The flash dies away to a golden glow. You pull back from the kiss and the baroness slowly smiles up at you.
“I am free,” she whispers.
“The goddess has blessed you with her mercy,” you say.
She covers her heart with both hands and sadness overwhelms her smile.
“I have… done such evil things. I have fed upon the blood of my servants and helped to seduce others to her cause.” Tears roll slowly down her cheeks. “Izabella made me… I had no choice. You… you understand, right?”
“Yes,” you say, taking her hands. “It will be alright, baroness. The goddess has already forgiven you. Where is she?
“The crypt beneath the castle,” she says. She leaps from the bed, pulls on a night gown, and scoops up a candelabrum. “Come, Lucas! I will take you to her lair.”
She leads you down a spiral staircase and into the cool, dank air of what is clearly a dungeon. Shackles hang from the stone walls and the doors of several cells stand open. There are tables, chairs, bucks, and rows of weapons and helms as if this also served as a barracks for the castle guard. There are no prisoners and no guards down here. You feel a tremor of fear as you wonder what happened to both groups.
“She usually is not awake so early in the day,” says the baroness, her gown sweeping softly over the stone floor as she leads you into the deeper darkness of the crypt. “She knows so much about what goes on in the castle. I fear she will expect you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I must face her.”
Your footsteps echo behind her as you descend more staircases into a world of darkness and the faint smell of death.
“Twenty generations of my husband’s family are buried in the crypts,” says the baroness. “Including my husband.”
She holds the light out to a huge stone sarcophagus marked with recent inscriptions.
“I thought the witch could save him when he fell ill,” she says, tracing the carved face on the sarcophagus. “I fear her dark magic only hastened his death. She took him from me.”
You rest your hand over hers and gently squeeze.
“I will avenge him, baroness. I will strike her down for the sake of Ulvenblad.”
“Thank you, Lucas,” she said, nodding slightly. “It isn’t much farther. Just down the stairs and through the door to her private chamber.”
“Remain here,” you say firmly. “I will deal with her.”
You light a candle from a nearby sconce and descend alone into the older crypts. You reach a simple door of oiled blackwood set into the hallway. Tracks in the dust on the floor suggest it has been opened and closed recently.
There is no other way forward. The ancient crypts must continue through this door, housing past generations of the baron’s family.
CONTINUE >
Veleda saves your life from the baroness
You awaken in a white palace lit by golden light slanting down between columns that seem to reach up to the sky. Veleda, far larger than a human, stands over you, a compassionate look on her beautiful face, her blonde hair falling down over her white gown. You want to cry out to her, to beg for her mercy and her forgiveness. You cannot move your withered limbs.
Her eyes glow with holy light as she slowly crouches down beside you and scoops you into her huge hands. Your legs dangle over her palm as she lifts you up to her face and presses a kiss to your face. You feel your strength returning, your limbs moving again and your heart beginning to beat in your chest.
“My goddess, thank you,” you cry, rolling onto your knees and bowing before her.
“The baroness has bested you,” she says. “I knew she might prove a challenge, but she is not the true evil you must face.”
“Izabella?” You ask, unable to look up at Veleda’s magnificent face.
“Yes, the witch is the heart of darkness in Ulvenblad,” says Veleda. “Vestiges of the baroness’s humanity remain. Face your real foe in the crypt beneath the castle. Defeat the vampiress and the baroness, along with Izabella’s other thralls, will have their humanity restored.”
“I will do it,” you say resolutely, daring a glance up at Veleda. She smiles down upon you and drops you from her hand. You fall into a blinding glow, descending through the holy radiance, the ether, and back to the human realm of blood and soil.
You are standing before the baroness, a light fading from your eyes. She looks at you with confusion, her flush returning to her cheeks. She looks at her hands and then at you. Tears begin to spill from her eyes.
“I killed them,” she moans. “I drank their blood! I brought her into my home and helped her enslave my people!”
“Shhhhh,” you embrace her and hug her against you. “You were not yourself, baroness. You were also a slave of the power of the vampiress.”
“Izabella,” she hisses, shaking with grief and rage. “She must be stopped!”
“Yes,” you agree, your resolve strengthened by the goddess’s intervention, “she must be stopped and I will stop her. Take me to her.”
The baroness wipes her tears and nods with determination, scooping up a candelabrum. She leads you down a spiral staircase and into the cool, dank air of what is clearly a dungeon. Shackles hang from the stone walls and the doors of several cells stand open. There are tables, chairs, bucks, and rows of weapons and helms as if this also served as a barracks for the castle guard. There are no prisoners and no guards down here. You feel a tremor of fear as you wonder what happened to both groups.
“She usually is not awake so early in the day,” says the baroness, her gown sweeping softly over the stone floor as she leads you into the deeper darkness of the crypt. “She knows so much about what goes on in the castle. I fear she will expect you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you say. “I must face her.”
Your footsteps echo behind her as you descend more staircases into a world of darkness and the faint smell of death.
“Twenty generations of my husband’s family are buried in the crypts,” says the baroness. “Including my husband.”
She holds the light out to a huge stone sarcophagus marked with recent inscriptions.
