Baptism in Blood

Baptism in Blood

An Erotic Horror Tale that's good to the last drop

Millie Dynamite

© Copyright 2017/23 by Millie Dynamite

NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Baptism in Blood

A cold chill ran up my spine as we passed through the ornate iron gate. It was like the way the spray of moisture cools you when you cross a bridge in the mountains over a babbling brook. I put a hand on Thomas's shoulder, then withdrew my touch.

He slowed the car to a crawl and turned his attention to me.

I knew he sensed my unease. I shook my head. Still, the tremor traveling up and down my spine wouldn't wane. A feeling of dread overwhelmed me as we approached the massive structure.

The old gothic mansion looked like a nightmare come to life. Overcome with emotion, I uttered a sharp, raspy, "Oh," when I first saw the building.

Thomas slowed the car to a stop, then pushed the gear shifter into park.

"We can just go," he said. "No pressing reason to meet my mother and sister ... yet."

Fear had clutched me since we decided to make this visit. His last girlfriend died in this old, battered home. She suffered a stroke brought on by acute anemia.

"I'm fine, just chilly," I lied, though I couldn't even tell you why. "Besides, you told them we would be here for the weekend."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be a big deal if we don't stay. I'll drive back tomorrow, give them a jazzy song and dance, and everything will be all right."

"No," I insisted. "I'm okay, dear."

My heart pounded hard. It was so intense that it hurt from how it throbbed in my chest. I wasn't okay at all. The pressure inside my head pulsated, trying to explode. Even so, I had to go through with this meeting, lest for the third time, I turned chicken and ran. His mother is intimidating, a member of a royal family from Romania, Estonia, Hungary, or some place around there.

A countess, beautiful, seemingly eternally young. The Countess had this regal bearing and appearance. I saw pictures from a few years before of his mother and sister at some fundraiser. Butterflies battled in my stomach as we neared a large, covered section in front of the main entrance. Two formidable statues of unearthly creatures stood guard above the covering. The beasts were complete with snarling fangs, claws to snatch with, and horns high on their heads.

The gray stone structure and these horrendous gargoyles could frighten the Wicked Witch of the West.

Thomas Baorti grew up in this place, this dreadful dwelling. If this nightmare of a childhood home didn't scare him, why should it alarm me? It shouldn't. It's just a house, a massive structure, to be sure. Still, only a stone-and-mortar abode.

When we pulled to a stop, he turned to me. His beautiful gray eyes locked on mine. His will penetrated me, demanding me to be calm. My heart slowed, my breathing returned to normal, and the gooseflesh disappeared. His look did that to me. His mere gaze made everything all right.

Thomas's gray eyes captivated me the first time we met. I felt drawn to him, like the song in that play. We saw each other across a crowded floor. I felt this calling deep inside me. We've been together ever since. In truth, we are almost always together. We don't cohabitate, but we will live together once his mother gives her blessing.

An elderly gentleman descended the stone stairs, leaving the front door ajar. He pulled my door open and held his hand to me. He was a stern-looking man with gray hair and reddish-brown, steely eyes. The old fellow's face looked like a weather-worn landscape, with deep wrinkles and a few scars showing great mileage.

"Ma'am," he said, helping me out of the car. "Master Thomas, your mother wants to talk to you in her chamber. Miss Lancer, I think you'll find Master Thomas's sister in the drawing room. Follow me. After I show you to the drawing room, I'll attend to the luggage." The man's accent was thick and foreign.

"Thanks, old fellow," Thomas said. "He'll take good care of you, dear."

Walking through the doorway, a feeling of gloom flooded me, like a cloud covering the top of a mountain. A thick fog enshrouded my being. The old butler led me down a dark, dusty hallway. On each side of me, paintings covered the walls, appearing to span centuries based on fashion. All the women in these portraits seemed quite similar, as though they could have been the same two women decades apart but unchanged other than the clothing style.

In the same way, all the men resembled either Thomas or another man. Was it the butler's face, minus the wear and tear? I wasn't quite sure. I found all this unnerving. The house's spooky climate did nothing to allay my qualms.

Dread moved through me in cascading waves, and my heart hammered. My temples ached from the blood surging through my veins. I couldn't stop my hands from trembling, and that damn gooseflesh rose over every inch of my skin.

