Date: Sun, 28 Oct 2007 16:04:59 -0400
From: Blonde Mountaineer <blondeallover@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Taboos of Transylvania

			The Taboos of Transylvania

		       by blondeallover@hotmail.com


This story is fantasy submitted in time for Halloween.  All the usual
disclaimers apply.

He could not make out where the snarling and gravelly, throaty noise had
come from as he stepped out of the rickety carriage early that dark
moonless evening. It was as if somewhere in the acoustics of the steep
ridge, someone old and throaty sounding were speaking in a primitive
language, but just before the end, he could make out the words in English
"foreigner" and "love". It was the first sign in the traveler's adventure
into this forlorn locale that something may be amiss in a supernatural
way.

His assignment for his Fleet St. employer just a year earlier had been to
write a biographical profile of the eccentric investigator of vampires,
Montague Summers. It had been Summers who had provided author of
"Dracula", Bram Stoker the inspiration to model the central character
after the historical Vlad Dracule. Summers believed in vampires and his
investigations had taken him to this difficult terrain in northern
Romania in the ethereally beautiful and steep Carpathian mountains, once
identified as Transylvania. The journalist who followed in Summers
footsteps, twelve years after the first publication of the sensational
novel, had seen autumnal visages in late October: steep escarpments and
mountainsides, gnarley old-growth forests quickly divesting themselves of
vermilion foliage, ruins of old castles, and charming antique but solid
old word dwellings of thick beamed wattle and daub and tight thatched
roofs. First rail, then motorcar had carried him to one of those larger
Romanian villages whose names he could not pronounce. That Sunday morning
he set off on the final leg of his journey to a noisy and oddly
syncopated clamor in sharps and flats from church bells within mushroom
shaped steeples. It had taken all day, traveling on bad roads through
narrow and sometimes frighteningly steep mountain passes to arrive at his
final destination in a creaky old carriage. The charming inn gave off a
warm and hospitable glow from its many lamps in what was otherwise a
deathly damp chill evening in an uninviting landscape.

"You tourists seek out your vampires." The fat innkeeper spoke with a
sort of fearful resignation in his eyes. The new guest was ingesting the
last morsels of his boiled and roasted supper. The fires crackled and
blazed in more than one fireplace in a cozy and charming interior rural
setting. The host's German was in thick vernacular dialect, but the
journalist acclimated to it soon enough. "There are as bad and worse
things in the night, though." His fat wife sat next to him on the verge
of tears, clinging to both an eastern religious icon and rosary,
whimpering as if trying to restrain her husband's open confidences.
Occasionally he would just wave her off. "We have known wolves and
werewolves. Bears and beasts we know not what of have plagued us in the
night. But such things have not been so present in the forests and
mountains in recent years. To wander about the night now, one would
surely be set upon by one of Lucifer's servants. These are demons that
are neither animal nor human, but a sort of beast like a werewolf that is
a combination of the two." The speaker kept repeating a Slavic word,
struggling for the German translation. "drool-a-cu". Finally he conjured
a word that was the same in English, "incubus".

"You know that just over the mountains is Hungary. In a convent nearby
the local Bishop of the Roman church would often visit, because one nun
or another would frequently become pregnant. In his investigations, he
would be told that the incubus would come in the night and rape them.
Finally, they reinforced the old wall around the convent and the
pregnancies stopped. But the nuns all birthed dark eyed boys of great
intelligence but unruly and disobedient dispositions. Their vandalisms
would earn them all imprisonments, but they would always disappear into
the forests just as the jailers would pursue them.

"In the mountain pass not ten miles from here, the priests tolerated a
Benedictine monastery of the Roman Church." The innkeeper lowered his
voice and glanced out of the corner of his eye almost conspiratorially.
"It is said that they could produce a good wine for the communion mass.
But some of us know they fermented a brandy wine to suit the palate of
the patriarch in Bucharest. It would seem these demons in service to the
prince of darkness also pursue men in their unholy and unnatural lusts."
His wife now truly burst into tears and her husband scolded her
impatiently. "Out of here you weeping strumpet. Our guest is entitled to
know what could injure him in his visitation." She ran off sobbing,
clutching her apron to her wet eyes and wailed into the kitchen. He
genuflected before he spoke next. "The monastery has been abandoned and
barren for nearly 50 years, and it is said that sometimes one of the
monks would be seen wandering in the open, naked in a daze, blood and
foul fluids oozing from the back hole God has given us to excrete our
dirt. Sometimes splashes of white spray, like what farmers know to be the
wet seed of horses and bulls, would smear their faces and lips. More than
one priest of our own church has ventured to investigate, never to be
seen again."

