Count Dracula Hypnotizes Heatherbyandtheend©
Vampire uses Halloween to charm, glamour, and hypnotize his victims.
Other than admiring the realistic Dracula costume he wore, no one paid any attention to Count Dracula walking down the street on Halloween. Unlike the other trick or treaters on the sidewalk that mingled and congregated, while going house to house, intent on where he was going, he walked with a purpose. It should have been suspicious that he was walking alone and not meandering with some kid and trick or treating. Maybe they figured he was on his way to a private Halloween party. Definitely, in the way they fearlessly and obliviously walked by him on the same side of the sidewalk, so close that they could reach out and touch him, they never figured he was the real McCoy.
Yet, there's no such thing as a vampire, right? Count Dracula never existed or did he? In reality, having skulked around throughout the centuries, Count Dracula had been here, in your town and, of all places, in your neighborhood all along, while watching Heather for some time now. Enamored with her at first and in love with her now, he knew she worked at Starbucks. That's where he first saw her and, later, when she got off work, he had followed her home to see where she lived and, coincidentally and unbelievably, she lives in your neighborhood, practically right next door to you. Wow! What are the odds of that?
Tonight, Halloween night, all witches night, was the perfect night to formally introduce himself and make his presence known. Not having to change himself into a bat to gain entry, he could walk right up the front walkway and ring her doorbell. Walking around unnoticed, he could slick back his hair, wear his vampire cloak, the one with the starched, raised collar, and even with the pale pallor of his skin, the rouge to his cheeks, and the red lipstick on his lips to give him a bit of color, no one would suspect that he was the one, the only, Count Dracula.
"Mahwah, ha, ha, ha!"
Yet, more than that, after lusting over her for weeks, tonight, Halloween night, was his chance to get Heather alone, finally. Love at first sight or in his case, love at first bite, even though he hasn't bitten her yet, he was taken by her, his first interest in a human in a very long time. He couldn't help himself. With her long, lush, blonde hair and mesmerizing deep, bright, blue eyes, and with a curvaceous, sexy body to match her gorgeous, movie star face, she was so very beautiful. Why she was working behind the counter in a Starbucks in, of all places, your city and your neighborhood, instead of making movies in Hollywood or super modeling in New York, Paris, and Milan, was beyond him. She was someone begging to be taken, cherished, devoured, consumed, and bitten for her blood, and he'd give her all that, just as he gave that to Courtney Love, Lady Gaga, Oprah, J. K. Rowling, and Serena and Venus Williams, if she were his.
As we all know about the Count of Transylvania, focused and driven, never taking no for an answer, he has an addictive personality. For that matter, he has many addictions, blood and women, of course, for two, but coffee, good coffee, is his Achilles heel. Addicted to caffeine, in the way so many of us just cannot awaken without having a hit of our morning brew, he walked in Starbucks to get a cup of coffee. That's when he saw her. As if there was a bright spotlight over her head, she stuck out at Starbucks. As if she was on center stage and the rest of the help was set in black in the background, serfs to service the queen, he only looked, leered, actually, at her. All the other employees and customers literally paled in comparison to her.
When he looked over at the counter and at her, as if having laser sight, especially after having the Lasik surgery he recently had done, which his health insurance package, Vampire Cobra, didn't cover, by the way, he saw only her. The insurance company determined that Lasik surgery was unnecessary cosmetic surgery and was not covered under his policy. Yet, that's another matter, for another time, and for another story, Vampire Cobra, in the Reviews and Essay category of Literotica.
Now that it was Halloween night, the night that the dead come to life and the night that so many eerie happenings go unexplained, tonight was his opportunity to take what will be his forever. Tonight, with a kiss, a hump, and a bite, he'd show Heather that the dark, dead way is the only way to live forever. He was on the way to her house to truly take her in the way that only a vampire can take a beautiful human woman, that is, by controlling her mind, before taking her body and draining her blood.
"Mahwah, ha, ha, ha!"
