Author's Notes: This is entirely movie-based, even though I have read the book. The cut right after the scene with the femvamps has triggered my imagination ever since I saw this film at the cinema in 1992. At long last I sat down to write what my mind conjured up.

He Belongs To Me!

By LdyBastet


He belongs to me!

Jonathan watched in horror as the demonic women, who had so recently lavished their filthy yet seductive attentions upon him, descended on the infant. As its cries were cut short, he himself cried out in horror and denial. He had understood that he was virtually a prisoner in this castle, but this... The cruelty of the Count and the sheer terror of all that had happened made him weak, and as he fell back onto the bed, the room was spinning slowly.

The Count laughed at him and floated slowly, menacingly in his direction. Too soon was he upon Jonathan, his clawed fingers around his neck, making small incisions in his skin. When he spoke, it was with a throaty growl, his accent thick.

"I will not let them gorge themselves on your blood. It belongs to me!"

Jonathan tried to pry the long fingers holding him in a vice-like grip from his neck, but to no avail. The Count had no intention of letting him go. Instead he continued with what the succubi had begun, moving his free hand over Harker's chest and ripping off the shreds that remained of his shirt.

Darkness closed in on his mind, like wisps of smoke trying to choke him. There was a peculiar numbness spreading through his body as the Count looked at him intently, and Jonathan realized that he could not look away from those eyes. Somehow his gaze was trapped, and he felt as if his every thought was laid bare to the monster pinning him down.

Everything became unfocused, except for Dracula's eyes, gleaming eerily in the faint light of the candles; then they too were lost to Jonathan as he fainted. When he came to a few moments later, he was naked, the rest of his clothes having been removed while he was unconscious. The hand around his neck was gone, but Jonathan felt sluggish, and his limbs would not obey him. A shadow fell over him and he looked up into the Count's face.

"You are awake. Good. It is so... tedious... to torment someone who cannot appreciate the effort." Dracula smiled at Harker, and dragged a fingernail over his chest. The nail cut easily through the skin, leaving a thin red line of blood in its wake. The Count leaned closer and licked at the cut with a growl like a wild animal.

Moving his hands over Harker's young body, Dracula appraised his victim like one would a horse at market, trying to determine if the goods are worth the expense. "So young, so... fresh. And like all young males, making the mistake to think that you are worthy of the attentions of a lady..." His voice was smooth, soft, but with an undertone of danger. The Count suddenly grabbed Jonathan's genitals in one hand, squeezing them hard.

Harker cried out, both from pain and terror. To have the most private parts of his body clawed at by this animal in the guise of a man was the most terrible thing that he had ever experienced. The previous bite on his groin by the succubus paled in comparison. There had been a twisted form of pleasure in that; in this there was only cruelty.

"I will teach you otherwise. These are of no use to anyone." The voice was now openly hostile; this was no threat, this was a statement, a promise of something dreadful to come. Jonathan relaxed slightly when Dracula let go of him. At least it did not look like the gruesome Count would rip them off, and he felt deeply relieved by that fact. He would not put it past him to do such a thing, especially after having seen him happily give a baby over to the hands of its death.

The long-fingered hands moved over Jonathan's thighs, caressing them slowly, lightly. He tried to order his arms and legs to take him away from this madman, from this humiliatingly vulnerable position, but it was like his body did not regard him. He felt close to paralysed, impotent with fear. Harker had no idea what the Count wanted from him, but he was reluctant to find out, certain that it could only be something horrible... Trying hard to shut out every impression from his body and brain, he closed his eyes, hard.

Jonathan's eyes flew open again when he felt his legs being lifted straight up in the air, and he could feel the soft silk of the Count's robe against the back of them as they were placed over his shoulders. The fabric brushed obscenely soft against the back of his thighs and his buttocks, sending a shiver through his entire body. His eyes met the gaze of Dracula, whose cruel orbs regarded him amusedly, and he felt very much like a fly caught in the web of the deadly spider, unable to escape its fate.

Dracula dragged a nail over Jonathan's inner thigh, opening up another cut. He smiled as blood began to flow, looking at it with something akin to lust gleaming in his eyes. "Blood," he said with a thick voice. "The life of all living creatures, and the source of so much... pleasure..."