The journalist still had not shaken off the chill of the night and so
they both reseated themselves closer to one of the fires. "The most
recent was a cheerful young priest from our closest village. This makes
my wife very sad." The listener started to protest that he had never
intended to cause such distress. "No, no, no," the storyteller protested.
"You want your story for the people in the west. No matter how
unbelievable, we want people to know. Now!" He fidgeted to recollect
where he was in the continuity. "This young man of the church would
protest to his superior clerics that he would need to return on many
occasions to know the full extent of crimes committed here. Later it was
learned that, in the flush of his youth and vigor, he was corrupted and
had become a deceiver. He had been seduced in the woods and would return
to the scene repeatedly to disrobe of all his vestments and love one or
more of the beasts in the dark of the night." The storyteller crossed
himself again, his eyes rolled back as if to look to the heavens. "In the
flush of youth in God's service he had profaned himself so savagely. When
the ecclesiastical council defrocked and excommunicated him for his
crimes, he was exiled to Bucharest. It is said that he still lives and
frolics in the shabby quarter where men love each other in disgrace, in
the eyes of our Lord."

The innkeeper shifted his chair right next to his guest as if in a
gesture of intimacy. "Now I am going to tell you something that I hope
will convince a sensible man such as yourself to not venture off in our
dangerous lands in the dark of the night. It is said that the incubus,
while of varied heights is usually shorter than the average man. Despite
this, he has, in his nakedness, a disproportionately large male member
that hangs and swaggers between his legs that is much more like a
horse's. When stiff to satisfy his lusts, surely it causes great injury
to the blessed chamber of a woman from whence we all come. And for that
nearby passage from which we all must eliminate our filth, the only one
available to it among men, it must rend the vessel open into our very
viscera." The journalist thought this was quite enough offense to his
Edwardian sensibilities and was about to protest and retire to his
assigned chamber for the night. "Pardon my frankness friend, but this
must be spoken. For all its awful evilness, it is said that one glance
upon the gigantic member in its dreadful exposure, whether to a woman or
a man, the beholder is struck by a powerful seduction, a spell, a
terrible enchantment that paralyzes the poor victim, who is then
powerless but to succumb to the advances of this vile apostate from hell.
Despite what must be awful pains visited upon its victim, the poor wretch
certainly is transformed into a disciple of the devilish cult that
demands the most depraved acts of carnal debauches between humans."

The journalist reassured his host that he had no need to gallivant in
unfamiliar territory at night. He lied. In his small room he nearly
chuckled to himself as he unpacked and contemplated the depths of
imaginative superstition these isolated people have been immersed in. He
only had two days here and he certainly would wander about within as much
as two miles from the premises in the dark. He remembered to take one of
the new electric torches he had packed called a flashlight. He was amused
that the innkeeper had written a note littered with bad German spelling.
"If you are so foolish to fail to heed my advice and wander out into the
night of horrors, please take these as added protection." He openly
laughed as he snatched the rosary and three or four cloves of garlic and
stuffed them into his satin lined woolen tweed pockets.

He heard his own footsteps trudge along the road that was little more
than a stony path. They clearly had already experienced their first frost
in high elevation. There was barely any cricket or insect noises. He
thought he heard a wolf or dog howling in the distance, but it seemed to
be far enough off not to cause concern. But the dampness of the cold,
visible in the mist that clung low to the ground, chilled him to the bone
despite many layers of clothes. If he was going to find anything at night
that might suffice as the source of superstitions, he had to work fast as
his pocket watch showed it was less than an hour before midnight. The
cold irritated his swollen bladder. He remembered he had not urinated
since a stop more than six hours earlier and he stood facing the woods in
wider stance to fumble at his trouser buttons and reach in through other
layers of clothes to his respectable length of male hose and expose into
the frigid night air. He pulled back his foreskin enough just in time
when his bladder seemed to start to empty itself of its own accord. Maybe
it was the cold, but his warm discharge seemed to smell more acrid than
usual and added to the night humidity as it streamed to the cold ground.

