Chapter Three

*What am I doing?* Alfred thought as he hurried after Koukol. For a hunchback, he moved pretty damn fast. *I am racing towards a creature * - He stumbled on a step, earning an impatient grunt and shake of the candlestick from Koukol - *Who tried to seduce and kill me earlier today. Was that really today?* He was shocked at the sudden passage of time. *It feels like a lifetime ago.*

Koukol led him through a rabbit's warren of corridors, at a pace that would previously have left him staggering and gasping for breath. When he had still been breathing. He had no idea where they were, so he had to follow Koukol just to stop getting lost.

Abruptly, he stopped along a pretty nondescript corridor. The unlit candlabra on the walls threw guttering shadows from the light of the candles the crippled manservant carried.

Alfred nearly collided with him.

'Ngh.'

'S-sorry, what?'

'Uh ngh'. Koukol gesticulated rather wildly at the stolen pink dress-coat Alfred was still wearing from the ball.

'Oh, I see. Sorry. The coat. Um, yes.' He slipped it off one arm, and turned round to take off the other.

His glance fell on the worn-out carpet on the floor, and he instantly remembered Alegory's theory of vampires and light. He had no shadow. Under normal circumsances, he would have been startled, scared. But for some reason he wasn't. He was - enlightened.

*So I'm a vampire. A real one.* He continued to stare at the candlelit floor as he slipped off the ancient garment. *Herbert wouldn't hurt me now, would he? He couldn't, really.*

'I'm afraid I... lost the wig... in the... forest...' He murmered absently, his back to Koukol.

*So if I'm already dead and he can't hurt me, what do have to be afraind of?*

'Oh, here.' He turned round and dropped the coat into Koukol's hand.

*I could go right in there and tell him exactly what I think of him, and he wouldn't be able to do a blind thing about it.*

He paused, Koukol forgotten, with his hand on the door handle.

*What DO I think of him, anyway?*

* * * * * * *

Koukol settled back to listen to the proceedings. Well, no-one had told him not to.

Apart from small, surprised sounding squeaks, everything was quiet.

He fixed his eyes on a particularly audaious, fat rat glaring at him from between to slabs of rock in the opposite wall. It looked rather tasty. Licking his lips, he stealthily crept towards it, hand outstretched to catch the unfortunate rodent. Just as his fingers closed around the squirming little body, he was startled by a high pitched scream from the bedroom.

Dropping the rat, he pressed his ear against he door to listen. *So he's in then.* He listened to the grunting and soft sobs that sounded like they were half pain, half pleasure induced.

*Ooh, he's gone in dry.* Koukol didn't get much sex, being a crippled vampire's manservant with a humped back and bad breath, so he had naturally become a voyeur, and very close to his right hand.

There had been one time, though, when he had caused the shrieks of the young count's 'son' himself. Oh, that had been good.

* * * * * * *

It was two days after the Count had announced that he was taking a vow of celibacy for some girl from the village, and his little playmate hadn't taken it well. He was used to sex, and lots of it.

He had been sitting in the library when Koukol went in to offer him a young wolf for lunch. Herbert had never been shy about pleasuring himself around the castle, and he wasn't going to start now.

Koukol watched in fascination as he masturbated fiercely right in front of him, unaware of his presence. He didn't sound like he was enjoying it all that much, he sounded frustrated.

Koukol felt himself growing hard as he thought of all the fantasies the young master had provided him, and discreetly started rubbing himself through the several layers of cloth that compromised his clothing.

He stopped with a slightly startled grunt, as he remembered exactly who he was. It wouldn't do to ejaculate in the presence of nobility. Controlling his accelerated breath, he reached out his left hand and touched Herbert's shoulder, ready to recieve a sharp slap or order.

Before he knew what had happened, he was down on the floor with a snarling, horny vampire astride his hips. He thought he was going to get bitten again. The master -the older one- had earlier turned down his offer of wolf, in preferance of werewolf. I.e, Koukol, and he was feeling a little light-headed.

He was about to mention this when he felt a small hand dive down his trousers and start stroking his engorged cock vigourously, before yanking his own down leather ones to his knees and slamming himself down hard, filling himself with Koukol's heated flesh.

Sheesh, vampires move fast.

He grunted delightedly as the cool vice engulfed him. Herbert started fucking himself hard and loud on his servant, so horny he would have fucked.... well, his servant. Koukol was seeing a picture he had seen many times before, but only in his head - the young master impaled on his cock, and loving it.

Koukol took a risk and moaned loudly. No response from Herbert telling him to stop, so he didn't. He started pouring out his heart to the gyrating boy, telling him all his wildest fantasies, but he could have been reciting a recipe for short-crust puffed pastry for all Herbert knew or cared.

It didn't last long. It couldn't, really. Herbert was so desperate he came after a couple of minutes' desperate humping, and Koukol exploded seconds after that.

When Herbert came he didn't bother to cover himself or catch it, so it jetted out over Koukol's broad expanse of stomach. He screamed out loud, Koukol's voice joining his in discordant harmony as the tight grip of the vampire's ass forced his orgasm as well.

When he was finished, Herbert stood up without a word and left the room, idly doing himself up.

Koukol lay dazed for a few seconds before staggering to his feet and limping back to his workshop. It seemed they would need a new coffin soon.

* * * * * * *

Herbert heard the door creak open. Probably Koukol, Papa would have sent him to drag him back to his coffin before day.