Before taking such a drastic step in going to her house and revealing that he was not only a vampire but also that he was the Count Dracula, the king of vampires, he tried to get her interested in him. Unfortunately, never able to make the connection with her that he wanted, needed, and so desired, she just wasn't interested in him in that way, in any way, other than as a customer. As if he didn't exist, which technically one could say that he truly didn't exist, since he's been dead for centuries and has no reflection in a mirror, cannot even be photographed, she looked right through him. When she did notice him, she looked at him, as if he was just another middle-aged, horny customer lusting over another young, beautiful, busty blonde woman that he cannot have and will never have.
"Next," she said to him, before giving him a look, as if he was someone to be hated. Nonetheless, as if he was a Wal-Mart customer and she was handing him a carriage at the door, she persevered in her practiced greeting. "Welcome to Starbucks. How may I help you?"
How may you help me? I want to strip you naked and have deep, penetrating sexual intercourse with you, before biting your neck and sucking your blood from your gorgeous body, he imagined saying to her, but didn't.
"I'll have a large, black coffee with extra sugar, please, my dear."
"My dear? No one calls me that, not even my Daddy, even after he's had sex with me," she said looking at him, as if he was a foreigner or an alien. "You're not from around here, are you?"
"No, I'm from Transylvania?"
"Transylvania? Where's that? Is that in Idaho?"
Idaho? His kind of beautiful blonde woman, as dumb as a stump, and too dumb to realize she was already dead, when he'd take her. Oh, yeah, he'd have no resistance from this one.
"It's in Romania?"
"Roman who? Where's that?"
"Oh, see, that's a whole other country. I knew you weren't from around here. I have a gift for accents," she said. "Everyone knows I'm from Texas with my accent. I moved here to your neighborhood to go to your school."
He was amazed by her perception that he wasn't from around her, not really, actually, not at all. Yet, he'd forgive anyone, especially someone who looked like her, for not having intelligence enough to recognize a vampire when she saw one. Someone who had the face and the body that she possessed could be forgiven for many things. It was difficult to be mad and to stay mad at someone who looked like her, that was for sure. She'd get a free pass, whenever she needed one and, if he had one, he'd give her a gold star, too. One in a billion, she was a rare beauty alright.
"Perhaps you can accompany me to summer on the Black Sea and winter skiing the Carpathian Mountains."
"Listen, Mister, I don't understand a word you're saying. No matter and makes no never mind to me, because I don't know what you're selling, but whatever it is, I ain't interested. Besides, pardon me for saying so, but you don't look all that well. You look a little pale to me and if you're not here to buy coffee, then I'll just call the police on your sick ass and have you put in jail."
"My dear, I am here to buy coffee. Didn't you hear me order a large black coffee with extra sugar?"
"What's wrong, Heather?" Her manager came over and gave the guy the queer eye.
"This guy wants to take me out of the country to some place in Bulgaria or Rome, somewhere."
"Listen, buddy, beat it, before I call the cops."
Desperate to be with her, hypnotizing her was the only way he'd ever experience her in the way that he so needed and wanted. Now that he engaged her in conversation, even in their one-sided misunderstanding, he perceived that she'd be a wild Mustang in bed, bucking him and humping him in the way he liked his women to participate in sex. He lusted over the thought of getting her naked in bed and having hot sex with her, before biting her neck, sucking out her lifeblood, and leaving her for dead.
Yeah, killing her would be too good for her. Yet, instead, turning her into a vampire would teach her a lesson, that's for sure. It would serve her right for turning him down, of all people, the king of vampires. How dare she?
Doesn't she know who he is? How could she not know who he is? Surely someone like her grew up on Count Chocula cereal. He's Count Chocula, I mean, Count Dracula. It would serve her right for not wanting him, as much as he wanted her. It would be all her fault and not his fault that she'd be dead and to be resurrected as a vampire, just like him, but without all his super powers of the dark that he received in death to transcend him in life. He'd make her his queen, loyal and faithful to him, she'd give him hot sex whenever he wanted it, in the same way he still gets hot sex from Courtney Love, Lady Gaga, Oprah, J. K. Rowling, and Serena and Venus Williams.
Something he was unable to do at Starbucks, he couldn't glamour her there. A glamoured woman would have been too obvious that something was terribly wrong with her and, with all the security cameras in place today, was something that, surely, would have been traced back to him. He couldn't afford to be arrested. For sure, something he routinely gets away with at Wal-Mart, instead of looking like a helpful Starbucks employee, she more would have looked like a glamoured floor person at Wal-Mart. Certainly, there aren't many people he'd glamour at Wal-Mart, of all places, but sometimes a vampire must feed, when hungry.
