Me and the Devil Blues: A Tale of the Transylvanian Concubines
By Dmitri Storm
Father Khoma followed Ivan the gravedigger to the cursed woman. Khoma was personally disgusted by Ivan, and rarely came to this part of the Visaria. Ivan lived on the edge of the city, among ruined tombs and ruined castles, among gypsies and prostitutes and thieves. It all repulsed Khoma almost as much as Ivan himself did.
“I’ve been caring for her for about a week, Father. ” Khoma could not picture Ivan “caring” for anything, and definitely not a young woman. “I found her in the graveyard, rolling in the dirt and speaking in tongues. I tried to nurse her, but she began scratching and biting about both her body and mine. I have her tied to a bed in my shack in the graveyard. Tying a young woman to a bed for days was, on the other hand, definitely something Ivan was likely to do.
“I’m glad you came for me, my child. We will save here and, perhaps, the experience may make you start attending Mass every morning.” Khoma said. Ivan did not reply.
“Do you know her name, my child?” Khoma asked
Ivan almost appeared to smile in the moonlight. “In her more lucid moments, Father, she says her name is Sister Agnes.”
Dorota smiled behind the ball gag as she tossed herself around in ecstasy. She enjoyed many mixtures of pain and pleasure: whippings, floggings, controlled exposure to sunlight or religious artifacts, but one of her very favorite games was an exorcism.
Since even before she became undead, Dorota enjoyed being tortured by an earnest holy man, knowing full well he would leave frustrated and she would have at least one orgasm.
Ivan had warmed her up. He had flogged her as she lay with her limbs each bound to a bedpost. He left her there in a torn nun’s habit smeared with blood, fucking her mouth, cunt, and ass but never allowing her his cum, leaving her desperate and writihing for a week. Even if Father Khoma never turned up, Dorota was having a wonderful time.
If Khoma did show up, they were all in for a treat. The power of Khoma’s Christ pitted directly against the power of Dorota’s husband, the Count. The Count was Lucifer himself and had not lost a contest yet. Dorota loved breaking the “holy men” that Ivan brought to her. They usually cried after , and those tears of defeat were almost as delicious as the semen Dorota was always able to coax out of their bodies.
Dorota heard two male voices approach the shack and redoubled her efforts. When Ivan and Father Khoma entered, the priest gasped.
Being a vampire made faking a possession very easy. After having lived for centuries, she knew enough languages to speak in tongues convincingly. She could make her eyes turn red by thinking about feeding, imagining a hard cock giving up its ejaculate in one of her orifices. She pulled at her bonds and yelled, managing to get one pale breast to fall out of her torn clothes.
Ivan and Khoma entered the room and Dorota’s eyes flashed red and her cunt grew wet. She had been expecting a gray haired man of God but instead saw a young handsome man. This Father Khoma should be spending time with buxom women not with incense and icons. He may have never been with a woman at all. Dorota began to gnash at him hungrily.
“There she is, Father, I hope you can help her.” Ivan said, reaching into his pocket for his flask.
“It is God who shall help her, Ivan, not I.” Father Khoma was trying to hide the feelings of arousal that were clear on his face. Dorota knew she looked appetizing: pale skin, blood red lips, eyes that naturally created the illusion of makeup so expertly applied whores would be jealous, and a single alabaster breast adorned with a silver ring piercing a pert nipple. Any man would want her, even this man.”
She babbled in a mix of several languages as her eyes invited the priest to use her thrashing and semi-undressed body. Khoma set down his tools, pulling out a crucifix, holy water and a worn Bible.
“Fuck me, priest. Please, I need cock inside me.” She pleaded, her pelvis rising from the bed. Her tied legs spread wide would give him a perfect view of her most cunt and pierced labia if not for the nun’s clothing covering her.
“Get back Satan!” Khoma brandished a crucifix. Dorota hissed, enjoying the exquisite pain caused by his little toy.
“I’m on my back already, Father. I’m in the perfect position for you to enjoy my body.” She said coyly. She writhed more, pulling at her restraints and rubbing her cunt against the habit.