He wouldn't go. He didn't care about the light any more. 'Fuck off' He hiccuped, lifting his head a little, but not bothering to face the door. 'Leave me alone.'

The door shut, purring softly over the carpet. He relaxed again. The tears had long since dried up, he just felt tired and miserable. Rubbing his face into the cloth, he hugged it a little closer and imagined it was the cooling body of Alfred, recently, willingly killed.

Alfred looked at the prostrate form of the vampire with some surprise. Was that worn out figure the vigourous, unshakable, over-confident count's son? Surely he wouldn't be lying in bed crying? He would be throwing a tantrum that he couldn't have the toy he wanted, to be pacified with a new one and then forget that Alfred ever existed. Wouldn't he?

An unmistakable sob shuddered through the body. Herbert shifted his legs slightly. Beautiful, elegantly shaped legs, clad in their tight black leather. Alfred felt his mouth go slightly dry as his eyes were drawn to the rather nice bum at the top.

*What would that be like to fuck, anyway?* His fangs had slid back into his gums unconsiously while he was tearing down the corridors after Koukol, and he now felt them grow long and sharp again. *Such beautiful legs... and that hair. He's practically a girl. A bitch.* Herbert choked back another sob.

*A bitch who tried to kill me.* His eyes narrowed a little. *He wants my cock up his arse, does he? Then he can have it. It's his fault I'm dead. The little whore deserves it.*

As he stopped crying, Herbert began to sense that the room wasn't quite right. It seemed too full. *That bastard. Why can't he ever leave me alone?* Herbert lifted himself up onto one elbow, starting to turn around to challenge Koukol, who he was certain was there.

'Get out of here right now and I might not have you -'

Alfred suddenly found a very good use for his new-found vampiric speed. Before he knew what was going on, Herbert found himself pinned under 150 pounds of half-vampire.

'Killed?' Alfred snarled, teeth on full display. 'It's a bit late for that, isn't it?'

There was a tense silence for a few seconds.

'Alfred?' Herbert whispered. 'You - you're here?'

'Oh yes, I'm here.' Alfred nearly spat back at him, shaking with what he assumed was fury.

'Oh Alfred...' Herbert sobbed back, before kissing him.

Alfred shoved him away and as he was forced back into the pillow, Herbert noticed the two small puncture wounds on his throat.

'That bitch bit you?' *How could she? She knew I wanted him! She doesn't even care about him!*

'She bit me. But I've still got enough blood in me to fuck you.'

Herbert squeaked as Alfred suddenly reared back, yanking him underneath him and tearing the leather down to his knees.

'Wha-' Herbert managed before Alfred pushed his knees up to his chest, forcing all the air out of his lungs. It was hardly as if he needed to breathe, anyway.

Trapping the smaller vampire with the weight of his chest, he pulled his own tweed breeches down enough to free his unexplainably rigid cock, then, steadying himself, rammed straight into Herbert's anus. Herbert screamed at the delicious pain, arching up as much as he could to meet the initial thrust. Alfred hadn't prepared him at all, and wasn't planning on giving him time to adjust. It was difficult. He stuck halfway in Herbert's dry flesh, yanked out angrily and shoved in again. It hurt both of them, but neither cared. Herbert rolled his head back in the ecstasy of being out of control, being split open again by his love after 54 years. Alfred didn't really care if it hurt him. He was dead anyway, things could hardly get much worse. And if he hurt Herbert, all the better.

He pulled out roughly and stabbed back in. It was a little easier than before. Herbert's flesh was a little looser, and the way was eased a little by his thick, syrupy blood. Herbert felt dizzy and light headed, just the way he loved it. The pain should have had him screaming, and it did - but for entirely the wrong reason. He was incredibly horny. His own rigid cock was trapped between his and Alfred's frantically thrusting bodies. The friction of Alfred's flat belly against the sensitive underside was driving him crazy.
Herbert managed to fold his calves over Alfred's back and tugged him in hard every time he pulled out.
*He's actually enjoying this? He LIKES it?* Alfred was astounded. *I'm raping him, and he wants more? This is one screwed up vampire.* Alfred almost felt a pang of pity for him. Herbert was close to the edge, he felt himself start to fall. And when he did, he would bite. But if Alfred hadn't drunk by then...
'Alfred.... Alfred....' he gasped drily. 'Bite me sweetheart... bite me.... You have to drink...'

*Bite him? why didn't I think of that? God knows it hurts. And what an appropriate punishment for a vampire.* Herbert arched his head back, offering the smooth white column of his neck to Alfred. He shrieked and his body went into spasms as Alfred's teeth crunched through the skin and muscle on the exact mark of his turning bite. He bucked wildly as he came a few seconds later, grabbing Alfred's head and mirroring the bite with his own. Alfred howled into Herbert's neck as the incredible mix of pain, pleasure and confusion overwhelmed him and triggered the most mind-blowing orgasm he had ever experienced in his entire short life. Herbert drained him quickly, and before he had stopped reeling in the aftershock, he lost consciousness and collapsed.
Herbert gently removed Alfred's teeth from his neck and slowly straightened his legs. There was plenty of his own blood on Alfred's teeth and in his mouth, so he was sure he was safe. He lay back, happy and exahausted, under Alfred's heavy weight. Alfred had torn the walls of his rectum, shredded and drawn blood. Herbert could already feel his blood knitting the flesh back together, the pain dulling.

'You don't love me yet, Alfred.' he whispered softly 'But you will. You have to.'