Brian2012

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Chapter 1. A Bloody Family History

Count Vladimir sat in his castle, gazing out of the window at the darkening sky. The sun had set, and the castle was shrouded in a blanket of darkness. He felt a chill run down his spine as he thought about the rumors, he had heard from the villagers below. The superstitious people spoke of strange creatures and bandits that roamed the forest, preying on unsuspecting travelers.

He had always considered such stories to be mere folklore, but something about the way the villagers spoke about it made him uneasy. He wondered if he should send his men out to investigate, but the thought of sending them into the unknown, facing an unknown danger, gave him pause.



As he sat there, lost in thought, he heard a knock at the door. He turned to see his trusted advisor, Ivan, enter the room.

"Count, we have received a message from your father the king," Ivan said, handing him a sealed letter.

Vladimir broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents. His expression turned to one of concern.

"What does it say?" Ivan asked.

"It's from my father," Vladimir said, "He’s growing concerned at the attacks on travelers and sending a detachment of his elite soldiers."

Ivan nodded thoughtfully. "Shall I set up a base for them?"

"Yes," Vladimir said, "Make it a good one and comfortable for our guests."

As Ivan bowed and left the room, Vladimir knew if this was the right decision, ever since he was a young boy in his father’s court he was always fascinated by the elite soldiers and their perfectly sculpted bodies, to have such eye candy around the place would make things a little more exciting.



Vladimir knew what his royal duties were, he knew he had to prepare an heir to the throne but that still didn’t stop him having his fun. The young Count was bisexual and preferred the company of other men. However, he knew he had a royal duty and would do the deed when the time was right.

Meanwhile the young Count looked through some photos that he had taken of some of the population.





in his role he could request any of them when he wanted and demand they do as he ordered but Vladimir was shrewd, he knew he didn’t want any trouble and most of his visitors were paid to keep quiet. He rang the bell in the great hall and within seconds Ivan had returned.

Ivan had grown up with Vladimir. They were childhood friends; his father was advisor to Vladimir’s father the king and he was to carry on the same role.

“What can I do for you sir?” Ivan asked as walked into the room.



“Ah Ivan.” Vladimir replied, “Do you remember Wyatt who I took some photos of the other week?”



“The name is familiar sire, but I cannot picture him.” Ivan replied.



“Here look at this.” Vladimir urged as he showed his trusted advisor another picture.





“Ah yes now I remember. He was rather rude and demanded his money.” Ivan said.



“Yes, that’s him. The arrogant arsehole with the great body.” Vladimir retorted. “Now take a detachment of soldiers and bring him to Eagles Creek. Tell him it’s for more modelling and let him know he’ll be paid as normal.”



Ivan nodded “Yes sire, I will do as you command. But what if he refuses to come?”



Vladimir smiled “Well that’s the easy part.” He said as he put his arm around Ivan. “Bring him by force if you need to.”



Ivan bowed and left the room; he’d quickly assembled a group of soldiers and they were soon on their way to Wyatt’s.





Arriving at the model’s house Ivan knocked on the door and Wyatt quickly answered.



“Wyatt, I need you to come with me right now.” Ivan barked “The Count has requested you meet him at Eagles Creek.”



“What’s going on? Why do you need me to come with you?” Wyatt protested.



“The Count wishes you to come to do some more modelling.” Ivan explained.



“I’m sorry, Ivan, but I can’t just drop everything and go with you. I have things I have to do.” Wyatt replied, “Besides I said that fool that it would cost more money if he wanted me next time.”



“Look the Count has said you will be paid so you will get your money. But he has also ordered that I bring you by force if you refuse to come.” Ivan explained.



Wyatt looked beyond Ivan and saw the group of soldiers standing menacingly behind him. There was no way the hot model could take them all on and knew the easiest thing to do was to just go with Ivan.

“Hold on a moment whilst I grab some things to wear for the shoot.” Wyatt said as he disappeared into the house and returned moments later.





Vladimir was already at Eagles creek with a detachment of his own personal bodyguards. The Count paid well and was a good boss, so they always did as their lord instructed.



A short while later Ivan and Wyatt arrived. They dismounted from their horses, and both bowed before the count.

“My lord, I have brought Wyatt as you requested.” Ivan said as he took a step back.



“Wyatt my old friend. It’s good to see you again.” Vladimir said as he grabbed Wyatt by the shoulder. “I want to get some more photos of you. Let’s get started.”



“Yes, my lord.” Wyatt replied “I look a bit better than last time we shot. I trust you have the money.”



Vladimir laughed “Of course I have the money. You’ll get it at the end as normal.”



Wyatt nodded “I’ll quickly get changed.” He said as he grabbed a bag from his horse.



Moments later Wyatt stepped out from behind a tree, hi athletic body fully on display as a stripped shirt hung open, revealing Wyatt’s chiseled abs and toned chest. His muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin, and his broad shoulders gave him a powerful and commanding presence. His hands were on his hips resting on the top of a white pair of underwear that struggled to contain his manhood and displayed a defined set of legs that was decorated with a light fuzz of hair. The fabric of his shirt hung loosely, as if unable to contain the force of his body.





Vladimir wasted little time I grabbing some shots of the sexy hunk and then had him pose in a variety of different poses in the shirt.





It was time for a wardrobe change and Vladimir instructed Wyatt to change and to this time only wear a pair of underwear. Wyatt nodded and headed back behind the tree to change.

Wyatt stepped back out moments later and listened to what the count had said as this time he was wearing nothing more than a black pair of briefs that showed off his fantastic body even more. The attractive model now stood on a rock as the Count continued to take even more photos of him in various poses.





The shoot began to draw to a close and as it did Vladimir approached Wyatt and thanked him once again for his services. He handed the model his payment and turned to walk away.



“Hey what’s this?” Wyatt shouted.



