Baby You’re A Haunted House! A Tale of the Transylvanian Concubines
By Dmitri Storm
Marion stood at the back of the tomb, the handsome yet sadistic Count holding the iron chain attached to the collar around her neck. At the other end stood her soon to be husband Cyrus and the three vampire brides of the Count. Marion wanted to vomit, but she was unsure if her stitched together body was still capable of that.
Marion had spent all of the previous evening being prepared for her wedding to Cyrus. Magdalena, Dorota, and Alzbeta, the vampire girls who were the wives and slaves of the Count, had begun by sewing high heels to her feet and then using needle and thread to pierce her flesh again and again, creating a permanent set of fishnet stockings. They topped this with a white corset that ended below her breasts and a gauzey white skirt that provocatively framed her lower body for anyone who looked. Their final effort was to make Marion into a living marionette (the puppet she Cyrus had named her after, he told her), giggling as they applied makeup to create unaturally long eyelashes, rosy cheeks, and deep red lips. And now here, she was a corpse being married to a corpse. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, but Marion knew she could do neither.
In the handful of days since she had been resurrected, Marion had learned some core facts about her new existence. She had learned that she could produce no sounds from her throat except a hiss. No words, no screams, just a harsh hiss.
She had also learned that each of the pieces that now made up her body had its own voice. Each foot, hand and breast cried out, in simple and repetive words lamenting the death its host body had experienced. Marion learned this caused a constant background chatter, while being willful and disobedient to Cyrus increased the cacophony to an unbearable level. Obedience meant quiet, meant the ghosts would go to sleep, and this silence became a delicious and addictive pleasure. Marion recognized that giving in to those moments of ecstasy meant that she had a very limited time before she was only an instrument of Cyrus’ desire, truly a puppet of the man she was built to please.
She had no memories of her life prior to being a stitched together corpse. She couldn’t remember her real name, who her family and friends were, what her hopes and dreams were. Every time he had tried, there was just… nothing. The closest thing she had to an identity was her role as the spouse of a man she barely knew.
The Count tugged on her leash and, hoping maybe now she could break away, she resisted. Marion took a step back and strained against the leash, and immediately was overwhelmed by voices: women crying out for justice, lost, confused, angry, tired, hungry, in pain. Marion heard voices but there were so many that she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She hissed in agony and slowly walked through the tomb as the Count led her. Her gait was unsteady but she did her best to keep up, walking past hideous rat things, ghouls, and werewolves. Many of the monsters leered at her, taking in the sight of her naked breasts and long legs. Marion was repulsed, but then that disgust created another round of chatters from across her body. Marion thrust her breasts out proudly and the voices stopped. She stayed this way until they reached the altar.
Cyrus and Dorota stood there, with Magdalena and Alzbeta kneeling beside them with their heads bowed.. The Count handed Marion’s leash to Cyrus and then moved to stand behind his Brides, smiling as he stroked Alzbeta’s hair.
Dorota, clad in nothing but a hooded black cloak and black knee high boots, was clearly loving her role as dark priestess. She intoned “We are here to wed these two defiled things under the auspices of our Lord and Master, Lucifer.” She looked lovingly at the Count as she spoke the Devil’s name. She looked at Cyrus. “Cyrus, Marion was created from the best available body parts to be a perfect wife and servant for you. do you take Marion to own, abuse, and fulfill your whims with?”
“I do.” Cyrus looked at Marion and grinned his broken toothed grin. Marion surprised herself when she had the courage to spit at him, dropping after to hiss at the ghosts inside of her.
“Excellent.” Dorota said, drawing some of Marion’s spit from Cyrus’ scarred face on her fingers and then rubbing it into Marion’s own face. “It appears this slut will require a lot of training, Cyrus. You will need to beat obedience out of her as quickly as possible, so let us now complete the union of these two unholy things and then end with one of our most important rituals, the raising of the dead.”