Besides, he's been down that road before with the wooden stakes, the garlic worn around victims necks, the flesh burning silver, the church blessed crosses, and the townsfolk burning down his castle. Seriously, how many times can you report that someone burned down your castle, again, before the fire department suspects arson, the insurance company gets suspicious and not only raises your premium rates but also cancels your policy, which, by the way, puts you in the high risk pool? Then, there's the cleanup and hiring a crew from the fire and water damage rip-off companies, while hoping that the insurance will cover enough of the damage to put your castle back in some semblance of how it was before. No matter how good the cleanup, the place always smells of smoke.
Not needing a bunch of witnesses eager to file a police report and have him arrested to pick him out of a police lineup during the day, while his skin smokes from the burning sunlight, he needed privacy to glamour her in the way she needed to be glamoured. Not the way it used to be in Transylvania, he just can't go around the busy city streets here in your neighborhood, especially with the crime watch patrols, and that little, old lady, who lives across from you and who never minds her own damn business, glamouring women without someone noticing. He needed to have her deeper under his control, which is why he waited until all the trick or treaters went home, before going to her house.
As soon as Heather opened her front door, expecting him to be the last of the trick or treaters, no doubt, he glamoured her with his forced, focused stare. Then, once she was glamoured, is when she invited him inside. As you all know, vampires cannot cross your threshold, unless invited in your house.
"Won't you please come in my house, Count Dracula," said Heather in her unemotional and monotone glamoured voice.
"Thank you, Heather."
"How'd you know my name?"
"You're still wearing your Starbucks name tag."
"Oh," she said looking down at herself and removing her name tag.
Once inside her house, he held out his hand, as if holding her mind, to put her under a deeper state of unconsciousness. Then, when she fainted in his arms, he kicked closed and locked the front door, turned off the porch light, so as not to be interrupted, and carried his precious Heather upstairs to her bedroom. Always so easy, glamouring humans, before hypnotizing them works like a charm.
She was so very beautiful, even more than he remembered, now that he was so close to her and holding her, while carrying her up the stairs. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to awaken her from her deep, hypnotic sleep. Rather than awakening her, he gently placed her on the bed and stared at her sleeping so soundly before undressing her. His sleeping beauty, his blonde angel, his delicate flower, she looked so innocent soundly sleeping in the deep trance that he put her under.
He was so excited to finally have her as his. As if receiving a shot of adrenaline, as if having consumed a gallon of the rarest of rare AB Negative blood, he was so energized by her beauty that he couldn't wait to make her his queen. He was so thrilled to stare at her and touch her without him being deemed weird and her threatening to call the police again, as she did at Starbucks.
Dressed in a white, button blouse and a short flared skirt, she was so sexy. Not wanting to rush his time with her, wanting to undress her as slow, as if she was standing behind the Starbucks counter glamoured and giving him a slow, sexy and sensual striptease, nonetheless, he couldn't wait to see what she looked like in her bra and panty. He couldn't wait to see what she looked like naked. He couldn't wait to touch her, feel her, caress her, lick her, taste her, and make passionate love to her. Yes, more than anything else, he couldn't wait to make love to the woman that he had admired for so long and that had cast him under her spell of beauty, just as he had now cast under his spell of darkness. Still, while hypnotized and while still it lasted, he enjoyed the moment.
His favorite thing to do, careful not to arouse her and avoiding her nipples, he felt her breasts through her blouse and bra. Then taking his time, he unbuttoned the first button of her blouse. More erotic this way, as if he was playing his own personal game of striptease, he moved the cotton material of her blouse to one side to see what he could see. He saw her abundant cleavage of her C cup breasts. With the next unbuttoned button, he saw the top of her sexy blue bra that had little pink flowers. He loved her big breasts. He loved that she enjoyed wearing sexy lingerie. Careful not to sexually arouse her, avoiding contact with her nipples again, he couldn't help himself from feeling her big, American boobs through her blouse and bra again, first one and then the other.