The old man bowed and left the room.

I found myself alone in that tremendous stodgy room. The room had furniture scattered here and there, with no discernable pattern. When I first entered the room, another chill passed over me. It was like the temperature had plummeted ten degrees. I gravitated to the enormous fireplace, where a cheerful fire blazed in the hearth. Strangely, it didn't seem to warm me. The heat must have escaped through the chimney.

I stuck out my hands and got what little warmth the flickering flame would provide.

The hair rose on the back of my neck, and an uneasy feeling festered in my head. I had a vague awareness, somewhere in the primitive recesses of my brain, of eyes watching me. I stepped even closer to the flames. No grate covered the opening. I moved to the very edge of the fire, bathing in the warmth of the flames. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was scrutinizing me.

Glancing about, I saw no one.

I returned my interest to the fire, and an unusual warmth flared deep inside me. Not all over, just localized. It made me even more uncomfortable. I moistened in the warm inner recesses between my legs, my nipples hardened, gooseflesh rose upon gooseflesh, and I felt as if someone touched me. The distinct impression of a hand moving over my back and cupping my buttocks shocked me. Twisting, I again surveyed the room. No one was there — wait. A soft white shimmering caught my eye in one corner.

And she spoke.

"Hello. You must be Aimee. I'm Vanessa."

This angelic apparition glided toward me, her hand extended. The long, simple white dress she wore moved over her body and flowed into an elegant dance as she approached. The dress was quite sheer. I could see her breasts, erect nipples, and even a tuft of blonde pubic hair. I felt myself blush.

She noticed my embarrassment as she touched my hand.

"No need to be embarrassed," she said, moving closer and still closer. Her lips pressed to my cheek, and a tingle passed over where she kissed me, spreading rushing down my body. "You and I will be fabulous friends," she told me. Her lips touched my ear, and Vanessa whispered, "Thomas and I share everything."

A cold fire ran down my back and spread into my loins.

Vanessa moved away from me. The air I breathed in chilled my lungs as my nipples hardened more. I felt exposed, as if the woman could read my thoughts or see my soul. A need grew inside me, an unnatural desire. This deep, dark hunger, an urge I had never felt. I turned back to the fire, my cheeks flushed, my breathing ragged. Not only had the fear returned, but it also had a companion.

A deep, lustful yearning.

"Well, how are my two girls doing? Getting along famously, I bet," Thomas said.

He strolled into the room. His commanding presence calmed me, if only a tiny amount. He walked to me, took me in his mighty arms, and embraced me in a deep, passionate kiss.

The smoldering passion erupted into a full flame as our embrace continued for thirty seconds. When we finally parted, I put my hand on my heart and felt my cheeks burning. The other sweltering heat strengthened as well. I felt somewhat dizzy.

"I got her ready for you," Vanessa said, speaking under her breath. Despite that, I could hear her, even her breathing, as she talked in short, breathy words. "She's wet. Can you smell the sweet aroma inviting you to indulge?"

Abruptly, she strolled away, then turned back to me.

"We'll talk more after dinner tonight."

She was gone, and I can't remember seeing her leave the room. The anxiety gnawed at me as if these things threatened my sanity.

"You have to make allowances for her." His voice brought my attention back to him.

With an appearance of happiness, Thomas poured two tumblers of water and offered me one. Reaching out, I took the glass from him and drank the cold, refreshing fluid. Despite this, I burned with passion.

A fierce heat inside concentrated on a single point between my legs.

The cold of the room fled, but not the trepidation. I sensed some impending doom lurking in the corner, ready to gobble me down.

Thomas stood a distance from me. I could feel those marvelous eyes drinking in the view of me. He had the most penetrating stare. I could always feel it when his eyes consumed me, devoured my form. Having him so enamored with my body was pleasing to me.

Notwithstanding, it's a bit freakish for someone to be so open with their lustful desires. I feared he would take everything I had to offer and leave me an empty shell. That constant fear had worried me from the beginning, the fear that he would devour every last drop of me.

I felt him drawing near to me. My heart palpitated wildly in my chest as my breast heaved. His hand touched my hair. His strong fingers ran down the back of my head and over my shoulder.

"She's right, you know. Your fragrance is strong and musky. Truthfully, your sweet aroma grabbed me before I entered the room."

