Dracula's Daughter - Sex Stories

Dracula's Daughter

... The sky was gray and soon someone would come and collect her for fear of a storm, and Gwen knew that it was hardest for her when she had to be inside, and that she did not feel safe anymore unless she was in some open place. Left on her own, she'd sit out here in the storm all night, even if it killed her. "That sounds fine," she said. "Mister...?" "Van Helsing," the man said. "Abraham Van Helsing. A colleague of Dr. Seward's." "A specialist," Dr. Seward added. "A specialist in what?" Van Helsing smiled. "The unbelievable." *** The sign on the cage read: "Gray Wolf," and beneath that, "Dangerous." The animal lay with its snout on its paws, still but not sleeping as dusk turned to night. A couple walking hand in hand through the zoo gardens peered at it. "How cute," said the young woman. The wolf snarled. The woman shrank away and her husband hurried her along. The London fog crept in. John pulled his coat tighter, though in truth he didn't mind the cold. Something else altogether made him shiver. He lingered near the wolf's pen. It laid its ears back and bared its teeth again, but then its demeanor changed. It sat up, and its expression became passive, even eager. John's flesh crawled. He went as if to run, or more likely to stumble and trip, mad and desperate, but before he could even take a step she was there. She wore a fur coat with a hood, and her dark eyes stared out from it shadows, fixing John to the ground. "Where are you going?" she said. John licked his dry lips. ...

... "Nowhere, Mistress. I was out for a walk." "I didn't know where you were." "I got lost finding my way back. I'm not used to this city yet..." She didn't blink. He squirmed. When she reached out he held his breath, but the touch turned out to be a loving one. "I do make it so hard for you, always going one place to another. But you don't mind, do you darling?" "Of course not. Mistress." And in truth, he didn't. Her touch, her voice, the smell of her perfume, the way the luscious sables draped across her exquisite body (like a statue that walked) crammed his fears into a tiny corner of his mind, replaced with--what? Love? Perhaps. But not love of any sort he'd ever known. Not human love. But its power was no less compelling. He wanted to fall on his knees and grovel, but he reminded himself they were still in public. She turned away, searching the horizon, though there was nothing to see through the fog and the lights of the city. "We're going out. I feel I need company. You'll help me, of course." John felt queasy, but he mumbled the words automatically: "Yes, Mistress." She noticed the wolf. It whined at her and wagged its tail. She put her hand between the cage bars and petted its muzzle. It licked her fingers. "How cute," she said, her voice filled with both hunger and affection. "How cute..." *** It was dark, and Gwen had finished her tea, and Van Helsing was telling her about his studies in Amsterdam, and then he got her talking about Transylvania so naturally that she ...