“It’s your payment.” Vladimir calmly replied as he turned his back to the model.



“No, no, no. I told you before that you’d have to pay more if you wanted me again.” Wyatt demanded.

“Give me more or I’ll tell everyone your little secret.”



Vladimir was incensed, no one threatened him, the Count grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it out seconds later he swung it at Wyatt as the other members of the group let out shocked gasps.



“Nobody dares to threaten me.” Vladimir shouted as Wyatt stood motionless in nothing more than his underwear.





Then as if in slow motion blood started to seep from Wyatt’s neck as his head slowly slipped from his body causing blood to gush from the decapitated stump and splatter onto the count. Wyatt’s fine athletic body slumped to the floor as Vladimir said “Bury this son of a bitch. And make sure it’s deep enough so he’s not found.”

The soldiers received the order and began the process of digging a grave for the headless model.

As the soldiers dug Vladimir stood by the water’s edge and put his hands in the water before washing Wyatt’s blood from his face.

The soldiers had just placed Wyatt’s headless body in the grave as the Count had finished washing and saw that they had forgotten Wyatt’s head.

“Hold on a moment.” Vladimir shouted, “you forgot this.” He picked Wyatt’s head up by his hair and walked over to the grave, he looked down and chuckled before tossing the head inside and watched as the soldiers covered the sexy dead model with dirt.





The Count stood before the grand mirror in his chambers within the towering castle walls. He had no remorse for what he had done, in fact Wyatt had infuriated him and deserved what he got. He was just sad that he would never see Wyatt’s fine body again and instead it would be slowly decomposing in a cold grave. Vladimir also knew he didn’t t have to worry about his father finding out as the people he surrounded himself were loyal and well taken care of.

It was then that Vladimir discovered something, as he looked in the mirror, he noticed the spots where Wyatt’s blood had splattered on him look more youthful. Vladimir summoned Ivan and asked him to have a look and even his trusted advisor agreed that those areas did look different.

Vladimir then summoned Dr Grezko the court physician, Grezko had been part of the court for as long as Vladimir could remember and when his father’s new wife demanded her physician be at the court the king reluctantly dispensed of Grezko’s services. But the old doctor wasn’t out of work for long and the Count soon had him back in employment.



Ivan returned to the chamber with Dr Grezko in tow.

“My lord what is wrong? Are you ok?” Grezko asked with a hint of worry in his voice.



Vladimir laughed “Yes Grezko, you can relax I’m ok. I seek your advice.”



“My ears are open my Lord.” Grezko replied as he bowed his head.



“Today I struck out at a petulant person who insulted me, and their blood splattered on me.” Vladimir explained “I was looking in the mirror and the areas where the blood was looks more youthful. Tell me Grezko can this be or am I going mad?”



Grezko paced around the room, “Sire, I can tell you this. You are not going mad.”



A look of confusion filled the Counts face, “Well Grezko speak tell me.”



Grezko looked worried “My Lord what I am about to say cannot leave this room. And I tell you in the strictest confidence. Please shut the doors and I will tell you. Ivan, can you leave us please.”



Ivan was about to leave the room as he shut and shut the door when the Count shouted “No Ivan stays. Doctor, he is my loyal advisor and I trust him with my life, there will be no secrets. You can speak freely.”



Grezko sat down and urged the others to do the same, “There has long been a myth that blood is the fountain of power and youthfulness. Your great great grandmother Countess Elizabeth Bathory discovered the same secret as you when she struck one of her servants. The area where the blood landed looked more youthful and removed the aged skin. So, she decided to kill peasants and bath in their blood, they say she looked more radiant and younger. But unfortunately, she was taken by the blood lust and became careless. They say she killed over six hundred young women.”



“What, I mean how could she kill so many people and get away with it?” Vladimir asked.



“My lord, there is a law that states the king, and his close family may kill as many peasants as they please without fear of retribution.” Ivan explained.



“But where did she get punished then.” Vladimir asked, “If the law stated she could do it.”



“Well, my lord.” Grezko continued to explain, the law states you can kill as many peasants as you wish but Bathory once killed a girl from a noble family and noticed how much purer their blood was, so she began to kill the daughters of noblemen. Blood is blood and she was delusional because of the blood lust. Killing from noble families is prohibited so action had to be taken and the Blood Countess was arrested.”



“Ok I understand.” Vladimir replied “But you’re telling me that I can kill as many young men as I please and do what I want to them and not get in trouble.”



“Yes, my lord.” Both Ivan and Grezko said at the same time.



“Thank you Grezko. You may leave us now.” The Count said as he turned to his loyal and trusted advisor. “Do you know what this mean?” He asked as Ivan replied, “I think I do sire.”

Vladimir smiled “Instead of just shooting the attractive young men we can do what we please with them and not get in any trouble. Maybe it’s time to honor my great great grandmother and announce the birth of the Blood Count.



“Maybe it is my Lord. Maybe it is.” Ivan replied with a smirk across his face.
 
Chapter 2. The Prisoner of War


Dillon sat in his prison cell; the weight of uncertainty heavy upon his shoulders. As a prisoner of war, he was unsure of what the future held for him. Would he be released, or would he spend the rest of his days confined to this small, damp cell? The only sounds he used to hear were the occasional footsteps of guards and the constant drip of water from a leaky pipe. He’d wondered how long he had been here, days? weeks? It all seemed to blur together in this place where time stood still, he tried to keep his mind occupied, thinking of his family and friends back home, wondering if they knew what had happened to him. But as the days passed, his hope began to wane, and he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever see them again.



But one day the guards came and without saying a word and without warning took Dillon from his cell, bound his arms and legs and took him on a journey. They had been travelling for a few days until they came to a city where they planned on staying for a few days and once again Dillon found himself in the cells deep in the castle dungeons, unsure and nervous about the fate that awaited him.





