~BHM, ~FFA, ~Sex, Supernatural - Anna gets more than she expected when her car breaks down in the Transylvanian wilderness.
Knock
Knock
The thuds shook through the heavy wooden door and stirred the dusty air inside. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling and walls as if the huge hall inside had not been disturbed in years. There was only darkness and the faint sound of rain cascading against the door now, the person behind the door waiting for some kind of response. Inside, the walls were decorated in what used to be deep burgundy flock wallpaper with golden detail but was now worn away and covered in grime. Time had taken its toll on this place.
Everything inside the hallway was silent, and up the spiders-web encrusted staircase that lay to the rear of the hallway, and the adjoining doors of which there were four visible. Looming over this hall was a great crystal chandelier although all its shining splendor had long since deserted it. It was clearly a home of the upper class, a great residence that had once commanded power and reverence, now it was a forgotten wreck.
Knock
Knock
Knock
More knocks came through the weighty oak door and echoed through the hall and the four doors inside. Through three of these was nothing to display even a modicum of activity, but through the fourth was a slight noise to indicate life. The door itself was just like the others, made from luxurious dark wood but covered in the effects of time. Dressed in cobwebs it had been undisturbed for many decades but some of these silken webs now swayed back and forth in front of a small opening. The door had been left ajar.
The echoes from the knocking at the door squeeze through the gap as short drafts of air pass the other way. Beyond the opening the room expanded wide and high into a magnificent spectacle, a giant room of grandiose proportions certainly meant to impress anyone that inhabited it. All around the room were hanging extravagant paintings and tapestries depicting people of note but all were obscured by layers of dust. There were four windows letting in just a tiny amount of light from the outside, they were large leaded panes with a thick coating of grime on the inside where the current rainstorm couldn’t touch it.
Little in the centre of the room could be seen, that was until a shuddering lightning strike snapped through the air and provided a brief moment of illumination. The gothic looking décor of the room was decadent and housed that most indulgent of rooms, a banquet hall. Such was displayed by the enormous table spanning almost the length of the room, made from oak and with a number of silver candlesticks intricately laid out. All of this was, of course, under a blanket of spiders’ web.
Knock
Knock
Knock
With this third booming cry for attention a sight of some interest emerged at the very end of the table closest to the door. There appeared to be an object laid on the ground, a large wooden box around seven feet long and a robust three and a half feet wide. As it sat on the ground without a single motion there came a scratching from inside, only slightly audible but gradually gaining strength. Soon the top of this six sided box began to move to the side, ever so slowly until a small nook appeared leading to the inside. Creeping slowly through that slit came four chubby, sausage like fingers that caressed the edge of the wooden top as if feeling something for the first time in years. They were pale, almost white in hue as they then grasped the edge and pushed it to the side, sending the cover to the floor with a crash and a cloud of dust.
With this noise the box was finally open and revealed the contents; a very large man dressed extremely formally, pale skinned and almost motionless except for his right hand which now grasped the wall of the sinister container. There was no warning as suddenly the near 300lbs body rose from its bed as if it was a plank of wood pulled from the ground. He levitated effortlessly to a vertical base until he could stand straight. Fully erect, he stood around 6’1, dressed in a faultless tuxedo with a deep red cummerbund and gleaming polished leather shoes. Also a black cape cascading down his back to the top of his calves. His hair, while reasonably short, was slicked back and jet black in appearance. The features of his face were plump and filled out, though somehow stern and unforgiving. His eyes were still firmly closed.
Knock
Knock
Knock
Knock
Growing more desperate the knocking was harder and faster this time and the slightly pointed ears of this man pricked up at the noise. His eyelids flicked up as if he was suddenly brought to life and revealed a pair of black irises tinged with a reddish glow when caught in the right light. Having heard the knocking at the door he took a moment to scan the area around him; the table that seemed to go on forever, the many portraits, the gothic windows revealing the stormy night sky. These sights were familiar to him as a sly grin almost crept onto his mouth but was pushed back by his strict demeanor.
Tentatively this man lifts one of his legs and carefully moves it over the wall of his coffin shaped box and down again onto the ground. Following it with the other leg he stood to the side of the box and draped the cape over his right arm elegantly, and then he began to walk toward to the noise at the door with the utmost composure. Once he set his gaze on the door he did not alter it, making his way methodically in that direction until he was able to set his hand on the heavy oak. Coming to a halt he lifted his left hand and pressed it against the textured dusty surface, savoring every touch as if it could be his last. Sliding his hand across the wood he left a trail in the dust before opening the door further and walking through into the entrance hall.
With one solitary movement of the hand, the sinister looking figure wiped away the cobwebs between the door and its frame and walked on. Passing into the entrance hall he shifted his gaze to the front door this time and slightly increased his pace. Underneath the crystal chandelier that was coated in tiny strands of silk he walked and neared the door. His expressions hadn’t changed at all, still neutral and stuck in place. As he walked his large belly shifted from side to side and his thick, flabby thighs quivered back and forth. He was a very large man, and his body moved as such, but still he maintained an air of grace that was almost otherworldly.
Stopping in front of the door he could hear the rain outside as though each drop was a bang of a drum. Calmly he reached out to the dirty brass door handle and turned it slowly before a large clunk revealed the door was open. Inch by slow inch the door began to creep open and reveal the scene outside; the heavy woods all around, the single track road that lead up to the great building through the trees, the sky of grey and black and finally the young woman stood directly of front of him with her hand poised for another distressed rap on the door.
