Igor and the Count

Count Dragula is gay but he just won’t come out of the closet. Perhaps with the help of his new friend Igor, he’ll come out of the coffin…

Igor has always been confused with his sexual identity, but as a hunch backed troll with a two inch penis who would expect otherwise? Igor eventually leaves home only to be kidnapped by a band of gypsies! Forlorn, he runs away and wanders the heavily forested rolling hills of Estonia until reaching an old castle in the village of Transexualvagina.

Count Dragula, who sleeps in a coffin perched inside of a closet, isn’t interested in a two-foot troll but Igor is willing to do anything the Count asks of him…anything! Could the Count, with Igor’s help, come to terms with his own sexuality?

Excerpt:

Igor entered the eighth grade at 2 foot 10. Indeed, Igor was at an awkward age and size. Many boys kicked his ass because he (deliberately) bumped into their crotches with his nose. The kids that kicked his ass found this an offensive breach of propriety; because Igor would always make some snide comment on how big, the other students felt, through their pants. All the boys and girls had ostracized him. Yes, they all learned quickly to dodge his drooling, grinning, bump into, hump-backed, sniffing antics...

Then, at thirteen, Igor ran away from home. After a week of living under a bridge, pretending to be a troll, he encountered a roving band of gypsy midgets. They, being sympathetic with Igor’s physical appearance, took him in.

But alas, Igor tired of their sexual abuses and ran off. He wandered around aimlessly for many days. Forlorn, he came upon an old castle located high on a hill in the village of Transexualvagina, population one (1).

Igor picked up a rock, scratched out the number 1, and etched a crude number 2 into the sign. Igor had found his new home. He then, whistling a somber tune, climbed the winding gravel road up to the castle’s door.

Pushing aside thick swatches of spider webs and smashing many spiders, Igor entered the mold-scented granite megalith. It was very dark inside and the shadowy walls were full of graffiti and scratched notes by kids that had lost their virginity there. As he walked, Igor hoped that he too would one day add his own note. As he walked, Igor hoped that he too would one day add his own note.

After stopping twice, to masturbate, Igor came to a solid oak door at the top of the castle’s highest parapet. He found the door locked, from the inside. He began pounding on the door. He worked himself up into a maddened frenzy of knocking, pounding, and kicking the secured portal. After a good ten minutes of this deliberate idiocy, there came a muffled plea.

"Who’s there? Who is it that pounds on my door? Go away!”

"It is I. Igor. I am looking for a home. Is this your castle? Who are you? May I stay here?”

Again, the muffled voice, “Go away! I’m the owner of this castle. I’m ordering you to leave, right now! If you must see me, come back after sunset. Now, off with you before I notify the authorities.”

“Who are you, sir?” questioned, Igor, “What time should I come back? Did you say...after sunset?”

More muffled words emanated from behind the oaken barrier, “Yes, you...FOOL! After sunset!

"What’s your name?” Igor demanded.

“I’m Count Dragula. Now, go away!”

A red-hued sunset colored the western horizon as Count Dragula began to stir inside his coffin, a coffin filled with his native soil. This casket ritual is the way of vampires. Count Drago, his own adopted nickname, finger felt his sleep produced erection and began fondling his nuts with formidable dexterity. His awakening would be complete when sperm shot from his eight-inch erection. Some days, it was only a matter seconds before he’d blast his wad. Some days, he’d play with his self for hours and only bruise his penis head. But that was rare. On this particular evening, he filled the palm of his hand with a hefty tablespoonful of milky white cum...