Count Vladimir stood in the grand hall taking in the news that he had just received. His father had informed him an important prisoner was to be housed at his castle before being released back to his country as an act of good faith.

The prisoner was currently in the dungeons and his guards were last seen drinking in the tavern.

His loneliness was soon interrupted when his trusted advisor Ivan entered the room. “My lord, have you seen the prisoner?”

“No Ivan I have not.” Vladimir replied, “Why do you ask?”

“He’s a beautiful specimen of manhood.” Ivan retorted “Here look at this.” Ivan showed Vladimir a picture of Dillon and the Count was dumbstruck when he saw the muscular blonde haired blue eyed hunk. “Jesus Christ.” Vladimir exclaimed “he’s stunning.”





Ivan laughed “I know and I have devised a plan so you can kill him and bathe in his blood. Do you want to do it?”



The Count pondered Dillon was supposed to be released in a few days by orders of his father and Vladimir didn’t want to rock the boat and let Ivan know his thoughts.



Ivan explained “My lord. My plan covers all that and the prisoner will leave here as normal and been found in a few weeks, and it will look like the group ran into bandits, unfortunately his escort will have to be killed but that’s no problem and best of all we get to kill the hunk.”



“Ivan, you’re wonderful.” Vladimir laughed “Bring me the prisoner but oh make sure he is already undressed.”



A short while later Ivan returned to the hall with the prisoner and some trusted guard on tow. Vladimir turned around and was taken back at what he saw as the blonde haired prisoner had a fine muscular body with a fantastic pair of legs dotted with a dark fuzz.





“What the hell do you want with me?” Dillon demanded to know “Why did you make me remove all my clothes. The convention lays out how prisoners of war as supposed to be treated. You’re overstepping the mark.”



“Relax my friend.” The Count replied, “Firstly let me apologize for the lack of hospitality since you arrived at my humble city.”



“Err thank you.” Dillon replied, still demanding to know what was happening.



“Look. I think it’s time you were let go.” Vladimir teased.



Dillon eyes opened wide “You mean you’re letting me go home.” He said with a hinge of excitement.



“Not exactly.” Vladimir said as he ripped his shirt off “I’m simply setting you free from this life.” He gave Ivan the signal and his trusted advisor pulled an unsuspecting Dillon’s head back and cut his throat.



Dillon gurgled for breath as guards had grabbed his shoulders and held him up right whilst his blood splattered over Vladimir’s head and torso which the Count made sure to rub all over. He then bent down and looked at the fine body before taking a photo to add to his own collection.





Once he was covered, he ordered Ivan to dump the trash in the woods and as per his plan make it look like bandits had struck.



“Ivan. I don’t want to be disturbed.” Vladimir snapped As Ivan left the room with the guards dragging Dillon’s body.



The sexy prisoner’s body was loaded onto a cart whilst the escorts that had been getting drunk in the tavern were taken and killed.

Ivan took the bodies deep into the forest and stopped at a remote spot. He laid the escorts out in positions that made it look like a surprise attack and then ordered a soldier to cut Dillon’s head off. The soldier did as order and Dillon’s head was placed on a spike his blue eyes now staring deep into the Forest whilst his fine body was left to rot.





A few days later Vladimir’s father the King sent a message ordering his sons’ soldiers to search the local area as the prisoner and his escort never made it to the meeting location.

Vladimir sent a detachment of soldiers who hadn’t known about the killing and waited for their findings.



Vladimir’s soldiers were two weeks into the hunt when they were in the forest and smelled the unmistakable scent of death. Following it they soon discovered a sight of devastation as the bodies of the soldiers escorting Dillon were found before they found the headless body of the prisoner stripped of his clothing and lying in nothing more than his underwear, flies buzzed around the body which has been partially devoured by scavengers, then a couple of feet away they found Dillon’s head on a spike, his beautiful blue eyes long since eaten by birds as maggots crawled all over his face and birds had torn chunks of flesh from his cheeks.





Vladimir reported back to his father that they had unfortunately found Dillon and that he and the escorts had been killed by bandits. His father ordered a hunt for the bandits as Vladimir and Ivan celebrated the success of their plan.
 
Chapter 3. Butchering a Buchner

As the days passed, Count Vladimir grew restless. He longed for another victim to satisfy his insatiable thirst for blood.

“What’s wrong my lord?” Ivan asked as he saw his depressed lord.

“I think that it’s time again. You know what to do. The count said as he ordered his loyal advisor Ivan to find him a new young man to quench his never-ending thirst.



Ivan nodded silently and set off on his mission. He searched the nearby towns keeping his eyes peeled for any young man who might catch Count Vladimir's fancy. And then, one day, he stumbled upon Jacob.

















Dark haired and exceptionally good looking Jacob was a confident man who oozed sex appeal. He knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. His cocky attitude often irritated people, but he had an undeniable charm that left them besotted with him. Recently, Jacob had gone through a life-changing experience that made him reassess his priorities.







Jacob had dropped out of school, but street-smart and resourceful, he always found a way to make things work. However, Jacob's casual attitude towards life was short-lived as he’d recently found Jesus. It had made a significant change in his life, and he was determined to live a more purposeful life and be a better person. Jacob shared the newfound love he has for God with anyone who cared to listen, and his transformation left people in awe.







One thing that hadn’t changed for Jacob was his love of fitness. He’d always had the strength and energy of a bull, and fitness had become an outlet for him to channel his energy.













Jacob was everything Count Vladimir wanted in a young man – handsome, confident, and cocky. He had a striking jawline, a chiseled chest, and mischief in his eyes. Ivan watched in fascination as Jacob strutted down the street, knowing that he had found the perfect candidate.









Ivan instructed his detachment of soldiers to abduct Jacob at the earliest opportunity and bring him to the Count's castle.





