Dracula's Halloween Orgy

Larry found himself beginning to regret his spur of the moment decision to hop out of the moving carriage and lope along beside it. The long ride up the mountain road from the tiny village was wearing on his nerves, especially the incessant buffeting he was receiving in the creaking, driverless carriage the Count had sent down for him. He could never seem to get used to that pounding, uncomfortable trip year after year, even less so when he realized that the horses were unguided in their galloping trek up the rocky cliffs of the Transylvanian Alps.

He felt he could depend on his own lupine skills and instincts much more than a pack of snorting, unholy steeds, so, with little actual thought, he had leaped from the carriage and easily matched its speed with his own four paws. It was the first Halloween in decades in which the moon was radiantly full, and he felt his bestial power at its fullest. As always, the beast in him took over. With hardly any effort, breathing as easily as a man strolling at a leisurely pace, he ran beside the bouncing carriage rather than remain a captive inside it.

What he hadn't planned on, however, was the sudden storm which had come up over the mountain and descended upon it's entire southern slope like an avenging angel. Oh, it wasn't the howling wind nor the driving rain which heaped regret upon him, but rather the effects of those elements on his pristine fur. What bristles weren't matted by rain, were just as thoroughly whipped by the incessant wind into unruly knots and spikes. How dismally unattractive.

Dracula's Halloween parties were renowned far and wide as THE place to howl, if he could forgive himself the pun. Every year the most incredibly seductive and succulent women were in attendance...hand picked by the Lord of the Undead to service the needs of himself and his fellow revelers. Every curvaceous wench Dracula could lure up from nearby villages and countrysides was there for the tasting...in more ways than one. Any decadent desire his guests could come up with were immediately catered to by any woman, or man, they chose. The ones who weren't mesmerized by the undead Lord's cold eyes and hypnotic gaze were convinced in other ways...usually by sharp fangs, which drained both blood and will. Any depraved act a guest wished carried out for them, was theirs. In short, refusal was not an option. To Dracula's credit, however, he had chosen his "party favors" well. Lusty, bawdy women with a sexual glint in their eyes, were his usual choice...and they generally gave themselves to his guests willingly. Likewise, horny, virile men with that same glint were chosen for his female guests to enjoy. Only rarely did one of his hand-picked playthings refuse to satisfy the urges of a guest...and such infractions were dealt with swiftly and...with sudden finality.

But even though he knew he could have any woman he wanted throughout the entire weekend, any way he wanted her, Larry still had his pride...and vanity. He wished to seduce woman after woman with his hirsute beauty and bestial charm. But this impetuous little jaunt beside the carriage in windswept rain was rendering his lupine beauty null and void. It would take some work - and, regrettably, time - to spruce himself up once he got to the castle. For only when he was in his full animalistic beauty could he seduce and conquer slave after love slave to quench his sexual thirsts. This little scampering adventure would cost him only time, but it was time he could have spent having his way with one or two of Dracula's little "party favors". Oh, well...he would have to enjoy those he did ravage that much more thoroughly to make up for it. The thought made his toothy snout curl into a wicked smile...and his thickly sinewed legs propelled him up the mountain ever faster.

Easily outdistancing Dracula's dark steeds and their bouncing, creaking burden, Larry arrived at the castle a good half mile ahead of it. Even so, the pelting rain had done its damage. With a throaty huff and snarl, Larry shook himself from head to tail, ejecting gallons of rain water from his drenched fur. Somewhat protected from the elements by the stone archway above the massive door, he ran one hairy paw along his soaked body, noting with a tiny mote of satisfaction that he'd done an adequate job of drying himself. He also noticed something else, however. As always, his sudden transformation from man to wolf had left his clothing somewhat the worse for wear. There was next to nothing left of his shirt, and his pants were reduced to tattered briefs. It was anyone's guess where his shoes might be. If he was lucky, they might have survived the change and still be hiding somewhere in Dracula's coach. If not, no matter, as he had plenty of clothing in his suitcase. A werewolf was always prepared with extra clothing during the nights of the full moon. And, on a more pleasant note, his current near naked appearance seemed rather sexy to him, and would to the "party favors" too, he thought. Again his muzzle formed a toothy grin.