In a slow, seductive motion, Thomas's hand grazed my left breast. His comments were bolder than usual. I could not mistake his meaning. For a long time, I put him off. I withheld my love from men all my life. Yes, I saved myself for one true love. I knew he could feel how hard my nipples were. He barely touched me, and it sent tremors running through my flesh.

Firey desires, a hunger deep inside and concentrating between my legs.

"I'm ..." Starting to speak, I stopped, thought about my words, and continued, "I just am not ready yet. Even now, I'm afraid."

While my body ached for him, fear kept flowing inside, preventing me from letting go. I feared once he finished with me, nothing of me would remain.

"You're a grown woman, Aimee. I have been very patient. I have given to you without receiving in return."

He spoke of pleasure and other things. Another thing he wanted from me was even more than joy.

"I know ... I know. I'm not ..." I stopped.

"Remember," putting his hand on my chin and tilting my head back, forcing me to look at him, "our understanding?"

"Yes," I said as panic surged, pulsing into my brain.

"Soon, you will have no choice." He emphasized his words by squeezing my face.

"It seems unnatural," I told him.

He let go of my face and walked around the couch, standing before me.

"I'm adopted, as is Vanessa." His voice held some anger. "It is not incest."

"I know, and I didn't mean that part." I couldn't explain it — who could? The fear surged, and my body shuddered.

"You wanted this. Do you recall you came to me?"

His words were genuine and yet false.

"My coming to you ..." I shifted on the sofa. This voice prattled inside my brain, screaming for me to run. I feared Thomas might attack me. In a moment, I reacted and moved my body into a defensive position. "I'm sorry, Thomas, you're not honest here. You willed me to come to you."

"I did not put the words in your mouth," he said. His voice changed, but he didn't convey anger. It was determination.

I was no longer safe.

Leaping from the divan, I ran for the door, propelled by terror. I made a break for freedom. Opening the door, I ran headlong into a woman and tumbled backward to the floor.

The woman, perhaps 30 years of age, towered above me. Her hands were on her hips, and the woman stood in my way, stark naked. Her supple curvy body held no blemish. I crawled on my back, scurrying back into the room, and she glided toward me. Standing beside her was Vanessa.

"May I present," Vanessa said stiff and formal, "the Countess Elizabeth Baorti, or as she was formerly known, Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed."

"You may call me mother, child," Elizabeth said. "This is not a promising beginning. You're a disappointment. After all, Thomas has been gentle, loving, and patient with you, and you try to run from us. That will not do. This will not do at all."

The Countess quickly reached down and picked me up with one hand by my shoulder. My body trembled at her touch. Her hand was ice cold and blistering hot at the same time. The Countess lifted me as if I were a pillow. The woman was quite tall, so my feet dangled off the floor. Her eyes burned into mine. They were more intense than Thomas's or Vanessa's, as red as her ruby lips.

"I'm sorry. I just am horrified by all this. I felt I had to get away," I said.

"Nonsense," she said, setting me back on my feet. "Thomas, you're wrong. She has three choices. Aimee, I've grown tired of waiting."

The woman's presence demanded attention. The perfection of the Countess's face and her physical power made me feel that if she wanted to, she could break me like a twig.

"Think carefully and make a choice," the Countess said as she meandered around the room. "You can submit. We can force you, or I'll bathe in your blood. If you stand there with that dumbfounded expression covering your face, I'll hang you up by your feet, slit your throat, and shower in your blood."

Her bearing, her haughty arrogance, which her magnificent grace and unadulterated power had birthed, astonished me. Elizabeth Baorti lived on the blood of others for centuries and adopted Thomas and Vanessa as her children.

"Should you run, Thomas will catch you before your fifth step, rape you and draw first blood. Then we will join in and have our way with you, consuming every ... last ... drop of you. And that will be your end. Isn't that your greatest fear?"

I bobbed my head.

Countess Baorti sauntered behind me, clutched my body, bent her face to my ear, and whispered.

"I would think you would want the first choice. No more childish resistance. SUBMIT!"

Turning to her, I dropped my head.

The fear hadn't subsided at all. No, my dread grew, as did my desire and lust. The yearning consumed me. My flesh burned when she touched my face. Lifting my head up, Elizabeth forced me to observe her.