Jacob had just finished an intense workout at the gym after an exhausting day at work. His adrenaline was pumping, and he felt alive. As he sat shirtless on a bench, catching his breath, he marveled at his reflection in the mirror. His dark hair was damp with sweat, and his muscles bulged under his skin. He savored the moment, knowing that his fitness journey had brought him that far.





Jacob's body was still flushed from the intense workout he had just completed, and he was feeling great. However, that feeling of elation disappeared when a group of men suddenly attacked him from behind. They covered his mouth and immobilized his arms, preventing him from moving or screaming out for help. Jacob's heart thumped wildly in his chest, and his mind raced as he struggled to break free.







The men, who revealed themselves to be Ivan's soldiers, wasted no time in bundling him into a van and driving him off. Jacob struggled and fought with all his might, but the soldiers hit him hard enough to bring him back to his senses, leaving him helpless and disoriented. He had no idea what his fate would be in the hands of these dangerous men, and fear engulfed him.







The drive to an unknown location was long and bumpy. Jacob was chained and shackled, reducing his movements to painful pulls and twists. The soldiers taunted him and threatened him, and Jacob felt helpless, wondering what it was that they wanted from him.





Arriving at the castle the soldiers threw him into the dungeon of Count Vladimir's castle. Jacob didn't know where he was or why he had been taken. He was left alone in the damp and dank cell, stripped to his underwear and chained to the wall, his body bruised and battered from the scuffle.



Jacob's faith was all that kept him strong during the ordeal as he prayed for strength to remain strong and forgiveness for his captives.











Ivan knocked on the grand wooden door and then entered Count Vladimir's chambers, as he greeted the Count with a slight nod. The Count looked up from the papers and paperwork strewn around his desk, his gaze cold and calculating.







"Ah, Ivan, you have news?" Count Vladimir inquired in a deep, almost menacing tone.







"Yes, My Lord," Ivan responded, his own voice eerily calm. "We have acquired a suitable male."







Count Vladimir's eyes narrowed as he leant back in his leather chair, studying Ivan with a sense of skepticism. "Suitable for what purpose, Ivan?" he questioned with a smile.







Ivan cleared his throat, keeping his voice steady. "The usual purpose, your Grace," he replied, his gaze unwavering. "For your satisfaction."







The Count's lips curved into a sinister smile as he leant back into his chair. "Excellent," he murmurs. "And pray, what is the name of this male?"







"Jacob," Ivan responded, his face stoic.







The Count nods, tapping his fingers on the desktop. "Good," he said at last. "Make sure he is properly prepared and bring him to me. I trust you know what I expect of him."







Ivan's face twitched, but he merely nods, his eyes flickering with what could be disgust or discomfort.







"Very well, Count," Ivan said, his voice trembling slightly. "I will see that everything is in order."









With that, Ivan left the chamber, as Count Vladimir returned to his work, satisfied with his latest acquisition.











Ivan now led the way through the dark corridors of Count Vladimir's castle, his expression tense and guarded. Walking behind him were several of his soldiers, each one armed and looking deadly serious. They had Jacob in tow, and he looked understandably confused and afraid.







“What is going on?” demanded Jacob as he was dragged down the dank corridors. “Why are you doing this? Let me go!”







Ivan and the soldiers ignored him, continuing to march him towards the door of Count Vladimir's chambers. Jacob's heartbeat wildly as he saw the door loom closer and closer, realizing that his fate was about to be sealed.







“Please,” he pleaded, trying to break free from his captors' grip. “Let me go! I've done nothing wrong!”







But Ivan and the soldiers remained resolute, pushing Jacob forward until they reached the door of the Count's chambers. Ivan knocked loudly on the door, and it was soon burst open, revealing Count Vladimir sitting at his desk, a sinister smile on his lips.







“And here he is,” he murmured, his eyes glittering with anticipation as he beheld Jacob. “Our new acquisition.”







The Count then waved his hand dismissively, gesturing for the soldiers and Ivan to bring Jacob closer. Jacob struggled, trying to escape their grasps, but they held firm, dragging him forward.







“Let me go!” Jacob screamed, his voice rising in fear and desperation. “I don't want any part of this! Let me go, damn it!”





As Count Vladimir looked upon Jacob's body, his eyes widened in appreciation and desire. Jacob was everything he had hoped for and more, his body perfectly chiseled and well-built, his fine quads looking sturdy and strong as he stood in just his underwear. The Count's gaze focused on every inch of Jacob's form, from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist, taking in every detail while salivating with lustful anticipation.





Jacob, meanwhile, was fighting for his freedom. He could feel the Count's piercing stare, turning his stomach and making him feel vulnerable. As the Count approached, examining him closely, Jacob flinched, feeling violated and helpless.



"Stop!" Jacob commanded with a growl, his body tensing up as the Count's hands ran over his body. "Get your hands off me!"



But Count Vladimir paid no attention to Jacob's protests, running his palms over his chest and down his taut abs. Jacob struggled, trying to break free from the Count's touch, but he was held firmly in place by the soldiers at his sides.



Count Vladimir stepped back, marveling at Jacob's body, hungering for more intimacy with the beautiful man as he removed his own shirt.



Count Vladimir had been battling his blood lust for days.

Jacob struggled and pleaded for his life, but Count Vladimir was beyond reason. He ordered his elite soldiers to hold Jacob down as he retrieved a pair of metal fangs, he had specially made for such an occasion.



Jacob's screams echoed throughout the dark hall as Count Vladimir sank his new fangs deep into his neck. The taste of fresh human blood was overwhelming as the count bit down until Jacob lay motionless, with his throat ripped out.

He reveled in the rush of Jacob's warm blood as he bathed in it, letting it coat his entire body and then looked down at his latest kill.





Before continuing to collect the young man’s blood. Once he had finished with Jacob, he instructed Ivan and his soldiers to dispose of the body by burying it on the castle grounds.