This attractive woman’s head was down as if she barely expected anybody to open the door. She was dressed far less formally and in far more modern attire; a low cut black t-shirt and a pair of boot-cut light blue jeans and a pair of women’s moccasins. Soaked to the bone, she was shivering intensely. As her blonde-haired head was bowed there suddenly came another crash of thunder and spark of lightning that startled her and jolted her head upwards. Shocked, she saw this man stood in front of her and behind him there was no decrepit interior. Instead the entrance hall was lit by the spectacular chandelier, the wallpaper was no longer rotted away but pristine and vivid with its burgundy and gold hues, everything was spotless and the man stood with a haunting smile that had mysterious appeared on his face.
“Hello, my dear” The man spoke with a distinct eastern European accent, slowly and methodically yet spoke English extremely well. “How can I help you?”
“My car broke down just down the road, could I use your….” As the young woman spoke with a distinct American accent, her sparkling blue eyes drifted past this ominous grinning figure and into the entrance hall of his grand property. It looked old, beyond old, and yet meticulously well kept. While this was indeed alluring to her soaked and frozen skin there was one thing worrying her; the building seemed so old it was doubtful this smiling individual even owned telephone. “…..phone.”
For a few moments the man simply stood there, his eyes making momentary movements as if to measure the woman. He thought her attractive, shimmering with the exuberance of youth despite her disheveled appearance. She looked, to him, delicious. Likewise she stared back at the obese figure in the doorway, his belly almost held back from bursting out of his shirt by the deep red cummerbund. He held himself perfectly, bolt upright and showing off the curves of his body. His thick thighs filled the entrance, giving little space to squeeze past at all. As they both stood there, the woman dwelled on the thought he may not even own a phone and felt her hopes of salvation dwindle by the side of the road like her car had done. It was then that he finally replied.
“Yes, of course, come inside.” With that the grinning man stepped to the side and ushered the young lady inside his residence. There was a second of hesitation as she took a step forward, the grin ever-present on his face and perhaps getting slightly stronger as she moved closer. Out of the rain she came and the feeling of relief swept over her shoulders as they were no longer forced into the ground by the torrent of droplets. The drips from her saturated clothing hit the stone floor and echoed all around the room.
As she stood in this stunning environment, very rich in its design, the heavy oak door slammed shut with a shuddering crash. This chilled her skin even more and she looked back at the man who turned to her with the perpetual smirk and looked her up and down once more. “You are chilled to the bone, follow me.”
Before the sodden blonde could say a word, the overly formal man walked off to the left of the room and toward the door he had walked through earlier. His rotund form strode to the door and opened it with an equally gentle caress as he had when he left the room previously, then he paced forward with great poise into the room. As she heard his footsteps she called out as if he had misunderstood her words before. “I’d really just like to use your phone.”
There was no reply from the other room and the young woman looked around at her lavish surroundings once more. The entrance hall was lit spectacularly from above and brought out the magnificent coloring of the burgundy and gold wallpaper, the ornate staircase at the rear of the hall, and sparked her curiosity as to what was on the other side of that door. Even the man himself seemed to be built to opulent proportions, she thought. Hesitantly she took a step forward, her inquisitiveness pulling her toward the door. Step by step she approached and leaked around the door to see inside the room. There was no man in sight, but the scene inside astounded her.
Lit by the many silver candlesticks, the room was just as immaculate as the entrance hall without a hint of filth. The portraits hung on the wall above the table were resplendent in their clarity and color, the windows are clear as crystal and showing the violent night sky but it was the table itself that took her attention. Upon the expansive table was laid a vast quantity of gastronomic delights; all varieties of meat and poultry in their succulent glory, all manner of accompaniments, many delicious desserts and large goblets of sweet wine. The scene in front of her was astounding.
Walking into the room extremely reluctantly as if she was undeserving of being in such a place, the woman continued to stare around in awe. It was then that she spotted the ominous, robust figure of the man at the closest end of the table, pulling out one of the equally well-crafted chairs for her to be seated. The thought ran through her head that she had arrived at a time when this man was putting on a lavish party for his many friends, but what an odd time it was for such a party. “I’m sorry, you’re expecting guests, I don’t want to be an inconvenience…”
“Nonsense…” The man spoke with his voice reverberating around the cavernous hall, the echoes only helping to accentuate the unique tone of his voice. “I have not entertained guests in a long time. Now sit, please.”
He said it in such a way she could not refuse and slowly she walked along the table of culinary pleasures, many of which were unknown even to a lady of her tastes. The smells that meandered toward her were heavenly, truly irresistible as much as his voice, and it took all her power to continue forward and not veer off sideways. As she walked her eyes drifted up to the man again and noticed almost instinctively that his hefty gut was rested on the back of the chair. It was a strange thing to be thinking of at this time, but she couldn’t help admiring his girth. The closer she got the more impressive it seemed; his belly ran perfectly into his bulbous hips and climbed into two divine bulges on his upper chest.
Closer and closer she got and held back a quiver of her bottom lip, it could have been the cold seeping through her clothes but she doubted it. Now just a couple of feet away she gave a last glance at the man before moving to take the seat he had offered. As she sat a waft of a certain musk invaded her nostrils, pushing on and filling her senses as nothing had before. It was not from the food in front of her but from behind her.
With the utmost etiquette the still grinning man slid the medieval looking chair under her well defined behind walked around to her right. Sat in unbelieving silence at her situation the woman took a few moments to lift her gaze up and to the side. Once she had the man in sight, he spoke. “You may stay here and help yourself to food and wine, I will find a towel for you to dry off.”
He turned to walk out of the door the two had entered from but as he attempted to walk away the woman stopped him with her words. “Could I just use your phone, please?”