As he rapped the old iron knocker against the solid oak of the door, he saw the steed-drawn carriage entering the servants area, to be relieved of any passengers or cargo by those charged with doing so. He wondered if they would be surprised at the lack of a guest inside, but the presence of luggage. Then he thought better of it. This was, after all, Dracula's castle...and more specifically, Dracula's castle on Halloween night... the night all the creatures of the night got together for one hell of an orgy! Surely, once they saw the name Talbot on the suitcases they'd simply bring his belongings to whatever room Dracula assigned him and leave it at that. Servants rarely asked questions with so many lethal claws and fangs about.

His musings were cut short by the loud creaking of the castle door. By the time he turned his head to see who would be greeting him, he was being crushed in a vice like hug. His super sensitive nostrils were assaulted by two of his favorite scents...alcohol, and blood.

"Larry, you old hound dog, you! We've been vaiting for you! Come inside. But...you're soaking vet. Vas there an accident viss the coach?" The thick, Transylvanian accent bore into his keen, pointed ears as he felt powerful hands whisking him sharply into the cavernous main hall.

Larry returned his old friend's enthusiastic greeting, his tail wagging involuntarily, despite his conscious efforts to discourage it from doing so. In his throaty growl he replied, "Oh, my own fault, really. When the moon comes up I get restless and I just couldn't sit in your carriage, though it's a lovely carriage indeed," he lied. "I just had to run on my own power, and then this damnable storm blew up out of nowhere, destroying my lovely fur."

Dracula chuckled his slow, emphatic laugh, clapping Larry on the back of his tattered shirt. "Vell," he said with a wink, "you von't be needing clothes much this veekend anyvay. I have some of my best ever party favors for you this year. Now, dry off a bit and join us in the ballroom, von't you?" Before Larry could reply, his host snapped his fingers for a servant girl to bring a towel for him.

Larry's right leg began to twitch, his paw involuntarily tapping repeatedly on the stone floor, like a puppy whose belly was being rubbed. His tail wagged faster than a hummingbird's wings, quickly wearing out the material of what remained of his pants. His eyes grew huge and his long tongue licked his lupine lips. The servant girl dripped with sexuality, her hips swaying hypnotically as she hurried to him with the luxuriant towel. Larry, ravenous eyes piercing the skimpy maid's outfit to the flesh beneath, still retained enough brain power to reach out for the towel, although he wanted to touch much more.

"Oh, no," he heard Dracula say as if from a great distance, "That vill not do. No...not at all, my dear. The volfman is my guest. He is to be treated viss the utmost respect. You vill vait on him as you do me. He should not have to dry himself. That is vhat you are here for, my dear. YOU vill dry him. And do it immediately. Remove his clothing and dry him from head to paw. Be thorough, now...for your life might very well depend on it. There's a good girl. Be quick about it...my friend has some partying to do!" With a flourish of his billowing cape, the count turned and bounded off for the next room. The unmistakable sounds of revelry issued forth from that room as the vampire lord quickly entered and shut the doors behind him. In the instant before the door closed, however, he turned back to see the servant girl approaching Larry with the towel, and the gleeful look on the werewolf's face. Vampire and werewolf exchanged knowing winks.

Eyes downcast, the servant girl walked up to Larry and held the towel in one hand while her other hand began removing wet, torn remnants of his shirt from his chest and shoulders. His paw tapped the cold stone floor a bit faster as she did. But, when she lowered herself to her knees and began removing his destroyed pants, it was all Larry could do to keep from howling.

Reaching up from her position on her knees, the girl unclasped and unzipped Larry's pants and slowly worked them down his hips to his...hind paws...at which time he stepped out of them. Dutifully, the servant girl then began to dry his matted fur from the hind paws up, slowly and thoroughly sopping up the unwelcome moisture. By the time she got to his knees, his penis was already fully engorged, erect and bobbing slightly. Larry saw her face flush a bright crimson, but she continued her drying duties without hesitation. The astonished wolfman was beside himself with joy. He'd been at Dracula's castle mere minutes, and already his naked body was being attended to by the most delicious of human creatures. Enjoying his pampering though he was, he forced himself to speak.

"What is your name?" he asked as she toweled his upper thighs.

"I am Lorraina,sir," she replied, face still flushed and eyes focused on the area she worked on.

