Dracula in Dungeon（2）

Meanwhile…

"Ughhh!!!" After over three hours of standing on tiptoes under the assault of dripping mercury, Sophia's endurance fails. Her body collapses, her full weight pressing onto the protrusion between her legs. A surge of excruciating pain and perverse pleasure overwhelms her. A single plug would be bearable, but this one, with its barbs and holy energy, feels like chili water and electric shocks. Her lower body succumbs, and her fluids gush within the plug, contained by the plug and the pillar's protrusion.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh… ugh ugh, ugh, ughhh!!!" With her weight still on the protrusion, the intense stimulation persists after the initial release, triggering another involuntary climax.

"Ugh… ugh…" As an undead, Sophia doesn't sweat. Rallying her resolve, she lifts her toes again.

Footsteps approach. She hears someone coming.

Damn it… was I careless?

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"Isaac learned to dance!" Back at the inn, Anna, still in her light blue mermaid dress, stands with arms crossed before Isaac.

"Am I that incompetent in your eyes?" Isaac retorts irritably.

Anna smirks mischievously. "Pretty much. You're the worst dancer I've ever seen."

"Really? What about D'Artagnan?"

"He's a top-tier dancer."

"Oh!"

"What, jealous?"

Isaac denies it. "No, not at all!"

Anna mimics Sophia's tone. "Little Zack's jealous, huh?"

Isaac turns away, blushing. "Keep it up, and I'm going back to my room!" They've booked two single rooms at the inn, and he's currently in Anna's.

"Little Zack's so useless. I'm not your vampire girlfriend who gets bored and sulky," Anna teases, still channeling Sophia.

"Can't you stop mocking me? I know I'm worthless," Isaac says, turning to face her. His lack of ability forced him to hand the box to the Magic Academy. If he were stronger, if only…

A commotion erupts downstairs—sounds of a fight.

"What's happening?" Isaac asks.

Anna grabs her sword. "Trouble. Get ready to fight."

Before Isaac can reach Moonshine, the door bursts open.

Six armed warriors storm in. One charges Isaac, pressing a sword to his throat.

Anna swiftly severs one warrior's sword hand and kicks another away.

"Stop! Unless you want your friend hurt!" the warrior at Isaac's throat shouts.

Anna freezes. "Don't harm him. Who are you? You're after me, right?" She senses their intent. The other three warriors keep their swords trained on her.

"Correct. You're the lady who danced with Count Masoch at the ball. The Countess believes you seduced him, so we're taking you for punishment."

"So the Countess is jealous? I won't go quietly," Anna says calmly.

"What about your friend?" The warrior presses the blade, drawing a thin line of blood on Isaac's neck.

"I don't care about him. Kill him if you want."

"If you didn't care, why stop fighting?" The warrior sees through her bluff.

"Try me."

"Anna, don't worry about—ah!"

Seeing Anna unmoved, the warrior slices a shallow cut on Isaac's neck.

"Wait!"

"So you do care?" The warrior smirks. "Cooperate, and we won't hurt him. We're not bandits—we keep our word. The Countess only wants to punish you. Your friend's just a merchant with some coin; we won't kill him."

"Damn it, Isaac, this is your fault!" Anna glares at him. "What do you want me to do?"

Another warrior produces rope. "Put your hands behind your back. The Countess wants to meet the homewrecker."

Anna hesitates, eyeing the rope. Isaac shouts, "Anna, don't listen to them!"

"Shut up!" A warrior punches Isaac.

"Don't hurt him!" Seeing Isaac in pain, Anna turns, placing her hands behind her back.

"Even tough ladies have weaknesses. Tie her up!"

Two warriors seize Anna's arms, binding them straight behind her in her mermaid dress. Ropes encircle her torso below and above her bust, securing her upper arms but leaving her chest unbound. Additional ropes wrap around the base of her breasts, crossing the valley between, lifting and shaping them into pronounced peaks.

Her waist is cinched with more ropes, tightening her dress to accentuate her slender figure.

"That's enough. My hands are tied, and this dress restricts my legs. I can't fight. Let him go," Anna says, glancing at Isaac. The lead warrior interrupts, "Not yet. Your legs aren't bound, and your mouth needs gagging."

"You—mmph!" A fine cloth is tied tightly over Anna's mouth, knotted behind her head, securing her hair.

They push her down, and she hits the floor hard. The warriors pin her, binding her lower body.

"Mmph!" With Isaac held hostage, Anna can only protest weakly.

The tight mermaid dress, already form-fitting, clings even closer under layers of rope, molding to her thighs and hips. A rope runs from her waist to the bindings at her thigh roots, with a knot pressed tightly between her legs, rubbing her sensitive area through the dress with any movement. Below, more ropes and knots highlight her legs' curves, and the dress's fishtail hem is bound to her calves, encasing her legs like a sensual mermaid tail.