Her reddish eyes burned into me, and dread and excitement inundated me. With a lilt of her head, she arched to me, turned, and our lips met.

As we kissed, Elizabeth touched my breasts, a gentle squeeze. Her tongue slivered into my mouth as her fingers unbuttoned my blouse. She pushed it off my shoulders, sliding it down and off my body to float to the stone floor.

Deftly, she unhooked my bra and removed it.

I felt Thomas's hands rubbing my back, and then Vanessa worked my skirt and slipped off my hips. The Countess worked my panties off my hips. She pressed them down my legs and guided my feet to step free of them. While Vanessa placed the clothing in a pile next to us.

I was unsure when Thomas and Vanessa undressed, but they were also nude. Thomas pressed his body against my back, then ran his fingers over my breasts, fondling my body. We all moved in unison, touching, feeling, kissing, pinching, floating together about the room. Twirling around, I felt my feet dancing in the air.

The Countess raked her long incisors over the tender flesh of my neck, but she didn't bite. Elizabeth's lips and tongue were like a cool caress against my neck, sending waves of pleasure through my body. Her soft, supple mouth moved over my skin, leaving a fire trail in its wake. Meanwhile, Thomas pressed his hard body against me, his massive prick pushing against my ass.

I knew I could not escape, and I realized there was no resistance possible to the thrill deep inside.

Thomas' hands moved to my hips, guiding them back and forth as he thrust harder against me. I could feel my body caving into his pressure as we swayed together in a sensuous dance.

They were relentless in their pursuit.

No measure of pleasure would be enough. His lips trailed along the back of my neck, and Elizabeth's kisses moved down my chest. Together, they explored every inch of my skin. I was in a trance, completely lost in the moment.

At the same time, Elizabeth's mouth moved over my body in perfect concert with Thomas. Her kisses inspired fresh waves of pleasure. Each touch was more intense than the last, and my mind spun. Delight, desire, and need mixed, and I couldn't process the sheer amount of sensation. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, and I knew it was only a matter of time before my body succumbed to ecstasy.

At last, we lay together on a large pallet. I lay on my back on top of Thomas. His cock pressed against my asshole. Elizabeth straddled my face, her dripping wetness filling my mouth. All the while, Vanessa, dear vain Vanessa, pressed her lips against my labia, exploring my depths with her tongue. Like snakes writhing together, our orgy commenced.

Terror still hung thick inside me, an ominous portent of future events. The painful awareness inside me, these creatures, swept me along the path from which there was no return. It obscured the outcome like a fog on a lake, lending a dream-like quality that overpowered me. That said, I felt no urgency to run, no need to flee.

Emotions, wild and iniquitous, and pleasure, ungodly and lecherous, engulfed me.

While a pitch-black void might loom ahead, something seemingly drew me in. I so wanted to flee, to run from the darkness. Yet I stayed in the pleasure, pushing the rest from my mind. After all, I was powerless, completely and utterly overwhelmed by the bliss which engulfed us all.

Thomas stabbed his cock inside me.

I bucked away from it, but his firm hands held me, pushing me down on his cock. The fat prick parted my muscles, sliding deeper. Exquisite, penetrating pain shot into my ass. The pleasure surpassed the ache as I rolled my hips into him.

My body quivered as electricity rushed through all nerves.

Vanessa's tongue parted my lower lips, then snaked into my tight virgin pussy. My juice fed her. Thick and sticky, it spilled out of me. I felt running down, knowing it provided moisture on Thomas's prick. Vanessa shifted her mouth over my clit, and her tongue flicked it hard. Sharp teeth teased the small, agitated button.

The terror still clung. Shivers raced through my body as Thomas's rough fingers moved over my hardened nipples. His callused palms pinched, squeezed, and massaged my breasts as I threw my head back in utter pleasure. My back arched. Deep, sensuous sensation devoured me.

All fear of the three vampires vanished as they took me to heights of ecstasy beyond anything I imagined or ever even dreamed.

I pressed my tongue deep into Elizabeth, and she arched her back, rolling her hips on me. I sucked hard on Elizabeth's flesh, and she writhed in complete abandon on top of me. Her hand slid down between her legs, she curled a finger to her labia, and, digging the long fingernail into her flesh, she scratched the length of the lip.