Dracula's Daughter - Sex Stories

Dracula's Daughter

... man was there. "Take care of that, will you?" she said, stretching out on the floor and petting the beast. Swallowing, John obliged, putting on his pants and throwing the dead man over one shoulder. Steps would have to be taken to ensure he stayed dead, and then to ensure that he would never be found. The body was heavy and John was weak from so many nights of exertion, but her voice filled him with a new kind of strength, one born of the fear of what would happen if he failed. *** "It says here there's an escaped wolf running around London and nobody can seem to catch it. Isn't that odd?" Gwen put the newspaper down and Helen glanced at it. The salad in front of her was half eaten, the most Gwen had seen her take in months. All around them: white tablecloths, tinkling glasses, the strings of an orchestra. Gwen worried that the music here might be too loud for her, but Helen seemed to like to watch the couples dancing. Gwen was skeptical when Professor Van Helsing told her to begin taking Helen out into the city, but she'd regained color and started speaking again. Dr. Seward insisted on advancing them any money they needed, both for the sake of Helen's treatment and for their father's memory. Now she looked at the dance floor and said only, "Odd things happen." Then, suddenly, "Do you want to dance?" Gwen almost laughed. Helen looked nearly embarrassed for a second and then said quickly: "I don't mean with me. Or with anyone. I'm just saying, wouldn't it be nice to dance, ...

... if someone was here? It's been a long time since either of us did." "I guess it has." "David was never much of a dancer with you, was he?" Gwen's heart caught in her throat. It was the first time Helen had mentioned either of the boys since the castle. She covered her shock by wiping her mouth with a napkin. "He wasn't." "But John was always willing to do another dance with you, wasn't he?" "I..." Helen shook her head and waved it off. "I'm not saying anything. I was just remembering." Her voice trailed off and she seemed to be staring at something. In fact, everyone was staring. Even the band's music faltered for a moment. Into the hall came a woman, dark and exotic, covered in furs. Every eye went to her and stayed on her. She held her coat to the man at the front, and he nearly tripped as he took it. She sat at a reserved table, far enough away from everyone to have privacy but close enough that they could still all see her. The man who came in with her was curiously listless, almost dragging his feet as he walked, but nobody paid him any mind. Helen caught her breath first. "That woman..." "She sure knows how to make an entrance," Gwen said. She was blushing for some reason. The whole spectacle was so surreal it seemed like a dream, a private dream she wouldn't tell anyone about. She hoped the stir would die down once the moment passed, but Helen leaned over to the young couple at the next table and asked: "Who is she?" "Countess Szelinski," said the young man, instantly. ...