They were upon him long before his bladder was completely empty. He never
noticed or heard their approach. Three of them, small and bundled in
monk-like cowls they were extremely powerful nonetheless and when they
restrained him, one of them grabbed hold of his penis to direct into the
woods as he continued his evacuation. He was startled and out of control,
he could not stop. The monk captor wound his penis about so that the
stream flailed on tree trunks and branches. The three of them cackled in
German, "good, good, yes, yes, pisssssss!" He was dragged into the woods,
realizing it was too far for anyone to hear him, but his struggles were
pointless for they seemed to only have the effect of tightening the grip
of the assailants. Within seconds, one of them started to tug at his
clothes as if they were starting to disrobe him. In less than a minute he
became alarmed with the progress of this activity. Both of his boots were
off and one of his stockings was being wrenched away in short order.
Short of some miracle of intervention they were going to subject him to
the humiliation of having him stripped both stark naked and of all his
dignity. His captors knew the transformation that was at hand would have
him delight in his nakedness within the hour.

He went into a sort of mental shock of denial but started to snap out of
it when the top of his undergarment was stripped away to reveal his upper
torso. The cool night air actually tantalized his exposed skin and
hardened his nipples in a sensation not like anything else since a
moonlight skinny dip frolic he had enjoyed with his new bride during
their honeymoon. He was startled to realize that he actually enjoyed the
captors tug away at the lower half of the reinforced underwear and expose
him birthday suited, in communion with an eery gothic surrounding that
seemed enthralling and blissfully connected. A nearby owl hooted in
celebration. He suddenly realized he was no longer restrained as his
captivating companions lifted their cowls and smiled mischievously when
he appreciated they were liberating themselves in nudity as well. He
wondered whether they would chase each other about in some animal-like
play. He wanted to connect himself in exuberance with his new experience
by pissing again. When it was apparent he didn't have anything to pee, it
crossed his mind to use his male organ in its other purpose of life
affirmation. That is when he heard that noise again.

It was the same gravelly voice that made him panic momentarily with a
flight response. But where would he run to? -- back to the inn to pound
on the door in his undignified disgrace and subject himself to the worst
assumptions by the ogling inn keeper and his wife? The audible
low-pitched language spoken shifted about to identifiable German and
finally, "foreigner".

Before he could run, one of his captors had picked up the flashlight and
flashed it in the direction of the approaching silhouette. The light
shone directly on what was a plainly visible animal phallus. Long, thick,
and almost purplish dark, it was festooned with a palpable glans.
Elegantly serpentine, it was decorated at its base with a magnificent
mane of dark maroon fur, almost glistening in the light with a sheen of
sensual silkiness. A line of thick fur could be seen to grow part way
from the underside of the fleshy staff. At the end was a slight tuft of
hairs like at the end of a bull phallus. The journalist was frozen with
mesmerism. How beautiful it was to be naked in the dark of night and
struck by this vision of sheer sensuality, this icon of elegant flesh
certainly worthy of worship and veneration. The low gravelly voice
continued in English. "You like what you see, foreigner. We wondered
whether we would see you tonight. " The phantom chortled. "It was not
hard to find you by the smell of your water. You humans are always the
easiest to prey upon." The naked traveler just swiveled his hips
involuntarily in the deep trance that continually heightened all his
senses. He was unaware that his own phallus was stirring to life and
stiffening out visible to his captors. "My boys," he continued. 'We have
found an easy one. The festivities will be especially raucous tonight.
Bring the naked one over here and have him take my scent. His kidnappers
dragged him over directly in front of the beast on his front and lifted
him as if to encourage him to prop himself to gently grasp the superb
flesh that hung before him. "Sniff it, foreigner. Know my power from my
wand of magic even before it turns hard."

The deep inhalation was a drug more powerful than the journalist had
known in his days of experimentation with a number of distillates of
opium. His head spun with a whole new hunger and his loins burned with an
intensity of lust he had never known with a woman. He inhaled the flesh
again and the sensuality of his nakedness now prompted him to grind and
hump his lower torso into the ground twice. "Oooooaaahhhh," he moaned.
The heated stimulus came over him like a wave of bliss and his delicious
spasms of orgasmic missive shot through on the ground all about the
beast's feet. The splendid intensity of the hot spasms of his ejaculation
were the most intense in his life and he felt energized sexually more
than ever before. Next he was encouraged to lick and suck about the
lengthening and thickening roll of magic flesh. He clung to the beasts
furry legs as he did so and warmed by the silky hairs against his bare
upper chest and shoulders. The great serpent heated, thickened, and
stiffened into a great black and blue pole. Its raw flavor was of an
intense morning dew and a vaguely sweet treat of mother earth. His head
spun even more and his loins throbbed with heat anew. He moaned with the
delirium and relished the greatest treat of his life. He licked and
sucked on the low sack of monster orbs where the juices of evil itself
percolated with fierce heat.