In no time, Ivan and his soldiers had dug a shallow grave in one of the castle's gardens and placed Jacob's lifeless body inside and covered it up.





Count Vladimir stood over the grave, he felt a strange sense of power and strength that only came from feeding on human blood.



His thirst was quenched, but only for a short time. He knew that he would soon need another young man to satisfy his blood lust, and he would stop at nothing to find one.
 
Blood lust is the best lust. :yummy2:
 
Chapter 4. The Reality TV Star

Count Vladimir sat in his chambers watching Love Island, his favorite TV show, as the large open fire crackled in the background. He couldn't help but admire the sexy young men that appeared on the screen, their chiseled bodies and perfect smiles sending shivers down his spine. His desire for blood grew more and more and he knew it was soon time for another young man to die.



He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the show, until he saw his favorite. As soon as Callum came on the screen, Count Vladimir couldn't take his eyes off him. Dressed in golden pants and showing off his toned, athletic body with smooth muscular legs, it was clear to see why Callum was a hit with the other contestants. Count Vladimir watched Callum's every move with intensity, taking in his short brown hair and piercing blue eyes.





Count Vladimir knew that Callum was the one. The way he carried himself, his confidence, and his striking appearance all made him the perfect next victim. He knew that he wanted Callum for himself. He even found himself becoming jealous of the other contestants who vied for Callum's attention.



As the season went on, Count Vladimir watched carefully, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Callum's time on Love Island was coming to an end, but he didn't realize that his time with Count Vladimir was just beginning. He had chosen Callum as his next victim, and he would stop at nothing to make sure that he got what he wanted. Callum was about to have the time of his life, but little did he know that it would come at a dangerous cost.





Callum felt like he was living in a dream as he stepped onto the set of Love Island. He was a huge fan of the show and couldn't believe he was finally going to be a part of it. As he walked onto the set, he was greeted by cheers from the audience and the other contestants. Little did he know that the one person he didn’t want to impress was watching him closely.





Callum soon became the talk of the villa, charming the other contestants with his easy-going nature and stunning good looks. But Count Vladimir knew that beneath the surface, Callum was yearning for excitement and danger. He knew that he could fulfill that need and take Callum on a thrilling ride that he would never forget.





Count Vladimir now sat on his throne, watching the latest episode of Love Island with an intense gaze. For weeks now, he had been captivated by a handsome young man named Callum. When Callum appeared on the screen, dressed only in red underwear, the Count couldn't take his eyes off him. His muscular, toned body and striking good looks were irresistible.



Count Vladimir had grown obsessed with Callum, spending every waking moment thinking about him and daydreaming about what he could do to him. He knew that his attraction to the young man was dangerous, but he couldn't help it. He longed to claim him as his own and had some special ideas as to what he was going to do with him.





As the episode progressed, it appeared that Callum's time on the show had come to an end. He was finally voted out, and Count Vladimir's heart sank. He knew that he would never see Callum again on the show, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing him completely.



Thankfully, Callum gave one final exit interview before heading home. As the Count watched him on the screen, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Callum was still as charming and handsome as ever, and the Count knew that he couldn't let him go without a fight.





As the episode came to an end, the Count made a decision. He would go after Callum, no matter what it took. He knew that the young man would be his greatest conquest yet, and he was determined to make him his own. With a smirk on his lips, the Count prepared to set his plan in motion. He simply couldn't resist the temptation any longer. Callum was his, and he would do whatever it took to claim him.



The Count demanded Dr Grezko and discussed the plan he had with him and despite some initial concerns the physician approved, and it was now time to abduct his conquest.





Count Vladimir sat in his throne room, pondering his next move as he summoned his closest friend Igor. Finally, he made a decision. "Igor," he said, "send out a group of my best soldiers. I want them to abduct Callum and bring him back to me. Unharmed. He is mine, and I will not let him go."



Igor bowed deeply, knowing that the Count's orders were not to be questioned. "At once, my lord," he replied, before quickly disappearing from the throne room to carry out his orders.





Callum could hardly contain his excitement now that he was free from the constraints of Love Island's set. He had always been a lover of the outdoors and now he finally had the chance to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on his skin. Dressed in nothing more than a comfortable grey shirt and short blue shorts that showed off his fantastic legs, he hit the beach.





The sand was warm beneath his bare feet as he walked, and the cool breeze of the ocean caressed his face. Callum felt like he had the beach all to himself, with only the gentle sound of the waves breaking on the shore to keep him company.



As he walked along the beach, he felt happy and free. He was grateful for the opportunity to be a part of Love Island but now he was ready to relax and take life at his own pace. He was determined to enjoy every moment of his newfound freedom.



Callum stopped to take a moment to appreciate the beauty that surrounded him. The beach was a breathtaking sight, with its golden sand and crystal-clear waters. It was a reminder to him that life was full of beauty and joy, and he intended to embrace it fully. He smiled at the thought of all the adventures that lay ahead, and the exciting opportunities that awaited him. Without a care in the world, he removed his shirt and continued to explore the beach, relishing every moment of his newfound freedom.



After walking for a while, Callum saw a secluded and quiet area of the beach. He decided to stop and sunbathe for a while. It was the perfect time to work on his tan and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. He found a comfortable spot and lay down on his back, enjoying the feel of the soft sand beneath him.



As Callum closed his eyes, the warmth of the sun's rays hit his exposed chest, causing him to let out a contented sigh. He was incredibly toned, and his body was perfect in every sense of the word. He had always been one to take care of himself, and it showed.





The sight of his bare chest was enough to set any heart racing. He stretched out his arms, allowing the sunlight to wash over his entire body. Callum was in heaven, soaking up the sun's rays and enjoying the peace and quiet of the beach. The sound of the waves and the cry of the gulls added to the relaxing atmosphere.