“I thought the witch could save him when he fell ill,” she says, tracing the carved face on the sarcophagus. “I fear her dark magic only hastened his death. She took him from me.”
You rest your hand over hers and gently squeeze.
“I will avenge him, baroness. I will strike her down for the sake of Ulvenblad.”
“Thank you, Lucas,” she said, nodding slightly. “It isn’t much farther. Just down the stairs and through the door to her private chamber.”
“Remain here,” you say firmly. “I will deal with her.”
You light a candle from a nearby sconce and descend alone into the older crypts. You reach a simple door of oiled blackwood set into the hallway. Tracks in the dust on the floor suggest it has been opened and closed recently.
There is no other way forward. The ancient crypts must continue through this door, housing past generations of the baron’s family.
CONTINUE >
Wait
You need to stall and look for an opening. You switch your guard low and then high, one hand and then two, circling her and protecting yourself from her claw-like hands. She lashes out with an angry hiss and you swat her hands away with the flat of your sword. You backpedal, widening the circle, but now needing to be mindful of the luxurious furniture in your path.
“You waste my time,” she hisses. “Why not give up and let me take your cock? I’ll make you enjoy your last moments alive.”
“Never,” you say, watching for an opportunity. “You are a corrupt leech.”
“Call me names if you like, I’ll even let you fuck my ass,” she says, turning and pulling her gown tight to reveal the roundness of her bottom. You almost strike, but she seems to sense your posture and turns back around quickly to face you. “Or does your little prick not work, Lucas?”
“It works,” you growl. “You’l
l find out when you’re trapped in my sword.”
“That sword?” She laughs. “You’ll never touch me with your blade. I will be feasting on your blood.”
Your guts knot with fear at her threat and you can see by the brighter blaze in her red eyes that her patience is wearing out. She crouches as she circles you, her arms apart, but her hands so fast your probing thrusts are easily batted aside.
She swats one strike away and you see your opening in the moment afterwards. She is overextended, exposing her flank to you.
“Die!” You shout, driving your blade at her side with all of your strength. The sword slices through her gown and scorches the white fabric at its edges, revealing the pale blue of her skin beneath. Your attack has missed and you have terribly overextended. You see the smile on her face and the bright flash in her eyes and you know you have doomed yourself. She grabs your wrists and twists them, breaking one and making you drop your sword. As you recoil in pain, she leaps at you, driving you down to the ground and burying her face against your neck.
Her sharp fangs slice into your flesh and cause a gout of blood to explode from your torn vein. She latches her mouth to your wound and begins to suck. You moan helplessly, your strength sapped almost immediately and strange pleasure radiating from your neck and through your body. Her sucking is so pleasurable that it feels almost orgasmic. The rippling pleasure and euphoria recedes into darkness and icy cold.
The last sound you hear is the final faint thump of your heart as you perish, nothing more than a meal for the vampiress.
CONTINUE >
Attack
Accused of being afraid by the vampiress, you snarl and lash out at her, swinging your sword and nearly cleaving off her hand. The blazing sword misses her wrist by a finger’s width as she dodges out of the way. She smiles, baring her fangs.
“You will have to try a bit harder than that to slice me up with your little toy, Lucas,” she says. “Go on, take another swing!”
“Bloodsucking bitch!” You roar, swinging your sword in a wide arc and following up with a jab of the tip of your blazing blade. Izabella steps out of your reach both times, her smile never slipping and her red eyes glittering with amusement.
Your frustration boils into desperation as you swing at her again and again, driving her back, but never landing a blow. You manage to back her into a corner of the room. Roaring triumphantly at last, you swing your sword at Izabella’s head and—
THWACK!
She claps her hands on the blazing blade of your sword, catching it just as it is about to strike her in the forehead. Her hands are wreathed in flames. You grit your teeth and try to force your burning blade downward. She closes her fingers around your blade and yanks the sword out of your grasp. With a vicious snarl, she tosses the blade across the room. Its holy light dies as it clangs to the floor.
“That hurt a bit,” she says, flexing seared fingers. You watch as the wounds disappear. “Of course, a bit of blood is all it takes to heal myself. But now, my dear Lucas, I am very hungry. Time for a… bite!”
She grabs you by your throat with one hand and lifts you off the ground. You try to cry out, but her hands strangle the words from your throat as she floats into the air and presses you up against the ceiling of her chamber. She grabs hold of your trousers and tears them open. You kick at her and try to punch her arm loose, but her entire body feels as if it is made from iron. All you manage to do is bruise your own arms and legs as you desperately fight against her.
“Your continued struggle is amusing,” she says. “Without your sword, you haven’t a chance to defeat me. Now… stop fighting, Lucas… and enjoy your last moments of life.”
Her menacing words are accompanied by her hand firmly gripping your flaccid cock. She shocks you with a cool, wet kiss on your lips, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. Your fear ebbs, but does not go away completely, as her tongue swirls into your mouth and her hand deftly wanks your cock. She holds you pinned to the ceiling by your throat, unable to cry out and just barely able to breathe.