Anna lies on the floor, writhing helplessly like a beached fish, her torso and tail thrashing.

"Mmph… mmph…" She feels utterly humiliated. Before meeting Isaac, she'd never been captured. Now, this is her third time—first by vampires, now by humans. All because of Isaac.

The warriors finish binding Anna, knock Isaac out with a sword hilt as promised, and hoist her over a shoulder, smacking her rear.

"Mmph!" The slap stings, but bound like a mermaid, she's powerless.

Ignoring Isaac, the warriors bandage their comrade's severed hand, carry the struggling, whimpering Anna, and leave.

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In the Magic Academy's Dungeon

"Ugh… ugh… ughhh!" The pillar's temperature has risen to 150°C. The protrusion, fused with the plugs, conducts heat into Sophia's body.

Clement stands before her, having just poured mercury into her ears, reducing her hearing to human levels.

"Still uncooperative?"

"Ugh… ughhh…" Even her undead body can't endure this pain.

"You're a Daywalker?" Clement conjures a small artificial sun in the cell. "Why does a Daywalker have the same cold body as other vampires?"

He even knows I'm a Daywalker? Someone—a vampire—must have told him…

Sophia has little time to think. The intense sunlight burns her undead flesh, amplifying her vampiric aversion to it.

Unable to bear it, she reverts to human form.

"Ughhh!!!" She regrets it instantly as pain magnifies hundreds of times. Before she can revert, a syringe pierces her.

A mixture of mercury and silver powder is injected into her now-flowing blood.

"Ughhh!!!" Agony spreads through her body. The mixture impairs her ability to manipulate her organs and cells, trapping her in human form.

"Ugh… ugh… ughhh!!!" Her tiptoes collapse, and her weight presses onto the plugs again, intensified by the 150°C heat and the silver-mercury coursing through her veins.

"Oh… oh… ohhh!!!" She climaxes again, eyes rolling back, tears streaming. To expel the silver and mercury, she needs to excrete, but the plugs prevent it.

"Do royal vampires cry? Or just Daywalkers?" Clement mocks the strapped Sophia.

Two silver clamps grip her chest's pink points, capable of crushing human bones, inflicting unimaginable pain.

"Oh… ugh… oh… ohhh…" Tears flow uncontrollably, mixing with mercury dripping from above, coating her face, neck, and chest.

"If you don't cooperate, tonight's just the beginning."

Clement leaves, the door slamming shut. The pillar's temperature rises to 200°C, roasting her back and the plugged passages.

A human would die quickly at 200°C, but Sophia won't. In human form, she feels human pain, experiencing torment neither human nor vampire could endure.

Crying in agony, Sophia lacks the strength to stand on tiptoes. Her weight rests on the holy plugs, having climaxed three times. The overwhelming sensation threatens another soon. How many times will she endure tonight?

This adventure is unlike any in her 800 years…

She's never faced such a situation…

Is this beyond her experience? Was she too confident in her 800 years, unprepared for the unknown?

What do I do… what do I do…

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Count Masoch's Estate

"Madam, we've brought the lady," a warrior announces, carrying the struggling Anna toward a 34-year-old black-haired noblewoman, the Countess.

The Countess, about 172 cm tall, exudes authority and mystery. She wears a sleek, light green tight dress with a pencil skirt hem just above the knees, slit at the sides for mobility. The dress, accented with dark green and pink details, highlights her 34D curves. Sleeveless, with a high neckline and gold zipper, it's paired with long black gloves, elegant fingers holding a lit cigarette holder, smoke curling around her, adding mystique and aloofness.

Her expression is stern, red lipstick accentuating full, alluring lips. A black mesh veil obscures her eyes, her gaze enigmatic. Her glossy black hair is neatly coiled into a low bun, exuding poise. Green earrings match her dress.

"Pff." The Countess exhales smoke, eyeing Anna with disdain.

Anna's rear bears dark blue marks visible through her dress, evidence of spankings during transit.

"This is the wench?" the Countess commands. "Throw her on the ground."

Thud! Anna hits the floor, crying out, "Mmphhh!"

"You seduced my husband, wench. That's your crime." The Countess steps on Anna's crotch through her dress with her heel.

"Mmph… mmphhh!" Anna's eyes roll back in pain.

"Have all the women who seduced my husband been caught?" the Countess asks the warriors.

"Yes, ma'am," a soldier replies.

Anna, recovering, glances around. Three other bound noblewomen lie nearby, their arms tied straight behind, legs and dresses bound into mermaid tails. Two, in yellow and black gowns, are about Anna's age, around 20. The third is… Countess Chanel, aged 29.

