Béla Book 1: Target Girl
Chapter 14

Copyright 2004 Revised 2013

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Author's note: Before you read further, be advised that this story contains brutal, violent and graphically detailed savagery committed against women.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Rape   Slavery   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Superhero   Extra Sensory Perception   Paranormal   Vampires   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Light Bond   Sadistic   Torture   Snuff   Gang Bang   Orgy   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Water Sports   Necrophilia   Exhibitionism   Body Modification   Public Sex   Violence   Transformation  

Bram Stoker was thinking about possibly hitching a ride to the coast. He hadn’t been to San Francisco for fifty or sixty years and he wanted to see how it had changed. He had been almost as old and weak-legged as he was last week when he was there before. He couldn’t really enjoy the sights as much as he wanted because it had been so hard to get around in his aged condition.

He loved being young, again. He had been hiking for two or three hours and still felt refreshed. Having come upon the road leading up the mountain, he walked briskly down it, knowing it would lead to a major blacktop. He had hiked up this way, in his old body, after all. He didn’t really need the cane he carried now, but it had been a special gift to him from his publisher a hundred and fifty years earlier and it was very useful for other things besides walking.

Circling high above, Béla spotted him on the road leading down to the highway. Seeing him walking along so carefree and happy enraged her all over again. She hovered over him, then dived.

‘Just like hunting rabbits!’ she savagely thought to herself. She was going to kill one very big rabbit!

The wind began whistling in her ears as she dropped. She flexed her wings, making them arms again and dropped even faster. No longer able to control her emotions, she screamed in rage. Then she struck him!

Bram heard a scream from above him and, with reflexes that surprised even him, ducked to one side. Béla nearly missed him; her arms tore down one side of his body as she twisted to grab him. She landed hard on her head and shoulders, pinning his legs under her as she slammed into the ground.

Bram whacked her several times with his cane, trying to get her to move her weight off of his painful, broken leg. But Béla didn’t respond. She was out cold. As she came to, she discovered that she was tied up.

‘Again? Damn!’

“Well, that’s something else that’s different about you,” Bram said, noticing her movement. “My Lady couldn’t fly, either. How did you do that?”

Despite the fact that her hands were tied behind her, Béla rolled up into a kneeling position and launched herself at him, snarling. Surprised and caught off guard, Bram was still able to sidestep her attack and whack her in the side of her head with his cane as she went by.

“That, young lady, was totally uncalled for,” Bram told her, in an imperious manner. “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

“Killing you!” Béla snarled, swinging her legs around, and knocking him down.

Bram fell, favoring his freshly healed leg and Béla rolled over on top of him, aiming for his throat with her teeth. Something hot and sharp pierced her belly, traveled all the way through and out her back. Despite the incredible pain, she still managed to sink her teeth into the side of his neck, missing his jugular by only an inch.

In a rage, Bram threw her off him, pinning her to the ground with the short sword he’d pulled out of his false cane. He leaned hard on the sword, holding her down so furiously that he actually drooled on her with pure rage.

“Do you know how much I want to cut off your head right now?” he raged at her, blood dripping from his neck onto her naked breasts.

Béla struggled beneath him, unable to move. She tried to kick him again, but she needed her stomach muscles to pull her legs up, and they weren’t working right now with that damned sword stuck in her. In a fury, she bit at his face.

“You killed my baby!” she screamed at him as he held himself just beyond reach of her teeth.

He smiled at her and said, “Really?” cocking his head and beaming with immense self-satisfaction.

“Bastardo!” Béla cried and burst into tears, defeated again.

“Oh, I am so much more than just a bastard, Maria,” he said, menacingly.

Béla looked up at him, confused, both by his familiar face and the painful but also familiar pain in her gut.

“You don’t remember the first time we met?” Bram inquired, moving his face closer to hers. “The last time we were in this position, it wasn’t a sword I put through your sweet belly. Do you remember now?”

Her eyes widened in horror.

“Yes, Maria, I see that you do,” Bram said, satisfied that he was finally recognized.

“Tomas,” Béla whispered, shaking in terror.

She remembered him searing her vagina with red-hot pokers. She remembered him destroying her breasts with giant tongs used for picking up hot coals. She remembered him running her through, then searing her wounds with hot iron so she wouldn’t bleed to death, enraptured by her screams until she’d passed out, unable to control her pain any longer. Believing that he’d killed her as he had so many others, he’d had her thrown over the castle wall into the moat.

But, before all of that, he had made her watch her lover, Raul, as he was covered with coal oil and burned alive after being used by one of the ladies of the royal court. It was the lady who had poured the oil onto Raul and lovingly rubbed it into his skin, arousing him so that his majestic cock stood proudly forward. After she had enjoyed him, she had taken a torch off the wall and lit his penis, then stood back, laughing as he burned to death, screaming until his lungs and throat were too scorched for him to breathe.