Magdalena and Alzbeta rose from their place before the Count. The two of them moved behind Marion and grabbed hold of her arms. Dorota removed two rings and, oddly, placed one on either of Cyrus’ hands. Marion was puzzled by this and was taken by surprise by a sharp pain in both of her breasts. Looking down, Marion realized Alzbeta and Magdalena had each pierced one of her nipples with a golden ring. The sensitive skin burned with pain, but Marion did not have time to tend to it. Dorota and the guests were not done with her
Cyrus dropped her leash as Magdalena and Alzbeta guided Marion to the center of the room, Dorota and Cyrus trailing behind them. A set of four shackles that Marion had not noticed before dangled from chains attached to the ceiling Had they been there before? Marion struggled to recall, as Alzbeta and Magdalena pushed her onto the stone. Dorota busied herself with closing the shackles around Marion’s wrists and ankles. She could not afford another blast of the voices, and Marion lay submissively as the vampires went about their task.
“Cyrus Homunculus, you are this thing’s rightful husband and will have the pleasure of fucking her at the same time as the Count. Which hole do you choose?” Dorota spoke loudly so the whole gathering could hear
The twisted voice of Marion’s mate replied “The asshole.”
“Excellent, Mr. Cyrus, I will fuck her whore mouth.” The smooth voice of the Count
Dorota spoke to the gathered monsters “After these gentlemen cum inside of Marion, all who wish may have the opportunity as well. May the Dark Prince bless us on this day.”
Marion heard some sort of mechanical sound and then felt the shackles tug at her patchwork flesh. She turned and saw Ivan, Cyrus’ repulsive gravedigger friend, turning a crank and all at once realized what was happening: they were literally “raising the dead”. Marion was being pulled by chains into the air. She lay there suspended as Cyrus and the Count approached her. Cyrus glared down at her with lust and she felt his cock roughly penetrate her. She let forth a hiss but was silenced by the Count filling her mouth with his own cock. Her anus clenched, trying to push out the intruder, but Cyrus’ cock filled her, causing alternating waves of pleasure and agony. At the same time, the Count’s cock filled her mouth, his pre-cum tasting like blood and wine.
Eventually Marion did the only thing she could: she surrendered. Her throat and her ass both relaxed and welcomed the cocks inside of her fully. She swung back and forth between her two lovers, doing her best to please them and to keep the voices quiet. When the Count finished in her mouth, Cyrus pulled out of her ass and soon she was sucking on his cock instead. A man dressed as an Orthodox priest approached her and began masturbating over her body as a woman dressed in red lace began to penetrate Marion’s cunt with a dildo that was spined like the cock of a cat. Marion gave in to the pleasure and experienced complete silence in her body for the first time. Marion began to feel ecstatic, began to crave more degradation, knowing it would extend this time of peace.
Her prayers were answered as two hairless things with beady eyes and sharp teeth began to fuck her mouth at the same time. She hungrily swallowed their cum, just as two more inserted themselves together. When they were finished with her, another two stepped up for their turn. This was what she was now. A puppet, a toy for pleasure. A marionette for Cyrus, her husband. Ivan approached and hit her again and again in the face with his penis before finally plunging it into her open mouth. As he used her, he scratched at her and slapped her. He finished with her, walked away and then….. Nothing. The monsters had all had their fill of her.
She swung on her chains, panting, and saw Cyrus stood above her, smiling. Marion’s eyes opened wide as she saw a branding iron in his hand, its end forming the initials “CH”. The initials were seared into the flesh of her ass. Her hissing mixed with the hissing of the iron and her left buttock gave the first coherent words from any of her body parts: “Thank you, Master.” She looked around after and saw the wedding guests all filing out, the Count walking his Brides out on leashes and even Ivan leaving. They were alone now, Marion and Cyrus.
“You will come to love me, to love this life.” He said to her as he unshackled her and picked her up in his strong arms. Cyrus walked through the tomb and down a flight of stairs. He walked to a large stone coffin and lay down in it, Marion lying on top of him. “Yes, you will come to love me. You have no choice. “ He guided her head down to his cock and she obediently took it again in her mouth. Rough fingers ran through her hair as she bobbed up and down, doing her best to be pleasing. He finally came in her throat and she tried to move her head away but a hand kept her in place. “No, my wife. This is where you will sleep, your mouth ready to please me whenver I choose.”
Semen and ooze dripped into Marion’s mouth as she lay embracing her new husband’s semi-erect penis. She drifted to sleep, the tomb and her head both silent, hearing no sound at all but snoring coming from Cyrus.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/prhjzd/baby_youre_a_haunted_house_a_tale_of_the