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"If you let Countess Dracula up there take your cock in her mouth," Nicole asked as we made our way under cover of night up the long and winding road to the castle, "how do you know you'll ever get it back out again?"

"Ah, but that's the fun of it, my little cupcake," I informed her, giving her invisible nude bottom an affectionate fondle. "Of all the games of chance a man can play, in none are the stakes as high as they are in the game I call Transylvanian Roulette. Get it. 'Stakes'," I added, handing her a bag of the same.

"Yeah, right," muttered Nicole, unimpressed by my little verbal jest. "And do you have to call me your little cupcake?"

"Well, you know how much I like eating cupcakes," I replied, turning to give her invisible cheek a kiss and finding that I had missed and inserted my tongue in her ear by mistake.

"Urggh," I grimaced, "you really must learn to clean the wax out of your ears. It tastes terrible."

"I bet you can't catch me," Nicole cried playfully slipping from my embrace. "I'm over here. No, not over there, over here."

Thus followed a delightful game of "Blind Man's Bluff" in which the reward for me was to "cop a feel" occassionally of Nicole's firm young bottom or boobs. At last I managed to throw my arms around her invisible body and hold her close to me, while I ran my hands down over her sweet soft breasts with their little stiff nipple buds. She was breathing hard from her exersion and the feel of her tender breasts and belly rising and falling under my hands as they swept down her body caused my cock to become rock hard in my pants. At last I reached the soft forest of curly hair that covered her region of pleasure. Delving into this delicious forest, the fingers of my right hand slid between the slippery warm lips of her sex.

"Feeling a little horny, Nicole?" I whispered in her ear.

"You know how the prospect of a good staking gets me hot," she answered. She thrust her wet crotch hard against my fingers and I masturbated her to a quick climax. Then before I knew it she thrust her bum back hard against my stiff cock, shook herself free of my grasp and, judging from the ever-receding sound of her giggling, ran off through the trees.

I tried to follow her but I was a little uncertain about which direction she had taken. Then just when I thought that I was going to have to give up and beg for her to come back to me, my questing hands made contact with invisible naked flesh once more.

Something is wrong here, I told myself, as I ran my hands over what felt like a fat, hairy, very masculine backside.

"Nicole, that's not you, is it?" I asked.

"Shhhh," came a masculine voice out of thin air, as I noticed for the first time a shotgun that hovered in mid-air in front of me, thankfully pointing in the opposite direction, "be vewy, vewy, quiet. I'm hunting wabbits. With the help of Bwunhilda's invisibiwity formula. Heh, heh, heh."

"This way, silly," Nicole's voice whispered in my left ear, as her hand grasped my wrist and dragged me back to the road. "So what's our modus operandi when we get to the castle," she asked, deciding that the time for frivolity was over.

"Our what?" I asked.

"Our plan!" she exclaimed, sounding as if she thought I was stupid or something.

"Well the main thing is not to let on that I have company," I explained. "You're invisible but your camera, not to mention the stakes and hammer are not. That's why I've put them all in a black bag here. In the poor light of the castle the black bag will be hard to see, but the important thing is to not take anything out of it unless Fang Face is looking the other way. Getting your action shots won't be easy, but we've done this sort of thing before. You know what you're dealing with."

"How are you going to get her in a position were we can stake her?" she asked.

"I have a plan. You leave that up to me. The main thing is that you be ready to jump into action when I call for you," I warned her. "No last minute camera shots. Even if you do think they're good enough to make the cover of the magazine. That cover photo of me and the Abominable Snow Woman nearly cost me my life. Even as it is I ended up in hospital for six weeks with frost-bite of the dick."

"Don't worry," Nicole assured me, "I want you to live through this. Even if only to make you follow through on that 'eating cupcake' gag."

"All right," I said, as we came in sight of the castle, "no more talking. From now on, I have to make it look like I'm alone."

When I reached the huge door of the castle, I found it ajar just like the old man had. Like him I knocked and then entered. I didn't look back to see if the hovering black bag of vampire-killing tools was following me. I just had to trust that Nicole would do the right thing.

I searched the castle for Miss Bloodsucker. I looked in all the rooms downstairs. The torches along the walls and in the bedrooms had been lit. It was obvious that I was expected, but where was my hostess?

Maybe it was a little too early. It was not quite midnight yet, and I knew that vampires could rise as soon as the sun went down. But maybe the lady in question had an overdeveloped sense of the dramatic and would make her appearance right on the witching hour.

I made my way upstairs and entered the master bedroom. The old man may have chosen the servant's quarters, but I was an invited guest. I took off my shoes and socks and threw myself down on the bed, and adopted a casual hands-behind-the-head posture which spoke of a nonchalance that I hoped I would be able to continue with once I was confronted with the evil cocksucker herself. Beneath this heroic front my heart was pounding and my bowels were gripped with an icy fear. I was glad they were gripped with something. Loosing control of one's bowels in a situation like this might be perfectly natural, but it doesn't photograph well. At this thought, as if by synchronicity, a flashbulb went off from the corner of the room. Nicole was taking an establishing shot. I hoped she would remember to switch to the infrared function on her camera when we had company.

I was right about Little Miss Queen of Darkness. She was one for the dramatic entrances and made one just as the clock struck twelve.

With her floor-length black cape and the high collar that stood up around the back of her neck, she looked for all the world like the evil queen in Walt Disney's "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves". She lost her G rating though when she spread the cloak in a dramatic gesture to reveal that she was totally naked beneath. With her round full breasts, flat stomach and profuse jet-black pubes, set off as they were by the deathly pale colour of her skin, she was a Siren who could lure any red-blooded man to his death.

"Is that a sharpened stake in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" she enquired with a seductive smile. She must have had Foxtel. How else does a vampire woman living in the Carpathian mountains get to see Mae West movies?

"Now would I try that kind of trick?" I asked her, unzipping my pants and pulling both them and my underpants down around my knees, so that she could see that the long hard object that had been hidden within was all my own. I pulled them off my legs and threw them down on the floor.

"Nice cock you have there, Van Helsing," she complimented me. "I told you that you would not be able to resist the ultimate pleasure."

Moving with superhuman speed and athleticism she leapt up onto the end of the bed and crouched there like an eagle contemplating it's helpless rodent dinner. Her legs were spread wide and she moved her right hand down to carress the dripping wet gash between them. The drops that hit the bedclothes hissed and sent up a cloud of vapour. The pussy-juice of a vampire is pure acid.

"Do you really think you can go on forever preying on the innocent peasants of this region?" I asked her.

"The death of my innocent victims makes me come," she growled, sliding two fingers in and out of her gaping cunt. "Just because mine is a minority form of sexuality, doesn't make it any the less legitimate."

At this moment I heard a strange sound from the corner of the room, like that of a small vessel being filled with water. Looking over briefly I saw a chamberpot miraculously filling with a clear yellowish liquid which seemed to appear out of mid-air and which steamed in the cold air. Nicole always did have a weak bladder in tense situations.