Castle Janca

The 'Dracula' theme has always been a dominant one in my imaginative life and I tend to like 'playing around' with it or permuting somehow for my own amusement getting it to fit into my own peculiar 'context.'  Although this may not be the type of story you would expect to find on a domme's site simply because it's NOT overly sullied with blatant graphic language and over used cliches.  Instead, it's characteristic of panache and creative flair you will be only find with me.

  Here, I tell the story through the 'voice' of  harker.  Who, much like the harker in the Dracula novel, finds himself a hapless victim of someone with the power to give him eternal life.  Not that he ever really wanted to 'trade' being amongst the living to walk with the dead but it was something he HAD to SUBMIT to because of his ineptitude to resist the force of a hypnotic vamp.

Harker's journal  by Vamp Janca

May 3:  Left Boston at 6pm for flight to Vienna with connection to Hungary.  Purpose: real estate deal with a "Mistress Janca" wishing to purchase an 'abode' in Boston area. Had my heart set on visiting Budapest but location of Janca was in a less traveled if not 'forgotten' town around which the infamous "iron curtain" was built.

May 4: I stumbled into a small underground wine cellar.  If not for the intoxicating violin music of gypsies coming from it, the smell of crackling sausages, and the hidden trap door under foot, such a place surely would have escaped my notice. I asked: "Can you tell me where the cellar of Mistress Janca is?"  All movement and merriment stopped. Rosy wine flushed faces drained into a white pallor of stone cold stares. All that could be heard was the sizzle of shriveling sausages amidst a blackened air redolent of charred meat. Abruptly what resumed was the frantic hand waving of frenzied genuflection's and cross wielding. The words; "Az Istanem rang through my ears in tune with the unrelenting chanting of it by the village folk.  ("Oh MY GOD!  it means).

"So, where can I find a cab to the cellar of Mistress Janca?" I asked, not knowing what to think by the reception I got.  I mean, perhaps it was a private function which was not open to tourists.  Finally, someone answered:  "Her cellar is located at Tarody Var.  No cab will take you all the way there.  Tarody Var is the 'crazy person's castle' and the towns people stay far away from the residents there.  "It's a tourist trap and when we villagers say 'tourist trap,' it means just that!  No tourist who has ever visited has ever left there.  The occupants there are known to come into the town at midnight and for this reason the town has an 11;59 curfew.  Mistress Janca has made WIDOWS of many good wife's by turning their men into zombies.  You must not go there for your own good."

Well, I always heard that she was a vamp but it's kind of surprising how these small villagers seem to inject so much superstition here.  Anyway, I needed to find a cab and persisted toward this objective.  "Lajos will drive you as far as Csengeny utca but from there you must make your way up a winding rocky hill which is heavily wooded and highly populated with brown fruit bats.  Take this umbrella with you. You will need it."  Lajos drove as far as he would go and handed me a book entitled: "The Joy of Sexual Abstinence" and said:  "If you feel her luring you, hold up this book.  It will protect you from her abusive indulgences with your manhood."  I took the book but in the back of my mind thought it intriguing to be taken sexual advantage of in such an implied perverse way.

Book in rear pocket and nap sack on my back, I began the grueling rocky climb up the sinuous path to Tarody var, home of Mistress Janca's cellar.  Slipping on a slug, I fell on my ass and could feel the corner of that book almost 'buggering' me.  Before I could get up, I was met by a single horse and cart which was full of over spilling grapes.  "Hova hova"  said the driver.  "Too Mistress Janca," I said.  " A bolond?"  Thinking that he was conveying that Mistress Janca was a blonde, I said "Yeah!"  I will note to my readers that Mistress Janca has black hair and the words "A bolond" in Hungarian actually mean "The Crazy."

Damned well knowing there were to be no other options as far as transportation went, I got in the back and dealt with the oozing gushiness of all those grapes being crushed by my entry into the cart.  The moon was full, the sky clear and I had never seen so many birds out at that time of night.  So odd that it seemed to be raining too--until--I remembered the words of Lajos; "Take this umbrella", and realized what was over head were the fruit bats. 

"Stop. Let me out of here" I begged to the driver, so I could turn back. He was GONE. As a bat tried to lodge itself into the horses ear the horse bucked up and down in wild annoyance. "Whoa", I screamed but the horse charged faster and faster. ("Whoa" to a Hungarian horse sounds like "Jo" which means; 'good, keep going') Resigning my self to a sense of the futility of being a hapless creature of circumstance in my pursuit of Mistress Janca, I tried to console myself by nibbling on some of the grapes.  I could feel my 'sanity' 'leaving me.  "Must be something in the grapes" I thought.  Indeed so as by the end of a cluster of them, I felt as wild and free as a crazy fruit bat.

May 5, midnight: The horse and cart came to an abrupt stop and again, the book in my back pocket felt like someone trying to bugger me from behind.  Ironic given it's title; "The Joy of sexual abstinence".  In front of me looked to be the remains of a 12 century ruin.  Looking above, I noticed I was standing right below a giant spiked wrecking ball hoisted up with thick rope to a partially demolished turret.  Stepping aside, I saw the entry door in front of me.  Struggling with the piece of heavy cast iron used for the knocker, I managed to lift it enough to use it as such.  I waited and waited until I heard the sound of heels clicking against stone and clicking harder and harder with time.  I guess someone had to come up from a long and winding flight of stairs to answer the door.

When the door opened, I was met by a striking ample breasted woman with long black hair and a see through black top. Although I wished her hair were shorter because I was trying to catch a peak of her nipples and her hair was covering them.  "I bid you Velcome" said the woman, "I am Mistress Janca."  I said; "Has anybody ever told you you  look like Gloria Holden who played the part in 'Dracula's Daugther''"?   "Yes. Look into my EYES and tell me more."