Countess Chanel, with black hair, wears a white qipao from the Zhendan Empire. The ropes make the qipao cling to her skin, outlining her exquisite figure. Paired with an Eastern hairpin, her coiled bun, and brown eyes, this pure-blooded Goulens noble exudes an exotic Zhendan aura. All four danced with Count Masoch at the ball.

But… they dared kidnap Countess Chanel? The Chanel family is a renowned Parisian art dynasty with vast wealth from overseas trade. Her qipao, sourced from Eta's Middle East, reflects their influence. A powerful family, not easily trifled with.

At 29, Chanel, single and the family's sole member, is a coveted figure in high society. Cultured and artistically refined, her discerning taste makes her heart hard to win.

At 172 cm, her beauty is top-tier in Goulens. Her oval face has soft yet defined lines, mature and striking. Her full forehead, long, dense brows with natural arcs, and deep-set, bright eyes convey intellect and calm strength. Her high, slender nose and small wings create a refined profile. Her small, pink lips, gagged with white cloth, appear serene yet resolute. Her deep, gentle yet firm gaze blends power and tenderness.

Chanel's artistic elegance fuses French romance with Zhendan restraint. Her glossy black hair, in a low bun with loose strands framing her face, adds softness. Her fair, flawless skin radiates health. But her arms are bound behind, gagged with a ball gag, brows slightly furrowed yet composed. As her family's sole leader, she's accustomed to independence, facing challenges with mature resilience. Even now, she remains calm, seeking escape.

The ropes show no mercy. Her arms are twisted back, forearms crossed high in a W-shape. Ropes encircle her bust above and below, securing her upper arms, while additional ropes at her waist cinch her qipao-clad figure, extending to bind her elbows. Her forearms, suspended high, are tethered by ropes passing through arm bindings, splitting at her neck to cross at her qipao's collar, squeezing her bust into an exaggerated, elliptical mound. Her shoulders, pulled back, thrust her chest forward, enhancing the qipao's prominence.

Her qipao's hem is bound with seven or eight rope loops, molding to her legs, transforming her into a noble, East-West fusion human stick.

"Mmph, mmph…" Chanel, gagged, sees another captured beauty. Her mature, calm face shows a flicker of sorrow—not for herself, but for Anna.

"Well done, my dear," Count Masoch himself appears. Around 40, handsome with a straight mustache, he was once a knight from the Duchy of Oss, now a count under Marquis Sade.

"Mmph!" Anna, shocked, stares at him. Wasn't his wife supposed to be catching adulterers?

"My Lady Belmont," Masoch addresses the mermaid-bound Anna. "Marquis Sade and I planned to kidnap the unguarded noblewomen from the ball. The 'adultery' excuse just makes it look legitimate."

"Mmph?" Chanel, bound nearby, gasps in surprise.

"D'Artagnan, the greatest swordsman, mages, and the princess's guards were at the ball. We couldn't act then," Masoch explains.

"Mmphhh!" The other two young noblewomen writhe and whimper.

"So we tracked you noble ladies until the moment was right," Masoch says, grinning.

"But my wife is jealous, and those warriors are her men," he adds, glancing at the Countess. To the warrior who carried Anna, he says, "Dole, well done. My best man."

"Thank you, my lord!" Dole bows and exits. Anna glares, memorizing the man who spanked her over a dozen times.

"Don't panic, ladies. I'm not so crude as to ravish you immediately."

At "ravish," the two younger noblewomen panic, struggling and whimpering. Chanel emits a displeased hum.

"Let's have tea first. Servants, tie the ladies to chairs!"

Servants approach, groping the women as they lift them, placing them at a large table's chairs, securing their mermaid-bound forms.

"Mmph!" Anna glares as a servant fondles her bust, but the servants, accustomed, ignore her fury.

"My wife gets tied too," Masoch says, eyeing the Countess's voluptuous figure in her sleeveless green dress.

"I'll teach these wenches first," the Countess says, slapping each woman's face four times. Anna's cheeks bear two red marks per side.

"Mmph!" The younger noblewomen's eyes show submission, but Anna and Chanel glare defiantly.

Slap! Slap! The Countess delivers two more slaps to Anna and Chanel.

"Enough, dear. Don't ruin their pretty faces—where would I kiss?" Masoch chides.

"These wenches!" The Countess storms back to Masoch, who binds her arms behind, elbows bent at a 60-degree angle, forearms crossed in an X. Her skirt, knee-length and unflare, is bound tightly, though not into a mermaid tail.

Unbound and ungagged, the Countess sits beside Masoch willingly.