Stopping in his tracks the man half turned and looked back over his bulky shoulder. For a brief second the smile had disappeared until he lifted the corners of his mouth again. “Please get warm first, and then you may use the phone.” Again the man turned to leave and procure something for the woman to dry herself with but her questions would not cease at that point.
“What’s your name? I never asked and you’re being so…hospitable.” Hesitating to finish the sentence as she wasn’t sure if this much food and fancy was exactly what she’d call hospitality, the woman looked earnestly toward him for a response. It was then she caught sight of the rippling mass within his trousers, the two large succulent hemispheres of his behind. Even through the cloth it was begging her to sink her fingertips into it. As he jerked in place, having barely motioned to leave this time, he didn’t look back but spoke in a tone he knew she would heard.
“My name is…Count Dracula.” With that The Count turned to leave once more, flicking the cape off his arm and disappearing behind the plume of pitch black cloth. Toward the door he went in a so far uncharacteristically swift manner, his immense form vanishing behind the door with only a few threads of his cloak visible when after afterthought flew from the young woman’s lips.
“I’m Anna!” She called out loudly to the nobleman who had now completely disappeared with not a hint of footsteps. There was no indication of whether he had heard Anna’s call or not and now she was alone in this most grandiose of settings. The silence that surrounded her was only broken by the extremely faint noise of the rain still pounding at the huge windows. Clouded over, the sky was still dull and foreboding although the vague outline of the moon was just visible through the gloom.
Anna’s eyes drifted around the room and around the walls but inevitably her eyes returned to the great feast in front of her. It seemed an impossible amount of food, especially as it was there for just him and now apparently her. Even with the man being as large as he was it was hard to see him consuming that volume of food, although Anna had to admit it may have been an appealing sight to see him try. His swollen belly was already alluring but watching it get larger as he ate would be mesmerizing.
There was an appeal, Anna thought, about this man that she couldn’t put her finger on; an enigmatic charisma behind the forthright exterior. Even now she could smell his scent, that musk she had imbibed while sitting, and felt as though it had transfused into her blood. It was hard to ignore for even a second, just as his reddish eyes were too, and his graceful demeanor. In fact, everything about him was extremely difficult to remove from the front of her mind. Truthfully he was everything she had been seeking on her holiday and more.
Feeling her coldness and the pit growing in her stomach, Anna reluctantly reached out and prodded a slice of roast beef with a silver fork that had been provided. The portion of meat dropped onto an expensive looking china plate and was followed shortly by three potatoes all skewered on the same fork. From there she picked up a sauceboat of thick velvety jus and poured a coating over the meat. Taking up the fork and knife at the sides of her plate she felt the weight they had, clearly real silver, and began to cut through the tender beef. Lifting the portion up to her mouth she sank her teeth into the flesh and let the flavor wash over her taste buds. There in that mouthful she found an explosion of robust and consuming flavors that was more than she had ever experienced. It was the juiciest, most delicious beef she had ever tasted.
Finding herself compelled to eat more she cut through one of the jus coated potatoes and peered at the soft, fluffy interior it revealed. As the jus slowly soaked into the porous potato, Anna jabbed it with her fork and devoured it. The warming feeling of the food slipped down her throat and into her stomach, and as its warmth spread throughout her she felt another sensation. It was nothing of taste or appetite, but more an intoxication as all Anna’s senses seemed to heighten.
As she continued to eat in hope of continuing the unusual intoxication her eyes drifted around the room and picked out numerous details. The lower section of the wall, at eye level, was comprised of wood cladding. It was a deep walnut, varnished to become even darker. Above this level was the bare stone wall that had the many paintings hung upon it. Anna scanned these pictures one by one; the first of a man dressed in extremely old clothes and a home very similar to the one she was in right now. Looking over the picture she notices a distinct similarity between the man and her current host although the pictured individual is far smaller, perhaps around 180lbs though the painting could easily have been inaccurate.
Anna moved along to the next picture, this time of an extremely similar figure, slightly bigger this time, standing in the grounds of the grand building. He held a similar upright and proper posture to the Count with the same pitch black hair. Perhaps a descendent, a dead ringer of one. As the paintings became gradually more modern and accurate the lone man in each became larger and larger, the family apparently growing more opulent as time went on. Every man in the pictures had vaguely the same features; the black hair, erect disposition, piercing eyes and strange haunting handsomeness. Indeed, to Anna, the men seemed to become progressively more attractive as their size increased and she couldn’t help but imagine the wonders that resided underneath their plus-sized tuxedos.
Lost in deep thought with this fantasizing, Anna was deaf and blind to the world. The pictures held her attention and her mind drifted into visions of rolling oceans of voluptuous flesh, sinking her hands into deliciously tactile body parts, and gaining a level of satisfaction she had seldom experienced before. She had come here to escape from civilization, enjoy the raw nature of life, but all the while she had missed the pleasures of men that matched her desires. It seemed there were very few in the detached wilderness of the Transylvanian countryside that met the criteria to satiate her needs. Now having found one that could perhaps do this, her mind was overcome with unclean thoughts of passion and lust.
Suddenly from behind her came a hand, a thick powerful hand that clamped down on Anna’s shoulder sending a shock down her spine the likes of which she had never seen before. A shriek of surprise and fright sliced through the air as she span around to see the source of the hand. Wracked with a sense of terror she turned to see a tall dark figure standing like an obelisk behind her, extending their other hand.