"Lorraina," Larry sighed, barely able to contain himself, "lovely name. You are beautiful, Lorraina."

"Thank you, sir," she replied. As he looked down at her, Lorraina's eyes seemed to have wandered from his furry thighs to his throbbing penis.

"You're quite welcome, Lorraina. Now, if you wouldn't mind, dry between my legs. It's uncomfortably wet down there. And....do take your time."

"Yes, sir," she replied, instantly complying, only a slight, expertly hidden smile creeping across her humble lips.

She worked the towel between his thighs, gently drying between them, being careful not to crush or otherwise injure his testicles. Larry's sensitive ears picked up the faintest of sighs coming from those young, sweet lips. Looking down again, he could see her eyes riveted on his ever growing erection. Those pale blue eyes seemed to be.....yes...they WERE....they were admiring his organ! And that wistful look on the young woman's face encouraged his pulsating member to grow still larger. Ahh, he thought, even with matted, disheveled fur he was the object of many a woman's fancy. It must be the wolf in him that made them react this way.

Her proximity to his muscle and the look in her eyes as she rubbed gently between his legs was slowly driving him mad. And since this was exactly what he was there for, Larry decided it was time to enjoy this wench's sweet charms. It seems his wet fur wasn't going to delay his fun in the slightest after all. In fact, ironically, this would be the fastest he'd ever gotten to enjoy one of Dracula's playthings, and he owed his good fortune to the pelting storm outside. Quite a turnabout of events...and one he could definitely live with.

"Lorraina, dear...this is much too public for me. Anyone might barge in on us if we continue to stay here in this hall, so I propose we find a room all to ourselves and you can finish....drying....me. Where can we go to be alone for a while?"

Lorraina must have been accustomed to finding secluded places to dole out sexual favors, because she glanced quickly to her left, down a darkened hallway. Larry reached down and pulled her up off of her knees. He looked into her eyes - eyes which had long since lost their innocence - with his own glowing, feral ones. With a gluttonous smirk, he ushered her down the hallway. Together they walked beneath cold stone, in darkness lit only occasionally by weak, wavering torchlight. Larry still sported a long, pulsing hardon as he hurried the girl along with his large paw on her firm, round bottom, fondling it as best he could with his short, stubby fingers as they hastened to their destination.

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Inside the great ballroom, the other guests were already partying. It was a who's who of monsterdom...all the denizens of the dark wallowing in instant gratification of every possible kind under a single roof. If it shambled, crept, slunk, oozed, squirmed or lurked, it was here in Dracula's great, brooding castle, intent on having an incredibly good time.

Of course, at the head of the great room was his royal highness, the Lord of the Undead himself...the great Dracula, lounging like a bemused god on his regal throne, watching his fellow creatures of the night indulging their whims and fancies...carrying out every possible form of debauchery. Beside him, dressed in their great flowing bridal gowns - specially cleaned and de-webbed for the occasion - were his three brides, all of them adoringly fondling their lord and master, and hissing at any other females - human or inhuman - who dared to wander within a dozen yards of their king. Smiling wickedly, Dracula had roughly pulled down the top of the gown of the bride to his left and was openly fondling her exposed breast as he proudly watched his cavorting guests. The large, brown-pink nipple - contrasted starkly against pale, bloodless vampire skin - showed its approval. On the opposite side of the fanged ruler, a second bride took advantage of his arousal, reaching beneath his flowing cape, slipping her hand into his pants, and gleefully stroking the sturdy muscle it found throbbing there.

The monstrous guests were, for the most part, disrobed already or, at the very least, partially so. Assorted capes, top hats, operatic vestments and bandage wraps lay strewn about the room, presumably to be reclaimed by their owners at some future time. Likewise, a myriad of disguises - fake human appendages, masks and such - had been discarded and carelessly tossed around the room like so many dismembered or eerily deflated human beings. Tonight, all the loathsome creatures of the darkness could be themselves, not needing their usual disguises to help them blend in as they crept about the human world. Here, at Dracula's Halloween orgy, one could be oneself...without fear of being harassed, beaten and torched by angry villagers or well-prepared monster hunters.