Servants bring tea. Masoch feeds his wife a sip. He pours cups for the four bound mermaid ladies, offering one to a young noblewoman, who, shy and angry, turns away. The Countess snaps, "Want more slaps, wench?"

The noblewoman relents, and Masoch pours tea through her gag cloth.

The second noblewoman complies similarly.

But Chanel, in her qipao, jerks her head, refusing. Masoch grips her chin, forcing tea through her gag. Excess spills, soaking her chest, revealing a black lace bra beneath the wet qipao.

"Naughty," Masoch says, slapping the artistic Chanel.

"Mmph!" She whimpers in pain. Masoch grips Anna's chin, pouring an entire cup through her gag without asking. Most spills, drenching her upper body and dress.

"Mmph!" Anna glares.

Slap! Slap! Masoch's controlled slaps sting without drawing blood.

"It's late. Lock the ladies in the dungeon. I'll train them tomorrow," Masoch says, laughing.

"Mmph!" Servants grope the women, untying them from the chairs. They continue fondling Anna's chest, hips, waist, and thighs, carrying the four to the dungeon.

In the dungeon, they apply a blood-circulation potion to the women's straight-bound arms and shoulders to prevent damage, then secure them to four pillars. Anna notices they're in one cell, with more bound women likely in others.

Her nightmare deepens. The servants, granted free rein, don't leave after binding her. They fondle Anna and the others with hands and mouths.

"Mmph… mmphhh!" Will they toy with us until morning?

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In the Magic Academy's Dungeon

"It's midnight, and you're here to see the vampire, Lady Lancaster?" The dungeon's mage guard questions Jane's late visit.

"As a high-tier mage, don't I have the right to study a vampire?" Jane, still in her pink ball gown, hasn't changed since the ball.

"Master Clement ordered that no one approaches the vampire without restrictions."

"His exact words?" Jane asks confidently.

"What do you mean?"

"Tie me up, then," Jane says bluntly.

"What?"

"As mages, our words must be logical and precise."

"That's true…"

"Clement said no approaching without restrictions. Binding me makes it logical, right?"

"But…"

"No buts. Are you a mage or not?" Jane presses, determined to see Sophia.

"Fine!" The mage retrieves a single glove from the restraint tools.

"You've got quite the collection. No ropes?" Jane remarks.

"Ropes are cumbersome in dungeons. Gloves and shackles are easier."

"Bind me, then." Jane turns, offering her back. The mage slips the glove over her hands, tightening it. Two straps cross her chest, forming a black X.

"Anklets too, just in case."

"Such a hassle. I'm not here to break her out."

Click! Steel anklets lock onto her legs.

"Clement also said no talking with the vampire…"

"Fine, gag me too," Jane says, unfazed by gagging after past experiences.

A thick bit gag is inserted, and she bites down as straps secure it behind her head, pinning her hair.

"Sorry, Lady Jane, we only have prisoner restraints."

Jane glares, "Mmph," nodding toward the cell, urging him to lead her to Sophia.

"One more thing—a magic-suppressing collar. You know vocal and silent casting, right? Just a precaution." The mage produces a black collar. Jane, unable to resist, extends her neck, letting him collar her like a dog.

In her pink gown, bound with a black single glove, chained anklets, collar, and bit gag, Jane follows the mage to Sophia's cell.

The mage opens the door, revealing a shocking scene.

Naked, Sophia hangs lifelessly on the pillar, her legs no longer tiptoeing. The protrusion lifts her crotch's flesh ten centimeters, a treatment that could fracture a human's pelvis or pubis.

Mercury drips from above, her head slumped, hair covering her face.

She's adapted to the pain, no longer crying, but emits, "Mmph… mmph… mmphhh…"

"Mmph!" Jane gasps in shock, but Sophia's restricted hearing misses it.

"Mmphhh!" Jane tries again, and Sophia slowly lifts her tear-streaked face, stunned to see Jane bound.

"Mmph-mmphhh-mmphhh—mmphhh-mmphhh—" Jane, having taken Sophia's potion, uses Morse code.

"You, okay?"

"Mmph-mmphhh-mphmphmph—mmphhh—" Sophia, cautious of the mage, who might recognize Morse code, replies:

"You, caught?"

Jane shakes her head. Sophia realizes Jane came to check on her and continues, "Mmphhh-mmph—mmphhhh—mmphhh-mph—"

"No, big, deal."

Sophia looks far from fine, but Jane knows she won't reveal more.

"Mmph." Jane signals the mage to leave.

"Done?" the mage asks impatiently.

"Mmph." Jane nods.

"Let's go." The mage closes the door, leads Jane out, and removes her restraints.

I need to find a way to help Master Dominatrix.