accident. Poor Jerrold was left defenseless and alone in that big house. I am his Count. My wife and I care about him. Jerrold was an upper-class student in the village university school back then. We continued to ask him to visit us even after the vampire bit him and infected his blood - dooming him to a half-dead existence in darkness. He is now that much more special to our little family.

As it so happened, the townspeople had captured and killed his sponsor vampire. This left the poor boy on his own to learn to feed and fend for himself in a new but awful reality. If the townspeople knew about him, they would kill the lad too. He is quite the fine young gentleman and a positive influence on our village. We are very fond of him. Margarete and I try to look out for him when we can. Tonight, we invited him for a beef steak dinner. Of course, he wanted his steak very rare and without the garlic butter preparation. He seemed to enjoy it which pleased our chef very much.

Following dinner, we conversed in the parlor over an aged dessert Port wine as is our custom. After a while, young Jerrold rose to excuse himself for leaving. "You have been most kind and gracious hosts this evening, but I'm afraid I must leave your fine company. I do thank you for a wonderful evening."

Margarete interjected. "Jerrold, you mustn't go so soon. We see you so rarely and we so enjoy your company. Don't we Count?" She turned toward the Count for confirmation. " Please, will you not stay a little longer. Would you?"

"I'm sorry Madam Margarete, but I must decline. Your cooks had prepared the most delicious meal to the perfection of every mortal manner of things. Now being vampire, unfortunately I am left feeling still wanting, but in a different way. You understand, of course. Don't you?"

Being a tender-hearted soul, Margarete continued. "Here, Jarrold." She rolled the sleeve of her evening gown up her arm. "I offer you the veins in my left forearm as a dessert, of sorts. If you would but stay with us a little longer. We do enjoy your visits with us."

Margarete is a fine and luscious figure of a woman in every way. A fact that she often used to her advantage and her pleasure. She was older than young Jarrold, but she knew he had lusted after her for quite some time. In fact, ever since he first saw her in the village square market. A shop keeper remarked to her in confidence at the overheard comments he had made to his fellow classmates. Being the wife of the Count put her completely off limits.

"Well, only if you are very sure, Madam Margarete." He looked over at the Count seeking his approval and receiving an affirmative nod. "I promise not to be greedy, although I'm quite sure your blood will taste very sweet and fine to me. Especially after that fine port wine we shared following dinner."

I poured myself another generous glass of Port. I sat and watched as young Jerrold fed on my wife's now bloodied forearm. The longer she sat there, the more entranced she became. She threw her head back as her eyes rolled upwards into her head in sweet ecstasy. She was near having an orgasm sitting on young Jerrold's lap. Her right arm clung around his neck. His left arm supported her back as his right hand was busy holding her left forearm to his lips and exposed fangs.

Finally, she was very near losing consciousness. She caught herself and withdrew her arm from his grasp and fangs. She wiped the still dripping blood from her puncture wounds with her finger. She then offered young Jerrold one last taste. "This will be quite enough for now, you are a lusty, lusty boy. I must save myself for later if you please," she said.

Young Jerrold looked somewhat refreshed but still had the look of unfulfilled frustration on his face. He had been correct in his assumption that Madam Margarete would be a sweet and tasty dish. Still, he knew he needed more. He wanted more but she had volunteered herself. Yet, he could not prevail upon her to take more than she offered. He had this personal rule about that - unless he was hunting. He would not take more blood from her. She had been very generous, and he appreciated her. That was also because he loved her in his own immature ways.

The doorbell rang. Madam Margarete excused herself to answer the door. I listened at the parlor doorway and could hear voices through the corridor. They were male and female but too low in volume for understanding.

Young Jerrold tapped me on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Count. May I get by you, sir? I must continue with my hunt before the sun rises. It is a matter of some urgency you see."

"Of course, young Jerrold. I would offer you my own forearm veins, but I'm sure my taste would not be as sweet as Margarete's."

"You are very kind, sir, but I cannot accept. Your family has been quite generous to me under the most unusual circumstances over the years. I treasure you and your wife's friendship. Again, if you please, I really must be leaving now."

Young Jerrold was about to push pass him into the corridor to leave, but I braced my forearm at his chest to halt his advance. "Shhh. Listen."

