Features f/m sex. Themes include consensual d/s and specifically femdom. Also there is a vampire. Part of a series.
The story takes place in the 15th century, the late middle ages, somewhere in the Holy Roman Empire (medieval proto-Germany).
All characters are over the age of 18.
"I will go to the countess," I told my parents.
My mother's eyes widened. "Erik, you cannot... that woman... you know the terrible price she exacts."
My father said nothing, staring at the ground, his eyes downcast. I knew he agreed, but he was too afraid to say so. He did not want to be the one who sent his son to the vampire's den.
"I know," I told mother. "But the Kossmanns have gone too far this time. If I don't go, we can't be certain we will have a field at all next year."
My mother ignored my words, looking at my father instead. "Yannik, perhaps we can sell the land after all. Surely it's better than..."
My father shook his head. "Not now, Sina. We have already planted half the crops. They won't pay for them. Perhaps this is what they want," he said, his voice tinged with resignation. He still did not look me in the eye.
My mother looked between us, but she knew father spoke truth. And anyway, we had rented the same plot for generations, having acquired a contract to do so almost a century ago, in the wake of the Plague. We couldn't just sell that right to the Kossmanns now, just because they kept harassing us and stealing our seed.
"Mother, it's not as though she kills anyone," I tried. "The Bolenders had gone to the countess just two months ago to beg for help with their bandit problem, and Mikael Bolender came back with three soldiers two days later."
The truth was that the countess, for all that she was a vampire, was still better than the other lords. Viscount Lotz, who swore fealty to the countess, would never entertain a petition made by a mere farmer. The countess even listened to her serfs; she was certain to listen to a free tenant.
And true, there was always a price, but I had spoken with Mikael Bolender once, and he had admitted, flushing a little for some reason, that it hadn't been bad at all. He had even shown me the scars, and told me that the townspeople often petitioned the countess and wore the scars like marks of favor. That said, townspeople were a little strange.
"When are you planning to go?" My mother asked shakily, knowing the matter was already decided.
"I will go tomorrow evening. Ulrich is going to bring the taxes to the castle. I'll take a ride on his wagon."
My mother nodded. "That Ulrich... he doesn't fear the countess either, or her household," she said, though I wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.
The next evening, I'd put on my best clothes - a tunic dyed bright red reaching my knees, together with simple woolen hose, as was the fashion at court. I wore good leather boots - only secondhand. Knowing it was rather chilly outside, I also wore a loose woolen robe that I had bought in the market the very month before.
I trudged my way towards Ulrich's house. I had to pass by our fields and then the much larger holdings of the Kossmanns. I took a moment to spit on their field, but there were still workers doing the planting and I was afraid they'd seen me so I increased my pace.
When I finally came up to his house, he was still loading the cart with goods from the taxes.
Ulrich was the only one near the village of Bruglen brave enough to ride all the way to the castle and deliver the taxes, at least out of those with a cart. He didn't do it for free though, and some people cursed him for doing nothing and pocketing more than his due. On the other hand, no one was eager to take his place.
He was a man of thirty six, twice windowed. He had two daughters, both already married, and so his home was rather lonely.
I called to him in greeting and he waved back, resuming his work. When I came closer to the cart I started helping him without a word - he wasn't charging for my own trip, so I felt I should help.
He clasped my hand when we were done. "Thank you, boy," he nodded. "I think I have a spare hunk of cheese somewhere arounds. You'll probably be thankful for it before long."
"Eighteen summers make me a man grown, Ulrich," I frowned. "Thank you for the cheese though."
"Well, certainly a man who ought to be wedded," he remarked, not unkindly.
I shrugged, not liking the question. In truth, I didn't want to marry anyone. I was tall and solidly built, with a shock of long blonde hair that reached the nape of my neck. In the summer, I'd seen girls watching me as I tilled the fields, working without a tunic under the beating sun. I didn't mind, but at the same time I felt little satisfaction. There was always something missing, something I couldn't name, without which the idea of intimacy seemed pointless.
I hadn't always been that way. When I was young, I had adored Christa Basinger. She was the daughter of Stephan and Mara Basinger who rented a plot of land almost as large as the Kossmanns'. They owned half a dozen cows, and Christa made the best cheese anywhere near Bruglen.