Minutes turned into hours as Callum continued to sunbathe. He turned over onto his stomach, revealing his muscular back and perfectly toned legs. As he did so, he felt the sun's warm embrace wash over him once again. He closed his eyes, taking in the peaceful moment and the feeling of the warm sun on his body. For Callum, this was the perfect escape from the pressures of the world and the drama that he had experienced on Love Island.







Callum was on his knees in his black underwear, closing his eyes, and taking in the tranquility of the beach, he heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer by the minute. When he opened his eyes, he saw several soldiers rushing towards him. Before he could react, they threw a bag over his head, and all he could hear were footsteps approaching him.





"P-please, let me go!" Callum pleaded as he tried to fight back, but the soldiers were too strong for him. They dragged him onto their ship, and before he knew it, they had abducted him.



Callum felt his heart pounding against his chest as he protested, trying hard to break free from their grasp. After what seemed like a lifetime travelling, they arrived at the Count's castle. They dragged him through the chilling stone halls and up to the Count's chambers.





Igor suddenly burst into the Count's chamber, his face flushed with excitement and nervousness. "My lord!" he exclaimed, bowing low. "They are bringing the prisoner, Callum, to see you!"



The Count's face lit up with glee at the news, and a sly smile crept across his lips. He had been waiting for this moment ever since he'd laid eyes on the TV personality. Callum was a prized possession, and the Count was looking forward to the fun he would have with him.



"Excellent," the Count said, rising from his throne and stretching his arms. "I've been waiting for this moment. Bring him to me now."



Igor nodded eagerly and turned to leave. "Yes, my lord. I'll bring him to you at once."



As Igor left, the Count could feel his heart racing with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see Callum again. Oh, the things he would do to him. The Count licked his lips in anticipation and paced around his chamber like a feral animal.



"I'm going to have so much fun with him," he said to himself, chuckling darkly. "So much fun."



The Count's excitement grew as he heard the footsteps of the soldiers bringing Callum into his chamber. He could hardly contain himself as he waited for the sight of the sexy television personality.









As they brought Callum into the room, the Count's eyes roamed over the man's body, drinking in every inch of his muscular form. The Count licked his lips hungrily, taking notice of Callum's magnificent legs. He let out a low growl of anticipation, eagerly anticipating the feel of Callum's body beneath his touch.













Callum stood before the Count, his heart racing with fear and desperation. He couldn't believe he had been brought to this unknown place. And wondered what Count had planned for him.





"What do you want from me?" Callum cried out as soon as he saw the Count's face. As he trembled and tried to make sense of everything that was happening.



As the Count approached Callum, he could feel the man's protests and fear reaching a fever pitch. Callum begged to be let go, as he struggled against the soldiers determined to hold him still. But the Count paid no attention to his cries, his gaze fixed solely on the prize before him.









"Such a beautiful specimen," the Count murmured as he brushed his hand against Callum's cheek. "I cannot wait to unleash all of my desires upon you.





Callum flinched at the Count's touch, his body shaking with fear as the man stalked closer. He begged and pleaded for the Count to let him go, but the words simply fell on deaf ears.





"Who are you, and why have you brought me here?" Callum asked, weakly trying to fight back the overwhelming fear he felt.



The Count didn’t answer instead his hands continued to roam over Callum's toned body, enjoying the sensation of the flesh under his fingertips. With each caress, he felt a shiver of anticipatory pleasure run through him. This was his plaything, his toy to do with as he pleased.



The TV personality continued to struggle and cry out in protest, but the Count only grew more excited by his resistance. He was a hunter, and Callum was his prey. And nothing could stand in his way.



With a sly smile, the Count knelt down in front of Callum, trailing his hands down the man's smooth legs. He couldn't get enough of the sensation of the smooth quad muscles under his fingers.



Callum squirmed and struggled against the guards holding him, but the Count only chuckled at his attempts to escape. His pet wasn't going anywhere, not until the Count had had his fill.



"You're even more beautiful up close," the Count purred. "I can't wait to explore every inch of you."



With each word, his touch grew more possessive, and Callum could feel his world collapsing around him. He was powerless to stop the Count, to keep him from touching him and using him as he pleased. The situation was hopeless, and Callum’s worst fears were confirmed as the Count suddenly gave an order to one of his guards.



"Silence him," the Count said, his voice cold and commanding.



The guard stepped forward, his hands flinging a ligature around Callum's neck in a vice-like grip. The TV personality tried to struggle and fight back, but it was no use. The guard was strong, and his grip was too tight.



Callum's eyes widened in terror as he realized what was happening. He tried to scream for help, but the guard was too strong, choking off his words before he could speak to them.



The Count watched with a cold gaze and touched Callum’s hard muscles as Callum struggled and writhed, his eyes bulging as he fought for air. The TV personality was nothing to him now, nothing more than a plaything that had outlived its usefulness.



As Callum slowly grew still and lifeless in the guard's grip, the Count grinned triumphantly. This was what he lived for, the power and control that came with taking someone's life. And with Callum the fun was only just beginning.



Now that Callum was dead, the Count needed to put the rest of his plan into action. With the help of his guards, he lifted the lifeless form up and hoisted it upside down over a bathtub.



The Count couldn't resist the temptation to examine his latest plaything once more. Gently, he brushed Callum's hair away from his face, admiring the handsome features that were now frozen in death.





The TV personality's head hung lifeless; his neck now exposed to the Count's gaze. Knowing what was coming next, the Count raised his razor-sharp blade and carefully sliced through Callum's throat.



Blood gushed out of the wound and began to pool into the bathtub. Red droplets splattered against the floor and walls, creating a gruesome scene that only excited the Count further. He watched with rapt attention as the blood slowly filled the bathtub.