The stairway leading to the upstairs bedrooms creaked. We both heard it. We heard Margarete's voice coming back from the front door toward the parlor. We hurried to resume our previous sitting positions in the room as Margarete returned.

"Well, that was odd. A traveling salesman wanted to sell us life insurance at this hour of the evening. It seems our neighbors recommended us. Can you imagine? Tomorrow, I must have words with that neighbor. But for now, if you gentlemen don't mind, I'd like to get some rest. For some reason, I'm feeling... for lack of a better word... drained. Please continue your man-to-man conversations without me. I'll excuse myself now." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, then kissed Jerrold's cheek as well. "Goodnight to you both, my two gentle men."

Madam Margarete turned and walked down the corridor toward the staircase. As she turned up the stairs and stepped higher, we heard a similar creaking in the staircase wooden steps. It was not as loud as before but we both heard it. I rubbed my chin in thoughtful resignation and returned to my seat.

"Young Jerrod, my boy! What say we wait a bit before you leave. I have the premonition of a plan to reward your patience, and it will be well worth the extra time spent in waiting. Would you care for another glass of Port with me while we bide our time?"

After enjoying my glass of port, I arose from my chair. My forehead furrowed with fierce intent in my eyes and my lips were thin. I am not by nature a violent man. As Count, I employ others for those necessary tasks. I had used the last few moments to gather my anger and my glass of port to bolster my resolve. This time, I had to do something.

"Young Jerrold, my friend? Can you be stealthy? I have an idea sure to please us both tonight. Are you willing to try?"

Young Jerrold sat squirming in his leather wing back chair. He was itching and shaking in a way drug addicts do when in the grips of withdrawal and in need of another fix. He could only nod and remained speechless and shaking.

"I promise you we can satisfy your needs very soon. Please follow me closely." I removed my shoes to be stealthier. Young Jerrold did likewise. Step by step we climbed the stairway to the upstairs bedrooms then stopped. I pointed at the known creaky step and motioned to young Jerrold to avoid stepping there. We continued climbing until we reached the second-floor landing.

Using a gentle whisper where the sound would not carry, I spoke to Young Jerrold. "We must catch them both in the throes of passion. I'm sure your blood sample will be super-charged with adrenaline and a goodly supply of sexual endorphins by then. I have been studying such things in my research laboratory. You may even receive a general light-headedness high, but in the most pleasant way. You can have all the blood you can extract from Henri. I have known he has been cheating with my wife for several months and I will be well-rid of his nuisance. I will dispose of the body in the swamp outside of town. After all, that's where the villagers found the bodies of other victims from the slain vampire that infected you. If the townspeople found Henri's body there, the blame would fall on him. As for Margarete, you may wish to sample her again some future time in an emergency. I prefer to keep her healthy and well for myself for now. She is special in her own way. Is that agreeable to you?"

Young Jerrold nodded in agreement with a shaky smile. His symptoms were growing worse by the minute. His skin grew more pale, and his eye sockets darkened. He knew he had the best of friends in Count D'Amario.

The Count took his pants belt off and readied himself for what was about to happen. He'd seen the pre-vision of it all in the plans he made in his mind over the last waiting minutes. Now it was about to happen.

Whispering to young Jerrold, "I will hold him down with my belt. You attack his carotid artery and feast. I'll control Margarete. Are you ready?"

Together, they crept into the bedroom in total silence. Margarete was a naked goddess. She was kneeling in a female superior sex position riding on Henri's cock like a wild stallion. His eyes were under a blindfold and his wrists tied with ropes to the corners of the headboard bedpost. He was quite immobile -- an easy prey for Jerrold. Margarete had also gagged his mouth. It would not be wise for him to be making loud sexual noises while I was still in the house down below. That would indeed be quite foolhardy. I knew that sexual position very well from our youth. We still played that game on occasion. Watching Margarete's feminine and luscious naked body, I was almost envious of Henri. Yet, it hurt me inside to witness this happening. That would not be so for very much longer.