Jonathan stared in disbelief as Dracula opened his night robe and rubbed his erection against the cut on his thigh, coating the hard flesh in his blood. He felt utterly revolted, and had his body responded normally, he would have emptied his stomach. As the Count lifted his legs a little higher on his shoulders, his erection brushed against Jonathan's most private place, and the young man cried out in horror once more as his slow-working brain finally understood what fate Dracula had in mind for him.

As the tip of the erection pressed harder against his puckered opening, Jonathan moved his head from side to side in denial. "You cannot do this!" was all he managed to scream at the Count, who smiled evilly back.

"Oh, but I can... and I will, Mr. Harker. Your destiny is entirely in my hands, and it is time that you learn who is the Master, and who is the bitch." With those words Dracula pushed slowly inside the unwilling body before him. The tightness was almost impossible, but the blood eased the way sufficiently to sheath him inside the young man. He savoured the cries of pain and the terrified pleas that this caused, relished the sensation of the hot, living body clenching hard around him. Dracula rocked his hips slowly against Harker's body, moving in and out at a leisurely rhythm. He was in no hurry. It was all a balance, and he preferred to keep his victim conscious, not fainting from sensory overload.

Jonathan felt as if he was cloven in two, the burning pain in his backside making him see black spots before his eyes, and he was hoping for unconsciousness to claim him once more. But he had no such luck; the Count was too well versed in the workings of the mind to push him over that edge.

After what felt like an eternity of this torture, Dracula leaned down over his face, folding him almost double in the process. The impossibly cold flesh moving inside Jonathan was now pushed harder and faster into him, and the pale face was nuzzling his neck. As Dracula thrust deeper into his body, Jonathan cried out again, from surprise this time. Through all the pain that he experienced, there had been a spike of unbelievable pleasure. That should not be possible, Jonathan thought; there was nothing about this in which he could find pleasure. No one in his right mind would enjoy this. But with the next thrust, it was there again, that moment of pleasure, cutting through the hurt, and Jonathan could feel his body react to it, making his own member harden.

Dracula growled low in his throat and licked over the pulse point in the young man's neck, smelling the blood flowing through the vein. The combination of the lust and the enticing scent of life sent a shiver of pleasure through him. He enjoyed showing this whelp the ranking order. The Count had noticed that Harker's body reacted to the treatment, the erection now squeezed between their bodies, and he made certain to give it some friction. The young man would be made to understand that he was not fit to be husband to anyone!

Jonathan could not bite back a moan as the strange, intense pleasure continued to wash over him in waves. The pain was there, of course, but it had lessened now, and it was outshone by that moment of bliss that was then fading, just to return when the Count next thrust into his body. The softness of the silk over his erection sent tendrils of contentment through him also, and the added friction of Dracula's body against his own made him shiver. The young man was both confused and revolted by his own reactions. That something so unspeakably wrong could make his body quiver in delight made him chill with despair.

The grunts and obscene moaning of the creature on top of Jonathan continued as the young man's resistance was gradually eroded. Finally Dracula could no longer resist the temptation and with a deep growl he sank his teeth into Harker's neck. Jonathan cried out from the pain as sharp fangs cut through the skin, and he could feel his blood pulse out through the incisions into the Count's sucking mouth.

There was a sensation spreading through his body, like the feeling in the air close to where lightning has just struck, and Jonathan could feel it wrap its tendrils around his mind, sending strange shivers into the most hidden recesses of his being. Through the haze in his mind he could feel his body arching into Dracula's, like a wanton whore, and then the pleasure grew into ecstasy and Jonathan's body shuddered in the throes of orgasm, spilling his seed between their bodies, one warm and alive, the other still cold as death.

Dracula licked over the puncture wounds in Harker's neck to seal them, and withdrew from his body. He laughed throatily in triumph as he left the room, the door banging shut behind him. Jonathan curled up on his side, pulling his knees up against his body. He could feel the stickiness on his stomach against his thighs, and he began to cry. His whole body shook with sobs as he thought of his beloved Mina back in London, and what had just transpired here. If he ever saw her again, how could he touch her? He was unclean, filthy. That animal of a man had used him, and he had found pleasure in it.

Jonathan wept for long hours before pain, dread and exhaustion drew a dark blanket over his mind, and he slept...

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