“A towel, my dear.” The eastern European accent came forth with complete deadpan delivery, calm as the proverbial cucumber. The Count stood with his left hand recoiled from her shoulder and his right extended with a burgundy towel. Anna stared first at the towel, then at the Count and attempted to refocus herself. The man had appeared as if out of the blue, scaring her with no warning or sound he was growing close.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Anna tried to compose herself, her senses caught between fright and pure pleasure in that split second. She hadn’t heard a single footstep as he had approached, but was nevertheless thankful to see the towel which she took slowly from his hand. Immediately she was struck by how soft and warm it was in her hands, though was sure certain things about the man in front of her would be softer to press against her skin. “Thank you.”
With a slow nod of his head, the Count turned to look at the path he must have taken to reach that spot; back along the table, around the chair in which Anna had sat and then back toward the door. His eyes stopped half way through this route, however, as his reddish eyes picked up the plate that had the remaining roast beef, jus and potato upon it. Methodically he returned his eyes to his guest, only to see her drying off her slender, beautiful body. The subtle curves of her figure flexed as she dried each athletic, delicately tanned limb. Her attractive physique appealed to him very much but he reverted to conversation to draw attention from his stares. “You have eaten.”
“Oh…yes, just a little bit.” Anna answered as she hesitantly ruffled her clearly well-kept hair with the towel, revealing the subtle bulges beneath her black t-shirt, undulating slightly as she moved. She seemed completely unaware of this and the Count maintained his neutral exterior, perhaps concerning himself with thoughts other than this woman’s beauty.
“Please, eat more. You must be tired. You need your strength.” He motioned to the food on the expansive table, implying that Anna should partake in more of these treats, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. The warmth and softness of the towel had further enhanced her feeling of pleasant inebriation, as though it soaked up her fear and trepidation along with the water.
“I’m ok now. Actually the paintings caught my attention.” Pointing behind her at the hanging paintings, Anna guided the Count’s eyes upwards. He scanned each of the many pictures and the gradually larger men just as she had, a look of familiarity washing across his face as he did. The curiosity within Anna couldn’t help one inquiry regarding the identity of the men and their resemblance to the one in front of her. She let the towel drop to her side and spoke to him. “They look very similar to you.”
“Ah…” spoke the Count as for the first time he showed a momentary lack of comfort. Perhaps these images conjured unpleasant memories, thought Anna. Nostalgia could swing both ways after all. But after that brief moment he settled back into his previous disposition and took a step forward to get a closer look. Here his expression turned from familiarity to real recognition of the people and placed in the pictures. “Mementos of memories long forgotten.”
Standing just in front of Anna, so close she could smell that infatuating scent once more, the Count gazed up at the pictures as if he himself could remember moment the painting was forged. Once more he extended his hand, almost reaching to grab hold of the moment encapsulated in the very first picture. Reacting to this, Anna turned once again to look at the picture, taking her eyes from the Count’s plump and sumptuous body.
“This castle has been in my family for generations. My own memories stretch back longer than I care to remember.” His eyes met those in the first picture, both with the reddish glow, as though the Count was looking at himself in a mirror. It was impossible, thought Anna, as the average sized man and his living counterpart were roughly the same age and yet the picture was seemingly hundreds of years old.
“You’re not that old…” Anna sought to reassure the oddly handsome and utterly sensual Count, but as she finished all she heard was a slight note of laughter. It appeared the Count was amused by the comment though Anna couldn’t understand why. Slowly the Count’s arm dropped back to his side. In his closeness to her he could practically taste the sweetness of her skin, the desire to sink his hands and more into this skin was all encompassing.
“Appearances can be deceiving.” The comment was vague and seemed to echo throughout the great hall as if it came from everywhere. Anna felt a chill run down her spine and turned to look into the face of the Count to see if he was merely joking. Once she turned, however, the Count was gone. She could still smell his irresistible musk but all other signs of his presence had vanished.
“Count?” Anna called out timidly. He had crept up on her before in such an accomplished manner that perhaps, she thought, he had left the same way too. But she had only just witnessed his arm disappear behind her. There was no way he could have reached the door in such a short time. It was as though he had evaporated into some spectral form, a thought that frightened the young woman into calling his name once more. “Count…are you there?”
“How long it has been since I have had such…appealing company.” The haunting voice fell from the high rafters as if from the night sky itself. It was the voice of the Count, this was unmistakable, but it came from no visible source. Scared by this disembodied and disturbing statement, Anna began to step backwards, dropping the moist towel to the floor in alarm. Her eyes darted from one side of the immense room to the other, searching frantically for the curvaceous body of the Count but it was nowhere to be seen. Step by step she backed toward the wall, tentative footsteps making almost a shuffling noise.
Unsure where the wall was behind her, Anna lowered her hands and placed them behind her facing back, hopeful they would give her ample warning before her back hit the solid wooden surface. Scanning the whole room in panic, she approached the wall an inch at a time until finally she felt something at her fingertips. A wall? No, she thought, too soft. Unable to stop herself she took one more step back into this yielding mass and was overawed with the scent of the Count once more. She felt panic course through her body but couldn’t force herself to move as she sank further into his more than ample belly. She was immediately intoxicated by his presence, unable to fight the mystical attraction she had toward the feeling of his body against hers.
Lowering his head to her shoulder, the Count closed his eyes and calmly took in the divine fragrance of the young woman in his possession. He lifted his hands and pressed them against her arms, firm enough to hold her in place but not enough to hurt. She didn’t fight; instead she sank further into him, the rippling rolls of fat caressing her skin through the still soaked t-shirt. Satisfied she was still and not in a position to escape, The Count loosened his grip and moved his hands from Anna’s arms to her smooth sides. As he did this, her backward facing hands felt his belly and began to squeeze this flesh to her immense delight. She was in pure ecstasy.