Once the bleeding had stopped, the Count signaled to his guards to leave the room and undressed and stepped into the bathtub. There he rubbed Callum’s blood all over him ensuring he himself was covered from head to toe and allowing it to dry before washing it off a little later.



Count Vladimir wasn’t finished with Callum’s body just yet and had one more surprise in store. He had ordered Igor to bring him Janos Nemeth a local butcher from a nearby village, up from the dungeon. Janis had been arrested as rumors persisted that he had been serving human meat in his butcher’s shop and the Counts plan was to consume Callum’s flesh and for that he needed an expert to butcher the corpse. If the rumors were true, there would be no one better for Janos to do the job.



The Count left his chambers and made his way down to the castle dungeons. There, he sought out Janos Nemeth, a local butcher accused of selling human meat in his shop. The Count had taken an interest in the man, considering he was an expert in the field of butchery. He knew that Janos could help him with his next project.



Janos looked up in terror as the Count entered the room. He knew that he was at the mercy of this cruel aristocrat and that his fate was in man’s hands.



The Count spoke in a low and menacing voice, "Janos, you're a butcher, and I hear that you have a talent for working with human flesh. I have a proposal for you. I have a fresh human carcass that I need you to butcher for me."



Janos pretended to recoil in disgust, "I won't do it, Your Grace! I won't butcher a human body. I may be a butcher, but I have my standards." He said fearing this was a trick to extract a confession from him.



The Count chuckled, "Oh, I think you will. Because we both knew that you were guilty. Agree to my demands and I will let you go free, and I'll make sure that your shop gets the best business in town."



Janos realized that he had no choice. He knew that he had to do the Count's bidding if he wanted to live. The Count led him up to his chambers, where Callum's lifeless body still hung upside down over the bathtub. Janos gulped and got to work with his butcher's tools, carefully harvesting every inch of meat from the carcass as the Count watched on with glee.





Janos Nemeth worked methodically, skillfully carving up Callum's body into pieces that the Count could use. As he worked, he gave tips on how to cook each cut of meat, explaining which methods would bring out the most flavor and tenderness.



The Count watched with fascination as Janos worked, marveling at the man's knowledge and expertise. Though he was disgusted by the sight of human flesh, he couldn't resist the temptation to taste it for himself.



Once Janos had finished, he stepped back and watched as the Count sat down at a nearby table and began to tuck into a fine steak that had been cut from one of Callum's quads. The Count savored every bite, reveling in the unique flavors that came from human meat.



"Excellent work," the Count said as he finished his meal. "You have a true talent, Janos. From this day forward, you will be my royal butcher. You may butcher whomever I tell you to, as long as you provide me with the finest cuts of meat."



Janos nodded, relieved that he had spared his own life and grateful for the opportunity to work for such a powerful and influential man. Though he was appalled at what he had done, he knew that he had no choice but to serve the Count faithfully, no matter what atrocities he was tasked with carrying out and also knew that this would now make him rich.
 
Chapter 5

Count Vladimir sat in his dimly lit chambers, the moon shining through the window casting an eerie glow across the room. He sat in his high-backed armchair staring blankly out into the night, struggling to contain the effects of the blood lust he was getting. It had been building within him for weeks, since he had killed the reality TV star Callum and gnawing away at his mind and leaving him anxious and restless.



With each passing day, Vladimir felt more and more like his past ancestor Elizabeth Bathory, the infamous blood Countess who had reveled in the torture and murder of young women. He shuddered at the thought of his own descent into madness, but the allure of the blood was too strong to resist.



He knew he could continue like this, if he was smart, if he was not smart, he knew there would be consequences and his people would surely rise against him, calling for his head. He needed to find a way to satiate his thirst without raising suspicion.



The Count summoned his trusted advisor and close friend Ivan,



“What is wrong my lord?” Ivan asked as he entered the chambers.



The count looked at him his eyes dull and sad a shadow of who he once was “I’m afraid it’s that time again my friend.”



Ivan knew what he meant, he could not pretend, for that would be an insult to the Count and he respected his lord more than that.

“You mean.” And before he could finish the Count cut him off and finished his words for him. “Yes Ivan, it’s time to bring me another young man.”



Ivan raised an eyebrow but didn't question his master, knowing that his own fate was also tied to the Count's. “My lord I will get on it right away, you can trust me.”





Ivan understood his lord's predicament and knew the risks associated with it. Additionally, he was aware that the Count's blood lust was becoming too strong to resist. Knowing that he would be responsible for his lord's safety, he decided to take matters into his own hands.



He gathered a detachment of guards and went to the nearby city to search for a potential victim for the Count. They were to keep their eyes open for any young man who was alone and athletic. They searched the streets and alleyways until they came across a young man loitering in a narrow street near the edge of the city.





Baylor was a young man who was very much into sports, and he had an impressive track record as a wrestler. When he was on the mat, he had an unwavering focus and a burning desire to win. He was a formidable opponent and could take down his opponents with ease.





However, away from the mat, Baylor was a different man. He was just as passionate about his family, and he loved spending as much time as he could with them. He was also very committed to keeping fit and healthy and enjoyed going for long runs and working out at the gym. Apart from sports, Baylor had a love for the outdoors, hunting, and fishing.





Despite the fact that Baylor lived a physical and action-packed life, he considered his faith to be an essential aspect of his life. He lived his life according to the principles espoused by Jesus and found solace in attending church services. His faith was his guiding light, and he believed that anything was possible with God's help.



Baylor was a man who believed in hard work, maintaining a healthy lifestyle, spending time with loved ones, and maintaining a strong connection to one's faith. His life was a testament to the power of determination, and he was the kind of person who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, that was until the Counts’ entourage spotted him one night.





Ivan and the guards had been searching for a suitable victim for the Count for days. They had scoured the nearby villages and towns, looking for someone who was young and attractive. That was when they stumbled upon Baylor.