She was so beautiful, tall, blonde, and busty, that he wondered if she was a transplant from Texas, the beauty queen capital of the world. Too many of the women he had back home, in Transylvania, Romania, were short and fat. It was a real pleasure, an understatement, to be with someone who looked like her. He couldn't recall being with anyone as beautiful and as perfect as she was. He wondered how old she was and he guessed she was in her early twenties. Someone like her should be working in Hollywood making movies, instead of working at Starbucks serving coffee and rebuffing middle aged horny men making passes.
Not wanting to arouse her, too much. Not wanting to awaken her, just yet, he continued unbuttoning her blouse, until he had unbuttoned each button. Then, before peeling back her blouse, he looked at his sleeping beauty. Alive for more than a thousand years, never has he seen such a beauty. It took all the self-control he had not to kiss her.
First he moved one side of her blouse to display one half of her bra clad breasts and then he moved the other side of her blouse. Now, splayed fully open, Heather had her entire bra exposed to him. Conveniently and fortunately for him, she wore a front snapper. With just a single flip, he'd see her naked breasts, her areolas, and her nipples. Only, not wanting to rush the show, wanting to take his sweet time in stripping her, he decided to see what was beneath her skirt first.
As if she was sitting across from him on a subway and inadvertently gave him an up skirt show of her panties, he peeked under her skirt. As if a gentle breeze played with the hem of the back of her skirt, as he stood behind her on a cruise ship leaving the harbor for a world cruise, he used the tip of his index finger to slowly lift the hem of her skirt high enough to see that she wore matching pale, blue panties that had the same, small flowers on her waistband that she had on the top of her bra. Wow, so hot. How sexy was that? Who would have guessed that this sexy Starbucks coffee server loves wearing sexy lingerie beneath her clothes? If only there were a Starbucks where they served coffee in their sexy lingerie, he'd be there every day, three times a day.
He unzipped her skirt and gently, ever so gingerly, unbuttoned it, while trying not to disturb and awaken her hypnotic induced sleep. Slowly, he slid down her short skirt until her panties were totally exposed and her skirt was down around her ankles and off.
As much as he noticed her panties, as much as he stared at her pussy slit that looked so much like a camel's toe, he was taken by her long, shapely legs. Obviously she was a dancer or an ice skater. Her legs, not so heavily muscled as to be a gymnast, had more shape and symmetry than muscle to them.
He stood and took a step back, the vision of her lying there so still on the bed in her sexy panty and bra is the one he'd take to his grave, well, at least to his coffin later tonight. There was his beauty in her splayed open blouse, panties, and bra. In a million years, he'd never think that he could be with such a woman who was so beautiful and as hot as was Heather. He moved his nose down to Heather's crotch and took a sniff. Wow. He couldn't wait to explore her deeper with his fingers, tongue, and cock.
She was so lovely, so stunning beautiful that he couldn't wait to undress the rest of his fresh flower. With a twist and a lift of his fingers, he unhooked her front snapping bra. Ever so slowly, he peeled her bra from her breasts and there they were. They were magnificent. A plastic surgeon could use her as a breast model to show his potential breast implant patients how their breasts could be. Double wow.
Careful not to awaken her, careful not to arouse her by fingering her nipples, he was all over her big breasts with both hands. He couldn't wait to get these two balloons in his mouth later. Finally, the piece de resistance, the removal of her panty. He needed to know if she was bushy, shaved, or trimmed. He figured she was trimmed.
Slowly and ever so gently, he peeled down her panty and rolled them off. There it was, his gateway to Nirvana and his X-rated adult playground. The tunnel where he planned on housing his snake, if only for a little while, until he hid it in her mouth and she sucked it, until he exploded his lust for her and she swallowed more than a thousand years of his being.
She was as blonde on her pussy as she was on her head and he couldn't wait to taste her. He couldn't wait to lick her. He couldn't wait to spread her legs wide open enough to accommodate having his face between her shapely legs.
Then, as if going down a blackboard with your fingernails, having a plate glass window explode as you walk by, or hearing your wife say that your mother-in-law was coming to stay in the guest bedroom for an undetermined amount of time, he heard Heather speak.