To be continued in next post...
The Count
By Rellis10
Knock
Knock
The thuds shook through the heavy wooden door and stirred the dusty air inside. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling and walls as if the huge hall inside had not been disturbed in years. There was only darkness and the faint sound of rain cascading against the door now, the person behind the door waiting for some kind of response. Inside, the walls were decorated in what used to be deep burgundy flock wallpaper with golden detail but was now worn away and covered in grime. Time had taken its toll on this place.
Everything inside the hallway was silent, and up the spiders-web encrusted staircase that lay to the rear of the hallway, and the adjoining doors of which there were four visible. Looming over this hall was a great crystal chandelier although all its shining splendor had long since deserted it. It was clearly a home of the upper class, a great residence that had once commanded power and reverence, now it was a forgotten wreck.
Knock
Knock
Knock
More knocks came through the weighty oak door and echoed through the hall and the four doors inside. Through three of these was nothing to display even a modicum of activity, but through the fourth was a slight noise to indicate life. The door itself was just like the others, made from luxurious dark wood but covered in the effects of time. Dressed in cobwebs it had been undisturbed for many decades but some of these silken webs now swayed back and forth in front of a small opening. The door had been left ajar.
The echoes from the knocking at the door squeeze through the gap as short drafts of air pass the other way. Beyond the opening the room expanded wide and high into a magnificent spectacle, a giant room of grandiose proportions certainly meant to impress anyone that inhabited it. All around the room were hanging extravagant paintings and tapestries depicting people of note but all were obscured by layers of dust. There were four windows letting in just a tiny amount of light from the outside, they were large leaded panes with a thick coating of grime on the inside where the current rainstorm couldn’t touch it.
Little in the centre of the room could be seen, that was until a shuddering lightning strike snapped through the air and provided a brief moment of illumination. The gothic looking décor of the room was decadent and housed that most indulgent of rooms, a banquet hall. Such was displayed by the enormous table spanning almost the length of the room, made from oak and with a number of silver candlesticks intricately laid out. All of this was, of course, under a blanket of spiders’ web.
Knock
Knock
Knock
With this third booming cry for attention a sight of some interest emerged at the very end of the table closest to the door. There appeared to be an object laid on the ground, a large wooden box around seven feet long and a robust three and a half feet wide. As it sat on the ground without a single motion there came a scratching from inside, only slightly audible but gradually gaining strength. Soon the top of this six sided box began to move to the side, ever so slowly until a small nook appeared leading to the inside. Creeping slowly through that slit came four chubby, sausage like fingers that caressed the edge of the wooden top as if feeling something for the first time in years. They were pale, almost white in hue as they then grasped the edge and pushed it to the side, sending the cover to the floor with a crash and a cloud of dust.
With this noise the box was finally open and revealed the contents; a very large man dressed extremely formally, pale skinned and almost motionless except for his right hand which now grasped the wall of the sinister container. There was no warning as suddenly the near 300lbs body rose from its bed as if it was a plank of wood pulled from the ground. He levitated effortlessly to a vertical base until he could stand straight. Fully erect, he stood around 6’1, dressed in a faultless tuxedo with a deep red cummerbund and gleaming polished leather shoes. Also a black cape cascading down his back to the top of his calves. His hair, while reasonably short, was slicked back and jet black in appearance. The features of his face were plump and filled out, though somehow stern and unforgiving. His eyes were still firmly closed.
Knock
Knock
Knock
Knock
Growing more desperate the knocking was harder and faster this time and the slightly pointed ears of this man pricked up at the noise. His eyelids flicked up as if he was suddenly brought to life and revealed a pair of black irises tinged with a reddish glow when caught in the right light. Having heard the knocking at the door he took a moment to scan the area around him; the table that seemed to go on forever, the many portraits, the gothic windows revealing the stormy night sky. These sights were familiar to him as a sly grin almost crept onto his mouth but was pushed back by his strict demeanor.
Tentatively this man lifts one of his legs and carefully moves it over the wall of his coffin shaped box and down again onto the ground. Following it with the other leg he stood to the side of the box and draped the cape over his right arm elegantly, and then he began to walk toward to the noise at the door with the utmost composure. Once he set his gaze on the door he did not alter it, making his way methodically in that direction until he was able to set his hand on the heavy oak. Coming to a halt he lifted his left hand and pressed it against the textured dusty surface, savoring every touch as if it could be his last. Sliding his hand across the wood he left a trail in the dust before opening the door further and walking through into the entrance hall.
With one solitary movement of the hand, the sinister looking figure wiped away the cobwebs between the door and its frame and walked on. Passing into the entrance hall he shifted his gaze to the front door this time and slightly increased his pace. Underneath the crystal chandelier that was coated in tiny strands of silk he walked and neared the door. His expressions hadn’t changed at all, still neutral and stuck in place. As he walked his large belly shifted from side to side and his thick, flabby thighs quivered back and forth. He was a very large man, and his body moved as such, but still he maintained an air of grace that was almost otherworldly.
Stopping in front of the door he could hear the rain outside as though each drop was a bang of a drum. Calmly he reached out to the dirty brass door handle and turned it slowly before a large clunk revealed the door was open. Inch by slow inch the door began to creep open and reveal the scene outside; the heavy woods all around, the single track road that lead up to the great building through the trees, the sky of grey and black and finally the young woman stood directly of front of him with her hand poised for another distressed rap on the door.
