Ravinical Vesh knew her marriage was a sham. A sham!

As she walked the battlements of Castle Vesh, high above the fog-shrouded village below, she cursed the misunderstandings that had brought her to this loveless, sexless state of affairs.

When she first became a Bride of Burgrave Chevoy Vesh, the notorious vampire, she had assumed he was bisexual and would occasionally give her some dick. She had not expected this would happen very often. Her expectation had been that, as a notorious vampire, the Burgrave would be busy; preying on mortals, seducing various young men and women around the village, and making love to his other two wives. Not for a minute had she thought that her husband would be pounding away on her every night, but she had expected that her vag would get at least some of his attention.

It hadn't. Burgrave Vesh hadn't even given it a look or a sniff. The vampire had no interest in pussy. 

Which was fine, Ravincal thought, it's just a shame that she'd misunderstood the nature of their marriage on entering into it.

But then... the Burgrave had misunderstood her too.

He had assumed that she was bisexual. He had assumed that, like his other two dark brides, Ravinical was into girls and could have her sexual needs met by writhing around the satin strewn boudoirs of the castle in an orgiastic frenzy of wanton Sapphic lust.

Five years ago, on their wedding night, Chevoy had introduced Ravincal to his other wives.  They'd been rolling in a heap, smeared with blood and crimson lipstick, moaning and hissing at each other like crazed goth animals as they suckled on each others' boobies and fingered their own bumholes.

"These are the girls," said the Burgrave. "Say hello."

"Hello," Ravinical had said.

The other brides had hissed and moaned at her. But in a friendly way. They just hadn't been able to manage a proper hello back because they were super into their moaning and hissing. Ravinical had guessed they were kinda high. She hadn't been wrong.

Over the course of that strange wedding night, Ravinical came to understand how the Burgrave expected their marriage to be. He would be gadding off around the town, preying on mortals and seducing young men, and his wives would all lie on the bed at home doing lesbian stuff.

Now, five years later, walking alone atop the castle's lofty peaks, Ravinical knew he'd been partly right. The shape of their marriage was that the Burgrave was off around the town doing gay stuff, the other wives were in bed doing lesbian stuff, and Ravinical - the only straight vampire in the castle - was very, very bored.

Their marriage was a huge misunderstanding.

He'd wed her because he thought she was into girls and would be content fucking his other wives.

She'd wed him because she thought he was into girls and would occasionally creampie her.

"What does a gay man even need a third wife for?" she'd asked him when they were talking it all through.

"Just the dynamic, really," he'd explained. "The other two can get a bit insular and intense. I thought a third Dark Bride might lighten things up a bit? If there's only three people in a marriage then someone's always on the sharp point of the triangle, don't you think? Four keeps it fun."

And sometimes the marriage was fun. Burgrave Chevoy Vesh was a great guy, and the lesbian vampire wives worked really hard to be friendly. But the truth was that for most of the time Ravinical was lonely and alone. The Burgrave was usually out being predatory, and the lesbian vampire wives were usually fucking each other. They would go for hours and hours! Ravinical had no idea how they didn't get exhausted, sore or bored.

A few times over the years she'd tried to join in, but it hadn't really worked and they had all just got embarrassed. Like most people, Ravinical enjoyed checking out girls' tits and asses, but they didn't really turn her on. Pussy did nothing for her. She needed a cock in her mouth to even start getting wet. Ravinical was a very, very heterosexual vampiress.

Which she was a bit self-conscious of really. She had the whole 'big tiddy goth gf' look and knew people associated that with being bi for some reason. She could kinda see why Burgrave Vesh had made the assumption he had. With her milk-white skin, long raven-black hair, heavy eyeliner, and 42H udders then she looked like a very popular fantasy idea of a gothic bisexual seductress. But she wasn't. She was a very straight vampire who just wanted some dick and some company.

Most nights if she was asked to choose between some dick and some company she would have choose the dick. Ravinical was very sexually frustrated. The only action her cunt ever saw was when she fingered it, grinded it up against a gargoyle, or that one time when she'd been flying home transformed and had been raped by an ordinary bat. A big old bastard bat. She was still struggling to process that.

On this night though she would have prioritised company. Looking down on the village from atop the castle was weird because you couldn't see the village. Just the blanket of fog that covered it. Who lived down there, she wondered, and what did they do with those lives? What did they do with their lives while she paced the castle in her nightdress, clutching a candlestick and wishing it was the firm, strong shaft of a nasty dick?

Her husband, notorious vampire Burgrave Chevoy Vesh, knew who lived in the village. He was down there now sucking their blood and jizz. Her fellow brides didn't care at all who lived in the village because they were rolling around the bed together sucking each others' nips.

But Ravinical had none of those comforts. She had herself, the castle's empty corridors and walkways, and the fog. 

Had she read all the books in the castle? Had she done all the jigsaws? She hadn't. She was saving them. Vampires are immortal.