The beast snorted his approval as his new supplicant smacked his lips and
feasted with wild abandon only to pause every three or four minutes or so
to unleash the hot tension that would build in his loins again and again,
sending great heated increments of slithering new man seed to gush forth
from his desperately stiff and quivering bare organ on to the terrain all
about them. The creature growled and snarled in the throes of his own
mounting desires. "Yes foreigner! Kiss and suck my awful cock from hell.
Better than any man's, it is the supreme desire of all the men who are
apostles of our race. You are about to be awarded our greatest prize."
The low grizzle in his voice now thickened and strengthened in volume.
The naked captors were now stepping about in a weird sinuous dance in
unison, thumping in sympathy with the great intensely physical frenzy
that played out before them. The beast suddenly let loose a great
deafening wail into the night. His hairy head with its large wide black
eyes thrown back toward the sky. The enormous tube steak in the hands of
the helpless captive flailed about, jettisoning great shots of off white
almost burning beast seed into the attending naked man's face, mouth and
upper torso. The stench of it filled the night air, but it was an
enthralling odor, primal and fecund with a fresh ripeness. The journalist
greedily slobbered down as much of the milky nectar as he could, only
stimulating his libido even more.

For the first time, the captive noticed that a nearly full moon had risen
above the tree line and the landscape of dense intertwined forest blended
well with a greatly menacing apparition. This stocky animal, shorter than
himself was covered with the silken fur. A great head was ensconced with
large human ears except they pointed sharply at the upper ends. The mouth
was shaped almost as a snout with pointed teeth more like a dog's. On his
red forehead, two knobs on either side suggested emerging devil's horns.
Two deep set but very large eyes from a furrowed brow glared down on the
improbably naked and vulnerable captive, garnished with the most stinking
of obscenely lascivious fluids. It was a frightening but somehow
intensely sensual and erotic moment of surrender to the journalist. It
was his most enlivening moment and he reveled in his heart and soul to be
suddenly posessionless excepting all the highly sensitized body that was
released from his mother's womb. He was entirely at the mercy of a
monster in an ancient forlorn forest seemingly at the edge of the world,
but to the captive it seemed the moment of his greatest good fortune - to
be trustingly submissive to a powerful ogre of unknown genesis. The beast
suddenly moved his head from side to side and glanced at his attending
"boys", still naked. In that gravelly low pitched voice, "see that the
foreigner is laid out that he can be taken like a woman."

It was the culminating moment of truth for the journalist. All the
perfidious acts of lewdness and unparalleled subjugation to the most
decadent pleasures of the flesh led to an apparent unspeakable act of
bestiality. Yet sensations emerged in the depraved naked man's seated
orifice he had never experienced as he was shifted about so that his rump
was raised from a position of resting on his knees. He shifted his hips
in yearning that his vacancy would be filled and stretched to be skewered
alive by a monster's massive roll of heated male urge. For all the peril
to his physical well being, the captive still languished in a haze of
libidinal desires. The beast stepped menacingly from in front to around
and behind his captive. The naked man waited for the momentous impact to
his tiny anus, but instead felt a very wet and greasy slobber to the
muscled ring of his intensely personal opening. The muscle expanded
involuntarily in delight to the caress to such a sensitive exposure. His
mind flashed back to one particularly raucous event of love play with his
young wife with whom he wanted to experiment with these acts of intense
intimacy, but her mood changed instantly as she recoiled in horror. He
turned to see the beast protrude a long thin tongue with a forked end and
notice it in persistence insinuate through the barrier with its sensual
slime and grease into the captive's delighted rectum. He swooned with new
feelings of exalted lust. The vivacious feelings of liveliness instilled
a new confidence in him to be the lover of the beast and succeed in
satisfying all his beastly urges despite whatever physical assaults that
might entail.