This attractive woman’s head was down as if she barely expected anybody to open the door. She was dressed far less formally and in far more modern attire; a low cut black t-shirt and a pair of boot-cut light blue jeans and a pair of women’s moccasins. Soaked to the bone, she was shivering intensely. As her blonde-haired head was bowed there suddenly came another crash of thunder and spark of lightning that startled her and jolted her head upwards. Shocked, she saw this man stood in front of her and behind him there was no decrepit interior. Instead the entrance hall was lit by the spectacular chandelier, the wallpaper was no longer rotted away but pristine and vivid with its burgundy and gold hues, everything was spotless and the man stood with a haunting smile that had mysterious appeared on his face.
“Hello, my dear” The man spoke with a distinct eastern European accent, slowly and methodically yet spoke English extremely well. “How can I help you?”
“My car broke down just down the road, could I use your….” As the young woman spoke with a distinct American accent, her sparkling blue eyes drifted past this ominous grinning figure and into the entrance hall of his grand property. It looked old, beyond old, and yet meticulously well kept. While this was indeed alluring to her soaked and frozen skin there was one thing worrying her; the building seemed so old it was doubtful this smiling individual even owned telephone. “…..phone.”
For a few moments the man simply stood there, his eyes making momentary movements as if to measure the woman. He thought her attractive, shimmering with the exuberance of youth despite her disheveled appearance. She looked, to him, delicious. Likewise she stared back at the obese figure in the doorway, his belly almost held back from bursting out of his shirt by the deep red cummerbund. He held himself perfectly, bolt upright and showing off the curves of his body. His thick thighs filled the entrance, giving little space to squeeze past at all. As they both stood there, the woman dwelled on the thought he may not even own a phone and felt her hopes of salvation dwindle by the side of the road like her car had done. It was then that he finally replied.
“Yes, of course, come inside.” With that the grinning man stepped to the side and ushered the young lady inside his residence. There was a second of hesitation as she took a step forward, the grin ever-present on his face and perhaps getting slightly stronger as she moved closer. Out of the rain she came and the feeling of relief swept over her shoulders as they were no longer forced into the ground by the torrent of droplets. The drips from her saturated clothing hit the stone floor and echoed all around the room.
As she stood in this stunning environment, very rich in its design, the heavy oak door slammed shut with a shuddering crash. This chilled her skin even more and she looked back at the man who turned to her with the perpetual smirk and looked her up and down once more. “You are chilled to the bone, follow me.”
Before the sodden blonde could say a word, the overly formal man walked off to the left of the room and toward the door he had walked through earlier. His rotund form strode to the door and opened it with an equally gentle caress as he had when he left the room previously, then he paced forward with great poise into the room. As she heard his footsteps she called out as if he had misunderstood her words before. “I’d really just like to use your phone.”
There was no reply from the other room and the young woman looked around at her lavish surroundings once more. The entrance hall was lit spectacularly from above and brought out the magnificent coloring of the burgundy and gold wallpaper, the ornate staircase at the rear of the hall, and sparked her curiosity as to what was on the other side of that door. Even the man himself seemed to be built to opulent proportions, she thought. Hesitantly she took a step forward, her inquisitiveness pulling her toward the door. Step by step she approached and leaked around the door to see inside the room. There was no man in sight, but the scene inside astounded her.
Lit by the many silver candlesticks, the room was just as immaculate as the entrance hall without a hint of filth. The portraits hung on the wall above the table were resplendent in their clarity and color, the windows are clear as crystal and showing the violent night sky but it was the table itself that took her attention. Upon the expansive table was laid a vast quantity of gastronomic delights; all varieties of meat and poultry in their succulent glory, all manner of accompaniments, many delicious desserts and large goblets of sweet wine. The scene in front of her was astounding.
Walking into the room extremely reluctantly as if she was undeserving of being in such a place, the woman continued to stare around in awe. It was then that she spotted the ominous, robust figure of the man at the closest end of the table, pulling out one of the equally well-crafted chairs for her to be seated. The thought ran through her head that she had arrived at a time when this man was putting on a lavish party for his many friends, but what an odd time it was for such a party. “I’m sorry, you’re expecting guests, I don’t want to be an inconvenience…”
“Nonsense…” The man spoke with his voice reverberating around the cavernous hall, the echoes only helping to accentuate the unique tone of his voice. “I have not entertained guests in a long time. Now sit, please.”
He said it in such a way she could not refuse and slowly she walked along the table of culinary pleasures, many of which were unknown even to a lady of her tastes. The smells that meandered toward her were heavenly, truly irresistible as much as his voice, and it took all her power to continue forward and not veer off sideways. As she walked her eyes drifted up to the man again and noticed almost instinctively that his hefty gut was rested on the back of the chair. It was a strange thing to be thinking of at this time, but she couldn’t help admiring his girth. The closer she got the more impressive it seemed; his belly ran perfectly into his bulbous hips and climbed into two divine bulges on his upper chest.
Closer and closer she got and held back a quiver of her bottom lip, it could have been the cold seeping through her clothes but she doubted it. Now just a couple of feet away she gave a last glance at the man before moving to take the seat he had offered. As she sat a waft of a certain musk invaded her nostrils, pushing on and filling her senses as nothing had before. It was not from the food in front of her but from behind her.
With the utmost etiquette the still grinning man slid the medieval looking chair under her well defined behind walked around to her right. Sat in unbelieving silence at her situation the woman took a few moments to lift her gaze up and to the side. Once she had the man in sight, he spoke. “You may stay here and help yourself to food and wine, I will find a towel for you to dry off.”
He turned to walk out of the door the two had entered from but as he attempted to walk away the woman stopped him with her words. “Could I just use your phone, please?”