We stalked our prey in the dimly candlelit room. Young Jerrold's eyes turned to fiery red flames as his appetite grew and his fangs extended. He took his cue as I lunged at the victim using my belt to control Henri's waist down to the bed. Young Jerrold lunged at Henri's exposed neck veins, using his hands to control the tossing of his head. Margarete screamed in surprise. She was so much in the throes of her own passion; she disregarded everything else that was going on. She closed her eyes and continued fiercely riding Henri's cock. Henri could only squirm through his muffled screams. The more he did so, the more Margarete seemed to enjoy herself with a broadening smile.

"Fuck him, Margarete! Keep fucking him," I yelled out. "This will be the best orgasm of your life. I'm sure of it." Margarete needed no further encouragement. Henri's cock filled her private space as well as her sexual needs like no man ever before. The more she pounded her pussy on Henri's cock, the more endorphins his body pumped into his blood stream.

Young Jerrold was working very hard to keep his fangs and lips connected to the veins at Henri's throat. All the bouncing and thrashing around on the bed now would soon be over. As Jerrold continued feeding, his own half-dead body began reacting to the fresh taste of extra chemicals from Henri's blood. As Jerrold continued to gorge himself, Henri's movements began to slow. He soon began to lose consciousness the longer young Jerrold fed.

Margaret felt Henri's very hot, and blood engorged death erection buried deep inside her pussy, and it thrilled her even more. She couldn't get enough of this endowed cock and rode him hard as long as it lasted. She burned inside and only Henri's cock could fan the flames of her lust at that moment. She realized that he was very close to orgasm now.

She climbed off and repositioned her body to catch the spurts of his final orgasm. She held her mouth near his cock aimed between her red-rouged lips ready to suckle out all his seed. To her way of thinking, a man's seed gave life. She assumed it would enhance her own life if she sucked it from living men. Drink it she did as any succubus should. It was their mission in life. Henri came in thick spurts of a white mixture of salt and sweet with the smell of freshly laundered linen. She liked that about Henri. He was always willing and ready to feed her generously in this unusual way. It was a shame it would soon be over.

A ten minutes later, Henri was dead. It served him right taking something that wasn't his to take -- namely Madam Margarete. Neither is Margarete blameless. I didn't care about Henri. He was a gruff and unsophisticated bore. I also did not care for my wife sneaking around behind my back with him -- in our own house, no less... while I was home, no less. What balls! I had finally had enough of that. Margarete didn't think I knew about it. This is a small village. I am the Count. Need I say more?

In truth, Margarete didn't care for Henri all that much either. She didn't seem upset at all by this fatal incident. Henri had been a selfish lover most of the time. He got his jollies off and left her in the lurch, unsatisfied. She enjoyed the action. His cock gave her fuller, deeper penetration and he could have sex for a long time. The bonus was that he was available for her any time she desired him. She stood at the side of the bed and reached for his now slightly withered cock and her pleasuring organ. She grasped it by the head and shook it. "I'm going to miss this about you Henri."

Margarete stood gazing at her own glistening naked body reflected in the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. She held her still firm breasts and squeezed them gently. Then she smoothed her hands down her body, flat tummy, and curved hips. She knew that she could have any man in the village she desired with a bat of an eye or a whiff of her personal perfume.

I knew that too, but I kept her around anyway to decorate my life. We had fun early on in our marriage and we still do. But it pains me that Margarete wanted something extra from time to time. No other man could take her away from me. I am Count D'Amario, for either love or money she is mine. This was only sex. She still loves only me, but she also knows I am a fool for allowing her indiscretions. I will have to devise some new form of punishment. She has already learned to love her spankings. Love is a painful bliss, is it not? I should think carefully on this.

Young Jerrold couldn't be happier with the way things turned out. He had enjoyed a fine dinner with the Count and his strange but beautiful wife. The fresh blood and the extra chemicals in the blood had given him a brief unnatural and dizzying high. He felt light-headed and he could hardly keep a smile from his satiated face. He had tasted fear in a victim's blood before. That was a vampire's stock in trade. These sex endorphins mixed with fear induced chemicals had his brain swirling. He'd have to remember that specific combination of factors when he needed to hunt again. He couldn't help but fantasize about this kind of three-way situation and how to repeat it with some other, but unsuspecting couple. Dawn's sunrise would come in less than an hour. He would have to return to his home for sleep. His new blood infusion makes him feel almost normally human again. Young Jerrold wondered if this time, he would dream.

~THE END~