Despite your predicament, you stiffen quickly in her expert grasp and she swings her floating body upwards, trapping your hips against the ceiling and between her knees. Her hair hangs down as she slides her cool, slick, very tight pussy onto your forcibly stiffened cock.
“Aaahhhhghhhg,” you choke out as Izabella’s pussy envelops your manhood.
“Oh, that’s right,” she laughs. “Even though you know your death is coming, your stupid male body cannot resist a final bit of pleasure.”
She begins her inverted ride beneath you, her hips working and her pussy gliding up and down your rigid shaft. Her knees stay locked against the ceiling, but her ass bounces steadily and you can see it all, because her gown is hanging upside down to her waist. Her blue thighs clench tight around you and the walls of her silky cunt grip at your surging cock.
“Yesssss,” she hisses, baring her fangs. “Give in to the pleasure, Lucas. Cum for me and I will drink you dry.”
“Nnnnnhhhkggggkk,” you reply, fighting back your rising orgasm.
You cannot look away from her dark blue folds stretched tight around your cock, sliding over your crimson shaft and leaving her glistening nectar behind.
“Ohhhhh,” she moans, her breasts heaving and nearly falling upwards out of her bodice. “I can feel your stones tight against your root. Your cum boiling. Give it to me, Lucas. .One last flare of pleasure. Fill my hungry cunt!”
“Ahhhhnnnnnnhggggkkkk!” You cry, tears welling in your eyes as you know your death approaches.
You cannot fight it any longer. You grab her hips and thrust downward into her cunt, sheathing every inch as your pleasure surges.
“Yes! Oh, yes, Lucas! Cum for me!” She laughs triumphantly.
You bury your cock in her again and again until the pressure it too great and the tension explodes into a rushing orgasm. Your cum blasts downward into her cunt and in that moment you feel her lips against your neck and the sting of her fangs. She begins to suck at the wound as your hot blood gushes into her mouth and your cum gushes into her pussy. The warm pleasure of her feeding meets the hot pumping ecstasy of your orgasm and the two seem to intertwine. Both pleasures rise to their peak and recede quickly into darkness.
The warmth fades to an endless cold. Your cock twitches one last time inside her as she drains the last of your blood with a slurp.
You have become a meal for the vampiress.
CONTINUE >
Ravish the baroness
You growl with frustration, sheathing your sword and shoving the baroness to the floor. Her hand slips free of your cock and she falls at your feet, hissing and baring her white fangs. You set upon her, grabbing hold of her white gown and tearing it from her pale flesh. Her small, pert breasts jiggle as you tear away her gown. You thrust a hand between her legs and push two fingers into the down-thatched groove of her cunt.
“Ohhhhh! You impudent cad!” She cries, squirming beneath you and gasping with apparent pleasure as you pump your fingers into her honeypot.
“Shut up, vampire whore,” you laugh. “You want a man to wrap around your finger and drink dry? How about a man who pins you to the floor and gives you the proper fucking you deserve?!”
She cries out as you thrust her legs apart and push your hardness against her slippery folds. She hisses, baring her fangs again, but you ignore her.
“Mmmmmm!” She cries in protest as you line your cockhead against her slick folds and gently press her tender opening wider with your cock. You sink deep into her cunt, marveling at her near virginal tightness and the strange, slippery coolness of her flesh. She cries, “Ahhhhh!”
“This is what you wanted,” you remind her. “What you were asking for!”
You hold her pinned to the floor with one hand on her shoulder, your cock slamming in and out of her delicate cunt as you roughly fondle her breasts with your other hand. Her hiss of anger becomes a moan of pleasure, her lips parting to bare her gleaming white fangs. Th
e predatory sight of them makes your cock twitch in her cunt. You lean over her and kiss her lips, running your tongue over the sharp hardness of her fangs. She sucks at your tongue and swirls her tongue against yours, moaning into the kiss.
“Vampire whore,” you pant against her lips, your pleasure rising with each stroke.
“Yes, I’m your vampire whore,” she cries, raking her nails so hard up your back that they tear your tunic. “Fuck me, Lucas. Fuck me with your holy cock!”
Your flesh slaps against hers. You push yourself up, your weight balanced on one arm as your thrusts make her small breasts bounce with the force of your lust. You roughly pinch her right nipple and twist it, eliciting a wail of shock and a slutty smile from the baroness.
“Yes, I can feel it,” she cries. “Cum for me, Lucas! Cum inside me, my little peasant warrior! Fill my noble quim with your seed!”
Unable to resist her lewd words nor the sensual rolling of her hips, you yield to the building pleasure, thrusting deep into her as you cry out. Your cock explodes in the depths of her tight cunt. Her slick inner walls grip at your surging shaft and milk your cum from your hard cock. As your cum is pumping into her pussy, the baroness suddenly leans up and kisses your neck. A sharp pain follows and a hot gush of blood spurting from your open artery.
“Ahhhhh!” You cry, still spurting your cum into her pussy as a wave of hot pleasure radiates from your wound. She slurps at your flowing blood, drinking your essence as you pump the last of your load into her fluttering cunt. You try to push away from her, but the baroness locks her legs tightly around you and holds your shoulders and back in an iron grip.
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