Stopping in his tracks the man half turned and looked back over his bulky shoulder. For a brief second the smile had disappeared until he lifted the corners of his mouth again. “Please get warm first, and then you may use the phone.” Again the man turned to leave and procure something for the woman to dry herself with but her questions would not cease at that point.
“What’s your name? I never asked and you’re being so…hospitable.” Hesitating to finish the sentence as she wasn’t sure if this much food and fancy was exactly what she’d call hospitality, the woman looked earnestly toward him for a response. It was then she caught sight of the rippling mass within his trousers, the two large succulent hemispheres of his behind. Even through the cloth it was begging her to sink her fingertips into it. As he jerked in place, having barely motioned to leave this time, he didn’t look back but spoke in a tone he knew she would heard.
“My name is…Count Dracula.” With that The Count turned to leave once more, flicking the cape off his arm and disappearing behind the plume of pitch black cloth. Toward the door he went in a so far uncharacteristically swift manner, his immense form vanishing behind the door with only a few threads of his cloak visible when after afterthought flew from the young woman’s lips.
“I’m Anna!” She called out loudly to the nobleman who had now completely disappeared with not a hint of footsteps. There was no indication of whether he had heard Anna’s call or not and now she was alone in this most grandiose of settings. The silence that surrounded her was only broken by the extremely faint noise of the rain still pounding at the huge windows. Clouded over, the sky was still dull and foreboding although the vague outline of the moon was just visible through the gloom.
Anna’s eyes drifted around the room and around the walls but inevitably her eyes returned to the great feast in front of her. It seemed an impossible amount of food, especially as it was there for just him and now apparently her. Even with the man being as large as he was it was hard to see him consuming that volume of food, although Anna had to admit it may have been an appealing sight to see him try. His swollen belly was already alluring but watching it get larger as he ate would be mesmerizing.
There was an appeal, Anna thought, about this man that she couldn’t put her finger on; an enigmatic charisma behind the forthright exterior. Even now she could smell his scent, that musk she had imbibed while sitting, and felt as though it had transfused into her blood. It was hard to ignore for even a second, just as his reddish eyes were too, and his graceful demeanor. In fact, everything about him was extremely difficult to remove from the front of her mind. Truthfully he was everything she had been seeking on her holiday and more.
Feeling her coldness and the pit growing in her stomach, Anna reluctantly reached out and prodded a slice of roast beef with a silver fork that had been provided. The portion of meat dropped onto an expensive looking china plate and was followed shortly by three potatoes all skewered on the same fork. From there she picked up a sauceboat of thick velvety jus and poured a coating over the meat. Taking up the fork and knife at the sides of her plate she felt the weight they had, clearly real silver, and began to cut through the tender beef. Lifting the portion up to her mouth she sank her teeth into the flesh and let the flavor wash over her taste buds. There in that mouthful she found an explosion of robust and consuming flavors that was more than she had ever experienced. It was the juiciest, most delicious beef she had ever tasted.
Finding herself compelled to eat more she cut through one of the jus coated potatoes and peered at the soft, fluffy interior it revealed. As the jus slowly soaked into the porous potato, Anna jabbed it with her fork and devoured it. The warming feeling of the food slipped down her throat and into her stomach, and as its warmth spread throughout her she felt another sensation. It was nothing of taste or appetite, but more an intoxication as all Anna’s senses seemed to heighten.
As she continued to eat in hope of continuing the unusual intoxication her eyes drifted around the room and picked out numerous details. The lower section of the wall, at eye level, was comprised of wood cladding. It was a deep walnut, varnished to become even darker. Above this level was the bare stone wall that had the many paintings hung upon it. Anna scanned these pictures one by one; the first of a man dressed in extremely old clothes and a home very similar to the one she was in right now. Looking over the picture she notices a distinct similarity between the man and her current host although the pictured individual is far smaller, perhaps around 180lbs though the painting could easily have been inaccurate.
Anna moved along to the next picture, this time of an extremely similar figure, slightly bigger this time, standing in the grounds of the grand building. He held a similar upright and proper posture to the Count with the same pitch black hair. Perhaps a descendent, a dead ringer of one. As the paintings became gradually more modern and accurate the lone man in each became larger and larger, the family apparently growing more opulent as time went on. Every man in the pictures had vaguely the same features; the black hair, erect disposition, piercing eyes and strange haunting handsomeness. Indeed, to Anna, the men seemed to become progressively more attractive as their size increased and she couldn’t help but imagine the wonders that resided underneath their plus-sized tuxedos.
Lost in deep thought with this fantasizing, Anna was deaf and blind to the world. The pictures held her attention and her mind drifted into visions of rolling oceans of voluptuous flesh, sinking her hands into deliciously tactile body parts, and gaining a level of satisfaction she had seldom experienced before. She had come here to escape from civilization, enjoy the raw nature of life, but all the while she had missed the pleasures of men that matched her desires. It seemed there were very few in the detached wilderness of the Transylvanian countryside that met the criteria to satiate her needs. Now having found one that could perhaps do this, her mind was overcome with unclean thoughts of passion and lust.
Suddenly from behind her came a hand, a thick powerful hand that clamped down on Anna’s shoulder sending a shock down her spine the likes of which she had never seen before. A shriek of surprise and fright sliced through the air as she span around to see the source of the hand. Wracked with a sense of terror she turned to see a tall dark figure standing like an obelisk behind her, extending their other hand.