This year, Dracula's guests had received an added treat. The always unpredictable Mr.Hyde had brought along a large supply of his special elixir. He felt that since it worked wonders for him, a small amount added to each of the various punch bowls scattered about the great ballroom should make for a memorable party indeed. And he was far from wrong. Even some of the lower ghouls, generally a reticent bunch, were cavorting about humping anything they could get their brittle dicks into. And the vampires...oh, what an effect it had on them! Just a couple of small capfuls mixed into their private bowl of spiked gore had driven them insane. Always known for being a bit on the kinky side, the vampires tonight were trying simply everything. Of particular amusement to Mr. Hyde was the vampire daisy-chain of about a dozen vamps, male and female, that had formed high above on the arched ceiling...a moving blur of beating wings and sucking mouths. It was hard to tell who was sucking whom! With a shiver of distaste, Mr. Hyde made a mental note not to stand under that circle of lust when the spurting began. Just the thought of vampire cum raining down on his tophat-less head, or landing with a plop in his drink, was enough to make his stomach churn.

In the case of the invisible man, it simply stood to reason that he must be entirely naked, as he was nowhere to be seen. Only the occasional "Oooh!" shouted by one of Dracula's servants or playthings as an invisible hand took liberties, gave the others a hint as to his current location. And that surprised exclamation as a private part was invisibly groped was not limited to female party favors alone. Apparently, the invisible man intended to enjoy all of Dracula's playthings, male or female. And no matter how shocked they might be at fingers they could not see removing their clothing or exploring wherever they pleased, those same party favors were not allowed to resist in any way. No matter what task they were performing for their master or his rowdy friends, they had to endure whatever a guest might wish to do to them. And the invisible man took full advantage of this, along with his unique advantage of being cloaked in invisibility. Hence, many a bottle of bubbly was spilled thanks to unseen hands. It brought the invisible man no end of amusement. And his covert groping continued unabated.

The mummy, hidden for millennia beneath rotting bandages, had become quite the closet exhibitionist over the centuries. He had eagerly removed his musty bandages not five minutes after crossing Dracula's threshold. And now, only a few hours into the revelry, he was already receiving his first hummer. One of Dracula's more enthusiastic toys was on her knees sucking away at the mummy's short but rather plump sausage. As that talented mouth sucked away at him, his yellowed eyeballs rolled up in his head, his shriveled tongue licking where his lips used to be. With each shudder of pleasure that shook his body, joints creaked and moaned. Coupled with his panting, the resulting sound was very much like the worn sound track of a 1960s haunted house triple feature.

Unseen, the invisible man crept up behind the sucking servant as she gobbled the mummy's meat. Slowly reaching under the skimpy maid's outfit, he suddenly and deftly slipped three fingers beneath the flimsy fabric and thrust his invisible fingers into her young, soft pussy. As with all the others that had been prodded by those indulgent hands, the reaction was the same. The young maid, the mummy's cock still throbbing in her mouth, let out an involuntary scream. The effect was nothing short of hilarious.

One moment her mouth was sucking dried, rolled parchment, and the next her surprised shriek reversed that action. Her gasp sent air rushing INTO the mummy's pulsating schlong instead of her mouth sucking it out. As a result, the poor mummy became the embarrassed center of attention. That sudden insurgence of air into his ancient, dried body had seemingly created a pocket of air with no place to go...save, unfortunately, one. With an all too loud "POOOOOT!" that air found its way out his shriveled anus, accompanied by a sizable, puffy cloud of desert brown dust. Everyone in the room howled with laughter, even the stoic Dracula himself. If the mummy's cheeks - the ones on his face - had had any blood coursing through them at all, they would surely have turned a bright, glowing pink.

Mr. Hyde, ever the crude one, laughed raucously and croaked, "Ha ha, Mums....gives a whole new meaning to 'blow it out yer ass', dunnit?" Again, a chorus of laughter...and an odd mixture of cackles, chortles and demonic giggles it was.

The mummy could only sigh and accept the humiliation. After all, he wasn't about to let it put a stop to his blow job. Glancing down at the lovely young creature - or human - with his dick still in her mouth, he simply said, "Please continue, sweet thing. But, please, suck...don't blow." To the invisible man, whom he now knew must be present behind the startled girl, he cautioned, "And Vizzy...you can make her cum, but don't make her blow again, okay?" The invisible man's chuckle confirmed him as the culprit, his invisible grin seen by no one.