It was early in the morning, and Baylor had just come back from his recent hunting trip. He had bagged a duck, which he was carrying home when he was approached by the guards.



Ivan, who was leading the group, confronted Baylor. "What do you think you're doing?" he snarled. "Do you know that poaching is a serious crime?"



Baylor protested, explaining that he had hunted the duck legally and had not done anything wrong. But the guards wouldn't listen. They said that they had seen him prowling around the woods and had been keeping an eye on him. They accused him of being a poacher and said that they were taking him in.



Despite his protests, Baylor was dragged away and taken to the Count's castle. He was confused and scared. He had no idea what was happening or why he was being taken in. He had never been in trouble with the law, and he knew that he had done nothing wrong.



As they reached the castle, Ivan explained to him that the Count had requested his presence. He said that the Count was impressed with his wrestling skills and wanted to ask him some questions. But Baylor could sense that something was amiss. The guards were being extra cautious, and he knew that they were taking him somewhere dangerous.



As soon as they reached the Count's chambers, Baylor knew that he was in serious trouble. He was placed under arrest and accused of trespassing on the Count's land. He knew that there was no way out and that the only thing he could do was to hope for a miracle.





Ivan and some of the guards now stood outside the Count's chambers with Baylor. The guards had been instructed to keep a close eye on the young man and make sure he did not escape. Ivan knew that the Count's thirst for blood would not be sated, and Baylor was to be his next victim.



Ivan looked down at Baylor, who was pale and trembling with fear. He knew that the young man was innocent and did not deserve to be treated like this. But he had no choice but to follow his lord's orders.



Ivan took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A voice from inside bellowed for them to come in, and they entered the chambers.



Inside, the Count was seated on his throne, looking ominous and foreboding. He motioned for Baylor to be brought forward.



"Ah, yes, the wrestler," he said, his voice cold and detached. "I have been waiting for you."





Baylor looked up, his eyes wide with fear. He had heard stories about the Count and knew how cruel and evil he could be.



The Count stood up and walked over to Baylor. He towered over him, a menacing figure, and placed a hand on his shoulder.



The Count looked Baylor up and down with a sense of satisfaction. His eyes flicked over the young man's physique, noting his muscular build and strong arms. He had handpicked Baylor as his next victim precisely because of his wrestling skills, and he was pleased with the one that had been brought to him.



"You seem like a strong young man," he said, his voice laced with menace. "I hear you're quite the wrestler."



Baylor nodded slowly, his mind racing. He had heard rumors about the Count and knew that he was a sadistic monster who derived pleasure from torturing and killing innocent people.



"I won't deny it," he said, his voice tremulous. "But I don't see what that has to do with anything."



The Count smiled, a cold, cruel expression that sent shivers down Baylor's spine.



"You have been accused of trespassing on my land," he said in a low voice. "What do you have to say for yourself?"



Baylor shook his head, his heart racing. "I did not trespass on your land, my lord," he said. "I was hunting, and I bagged a duck. That's all."



The Count's expression hardened. "You insolent little worm," he hissed. "How dare you lie to me?"



The Count's face turned dark with anger as Baylor continued to protest. He snapped his fingers, and his guards moved to seize the young man. Within seconds They stripped him down to his underwear, leaving him shivering and vulnerable in the cold stone chamber.





Baylor protested loudly, saying that he had rights and that the Count couldn't do this to him. But the Count merely laughed in his face.



"My dear boy, you have no rights," he sneered. "Not in this kingdom, not in my chambers."



Baylor's eyes widened with horror as the Count pronounced his sentence. He was to be put to death, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.



"But...but this is madness!" he stammered, looking from the Count to the guards in disbelief. "I'm innocent! I didn't do anything to deserve this!"



The Count merely shrugged, a cruel smile playing across his lips. "I have passed my judgement," he said. "And it is final."



Before Baylor could protest further, a guard stepped forward and flung a ligature around his neck. Baylor struggled and gasped for air, but it was no use. The guard held on tight, choking the life out of him as the other guards looked on, impassive.



Baylor’s eyes widened in terror as he realized what was happening. He tried to scream for help, but the guard was too strong, choking off his words before he could speak to them.



The Count watched with a cold gaze and touched the wrestler as he struggled and writhed, his eyes bulging as he fought for air. The young athlete was nothing to him now, nothing more than a piece of meat that he owned.



As Baylor slowly grew still and lifeless in the guard’s grip, the Count grinned triumphantly. This was what he lived for, the power and control that came with taking someone’s life. And with Baylor the fun was only just beginning.



Ivan smiled and laughed as Baylor's body went limp and watched as the count now instructed his guard to leave before grabbing Baylor’s body and dragging him over to the large bath he had in the corner. He then tied a rope around Baylor’s ankles and hoisted the body, so it now dangled over the bath.



The Count looked over at Ivan “Time for some fun.” As he picked up a knife and slit Baylor’s throat and watched as the bath now filled with the young wrestler’s blood.

Twenty minutes later Baylor had been drained of his blood and now dangled lifelessly above the bath as the Count undressed and bathed in the blood.





Around an hour later, the Count summoned his guards back into his chambers.



The Count stood at the head of the room, his eyes cold and calculating. "Dispose of the body," he ordered the guards. "Cut it down and dump it in the woods. And make sure it's done quietly. I don't want anyone to find out about this."



The guards nodded, and without a word, they left cut down the body and carried it out to a waiting cart.





Eight weeks after the Count had ordered the guards to dump Baylor's body in the woods, he was discovered by a group of hunters. The body had badly decomposed and was barely recognizable, but it was clear that he had been brutally murdered.





The hunters were shocked and horrified by their discovery, but they knew that reporting it to the authorities would only bring trouble. They hurriedly buried the body and moved on with their hunt, eager to put the grisly discovery behind them.
 
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