“A towel, my dear.” The eastern European accent came forth with complete deadpan delivery, calm as the proverbial cucumber. The Count stood with his left hand recoiled from her shoulder and his right extended with a burgundy towel. Anna stared first at the towel, then at the Count and attempted to refocus herself. The man had appeared as if out of the blue, scaring her with no warning or sound he was growing close.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Anna tried to compose herself, her senses caught between fright and pure pleasure in that split second. She hadn’t heard a single footstep as he had approached, but was nevertheless thankful to see the towel which she took slowly from his hand. Immediately she was struck by how soft and warm it was in her hands, though was sure certain things about the man in front of her would be softer to press against her skin. “Thank you.”
With a slow nod of his head, the Count turned to look at the path he must have taken to reach that spot; back along the table, around the chair in which Anna had sat and then back toward the door. His eyes stopped half way through this route, however, as his reddish eyes picked up the plate that had the remaining roast beef, jus and potato upon it. Methodically he returned his eyes to his guest, only to see her drying off her slender, beautiful body. The subtle curves of her figure flexed as she dried each athletic, delicately tanned limb. Her attractive physique appealed to him very much but he reverted to conversation to draw attention from his stares. “You have eaten.”
“Oh…yes, just a little bit.” Anna answered as she hesitantly ruffled her clearly well-kept hair with the towel, revealing the subtle bulges beneath her black t-shirt, undulating slightly as she moved. She seemed completely unaware of this and the Count maintained his neutral exterior, perhaps concerning himself with thoughts other than this woman’s beauty.
“Please, eat more. You must be tired. You need your strength.” He motioned to the food on the expansive table, implying that Anna should partake in more of these treats, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. The warmth and softness of the towel had further enhanced her feeling of pleasant inebriation, as though it soaked up her fear and trepidation along with the water.
“I’m ok now. Actually the paintings caught my attention.” Pointing behind her at the hanging paintings, Anna guided the Count’s eyes upwards. He scanned each of the many pictures and the gradually larger men just as she had, a look of familiarity washing across his face as he did. The curiosity within Anna couldn’t help one inquiry regarding the identity of the men and their resemblance to the one in front of her. She let the towel drop to her side and spoke to him. “They look very similar to you.”
“Ah…” spoke the Count as for the first time he showed a momentary lack of comfort. Perhaps these images conjured unpleasant memories, thought Anna. Nostalgia could swing both ways after all. But after that brief moment he settled back into his previous disposition and took a step forward to get a closer look. Here his expression turned from familiarity to real recognition of the people and placed in the pictures. “Mementos of memories long forgotten.”
Standing just in front of Anna, so close she could smell that infatuating scent once more, the Count gazed up at the pictures as if he himself could remember moment the painting was forged. Once more he extended his hand, almost reaching to grab hold of the moment encapsulated in the very first picture. Reacting to this, Anna turned once again to look at the picture, taking her eyes from the Count’s plump and sumptuous body.
“This castle has been in my family for generations. My own memories stretch back longer than I care to remember.” His eyes met those in the first picture, both with the reddish glow, as though the Count was looking at himself in a mirror. It was impossible, thought Anna, as the average sized man and his living counterpart were roughly the same age and yet the picture was seemingly hundreds of years old.
“You’re not that old…” Anna sought to reassure the oddly handsome and utterly sensual Count, but as she finished all she heard was a slight note of laughter. It appeared the Count was amused by the comment though Anna couldn’t understand why. Slowly the Count’s arm dropped back to his side. In his closeness to her he could practically taste the sweetness of her skin, the desire to sink his hands and more into this skin was all encompassing.
“Appearances can be deceiving.” The comment was vague and seemed to echo throughout the great hall as if it came from everywhere. Anna felt a chill run down her spine and turned to look into the face of the Count to see if he was merely joking. Once she turned, however, the Count was gone. She could still smell his irresistible musk but all other signs of his presence had vanished.
“Count?” Anna called out timidly. He had crept up on her before in such an accomplished manner that perhaps, she thought, he had left the same way too. But she had only just witnessed his arm disappear behind her. There was no way he could have reached the door in such a short time. It was as though he had evaporated into some spectral form, a thought that frightened the young woman into calling his name once more. “Count…are you there?”
“How long it has been since I have had such…appealing company.” The haunting voice fell from the high rafters as if from the night sky itself. It was the voice of the Count, this was unmistakable, but it came from no visible source. Scared by this disembodied and disturbing statement, Anna began to step backwards, dropping the moist towel to the floor in alarm. Her eyes darted from one side of the immense room to the other, searching frantically for the curvaceous body of the Count but it was nowhere to be seen. Step by step she backed toward the wall, tentative footsteps making almost a shuffling noise.
Unsure where the wall was behind her, Anna lowered her hands and placed them behind her facing back, hopeful they would give her ample warning before her back hit the solid wooden surface. Scanning the whole room in panic, she approached the wall an inch at a time until finally she felt something at her fingertips. A wall? No, she thought, too soft. Unable to stop herself she took one more step back into this yielding mass and was overawed with the scent of the Count once more. She felt panic course through her body but couldn’t force herself to move as she sank further into his more than ample belly. She was immediately intoxicated by his presence, unable to fight the mystical attraction she had toward the feeling of his body against hers.
Lowering his head to her shoulder, the Count closed his eyes and calmly took in the divine fragrance of the young woman in his possession. He lifted his hands and pressed them against her arms, firm enough to hold her in place but not enough to hurt. She didn’t fight; instead she sank further into him, the rippling rolls of fat caressing her skin through the still soaked t-shirt. Satisfied she was still and not in a position to escape, The Count loosened his grip and moved his hands from Anna’s arms to her smooth sides. As he did this, her backward facing hands felt his belly and began to squeeze this flesh to her immense delight. She was in pure ecstasy.
To be continued in next post...