Dorota cried out as she felt holy water fall on her. Dorota moaned in pleasure as it stung her skin. “Mmmm, more, Father. It feels wonderful.” She giggled “If you want to make me wet, though, you already have. See?” The water caused her habit to burn away when it landed, leaving her barely dressed. Her cunt was now on full display, inviting Khoma to play with it.
Father Khoma began chanting in Slavonic. This was the least exciting part of an exorcism to Dorota. It was like some young poet trying to recite something he found meaningful but was putting his audience to sleep. Luckily for Dorota, Khoma decided to flog her as he chanted. Each lash of the flogger drove Dorota further and further into ecstasy. A consecrated flogger was one of the most wonderful pains she had ever encountered. She had to be careful when pulling on her restraints to not accidentally break them and end the game.
Father Khoma was channeling his arousal into the beating. He began to hit harder and harder, and Dorota had an orgasm from all the stimulation. Her cries were like a siren’s call to Khoma and he moved towards her. Ivan smiled behind both of them as he watched the priest step out of his cassock and mount Dorota.
He felt so good. Dorota could tell he had never been with a woman, and did her best to guide him. “Your cock is wonderful, Father. I think it’ll cure me where God failed. Please, keep fucking me. Grab the rings, ah! Yes! Yes, yes , yes!” Khoma was, truly, a natural at this. He used the rings to keep her cunt lifted off the bed as he thrusted with all the pent up passion of a celibate man.
Father Khoma was so involved with Dorota he did not notice Ivan creep behind him. Khoma was unaware of Ivan until Ivan’s cock first began to penetrate him. Dorota laughed with delight and continued to buck against the cock deep inside her, as she heard Khoma say “Oh God, yes! Please, please I want it in me!”
Ivan fucked Khoma as Khoma fucked Dorota and Dorota orgasmed again, crying out “O My Sweet Count!”, dedicating her pleasure to her Master. Very soon she felt her reward, Khoma’s precious seed, enter her and her eyes rolled back with euphoria. Her vagina absorbed the semen, nourishing Dorota’s body. “Please.” Dorota whispered “Free me, so I can pleasure the priest more” Ivan, having deposited his own seed inside Father Khoma, untied Dorota. She immediately fell upon Khoma’s still erect cock, massaging it and licking up the bits of semen on it. Dorota gazed up at him lovingly, rubbing the penis on her face to show her appreciation.
Father Khoma, panting, fell to the bed. Dorota straddled his face and began to rub her cunt lips across his face. Her labia rings moved across his face, occasionally getting stuck for a moment and pulling on her. Ivan stood in front of her, and she obediently opened her mouth to his cock. Through her cunt, Dorota could feel the man beneath her realize all that had happened and what it meant for his life. She reached behind her and began to stroke his cock. Unlike Ivan, he would probably not cum again, but she knew how to play with his cock to keep him enraptured. To her surprise, the cock became hard again at her touch. All three bodies climaxed at the same time. Her mouth full of Ivan’s semen, Dorota gathered Khoma’s and then licked it clean after Ivan pulled out.
Khoma, as Dorota hoped, began to cry. “It’s all over.” He said, sobbing.
“It doesn’t have to be Father.” Ivan said, stroking Khoma’s chest.
“Come with us, serve our Master. You will use my body again, and those of my two sisters. Every temptation you resisted, every urge you denied, we will be all of them for you.” Dorota said to him playfully, gathering more of his semen from his cock and then licking it off her hand.
“I can’t go back, I’ve failed. I came to drive Satan out, but I was too weak.” Khoma continued to cry
“You have found the true Master, the true God. Our Dark Lord, our Count. Come with us to him Father.”
“Yes, yes I will. You have beaten me. You have won.”
Ivan drank vodka from his filthy flask. “The Count always wins.” Ivan attached a heavy iron collar to Khoma’s neck and handed the leash to Dorota.
“I am surprised, little slut,” Ivan said as the three left for the castle “You did not draw my cum from his asshole.”
Dorota smirked. “My sisters will be happy that I brought a meal home to them.”
Drained of blood, naked, Sister Agatha lay dead beneath the bed, staring upwards with glassy eyes.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ovqelq/me_and_the_devil_blues_a_tale_of_the