She had been a tall, black-eyed girl with messy dark hair that always got in her eyes. We had played together since before I can remember. Each day with her was a new adventure. We fought monsters, climbed trees, saved kingdoms, and were knighted thrice over.
At some point, our games became a little different. I recalled the childish shiver of excitement when our lips met the first time. We'd been fighting a duel and I'd slipped on some leaves. She offered me a hand and pulled me up to my feet. She must have pulled too hard, because we ended up tangled together, our faces embarrassingly close. She crossed the distance, lips pressing against mine, bold as ever.
Life wasn't as simple as a childhood fancy, however. Our parents - or rather Christa's parents - hadn't approved of the match, and that was that. She had married Torben Flügel two years ago, and bore him their first son. I had been to their wedding. I thought she'd seemed happy, but we didn't speak. I'd still been a little in love.
I couldn't tell Ulrich any of that, though. "You know how complicated everything is back at the farm," I said. "I can't marry yet, not when mother and father need my help."
"Well, that's true enough... If it's gotten so bad you have to go see the countess," he said.
It was obvious we had to depart by the deepening darkness, and I was glad to drop that conversation. I helped Ulrich hitch his mule to the cart and tried to find a comfortable place to sit, between bundles of leather, fur, cheese, flour, and oil.
After a few minutes, Ulrich produced the promised hunk of cheese, together with a piece of bread. The cheese was good, and I could tell Christa had made it.
"Have you ever met the countess?" I asked between bites.
"Not really. I saw her from a distance, but only once," he said wistfully.
"What did you think of her?"
"Oh, just that she was the most beautiful woman in the world," he replied. "And the most dangerous one too."
I chewed on that for a few moments. "Did she look any different? From humans, I mean?"
"She was as pale as snow, but they say all the nobles are like that. Wherever she walked, men dropped what they were doing and just stared. Some women too, she was that beautiful," he recounted. "That's all I can tell you. Anyway, you will receive an audience. When I next see you, I expect
you
to tell me all about her."
"Don't worry, Ulrich. I'll be back soon enough," I said a little more confidently than I felt.
Everyone knew the countess never killed anyone, except for bandits or deserters. But everyone also whispered about strange disappearances in the same breath, never quite stating they thought the countess was responsible.
It took a few hours until we finally reached the rise that led to the castle. It was huge, built of towering gray stone with a great canal and a lowered drawbridge. The walls looked three meters thick, topped by crannelations and occupied by dozens of men. It was a little frightening by itself.
We stopped by the lowered drawbridge, behind two more carts. The twilight was a perfect time for business, since both the countess and the merchants were awake, so I wasn't surprised to see others waiting in line.
One of the footmen approached us. He quickly recognized Ulrich and clasped his hand warmly.
"Good evening, Ernst," Ulrich told the footman.
Ernst nodded. "You too. The taxes, I take it?" He asked, glancing at the cart.
Ulrich nodded. "The usual."
"Didn't know the lady takes boys as well," he said, gesturing at me.
Ulrich chuckled. "No, he is a petitioner. Wants to see the lady about a matter."
That seemed to surprise the guard, and he looked me up and down. "You know the price, boy?" He asked.
"I know the price," I nodded.
"Well, you're a little young, but I hear the lady likes 'em young," the man said with an ugly grin.
Ulrich smacked him with his stick and the man jumped back out of range.
"Sorry, sorry," the footman laughed. "Don't worry, boy. Lots of stories about the mistress, but she has always done right by me and everyone in her keep," he said with a friendlier grin.
It took another fifteen minutes until our cart was cleared, and by that time two more had stopped just behind us. Ulrich drove into the keep in silence.
The keep stood taller than the walls. It was surrounded by circular towers, flags waving from each one. I didn't really know most of them, but I knew the countess's sigil - a shield bearing a sword, a bat, a shield, and a star. I thought one of them was for the kingdom and the other for the empire, but I wasn't certain. I wasn't even sure what an empire was.
There were more armed men inside the walls, most of them wearing coats dotted with metal rivets - some kind of armor, I knew. One or two wore heavy-looking mail underneath colorful tabards. I heard the distant sound of a smithy, the rhythmic banging echoing between the walls.
Ulrich drove until we were next to a small building of white stone and stepped off his seat. He fed the mule on a carrot and patted its neck, whispering to it softly.