"Well, I've always liked her.  She's my favorite and you do resemble her a lot." I said.  "Ah, Harker--- Listen to me; we are both be creatures of the night and oh what music we shall make."  Upon hearing her lollingly hypnotic voice, I was spell bound.  She had an accent where she placed stress on the first syllable of each word.  A way of speaking which was almost musical and to listen more lead me into a trance like state.

"Do you hunger?  Vhat do you hunger for Harker?  I can satisfy your every hunger.  Tell me what you crave.  Tell me" she said in a demurely yet deviously demanding manner. "Do you have any potato chips"?, I asked.  "I shall have my servant show you the dinner table.  There you will find many delicacies but sorry to say, we don't have much in the way of American junk food here."  I was lead to a torch lit room with a make shift dinner table constructed from a coffin top and 2 winged gargoyles where I sat down to a bottle of "Bull's Blood" wine and bowl of Veal Paprikas.  Rich delicious and flavorful it was and my taste buds alive with the 'fire' of Hungarian paprika.  "Mistress Janca, why aren't you joining me in this delectable meal?"  I snorted.  "That stuff is full of pork fat and sour cream.  If I want to eat around here, I've got to leave the country and go to Austria for a salad." Well, she did have a beautiful bod, so kind of made sense that she did not fill it up with pork fat and sour cream.

"What's with this Bull's Blood wine?  Sounds like something  Vampires would drink" I asked.  "The grapes that grow here carry the 'life' of the land.  The blood is the life. The land is the life.  The land is fertile and strong like bull.  That's why our wine is called "Bull's Blood"".  I kind of got the feeling she was trying to tempt me to imbibe with the objective of tormenting me somehow afterwards.   I could not put my finger on it but she kind of had the type of movement and posture one associates with "Carmen" and bullfighters but perhaps it could have been some of the paraphernalia she had decorated the walls with like castanets, impaling devices, bull's horns and I also saw one of those spring loaded NOSE CLIPS they lead the bull around with. (With which, she found a different use for my case.)  As I drank more of the wine, my prior apprehensions proved to be valid. I did NOT find myself being 'strong like bull.'  I felt like a bull but one who was being run around in circles and about to be GORED.

May 5 11.59am: I woke up the next morning but remember not what transpired during the night.  My ass was sore and when I tried to get out of bed, my range of motion was somewhat immobilized by shackles and chains affixed to the structure I was bound on which on closer inspection was NOT bed at all.  Despite my predicament, not to mention the pain and discomfort of it, I had a raging morning erection unlike any erection I have ever had before. 

"This can't be 'MY cock" I said to myself because I'm usually such a small dicked wimp who can't keep it up.  At that point Mistress Janca appeared clad in a leather thong, high heels, thigh high fishnets and a cut out bra.  "No, NOW, it's MY cock. I've transformed you into a stiff dicked sexual slave.  Damned right, it can't be 'your' cock.  You know you were such a wimp before you came here and a fool to boot considering you were warned not to by the towns folk.  You're not worthy of leading a normal functional life outside of here and have not the capacity of ever satisfying your wife in bed.  She's probably had to fake every orgasm with you and will probably be happier to find she's going to get all that life insurance money once they assess you as 'dead'. If you choose to escape back into the 'free' world where men are in control, you will revert back to being sexually dysfunctional. You and men like you, are all slaves to your penis. Only through transferring that slavery to me will you have an eternal erection. Being slave to your penis alone is what renders you inept to use it. That is because your penis is an incompetent master. It is better to be my slave than to be useless in the free world. "

I mean, this woman was giving me some low blows in the insult/humilaton department but unlike my wife (who pretty much cajoled and hen pecked me too), my dick would get stiffer when Mistress Janca said that stuff to me.  Then I noticed her nipples of those delectably ripe breasts of hers getting hard too as she snipped at me.  She leaned over me so they were almost in my mouth but just out of tongues reach, grabbed my cock and said; "Do you know what I looooove to do with big raging hard ons?"  At this point my manhood was about to shoot to the moon.  "Whaaaaaaat?"  I said, fighting back the urge to cream the ceiling.  "I like to practice hand/eye coordination.....ha haa  ha" and proceeded to swat my cock harder and harder with a forceful wrist snapping motion of her practiced hand.  "Does it hurt?"  "Ouch" I said.  "Well I want you to now feel this pain as a perverse sense of masochistic pleasure.  It's what you NEED to merit my constant attentions and to maintain your erection into eternity.   She continued swatting my wacker and then 'upped the ante' by using a blue suede whip.
The frantic sounds of whipping, whacking and slapping intensified the sensations of the STING of it all.  I felt as if I stuck my dick into a hive of killer bees but also felt that the honey to be tasted was worth the suffering.  "Now harker," she said.  "Remember you asked about the Bull's Blood and I told you that the 'blood is the life' and you know that vampires like to drain this?"  At this point, I was fearing that she would 'show her teeth'. I screamed: "Oh please, don't kill me now. I can't die with all these sins on my conscience, all this blood on my hands!" What a relief. When she did show her teeth; no overbite and a really nice smile.

May 5, 11.59pmt: "The semen is the life force and I shall drain you now of your life force"  Before I knew what was happening to me, I felt myself being 'impaled' from behind, then 'grabbed by the horn' and drained of any life giving seed that there was there to be spilled.  My last words before "passing over to the other side" were; "I'm coming for you Mistress Janca"