lengthy necks striped with black and blue, as well as the massive torso that supported them, came into view. The torso was so thick, two grown men would have trouble reaching around it. The long necks swooped down at D, wrapping around and around the powerfully built man held captive by the bonds of their black hair. For its part, the hair continued its tiny wriggling movements below D’s clothes.
“We can break your bones whenever it suits us,” the oldest sister said, her red eyes ablaze as she stared at D’s face. The fire in her eyes was an inferno of lust. “But you’re such a gorgeous man. Such a well-proportioned man.” Her tongue licked D’s cheek.
“Verily. Lo these past three centuries we’ve not seen one so beautiful.” The moist lips of the second sister toyed with D’s earlobe from behind. Her hot, rank breath blew into his ear.
“But we won’t kill you. The three of us will see to it you taste more than your share of unearthly rapture, and then drain you to the marrow.” The youngest sister fairly moaned the words.
The source of the Midwich Medusas’ life was not only the energy they derived from the consumption of living organisms. With bizarre abilities only demons possessed, they reduced strapping men and lovely women in the bloom of youth to wanton creatures aching with desire, then imbibed the aura of pure rapture the victims’ radiated at their peak—this was the secret of the three sisters’ immortality, and this was how they had lived on since before the vampires, since the ancient times when humans ruled.
Of course, that wasn’t to say they would feed on just anyone. The sisters were gourmands in their own way. Though the Count had sent hundreds of people into the subterranean world, and still others had wandered in from various entrances, the sisters hadn’t tasted pleasure like this for centuries, and had devoured their victims’ flesh greedily but joylessly year after year. Now the time had come for pleasure to burn through their shared body once again. A heady blush tinged the three beautiful faces, their eyes danced with flames, and the hot breath spilling from their vermilion lips threatened to melt D’s frostily gorgeous visage.
“Well now,” the oldest sister fairly moaned. Three sets of damp, bewitching lips closed in on the firm iron gate that was D’s mouth.
The instant their lips met his, the sisters saw it. They saw the crimson blood-light glinting from D’s eyes. It dealt a mysterious blow to their wicked minds. In that instant, the three sisters felt a sweet thrill racing through their body, the likes of which they’d never experienced before.
“Oh, those lips,” the oldest sister said in a husky voice.
“Show me your throats,” a low, rusty voice commanded.
Without time to comprehend it was D’s voice they heard, the sisters raised their necks as one and brought the slick white base of their throats to D’s lips. Something told them there was no other way to snuff the feverish excitement gnawing its way through their bodies. The Midwich Medusas’ wits were no longer functioning properly.
“Undo your hair.”
D’s limbs were immediately set free. His right hand returned his sword to its sheath while his left scooped up a fistful of hair.
“A trap baited with pleasure—but who caught whom?” Before his muttered words had faded, D dropped the strands he held and pulled the three lengthy necks to himself with both arms. “I don’t like doing this, but it’s the only way to find a way out of here. Someone’s waiting for me.” As he spoke, his eyebrows suddenly rose and his eyes rolled back. His lips spread wide, exposing a pair of fangs. Brutal and evil, his visage was that of a vampire.
There in the darkness, what happened in the moments that followed?
The cries of the women melded with the repeated splash of their tail beating the water’s surface, suggesting unearthly delights had just taken mastery of them. It was the sisters who
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