Thunder flashed across the Romanian countryside as a jet black carriage sped through the nocturnal gloom. The ebony steeds cried and snarled in frustration and exhaustion as the barbed whip descended with the arm of the hunchbacked driver and the commanding shout of "Yaaah! Yaaah!" escaped his lungs.

From within the coach called a deep and imposing voice, "Faster Igor! We must reach the port before sunrise!" "Yes master," the driver replied, "yes sir."

Within the car, Count Dracula took a swig from his flask and then offered the bottle to his daughter. Mavis, cuddled up beside the Count under their shared blanket, gingerly accepted and took a cautious sip.

"Pfft…" she coughed as a trickle of the blood escaped from the corner of her mouth, "what the hell is that?"

Dracula chuckled, and wiped the trail of crimson seeping from the corner of her mouth with the tip of his finger, raising it to his own to lick off and savor. "That would be blood, darling."

"Why does is taste funny?" Mavis inquired.

Again Drac chuckled to himself before answering, "He was an alchie, dear. It's a long drive and I'm feeling an itch for a nightcap."

A grin spread across Mavis's face as she snatched the flask from her father. Tossing her head back, she downed half the bottle in a few short gulps. Gasping as she withdrew it from her lips, the smirk widened. "Jesus, his B.A.C. must've been off the charts."

"That it was," Drac answered, taking the flask back, his own amusement rising. His gaze met Mavis's and he could see a new glossiness in her eyes. "A bit stronger than anything you're accustomed to."

"Mmm," Mavis nodded, a wave of warmth and fuzziness beginning to fill her. "Well whoever he was… he has really great taste…s" Her eyes met the flask as Drac took another swig, and mid-gulp she snatched it from him once again. "Gimme that," she said, "I wants to get drunk."

"And why would you want to do that?" Dracula mused.

"So you can take advantage of me, of course!" not missing a beat. Raising the metallic bottle to her lips, she took the final gulps of the vodka and whiskey and god-knows-what-else saturated blood.

Dangling the flask between her index finger and thumb, she shook it slightly as the sound of the last few drops splashing about emanated from the opening. She paused for a moment, seeming to ponder something.

"Satisfied?" Dracula asked, more eager for what was to come than he was willing to admit.

"Not yet." Mavis replied, a devious expression taking hold of her as she ran her fingers through her father's soft dark hair. "Not yet." And with a sudden jerk she pulled his head back and poured the last few drops sloppily around his lips and mouth.

"Mavis, what are you-?"

"Uh oh!" She cried, disingenuously appalled. "I made a mess," her devious expression magnified tenfold as she continued. Lowering her face to hover barely an inch above his own, she whispered, "I'd better clean it up."

Closing the distance between them, Mavis extended her tongue and dragged it across her father's lips, savoring the taste of his flesh against hers far more than the blood itself, as she collected every last drop. When she finished, she paused for a moment, seeming to remember something, and teased, "How selfish of me, you wanted a taste too, didn't you?"

Beaming in arousal and amusement, Dracula nodded ever so slightly. Mavis leaned in, pressing her lips to his as both their mouths opened enough for their tongues to entangle as Drac took in the taste of the blood, alcohol, and best of all, Mavis.

Shedding the blanket, Mavis climbed into Dracula's lap, her black minidress riding up as she mounted him like a cowgirl. With one hand Drac pulled Mavis closer, drawing her deeper as their lips delved and retracted, tongues exploring one another, and eyes half closed in an intoxicating passion. His free hand ventured beneath the dark fabric and pushed aside her bra, cupping her petite breast.

With the rhythmic bouncing of the carriage across the rough terrain, Mavis rose and fell atop his lap as the stirring in his loins climbed higher and higher. At last he could take no more, grabbing his daughter's ankles , he raised her legs to the ceiling and reclined her against his lap and the opposite seat as he slid her black cotton panties past her striped thigh highs and deposited them on the floor.

Resuming her upright position once more, she leaned in to briefly peck him before withdrawing and sliding to the floor herself. Daintily, she traced the outline of his hardened member as she lowered her face to rest in his lap, her gaze angled upwards to meet his eyes.

"Bout ready to take advantage of me?" she pressed, her hand beginning to tug at his zipper.

"Oh heavens yes." he replied, his abysmal eyes shining with anticipation as the carriage tossed and threw and propelled their bodies closer and closer to one another.

The violent flashing in the sky had subsided significantly by the time the stagecoach exited the forested wilds and ducked under the threshold of the port settlement. Nothing could be heard but the clatter of hooves on the ancient brick and Igor's calling to the horses as the carriage came to halt outside the dilapidated building; nothing except the muffled moans and hushed whispers echoing from the passenger door.

"Master we've arriv-" as Igor pulled open the caravan door, Mavis hurriedly pulled the discarded blanket over her and her father. Shifting his glance to a near fascination with the floor, the building behind them, anywhere but Dracula's furious eyes, he continued. "Master Dracula, we've arrived at the port house."

"No Igor, we most certainly have not." Dracula answered, the surprise and anger due in his voice instead replaced by a sort of sly sarcasm, "My daughter and I are still enjoying our carriage ride, we will most definitely not arrive for at least another 20 minutes. Isn't that right Mavi?"

"Definitely," Mavis answered, the same sly tone carried in her words, "I'm not nearly done riding."

"Back to the road driver, chop chop!" Dracula ordered as he slammed the door inward. With the snap of the whip, the carriage jerked back into acceleration as the cloven feet struck pavement. "Now," Dracula mused, his hand caressing Mavis' cheek, "where were we?"