Feature Writer:
Feature Title: BATHORY’S BLOOD
Published: 04.02.2025
Story Codes: Erotic Fiction
Synopsis: A feast by the fire for the Countess and her prey
Author’s Note: This is the sixth part of a chain story by a sextet of Literotica authors: @Tio_Narratore, @StillStunned, @pink_silk_glove, @Erozetta, @AlinaX and @Omenainen. You will be able to find all the chapters eventually in this list: Vampire Chain Story.
Bathory’s Blood
There was at times a preternatural stillness to Mircalla, watchful and poised. In the dark with only the light of the moon, she could be both shadow and pale luminescence, easily mistaken by the unwary for a statue. Not that there were any passers-by on this frosty November night. How the Hungarian beauty could stand to wear so little was beyond Mina’s comprehension. Wrapped warmly by comparison, Mina still shivered from the icy, gusting breeze that attacked every sliver of exposed skin. “Can we please go inside?”
The sky was cloudless, and from their vantage atop the ruins of ancient Cachtice, the two women had a grand view of the star-brilliant heavens. By contrast, the hills and woods of western Slovakia were cloaked in blackness, pierced here and there by the lesser lights of human habitation. “A warm fire would be nice,” Mircalla said, and led the way down and into the stage set of Countess Elizabeth Bathory’s bedchamber that sometimes doubled as Mircalla’s too. The crackling of wood in the fireplace was a welcome change to the still discernible whistling and moans of the wind outside.
Mina crouched down by the fire, soaking in its blissful heat. Behind her she heard Mircalla pouring wine. “Let us toast the night with Bathory’s blood,” the actress said, handing Mina a glass of what looked almost like blood but in truth was a local vintage popular with tourists. Settling down beside Mina, her movements precise and graceful, Mircalla chinked their glasses together. “For the blood is the life,” she intoned reverently, and took a sip.
Mircalla’s dark eyes were seductive with predatory hunger. “I never know with you,” Mina said, feeling more than a little like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “Are you actress or Countess? Vampire or porn star?”
“Which do you want me to be?” Mircalla asked – but then her lips curled into a playful smile and she laughed. “Would you like me to bite you? No – Let me ask instead: Where should I bite you first?” She leaned in to kiss Mina on the neck. “Here?”
“No biting, thank you,” Mina said, although the touch of Mircalla’s lips against her skin left an echo of longing.
If Mina had a type, it was probably chaotic blondes like her friend Lucy, although sexual confidence was always attractive and artistic ink a definite fascination. Mircalla certainly had sexual confidence, along with an almost etherial beauty, and there was no doubting her skill and familiarity with sapphic seduction, but it was an illusion. An act by a professional actress – as Mircalla herself would likely confess if confronted. But…
But to allow the act to continue was to permit the fantasy to continue.
Feeling warm at last, Mina tugged her woolen jumper and vest off over her head, leaving herself bare from the waist up, save for a red lace bra. “Here,” she whispered, touching her breasts, leaving it ambiguous about whether she was inviting a kiss, or a bite.
Mircalla’s lips, tender and warm, pressed softly against Mina’s skin, so very close to her heart. Mina’s fingers brushed through the curtain of black silk that was Mircalla’s hair as the questing lips teased along the edge of her bra with sweet, lingering kisses. Until, with a sigh of protest, Mina reached behind herself to undo the clasp and free her breasts.
“Perfection,” murmured Mircalla, her breath warm against Mina’s nipple. “But this isn’t what I want. It’s not what either of us wants. Undress for me. Now!”
Laughing quietly to herself, Mina stood and obeyed, unbuttoning her trousers and playfully pushing them down. There was nothing playful about the look in Mircalla’s eyes, however. Impatiently, she tugged down Mina’s lacy red thong and buried her face in Mina’s pussy.
Mina had no complaint, of course, not about the tongue that swirled so precisely about her clit, nor even the sharp fingernails that dug possessively into her rear. She parted her thighs to give easier access, caught for the moment between pleasure and surprise. This was no act on Mircalla’s part. This was genuine hunger. “What woman,” Mina whispered, “would not love to be so desired by so beautiful a lover?”
“Exquisite,” Mircalla pronounced, pulling away to catch her breath and looking up with a bright, triumphant expression. Her glistening lips were stained red, and not from lipstick or wine. “Exquisite!”
Alarmed, Mina tried to pull away, but Mircalla returned to her feasting, and Mina…
Mina did not object.