She was looking at the Inquisitor General: Tomas de Torquemada.

The fight was gone out of her. Listless, she let him tie her up against a scrubby little tree at the side of the road. As he worked, he railed vehemently at her.

“I would love nothing more than to cut you into little pieces, listening to you scream your heart out,” he snarled as he tightened the ropes around her, “but I need you alive, you stinking, half-starved Puta! I was at death’s door before I found you this time. I don’t intend to wait so long next time!”

He finished tying her up.

“Hasta otra vez satisfacemos,” Torquemada said, his affected eloquence barely shading his hatred of her. “Until we meet again, Puta!”

Torquemada raised his hand to his head, then moved it downward, drawing little circles in the air, a mannerism of the royal Spanish court.

Béla collapsed against the ropes, totally defeated. She had been outsmarted, outfought and outmaneuvered at every turn. Her antagonist had played mind games with her, giving her clue after clue to his true identity and she’d missed every one. She had believed she was so clever and she had not done one thing right. And she had lost her baby as a result. Alone, defeated, friendless and half-starved, she wished Torquemada had really killed her. She couldn’t even cry.


The sun was going down. Jake turned on his headlights. Traffic was getting lighter now that darkness was approaching. Despite the traffic, he had made good time getting out of town. He moved the speedometer up to eighty, wishing he dared to go faster, but he didn’t want to attract a cop, especially with an illegal automatic weapon in his pocket.

It was after seven p.m. when he turned off the highway onto the blacktop leading out toward the mesa where the cabin was. He could see its bulk on the horizon, its mountainous mass appearing slightly darker than the star-lit sky.

Finally, he was heading up the mountain on the dirt road he remembered so well. After a few minutes of driving up the twisty turns, his headlights flashed across a figure at the side of the road.

‘Somebody put a scarecrow ... That was a body!’

He slammed on the brakes and backed carefully down around the last curve until his lights shown on the specter he’d thought was a scarecrow; a thin, emaciated body roped around some brush. Two tiny breasts sagging shapelessly above ribs showing through tightly stretched skin indicated the body was female. Its head had fallen forward so he couldn’t see the face.

‘Who would hang a half-starved old woman out here in the middle of nowhere?’ Jake wondered.

He got out of the car, leaving the engine running and the headlights on. As he approached the specter, it raised its head and spoke, its voice a gravelly whisper.

“Have you come back to kill me?” Béla rasped to the dark form eclipsing the blinding lights before her.

“Béla?” Jake cried in complete astonishment. “Oh my God!”

He grabbed her by her shoulders and stared at her thin face, her scrawny body with dried blood running down her leg from a half-healed wound in her belly, the lifeless surrender in her dead eyes. He panicked for a moment, uncertain of what he should do. It was her eyes that held him in that helpless state of mind. He’d only seen that expression once before – an old, old woman lying in a hospital, suffering from too much pain, waiting for and wanting nothing but death – a final release from the suffering and torture of having to stay alive another minute.

“Oh, God!” he cried, “Who would do this to you?”

Her expression changed as he continued to stare at her; an almost silent snarl from her parched throat and a feeble movement of her head as she made one last attempt to bury her teeth in a warm, pulsing throat. Jake jumped, startled at the sudden movement.

‘She needs to feed!’ he suddenly realized. ‘She’s almost starved to death!’

That was the first thing he’d noticed, even before he left the truck – that the old woman was half-starved and, if not dead already, not far from it.

Stepping forward within reach of her feebly grasping mouth, he hugged her face to his neck, pressing against the back of her head to force her lips against his skin. He grimaced as her teeth pierced his skin, then she was greedily sucking on the side of his neck as he held her against him and caressed her filthy, matted hair. When he started feeling dizzy, he pulled away and Béla hissed at him, blood running down her chin.

‘Jesus, she’s delirious, ‘ Jake realized. ‘She doesn’t even know who I am!’

As he unwrapped her from the ropes that bound her to the tree, she kept trying to reach him, her eyes gleaming red in the headlights of the car, her thin, bony face filled with hate. Jake decided to leave her hands tied behind her until she realized she was safe.

‘Safe?’ Jake thought, desperately, ‘Where could I take her where she’d be safe?’

He decided to continue on toward the cabin. From what she had told him, the cabin had been her sanctuary for over half a century. It was private and hard to reach, with only one road that went in and out. Having made up his mind on their destination, he picked Béla up and carried her to his truck. As he carried her, she sank her teeth into his shoulder, sucking greedily at the few drops of blood that soaked through his shirt.

When Jake got to the pickup, he stood Béla on her feet and leaned her body against the side of the pickup to steady her. She tried to bite his face, almost falling as he held her upright. Jake got the door open, picked her up again and put her in the passenger seat, accidentally banging her head on the roof of the vehicle.

 
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