He barely noticed the withdrawal of the tongue and rise of the creature
to bend and cling to him about his lower ribs and step up behind him to
mount him like some female four legged animal. The "boys" about him,
still ever-naked themselves, held him down as the semi-animal from hell
pointed his great phallus at the appointed spot and impaled the
vulnerable naked man with great force. The victim gasped with the flash
of instant pain. It was as if his insides extending into his vulnerable
belly were being torn asunder in a single thrust of great violence. For
all the pain and bodily shock it was as if his mind was shifting into a
domain of profound peace. Every muscle was tensed in reaction to great
injury to his person, but somehow he felt himself beautiful to be
selected by this horrible glutton for sadistic pleasure. He thought that
he could die then a passing of sensual and subservient majesty. As the
revolting creature viciously stroked his mammoth battering ram of rigid
flesh into the victim's mightily wounded cavity, he was consoled and
actually gratified by the disgusting snarling spewed by his assailant who
reveled to the friction of the small human rectum against his excited
appendage. The minutes went by like hours, and the victim transfixed in
his assault became convinced that he was trapped in a hell where a beast
would love him physically for eternity.

The attendant "boys" turned him over and made sure that his legs were
shifted up and back so that his rump would be facing up, allowing for
even greater penetration. The eyes of the semi-animal were turned red as
it bent over with his grizzly mouth to kiss his victim on the lips, all
the while retaining the pace of stroking invasion. The journalist in
helpless assault astonished himself even in trance to open his mouth and
move his tongue to meet the greasy slender forked tongue of his
assailant. He was further transfixed by the elegant eroticism of the
silky fur on the beast's abdomen rubbing against his almost desperately
excited man parts in all the physical frenzy. The tension of pleasure
climaxed and he squirted out his last measure of festered jism that night
on to both himself and the beast. The incubus felt the effect of the
climax on the man's injured but still functional internals and the snug
grip of velvety moist grasp on his flesh. He thrust his hips with
rapidity and howled into the moonlight. His own sex let loose with an
explosion and great profusion of heated effluence pumped up and out by
virile loins. It was a soothing splash for a victim who now grasped and
clung to his assailant in a gesture of hellish love. The mess of fluids
swirled about in an intimate coupling and flowed freely from the victim's
stretched opening while still penetrated.

As the great beast withdrew his softening pole and disentangled himself
from the victim, he spoke softly in grizzled tones. "Foreigner loves his
master, now." He stomped off as if disappearing onto thin air. While,
still trying to recover his wits lying on the ground, two of the
attendants were covering themselves with their cowls while the third
gathered up the naked journalist's clothes to help him dress. Now
dressed, the very sore injured journalist could never have arrived back
at the inn had the attendants not escorted and aided him so. Opening with
his key to a back entrance, he felt the cozy warmth welcome his senses
and one of the three attendants call out to him in accented German,
"listen to the dreams."

The journalist slept fitfully the remainder of the night and most of the
next day. He drank all the bottles of hospitable warm beer the innkeeper
had provided. He used all the handkerchiefs he had packed to clean away
the mix of blood and other fluids that oozed from his anal passage. Every
time he awoke, he was amazed at how much the soreness about there had
diminished. He dreamed many eerie and yet shadowy beautiful landscapes.
In strange locations of great mist the beast would come to him. "You will
come back to me, foreigner. You love your master now and must obey me to
serve my needs and urges." He spoke much else, beside.

The journalist set off from the inn once more and later into the night.
It was not until nearly midnight so the moon had risen completely over
hills and mountains and he did not need the aid of the flashlight to his
appointed destination as instructed in the dream of his sleep. He was
already in a trance like daze and the fact that he only wore his outer
cape over complete nudity except his house slippers did not cause him a
chill in the night air. He strolled slowly unobstructed, his face aglow
with a sense of profane love. He loved the beast and hence was a disciple
to all the incubuses and by extension the prince of darkness and all that
permeated his realm. It was more than a Faustian bargain, it was a love
affair and discipleship that would last into eternity. He and all his
male descendants would be devoted disciples to unbridled profanity
henceforth. The incubus growled approvingly as his supplicant arrived and
approached into the woods. The attendant "boys" watched nearby naked and
aroused, but silent in the arrival of the hypnotized one. He removed his
cape to expose his own nudity and arousal before lowering himself on the
moist cold ground to prostrate himself before the master he loved with
unyielding devotion and obedience.